An Addendum to my Review of Proving History by Richard Carrier

Earlier today Prof. James McGrath linked to my recent review of Richard Carrier’s Proving History. A comment discussion ensued between myself and blogger Tom Verenna, in which he says that I’ve missed the point entirely with the book and that I engaged in polemical attacks. I was going to post this response in the comment discussion on McGrath’s blog post, but decided to post it on my own blog in case anyone reading my review likewise thinks that Carrier’s book went over my head.

I will first provide the comment discussion between Tom Verenna and myself:

Tom Verenna’s first comment to me (in which he quotes Carrier):

He is quite qualified. He writes, “Twice Ehrman says I have a Ph.D. in “classics” (p. 19, 167). In fact, my degrees are in ancient history, with an undergraduate minor in Classics (major in history), and *three  graduate degrees* (M.A., M.Phil., and Ph.D.) with *four graduate majors*  (Greco-Roman historiography, philosophy, religion, and a special major  on the fall of Rome). One of those, you’ll notice, is in the *religions  of the Roman empire–which included Christianity* (and my study of  Christianity featured significantly in my dissertation work). I  shouldn’t have to explain that the classics and ancient history  departments aren’t even in the same building, much less the same major.  Although I did take courses from each and studied under both classicists and historians, and have a considerable classics background, it’s a  rather telling mistake of his to think (and then report) that I am just a classicist and not a historian, much less a certified historian of Christianity (and, incidentally, its surrounding religions, ignorance of which we have seen is Ehrman’s failing).”

My response:

Seems irrelevant to the point at hand. Learning about religions of Rome does not mean you specialize in Christian origins. If he did specialize in Christian origins, then he should have in-depth knowledge concerning more pertinent areas of knowledge e.g. Second Temple Judaism, Hebrew, Aramaic, biblical studies. However, he has revealed his staggering ignorance of such areas.

Verenna’s rejoinder:

We’ll have to disagree. You can take classes in those subjects and be formally trained without majoring in ‘Christian origins’–I’m double-majoring in Classics and Classical Languages and I’ve taken courses in religious Studies and Biblical Studies which count towards my majors. Your argument is a little presumptuous of what these majors entail and suggest you may not have first-hand knowledge of what these majors entail. If so, maybe you’re not qualified to speak on Carrier’s qualifications? =)

To which I responded:

I am not speaking about Carrier’s formal qualifications.

I am talking about the familiarity he has shown with areas of study most relevant to Christian origins.

Sure, knowledge of the religions of Rome is important. But it pales in comparison to other, more pertinent, areas of study (such as the few I mentioned in my last comment).

Perhaps Carrier did study such things as part of his majors. I don’t know. But I do know that on his blog and in his book “Proving History”, he reveals his staggering ignorance on such matters (no exaggeration). I mean, sheesh, he didn’t have the slightest clue as to what pesher was until Thom Stark schooled him on it. He couldn’t translate Daniel 9:26 to save his life. And there is a whole litany of other offenses he has committed against biblical studies.

I’m sure he is a very smart guy (his academic credentials testify to that). But when it comes to such things as early Christianity and its corollaries, he is simply out his league.

Leading to this comment from Tom Verenna:

I think you’ve missed the point entirely with his book. I appreciate your replies here, but I think the book went over your head a little. The point is to address the staggering problems in the field of historical research–including the basic concepts you lay out in your responses above. Carrier is aware of them, but he lays out the fact that for far too long arbitrary factors have played in theses about Christian origins, Second Temple Period, etc… because no one has taken into account factors which *should have been* considered before the studies in those areas were done. You may disagree with his conclusions, but his point is a valid one. Assuming this is Kevin from Diglotting, I do not approve of your polemical attacks in your review of his book either. Your other reviews have a professional feel–this one felt as though you were on the attack throughout. Maybe sensational amateurs deserve such treatment, but scholars like Carrier with strong qualifications in the field deserve more respect than that. And to be clear, I’ve defended Ehrman and James McGrath against their attackers on the same issue. Carrier and Ehrman and James deserve a level of courtesy for their work in the field, whether we agree or disagree with their arguments. It comes with earning their laurels. Those of us who haven’t should show respect.

I do not think I “missed the point entirely with his book”, but I can only leave that up to the reader to decide. Neither do I think the book went “over [my] head”. I understood the author’s thesis clearly. I am familiar with matters pertaining to early Christianity and so that is where the focus of my review was. I decided to not say terribly much about Carrier’s discussion of the math component of the book due to the fact that I am not familiar enough with this subject.

Regarding my polemics against the book. Yes, my review was definitely not in my usual style. But that is because the books I review are written by people who (even if I don’t agree with them) know the areas they are writing about. I occasionally read a book that I think is pitiful and when I do I will write a more acerbic review (e.g. see my review of Keller’s The Reason for God, I and II). If I find the book lacking, I see nothing wrong with my review being less than flattering (provided I actually say why I found the book displeasing). This is the category that Proving History falls into. I thought that a lot of what the author said concerning biblical studies was patently wrong and revealed a lack of knowledge in the area. Poor argumentation deserves no respect.

As I said in the final part of my review, even if Carrier’s Bayesian method is a brilliant new way to investigate the historical Jesus, we need someone to apply it who can deftly handle all the data. Carrier is simply not that person. Why do I say that? I don’t know but maybe it has something to do with the fact that in an attempt to conjure up a plausible reason as to why Mark didn’t really say Jesus came from Nazareth, Carrier says that maybe “Nazareth” in Mark 1.9 may just be an interpolation (which I would assume he would also apply to the usage of the word in Mark 1.24, 10.47, and 16.6). His support for this line of reasoning? None at all! It’s just a naked assertion. Additionally, in an attempt to make the Nazarite argument plausible, he makes a feeble argument pointing towards Mark 14.25 and Matt. 26.29, while conveniently forgetting to mention the more relevant pericope of Luke/Q 7.33-34 which directly undercuts it. These were just two of my gripes with Carrier’s discussion of Nazareth and I do not think they are trivial.

One thing that Carrier mentions (more than once) in the book is that, prior to when the Christian sect started, there was already existent in Judaism a stream of thought which awaited an eschatological messianic figure who would suffer and die as an atonement for sins. He even singles out the Qumran community as a specific example of this. This would be an important factor for historical Jesus studies to interact with…. if it were true. It is not. He points to a blog post of his as support for such a notion but this blog post (and Carrier’s thesis) has been thoroughly refuted. The blog post Carrier point’s to (and the subsequent war of words with Thom Stark) also reveals that he is uninformed on lots of stuff pertaining to Christian origins. Good grief, if the guy can not even translate and understand Daniel 9.26, how are we meant to seriously expect him to handle the vast amount of complicated data one must grapple with when discussing Christian origins and the historical Jesus?

Richard Carrier has great credentials. I am sure I could learn a lot from him concerning Greco-Roman historiography, the fall of Rome, and ancient science and philosophy. But when it comes to the historical Jesus, Second Temple Judaism, biblical studies, and so forth…. well, then it’s different. All I have seen from Mr. Carrier is an unwillingness and/or inability to seriously engage with scholarship in these areas. I agree with him (to a degree) as to the utility (or lack thereof) of the criteria of authenticity. However, I thought a lot of the argumentation Carrier used to rail against these criteria was very poor and was littered with gross inaccuracies. That is why I focused my review on that component of the book and why my review was quite barbed.

A Review of Proving History by Richard Carrier (Part V)

This is the final part of my review of Richard Carrier’s book, Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus.

All in all, I found this book to be pretty mediocre. Richard Carrier states in his bio on his blog that he is a specialist in Christian origins and with this book he has tried to make a name for himself in the field. But he has failed. Abysmally. This book only goes to demonstrate Carrier’s lack of familiarity with the field he is trying to navigate.

I wasn’t convinced that Bayes’s Theorem is relevant and effectual when dealing with the complexities of historical data, and I really don’t think it is going be useful to historical Jesus research. But even if Bayes’s Theorem truly is a useful heuristic tool and a constructive approach for the study of the historical Jesus and Christian origins, we would need someone who possesses an actual understanding of the field to be able to fruitfully utilize it. This rules Richard Carrier out. He does not possess an expertise in the relevant areas of knowledge (e.g. Second Temple Judaism, New Testament, History of Religion). Thus, he lacks the knowledge required to be able to wield Bayes’s Theorem profitably and any numbers he comes up with to plug into the equation will not hold water.

The author is following this volume with a sequel which shall deal more fully with the historical Jesus (yes this book was just a prelude to whet our appetites). In an earlier part of this review I expressed my concern for how the author will be able to competently handle the composite Jesus traditions and texts. For instance, when it comes to the crucifixion of Jesus, I bet we will not see anything mentioned about how Q portrays Jesus’ death in light of Deuteronomistic theology, whereas the later Matthew instead emphasizes an expiatory nature of Jesus’ death. In fact, I could almost guarantee we wouldn’t see such a thing considering that Carrier says in this volume (pg. 139) that such a view of Jesus’ death (i.e. as an expiatory sacrifice) was not a post-hoc rationalization but something already expected by Jews (yet another example of Carrier’s fundamentalist reading of the Bible).

Furthermore, a little while later he mentions in a footnote that he is “increasingly convinced there was no Q in the traditional sense, but the designation still conceptually defines some source, even it if turns out to be Matthew or some lost Gospel”. Apart from the fact that this doesn’t make much sense (Q is the corollary to the Two-Document Hypothesis and is the material common to Matthew and Luke but not found in Mark, so if Q “turns out to be Matthew” then you are actually talking about the Farrer-Goulder Hypothesis, not the 2DH and Q), there is also the disconcerting possibility that Carrier will just wind up dismissing Q, or at least rating the 2DH and Q as being improbable, which will then make such issues (e.g. the portrayal of Jesus’ death in Q) irrelevant. This is important because if Carrier considers the initial tradition of Jesus’ death to have already been expiatory in nature, then I’m sure this will be used to increase the probability that Jesus’ death could have been created out of thin air (because Carrier wrongly believes there was already an expectation for the eschatological messiah to be executed as an atonement for sin due to his fundamentalist reading of the Old Testament). He does says that he will revisit the question of Q in the next volume, but I am not holding my breath for an in-depth and well-informed analysis.

I am hoping that the second volume will provide us with filet mignon, but Mr. Carrier is ill-equipped for such a task and will only be able to give us rump roast.

A Review of Proving History by Richard Carrier (Part IV)

Welcome to part four of my review of Richard Carrier’s book, Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus. In his lengthy section on the criterion on embarrassment, Carrier discusses Jesus’ birth in Nazareth. Here is one remark that boggled my mind:

If Mark 1:9 is discounted as an interpolation (via contamination from, or harmonization with, the other Gospels, which we known to have been a frequent occurrence in their transmission), then Mark never actually said Jesus came from Nazareth. (143)

Of course, Carrier doesn’t provide any reasoning to support this verse being an interpolation, which is probably due to the fact that there isn’t any support for such an idea. But hey, why let a little detail like that get in the way. If you don’t like what a text says, just create an unnecessary conjectural emendation out of thin air and proclaim, “Interpolation!” Maybe, if we’re real lucky, Carrier will try and apply Bayes’s Theorem to New Testament textual criticism and come up with his own edition of the Greek New Testament!

Warning – Tangent Ahead: Maybe we could even apply Bayes’s Theorem to theology. I estimate a 5% chance that Mark 16.9-20 is original and thus part of the infallible Bible. Yet, when I take into account the fact that I had a friend called Mark in primary school, that I am old enough to know who Marky Mark is, and that I’ve seen Mark Ruffalo in a few movies, the odds are changed to making the ending of Mark almost certainly authentic and thus giving me an 80% probability that I could play with snakes (as per Mark 16.18) and survive a poisonous snake bite (cf. Acts 28.3-6). I like those odds.

snakehandler

Wish me luck!

Carrier provides a few alternative explanations as to how Nazareth came to be associated with Jesus. He says that there are “several plausible reasons why Jesus would be falsely contrived as a Nazarene” (142). As I said in part III of this review, giving a possible reason is not the same thing as providing a plausible one. Carrier anticipates this criticism by saying that, “Since no prior author mentions a connection between Jesus and Nazareth (Paul, for example, makes no mention of it), such developments are more than merely possible … these are viable possibilities, at least sufficiently probably to require us to rule them out first” (142). So since Paul makes no mention of Nazareth, the three alternative explanations he provides for the Nazareth connection are “viable possibilities”? Seems like quite a stretch, but nevertheless, even if we grant Carrier that, they are still far less probable (barring a brilliant piece of argumentation from Carrier in the next volume) than the notion that Mark is simply stating that, indeed, “Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee” (Mark 1.9).

One of the alternatives that Carrier mentions is that the Nazareth connection derives from Numbers 6 and the Nazarite vow. In discussing this option he says that, “a Nazarite vow was most typically of limited duration (a fixed number of days), consecrating oneself to God by certain rituals – most prominently, abstaining from wine (which Jesus indeed vows to do: Mark 14:25; Matthew 26:29)” (142). Yea… those Gospel references are to the last supper where Jesus says he will not drink again of the fruit of the vine. I don’t think his disciples would be terribly impressed with Jesus’ Nazarite vow if he made it the night before he was executed (at least, I doubt they would be impressed enough that they would then remember him as one who made a Nazarite vow). Perhaps a more pertinent passage for Carrier to have mentioned would have been Q/Luke 7:33-34 which depicts Jesus as one who did drink (and thus probably not someone who was under a Nazarite vow).

notimpressed

President Obama and McKayla Maroney are not impressed with Jesus’ Nazarite vow.

Carrier then demonstrates more of his fundamentalist reading of the Bible:

Yet Matthew even claims a Nazareth origin derived from prophecy – in fact, not the town, but the epithet, which could thus have been Mark’s source as well (see Matthew 2:23). Unless Matthew was lying, we are obliged to agree that Mark (or his source) could have had that same prophecy in mind. (144)

Carrier compares Mark’s reference to Nazareth with Matthew’s reference to Bethlehem. In other words, since Matthew wanted to have Jesus born in Bethlehem (in order to ‘fulfill prophecy’) and thus created an elaborate narrative which achieved this purpose, Mark likewise created the notion that Jesus came from Nazareth due to a (now lost) prophecy which Mark needed to be fulfilled. Note that Carrier says: “Unless Matthew was lying”!? Yes, the author of Matthew probably was lying. There was no prophecy concerning a Nazareth origin (James McGrath’s review of Proving History makes the same point). Carrier’s readiness to accept that Matthew was correct is like a fundamentalist Christian who does likewise (lest Matthew be a liar and biblical inerrancy a falsehood). But Carrier has an obvious agenda in this book and so has to clutch at whatever straw he can find, even if it includes ditching scholarship and reading the Bible like a fundamentalist.

Another display of ignorance from Carrier is his brief foray on how Mark presents Jesus speaking of “the Son of Man”. There is no mentioning of the possibility of an Aramaic Vorlage underlying the Greek phrase (ο υιος του ανθρωπου), making Carrier’s discussion on all this pretty meaningless. In a footnote he does list a few of the most recent scholarly volumes on the the issue, but evinces no real knowledge about this controversial topic. It’s like he searched Amazon for the phrase ‘Jesus Son of Man’, saw the recent volumes by Müller, Casey, Walck, Hurtado and Owen, and just threw them together in a footnote to make it look like he knows what he is talking about.

Following this is a discussion on the betrayal of Judas Iscariot (still in the context of the embarrassment criterion). In order to support a point he is making, he says: “‘Iscariot’ is (as many scholars believe) an Aramaicism for the Latin ‘Sicarius’” (154). Unfortunately, he doesn’t mention the other, more plausible, etymology of “Iscariot” (that it’s derived from “man of Kerioth”). Though he says he will deal with this again in the next volume, so maybe we will see something more substantial then.

On the betrayal of Jesus by Judas Carrier says:

The betrayal story also makes no historical sense. The authorities did not need Judas (much less have to pay him) to find or identify Jesus (Mark 14:10-11, 14:43-50). Given what Mark has Jesus say in 14:49 (and what Jesus had been doing in Jerusalem only days before), the authorities knew what he looked like, and they could have seized him any time he appeared in public. (153-54)

Yes they could have seized him in public at any time they wanted, especially if they wanted to risk a deadly skirmish. As Stephanie Louise Fisher points out in her review of Proving History, this sort of thing had occurred in the past during the time of Herod Archelaus.

Carrier then puts the icing on the cake with:

The fact that Jesus’ betrayer’s name essentially means “Jew” should already make us suspicious. (154)

The fact that Jesus’ betrayer has an extremely common name should make us suspicious?! Merciful Mother in heaven, someone buy this guy a clue. Or at least buy him the Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity, part 1: Palestine 330 BCE – 200 CE (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), and point him towards pages 112-25. Judas/Judah was a common name. Why? Geez, I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with the fourth son of the patriarch Jacob being called Judah! There is nothing suspicious about Jesus’ betrayer’s name unless you’re Richard Carrier and trying your hardest to fantasize up some reason as to why the Judas betrayal story was a myth.

I think the author has been spending too much time on Fantasy Island with these guys.

I think the author has been spending too much time on Fantasy Island with these two guys.

Carrier then briefly deals with other criteria of authenticity such as coherence and multiple attestation. His discussion on the criterion of Aramaic context left a lot to be desired. Why? Because he pretty much just dismisses the possibility of the Greek text of the Gospels containing any Aramaisms, saying that any would just be the result of a Semitized Greek.

The last part of this review (a brief summary) will be posted tomorrow.

A Review of Proving History by Richard Carrier (Part III)

This is part III of my review of Richard Carrier’s book, Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus. Chapter 4 of Proving History discusses how all valid historical methods represent different applications of Bayesian reasoning and that methods which contravene Bayes’s Theorem are unsound. Chapter 6 tackles deeper issues regarding the application and applicability of Bayes’s Theorem. In between these two chapters is the glorious Chapter 5. This chapter provides us with the author’s analysis of the criteria of authenticity, seemingly with the intention of demonstrating that 1) they are useless, and 2) Bayes’s Theorem should be employed instead. I myself am not a huge believer in the criteria of authenticity and I think that the criterion of embarrassment in particular can be far too easily abused. I would prefer to read historical Jesus studies which focus on other methods (such as Dale Allison’s Constructing Jesus which I mentioned in Part I). Though I do think that some criteria can be used beneficially; there is something good to be said about the cumulative weight of the criteria when applied to Jesus traditions.

The author begins with a brief look at the criterion of dissimilarity. He then launches into an approx. 45 page assessment of the embarrassment criterion, examining several Jesus traditions that have been supported as authentic due to this criterion. At one point the author says:

Quite simply, it’s inherently unlikely that any Christian author would include anything embarrassing in his Gospel account, since he could choose to include or omit whatever he wanted … In contrast, it’s inherently likely that anything a Christian author included in his account, he did so for a deliberate reason, to accomplish something he wanted, since that’s how all authors behave, especially those with a specific aim of persuasion. (134)

So an author would never include anything that could be viewed as embarassing?! Brilliant logic. I wonder if Carrier would be consistent and apply this principle to all ancient texts? Or should this piece of delicious logic only apply if it is a “Christian author”?

Carrying on from the previous quote:

… (and as we can plainly see, all the Gospel authors picked and chose and altered whatever suited them – even Mark excluded a vast amount of material found in Matthew, Luke, and John, so unless that was all fabricated after Mark, Mark left out quite a lot that would have been as available to him as it was to them). (134)

Unless that was all fabricated after Mark!? Of course a lot of it was fabricated! Sheesh. This displays the mindset of the author which I saw in a few places throughout the book: He approaches the biblical text like a fundamentalist!fundamentalist

A few pages later is another example of this fundamentalist approach to the biblical text (as well as his general lack of knowledge of biblical studies):

Religions frequently rally around apparently embarrassing yet entirely false myths, often in defiance of common sense. The Jews were no exception. Contrary to current assumption, the execution of their messiah was believed to have been predicted by Daniel (Daniel 9:26; even more clearly in the Greek), yet he was widely recognized as an inspired prophet of God. (137)

He restates the important part a little bit later as well:

The fact that the OT very clearly did predict the execution of the messiah (Daniel is explicit, and had already convinced the Jews of Qumran) likewise refutes Meier’s claim that OT support must have been for sought for after the fact. (139)

Carrier says that “the execution of their messiah was believed to have been predicted by Daniel (Daniel 9:26; even more clearly in the Greek)”, and that “the OT very clearly did predict the execution of the messiah (Daniel is explicit, and had already convinced the Jews of Qumran)”. Ummm, that’s the conclusion you would arrive at if you only read commentaries on Daniel by fundamentalists. If you read some more balanced literature, you will see that the “messiah” in 9:26 is Onias III. And it wasn’t understood by pre-Christian Jews as indicating that a future eschatological messiah would arrive on the scene and be executed.bookofdaniel

Also, in a footnote to the first quote Carrier references 11QMelch ii.18 as making a connection between “the dying messiah of Daniel 9 to the suffering servant of Isaiah 52-53” and also points to a blog post of his which discusses this. No, the Qumran community did not connect a dying messiah of Daniel 9 to the suffering servant of Deutero-Isaiah. Carrier is wrong about a precedent for a dying messiah being found in 11QMelch. Of course, though, a lack of precedent does not necessarily mean that no one could have invented it. The tale of an eschatological messiah dying a shameful death that was ultimately redemptive could, in fact, have been invented without prior precedent. Though saying it is possible is not the same as saying it is plausible. And Carrier has utterly failed to show that it is a plausible hypothesis.

For anyone desiring to read a thorough refutation of Carrier’s nonsense about pre-Christian Jews already having a belief in a dying Messiah, then see Thom Stark’s lengthy (and humorous) postings here, here, here, and here. If you read those links you will also see more of Carrier’s gross incompetence when it comes to biblical studies, such as when Carrier says, “I also suspect the original meaning of “Christ prince” in [Daniel 9] verse 25, otherwise a strange construction, means two people, the Christ and the Prince, since those two are then mentioned together again in verse 26.” Yes, it is a strange construction if you know nothing about Hebrew.inigomontoya

More to come in Part IV…

A Review of Proving History by Richard Carrier (Part II)

Welcome to Part II of my review of Richard Carrier’s book, Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus.

In chapter 2 the author provides twelve axioms (pp. 20-37) and twelve rules (pp. 37-39) of the historical method. Nothing terribly controversial about these except for, as the author himself admitted, the second part of the first rule which states that one must “Obey… Bayes’s Theorem”. obeymydog

I will quote the second rule because not only is it a very sound piece of advice to follow, it also represents what I think is a deficiency in this book.

Rule 2: Develop wide expertise in the period, topics, languages, and materials that you intend to blaze any trails in, or else base all your assumption in these areas on the established (and properly cited) findings of those who have. (37)

I enjoy studying early Christianity. It may seem like a simple field of research to the lay person, but in reality it is complex and requires a multi-disciplinary approach. You have to deal with literary and non-literary sources: the former necessitating specialists in philology, palaeography, papyrology, and codicology; the latter covering such disciplines as epigraphy, archaeology, and numismatics. If one desires to study Christian origins then one has to study many diverse areas, from the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Nag Hammadi library (and, of course, the relevant languages: Hebrew, Aramaic, Greek, Coptic). When it comes to historical Jesus studies, one has to deal with composite texts and traditions. Does the author, Richard Carrier, demonstrate that he is knowledgeable in this area? We will see in Part III of this review. But first a quick overview of chapter 3.

Chapter 3 contains an introduction to Bayes’s Theorem. It is quite an informative chapter and I think the author did a pretty good job of dumbing it down for the mathematically challenged (such as myself). Of course, the author could be making horrendous mistakes in his application of Bayes’s Theorem, but since I am mathematically naïve I would not be cognizant of the fact.bayestheorem

In regards to the results obtained from using Bayes’s Theorem, Carrier states that we know they “are always necessarily true –if its premises are true”. What he means by ‘premises’ is “the probabilities we enter into the equation” (45). Yet as the author states, quantifying the relevant data so as to be able to input it into Bayes’s Theorem is a subjective endeavor, though he argues it is not an arbitrary one. He also says that “you must have reasons for your subjective estimates” and that “if you do have sufficient reasons, you need to ask if those reasons will be accepted by other reasonable people”. If they are, this “would then actually make them objective, since by definition objective reasons will be accessible and verifiable to all reasonable observers, who will thus all come to the same subjective estimate” (82).

Carrier seems to have high hopes concerning the ability of people to reach an agreement regarding the “subjective estimates” we should be plugging into Bayes’s Theorem. Color me a pessimist, but I am skeptical that such an agreement could be reached. As I noted in Part I of this review, it is silly to think that scholars with various ideological viewpoints would arrive at the same results by using the criteria of authenticity. The same holds for Carrier’s method of Bayesian reasoning. The different ideological stances of the people applying Bayes’s Theorem is going to generate disagreement on how to quantify all the relevant data.differingviewpoints

Additionally, I’m curious as to how how he himself is going to quantify all the data appropriately? How is he going to handle the composite texts and traditions? Will he be able to adequately separate the primary traditions from the secondary? How is he going to deal with the multitude of issues (e.g. matters of provenance, chronology, linguistics, etc) related to the Gospels, the Pauline epistles, and other Jesus traditions? How is he going to handle alternative positions on an issue? Will he simply accept the consensus and ignore any dissenting views? How is he going to work in the fact that he is not competent when it comes to Second Temple Judaism? Will it give his “subjective estimates” a large enough margin of error to make the results meaningless? I guess we will just have to wait until the second volume is released. Though from what I saw in this volume, I am not going to set my hopes up too high.

Is Bayes’s Theorem a practical and effective tool to use in historical studies or does it just provide only a veneer of rigor and logic? This is a question perhaps best left to the mathematically literate of us. I have found one review of Proving History from someone who seems relatively clued in on mathematics (I would also encourage the interested reader to read Carrier’s response to that review, as well as the great comment discussion that ensued). That same blogger also makes further posts on the subject here and here (the latter link is particularly interesting in my opinion). If anyone knows of other reviews which focus on the Bayesian reasoning of Proving of History (whether they support Carrier’s thesis or not) then drop a comment and let me know!

I will finish this part of the review with a quote from Ian’s blog post:

So, what can we learn?

Well, for one, the inputs to Bayes’s Theorem matter. Particularly small inputs. When we’re dealing with rare evidence for rare events, then small errors in the inputs can end up giving a huge range of outputs, enough of a range that there is no usable information to be had.

And those errors come from many sources, and are difficult to quantify. It is tempting to think of errors only in terms of the data acquisition error, and to ignore errors of choice and errors of reference class.

These issues combine to make it very difficult to make any sensible conclusions from Bayes’s Theorem in areas where probabilities are small, data is low quality, possible reference classes abound, and statements are vague. In areas like history, for example.

Stay tuned for Part III of this review.

A Review of Proving History by Richard Carrier (Part I)

I was recently browsing the latest books on Amazon concerning historical Jesus studies and came across Proving History: Bayes’s Theorem and the Quest for the Historical Jesus, written by the well-known blogger, Richard Carrier. I’ve read another book of his before, Why I am Not a Christian, which I consider to be by far the worst book I’ve read on the subject matter of atheism. So naturally I didn’t have my hopes up high for Proving History. fishDespite an early optimism brought on by a bold thesis in the first chapter followed by an insightful second chapter, I was eventually let down due to the author’s inelegance in his attempts to weave his way through the topic of Christian origins. It was like witnessing a fish out of water.

Why did I bother to read this book? In a nutshell, I find it strangely fascinating that there are people who believe that Jesus was not a historical figure (or who, like Carrier, seriously entertain the idea). This view seems to have gained ground in the online atheist community (e.g. I’ve come across many atheists on the anti-intellectual circlejerk known as r/atheism on Reddit who are Jesus mythicists). Though, of course, there doesn’t seem to be any scholars (in the relevant field) who argue for such a position.

[Note: I read this on the Kindle, so forgive me if any page numbers are incorrect]

This book is the first of a two-part volume. This volume introduces the problem with historical Jesus studies (as Carrier sees it) and offers up a solution… Bayes’s Theorem. The second volume (not sure when it is slated to be released) will then rigorously apply Bayes’s Theorem to historical Jesus studies.

The author begins in chapter 1 by providing his assessment of the state of historical Jesus research. He states quite unequivocally that:

The growing consensus now is that this entire quest for criteria has failed. The entire field of Jesus studies has thus been left without any valid method. (11)

…..

The quest for the historical Jesus has failed spectacularly. Several times. (12)

The “criteria” that the author mentions are the criteria of authenticity (e.g. dissimilarity, embarrassment, multiple attestation, and so forth). As Carrier notes, these criteria have been railed against by many scholars as having deficiencies and limitations, with some maybe even being outright useless. However, not all of them would then agree with the conclusion that the author derives from this – that the field of historical Jesus studies has “failed spectacularly” and “been left without any valid method”. Carrier quotes a couple scholars as follows:

As Helmut Koester concluded after his own survey, “The vast variety of interpretations of the historical Jesus that the current quest has proposed is bewildering.” James Charlesworth concurs, concluding that “what had been perceived to be a developing consensus in the 1980s has collapsed into a chaos of opinions.’”

That snippet from Charlesworth is from the introduction to Jesus Research: An International Perspective. Of course, while Charlesworth will readily acknowledge the diversity of views on the historical Jesus, he doesn’t see it as implying that the field of historical Jesus studies has “failed spectacularly” and has “been left without any valid method”. In the chapter this quote was taken from, Charlesworth discusses the profitability of “Jesus Research” (which seems to be his preferred term for the “third quest”) and says: “Imagination and reflections on topography, archaeological discoveries and realia help produce a more reliable depiction of Jesus…. The life and mind of Jesus from Nazareth is no longer lost in the fog of theological pronouncements.”facepalmjesus

A peculiarity I found in this opening chapter is that it seems like Carrier is equating historical Jesus studies with the methodology of the criteria of authenticity (which were employed by Käsemann in the ‘second’ or ‘new’ quest and by many in the ‘third’ quest). But not every historical Jesus study is reliant upon these criteria and other methods are being employed. In fact, Charlesworth briefly mentions a few in the chapter Carrier just quoted (e.g. Gerd Theissen and his emphasis on sociology). One that wasn’t mentioned by Charlesworth (no doubt because it hadn’t been published yet) is Dale Allison’s most recent work, Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History. In this volume Allison, who once embraced the criteria of authenticity, instead utilizes a contemporary cognitive study of memory and applies it to historical Jesus research. Using the Kindle search function I saw that Constructing Jesus is mentioned in one footnote by Carrier, though only in passing and not in any meaningful sense.

Carrier states his thesis again:

When everyone picks up the same method, applies it to the same facts, and gets a different result, we can be certain that the method is invalid and should be abandoned. (14)

This is a non sequitur. Carrier is arguing that since historians have used the same method (i.e. the criteria of authenticity), yet do not arrive at the exact same conclusion, this must mean “the method is invalid and should be abandoned”. But that conclusion does not follow. A more logical reason to explain the inconsistent depictions that emerge of the historical Jesus is the inevitable human element present in such undertakings. The scholars that are employing the criteria may hold different presuppositions which affect how they apply each criterion. Additionally, the data derived from applying the criteria can then be arranged in multitude of ways. The disparity in results is due, in part at least, to the unavoidable element of subjectivity in such an endeavor.nonsequitur

On a related note, I’m curious as to exactly what degree of accord amongst scholars is required before one can say that the method is valid? Does it have to be a sure and hard consensus? If so, can the unanimity be in regards to only a somewhat broad outline? e.g. that Jesus was an apocalyptic prophet who preached concerning the imminent inbreaking of God’s kingdom. Or do they have to agree on the historical Jesus down to every jot and tittle? I ponder this because apparently the unanimous consensus that there was indeed a historical Jesus isn’t enough to quell the doubts of some (e.g. Richard Carrier).

Carrier also says in this chapter that:

Historians must work together to develop a method that, when applied to the same facts, always gives the same result … The solution I propose involves understanding and applying Bayes’s Theorem (14, 16)

After reading this initial chapter I was very skeptical concerning the efficacy of the Bayesian approach the author puts forward as the panacea to historical Jesus studies. Needless to say…. [SPOILER ALERT]…. once I finished reading the book, my skepticism was unabated.

In Part II of this review I will offer up a few thoughts on the use of Bayes’s Theorem for historical Jesus studies, but since I am not a mathematician or historian by anyone’s standard, the usefulness of any comments in this regard will be severely limited and I can only leave it up to History to decide whether Carrier’s method is valid or not. I do, however, have a little bit of knowledge when it comes to early Christian studies and so in Part III of this review I will provide some comments to Carrier’s immediate forays into this area.

A Quick Review of The Outsider Test for Faith by John Loftus

A couple of weeks ago I received an unsolicited review copy from Prometheus Press of the most recent book from blogger John Loftus, The Outside Test for Faith: How to Know Which Religion is True. I’ve reviewed a few other books of which Loftus is the author or editor and while I (obviously) disagree with him when it comes atheism, I will readily admit that I have found his books to be more interesting and useful than some of the more popular ones (e.g. God is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens). He at least seems well-versed in evangelicalism (which shows through in the people he interacts with in this book e.g. Alvin Plantinga, Thomas Talbott, William Lane Craig, David Marshall, and Norman Geisler), though doesn’t seem as well acquainted with the broader Christian tradition (e.g. his discussion on universalism in pp. 48-49 leaves something to be desired).

The book begins with a brief introduction in which he states that he believes “skepticism offers the only way for believers to rationally test their faith”, and that the focus in this book is on “Christianity, especially evangelicalism, best represented by the Evangelical Theological Society and the Evangelical Philosophical Society” (pg. 7). Following this are ten chapters which I shall provide this very brief overview. The first chapter presents the Outsider Test for Faith (OTF). The OTF is comprised of a four point argument and the next few chapters delve into each of those four parts, explaining each point in more depth and interacting with what critics have said. The next few chapters deal with specific arguments against the OTF. The final two chapters put Christianity to the test and argue against faith in general. And this is followed by a concluding chapter.

As I mentioned before, the first chapter provides an explanation as to what exactly is the ‘Outsider Test for Faith’. The author begins by noting that “as children we were all raised as believers” and that “whatever our parents told us we believed” (13). This is true to such an extent that one can “even locate specific geographical boundary lines between different religious faiths around the globe” (13). He also notes that despite this fact “the strange thing is that even as adults we do not usually question our religious faiths” (14), thus “we need some sort of objective, unbiased, non-double-standard type of test in order to investigate what we were taught to believe” (15).

The OTF can be broken down into a four part argument which I shall summarize as follows: (1) there is lots of religious diversity in the world; (2) because of this religious diversity one can surmise that “one’s religious faith is causally dependent on brain processes, cultural conditions, and irrational thinking patterns” (15-16). These two points lead to (3) “at best there can be only one religious faith that is true. At worse, they could all be false” (16). Thus, the author proposes (4) “The only way to rationally test one’s culturally adopted religious faith is from the perspective of an outside, a nonbeliever, with the same level of reasonable skepticism believers already use when examining the other religious faiths they reject” (16-17).

I do not understand logic of these four steps. While I agree that the religious faith of some people is causally dependent upon their cultural upbringing, considering that fact that many people change their religious faith as they get older, this leaves a segment of society where (2) does not necessarily follow from (1), at least not when it comes to the issue of why one has chosen a specific religion. The second chapter discusses the fact of religious diversity in more detail. In it the author says:

Many evangelicals are exclusivist to a large degree. But this view simply cannot be maintained in the light of the amount of religious diversity in the world along with the subsequent rational disagreement about religious faiths among peers. If there is a God who wants us to believe in him, there would not be so much religious diversity around the globe. The probability that the Christian God exists is inversely proportional to the amount of religious diversity that exists (that is, the more religious diversity there is, the less probable it is that he exists), and there is way too much religious diversity to suppose that he does. (45)

“If there is a God who wants us to believe in him, there would not be so much religious diversity around the globe”. This is representative of some of the logic in this book. If God exists, then X must be true (why? because I say so). X is not true, therefore God does not exist.

Another curiosity of the premises behind the author’s OTF is that I can’t see where the heck (3) is coming from. Considering that religious faiths are not comprised of a solitary belief, but are instead comprised of numerous propositions (many of them being shared across religious faiths), then the force of (3) is undercut. But this is actually kind of irrelevant because the author presents no compelling case as to why (3) logically follows the premises of (1) and (2). Sure there is lots of religious diversity in the world and many people inherit their religious beliefs (and never change them). But the author’s proclamation that all religions are likely to be false does not logically follow from these facts. The author’s solution to the so-called ‘problem’ of religious diversity isn’t even a solution. Also, in (4) the author says that someone should approach their own religion with the “same level of reasonable skepticism” used when “examining the other religious faiths they reject”. Not everyone possesses a flippantly dismissive stance towards other religious faiths. I am as skeptical of my own religious tradition just as much as I am of others, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t choose one over another (and no, one doesn’t need empirical evidence in support of a religion in order to choose that one). Additionally, I don’t even agree that one needs to be an ‘outsider’ to be able to effectively critique a religion.

Further along in the first chapter, the author says that “the OTF grants that a religious faith can be reasonable” (17-18). Yet he also says:

I argue that religious faiths do not pass the OTF. I argue that by its very nature faith cannot pass the OTF because faith is always unreasonable. I argue that the problem is faith itself. With faith as a foundation, anything can be believed, so informed people should reject faith altogether. … Again, it is possible that there could be a religion that passes the test… But I argue… that because of the nature of faith, no faith passes the outside test. Sufficient evidence just doesn’t exist for any faith. (19)

And then towards the end of the book he says this: “I argue that any believer who claims to have successfully taken and passed the OTF has not done so properly” (172). He also says that this is not due to “any pretheoretic commitment” on his part, but rather comes as “[his own] result of applying the OTF” (172). What can one do but LOL at such a statement?! He is effectively saying, “Look! I took my religion through the OTF and it failed, therefore everyone else will arrive at the same result”. Tight logic there, sir.

The first chapter then takes a look at some precursors to the OTF, naturally showing that the author is simply following in the footsteps of Socrates, Descartes, Hume, and even Thomas Jefferson! Towards the end of the chapter the author describes how the OTF relates to those pesky liberal people of faith:

The more conservative, exclusivist, and pseudoscientific the religious faith is, the more helpful the OTF will be. The more liberal, inclusivist, and accepting of scientifically based reasoning the religious faith is, the less important the OTF will be. But it is important for all types of religious faiths, to various degrees. (30)

Being the quasi-universalist that I am, I naturally fall under the second umbrella in the author’s bifurcation of believers into ‘conservative’ and ‘liberal’ groups. However, as the author says, because liberals still accept faith-based reasoning they “are not off the book” (30). And as one finds in chapter 10, the author has a little bit of disdain towards faith-based reasoning.

On at least a few occasions throughout the book, the author states that one’s religious beliefs should be based on “sufficient evidence”. In the third chapter he discusses how one’s religious beliefs are “not a matter of independent rational judgment” (53) but rather, “to an overwhelming degree, one’s religious faith is causally dependent on brain processes, cultural conditions, and irrational thinking patterns” (53). I agree that, for many people, their religious faith is causally dependent upon their upbringing. Yet, of course, many people change as their religious faith as they get older and think for themselves. Of course, the author will say that such cases are still the result of irrational judgments and that we should require “sufficient evidence based on scientific reasoning before coming to any firm conclusions about religion” (72). But the author fails to convince me of this.

Why should I believe a foundationalist and empiricist/verificationist outlook? Is this the only way to acquire true knowledge? [note: By “foundationalist” I mean the idea that knowledge resembles a progression where you commence with some basic or intuitive ideas (e.g. the Cogito Ergo Sum of Descartes), with more complex ones being added onto that foundation. By “empiricist/verificationist” I mean the idea that knowledge is only legitimate to the extent that it has been proven or verified].

This is what I see when I’m reading Loftus in The Outsider Test for Faith: “Christianity (and every other religion) is false as there is no legit evidence or verifiable data to back up its extraordinary claims and I only believe what I can see. I only believe in science because empiricism and inductive logic can withstand all challenges.” Now, before I am castigated for being an anti-empiricist or some such thing, I should mention that I do not have anything against an empiricist viewpoint. I do not, however, accept that the author’s empiricism is the only way to obtain true knowledge, nor do I accept naturalism [by “naturalism” I do not mean methodological naturalism (i.e. science) but rather ontological naturalism, that is, the philosophical position that everything that exists is composed of the natural material elements and thus is susceptible to scientific explanation through methodological naturalism].

Also, this raises the question as to what exactly constitutes “sufficient evidence”. If a person was asked why they believe in God and/or why they are a Christian and their response is: “An angel visited me one evening and told me that Jesus Christ is Lord”. Would that person be right in saying that this is sufficient evidence for their Christian faith? I know that this hypothetical person would have a hard time convincing other people to believe in the Christian God simply due to their own personal experience, but the important thing is that it would be sufficient enough for their own Christian faith. Can personal ‘revelations’ or experiences play any legitimizing role in one’s own personal faith? Considering I do not hold to naturalism and that I have experienced some weird shit to which I have not found an adequate natural explanation, I would answer yes.

If one has gone through experiences that one is sure are not susceptible to an ordinary naturalistic explanation, is that sound enough reasoning for them to believe in a supernatural explanation? For someone who holds to naturalism, then the answer is no. But considering that the author’s philosophically devoid arguments did not convince me to embrace his empiricist and naturalist viewpoint, I would have to disagree and say yes. I support the evidential value of one’s own experiences. I know that many people will reject the evidential value of ‘supernatural’ phenomena and will say it is insufficient to warrant the remarkable claims people say it led them to (i.e. belief in gods, afterlife, etc). That is all well and good. I would not expect other people’s personal experiences to change a skeptic’s opinion. But if one experiences something to which they find naturalistic explanations inadequate, and said person is not a fundamentalist dogmatist who must simply reject a supernatural explanation just because it is a ‘supernatural’ one, then such experiences are good enough reason for themselves to believe in the existence of the supernatural and so forth.

Anywho, I was planning on writing more on this review but its late and I need to get some shut-eye. In a nutshell, this book argues that people should approach their own religious faith with the same level of skepticism that they approach other religious faiths. Amazing that an entire book could be written on this! Unfortunately, the book lacks any philosophical depth (but makes up for it in non sequiturs), is poorly argued, and is primarily aimed towards the exclusivist and conservative faiths (esp. evangelicalism). So it isn’t really useful except for maybe someone who has never given critical thought to their religious beliefs before. 

Oh yea, one more thing. The blurbs to this book are atrocious. Here is but one example: “A must-read for believers and any atheists who want to debate them. Superbly argued, air­tight, and endlessly useful, this should be everyone’s first stop in the god debate.” –Richard Carrier. I know blurbs are usually ridiculous but Merciful Mother in heaven, did he even read the book?!

Quick Reviews of a Few Political Books

For the record, I would describe my own political viewpoint as “progressive”, though I do have a libertarian streak in me. Also, I abhor both the Democrat and Republican parties, though the so-called “religious right” faction makes me dislike the Republican Party slightly more than the Democrat Party.

Liberty and Tyranny: A Conservative Manifesto by Mark Levin

I had gathered the impression from the ever-reliable interwebs that the author, Mark Levin, is the much-desired reasonable and intellectual conservative (as opposed to Cerberus’ offspring, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh). Unfortunately, that impression was totally wrong. While Levin indeed does come across as sounding much more intelligent than the likes of Coulter and Limbaugh, this book is ultimately just full of the same useless tripe. The entire book is soaked in the “us vs. them” mentality, which Levin defines as the “Conservatives” versus the “Statists”. The latter term is Levin’s term for the “Modern Liberal”, though he doesn’t really think liberals are classically liberal, but in actuality are proponents of a form of tyranny (Spoiler Alert: Conservatives are good and Statists are bad).

If you desire a fair and reasonable argument for the conservative position, then this book is definitely not it. Levin just provides an overly simplistic and dualistic ideological conflict between the heroic Conservative and his silly caricature of the Liberal (oh sorry, the “Statist”). While I understand this book is a “conservative manifesto”, and thus is going to argue for a conservative ideology, it would be nice if it did at least attempted to do so in a fair and balanced manner. For instance, why a complete misportrayal of what the scientific community says regarding global warming? Why no mention of deregulation of the financial industry when discussing the causes of the 2008 burst of the housing bubble? Why portray unregulated laissez-faire market exchange as a wonderful idea without a discussion on failings with the free-market? The author does his best to keep his readers at an epistemic distance from facts and arguments leveled against the conservative views (the chapter on the environment was beyond atrocious).

Demonizing the opposition is this book in a nutshell. It’s mantra is that anyone who is not entirely for us, is against us and a proponent of tyranny. I could only recommend this book to anyone wanting an exemplar of a political propaganda machine in full force which replaces thoughtfulness with invective.

What You Should Know About Politics…But Don’t: A Nonpartisan Guide to the Issues by Jessamyn Conrad

I wish I had of read this when I first came to America in 2008! It would have saved a lot of time and trouble trying to cut through all the partisan BS one finds in most political writings. This is not to say that this book is the epitome of objective non-partisan political commentary (because I don’t think it is), but the author does a decent job at providing a balanced overview of a multitude of issues in contemporary US politics: foreign policy, civil liberties, the economy, the military, health care, energy, etc. I do think, however, that there is maybe a left-leaning bias that shines through in some places, though for the most part it is just the author framing the debate on an issue without offering her own judgment on it. One section in this book actually had me laughing out loud:

In the 1980s deficit hawks were usually Republicans, but now most are Democrats. That may really have to do with who is in power at any given time: it’s in the majority party’s interest to spend money, and it’s in the minority’s to criticize them for it.

Note how the author says that “now” (at the time of writing), most deficit hawks are Democrats. That makes sense once you realize the book was written in 2008 (when there was a Republican in the White House and government spending had been increasing a lot over the past five years). But now that the Democrats are in the White House, they are the ones saying its in our best interest to spend money, whereas the Republicans are now again the deficit hawks. Fickle politicians!

White House Burning: Our National Debt and Why It Matters to You by Simon Johnson and James Kwak

This book was great. In the first few chapters the authors take you on a voyage through the history of the United States and its relationship with national debt. Topics discussed range from Alexander Hamilton’s view on the economy, the financial failure of the 1812 war, the Great Depression, and (my favorite part) the Bretton Woods agreement. This is followed by a couple of chapters which discuss the factors behind today’s deficits and what it may mean for the future. The final couple of chapters are the authors’ ideas as to how we should responsibly reduce our deficits and debt.

The authors’ approach is practically beyond reproach. I mean, they do have their own views (obviously!) which do come across in the book. For instance, they are advocates for social insurance programs (e.g. Social Security and Medicare), yet they explain “why” in a good manner; instead of arguing that those who oppose such programs lack compassion and are selfish (or whatever), they explain (in a Keynesianesque manner) that it is economically rational to fund these programs by pooling the risk across the whole country. Another example is seen in how they repudiate the notion that cutting taxes is a panacea that invariably promotes economic growth, but they do so without resorting to the “Republicans are idiots” slant that you find with some Democrat commentators. No cheap shots here. Apart from the classy discussion of a very contentious political issue, another superb feature of this book are the footnotes! There are hundreds and hundreds of footnotes providing factual and substantive resources to back up their claims.

This is a great quote from the authors:

In one of history’s ironies, the economy was blown up not by the government debt that politicians had inveighed against for decades, but by private sector debt that banks had been manufacturing as fast as they could–and it was the federal government that had to pick up the pieces.

Review of The Early Text of the New Testament (Part III)

earlytextTitle: The Early Text of the New Testament

Editors: Charles Hill and Michael Kruger

Bibliographic info: xiv + 413 + 69

Cover: Hard with Dust-jacket

Publisher: Oxford University Press, 2012

Buy it at Amazon

With thanks to the kind folk at OUP for the review copy!

Part I and Part II of this review.

The third section of this wonderful volume is on the early citation/use of New Testament writings. The first chapter in this section, chapter 14 (pp. 261-81), is from the pen of editor Charles Hill. The main thrust of his contribution is that it is too simplistic, and ultimately wrong, to take loose citations of the NT in other early Christian writings as support for a NT text different to that found in actual NT manuscripts. Neither should it be taken as support for “an erratic NT text” (262) in the second century, which only became more uniform due to a hypothetical late recension of the text. Regarding the ‘loose’ citations of the NT writings by early Christian authors (e.g. Justin), Hill says:

Literary Christians inherited, took part in, and contributed to a literary culture, Greek, Roman, and Jewish, which did not consider that the chief purpose of literary borrowing was to guarantee for the reader an exact replication of the text appropriated. (277)

In other words, these early Christian writers inherited from both the Greco-Roman and Jewish cultures a literary approach which did not necessarily treasure the exact duplication of the text being cited (he provides evidence in support of this notion by inspecting examples of citations from the larger literary environment). Hill also makes the intriguing suggestion that this literary borrowing method may in fact “offer a partial explanation” for the resemblance between the NT text used by many patristic writers and the so-called Western text – “which is often seen not as a recension but as a tendency in copying.” (281)

The next chapter (pp. 282-301) is contributed by Paul Foster and is about the text of the New Testament to be found in the writings of the Apostolic Fathers. The texts he examines are (predictably) the Didache, 1 & 2 Clement, the Shepherd of Hermas, the Epistle of Barnabas, the epistles of Ignatius, and Polycarp’s Epistle to the Philippians. Not surprisingly, considering the dearth of NT quotes in the AF, he concludes that the loose citations of the NT text in the AF provides “no conclusive evidence for identifying the forms of the text of the NT which may have been in circulation in the second century” (300). He also makes the note that since the copies of the AF we possess date to the fourth century at the earliest, it would be “potentially naïve” to align them with a certain text type of the NT. For anyone interested in this topic, an exhaustive study of it can be found in The Reception of the New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers (ed’s Andrew Gregory and Christopher Tuckett; OUP, 2005).

Next up is Dieter Roth’s chapter on Marcion and the early NT text (pp. 302-12). This short chapter is an evaluation on what we can know about the Gospel and Pauline epistles known to Marcion. Joseph Verheyden (pp. 313-31) then takes a look at Justin’s text of the Gospels as found in First Apology 15.1-8, with the underlying question being as to whether the citation is best explained by a stylistic or compositional rationale, or whether it indicates that he had access to a different Gospel text.

Tjitze Baarda is the author of the next chapter (pp. 336-49) and is on Tatian’s Diatessaron and the Greek text of the Gospels (note that Baarda believes the Diatessaron was originally written in Greek, not Syriac). This was one of the top essays in this volume in my opinion, though it is not a simple read! He concludes by saying: “it is my conviction that it is not possible to make the Diatessaron a standard witness in any apparatus” (348), and that “one has to be very cautious in attributing the label ‘Diatessaron’ to a specific Greek (variant) reading in the apparatus, even if one might be quite certain that Tatian had read that reading or perhaps created it” (349). Though Baarda does add the caveat that the Diatessaron could be an important witness “if we possessed it in its original Greek form” (349).

Chapter 19 (pp. 350-69), my favorite in the volume, is from Stanley Porter and is on the relationship between the NT text and the apocryphal gospels. While Porter determines that the evidence of the Greek NT in the early apocryphal gospels is relatively scant, those who do use the canonical Gospels typically improved, modified, or conflated the canonical Gospels. Furthermore, the Gospel of John oftentimes is drawn upon in the apocryphal gospels too, either on its own or together with the Synoptics. The most interesting conclusion of Porter’s is that from the evidence of the apocryphal gospels we can say that “the text of the Greek New Testament was relatively well established and fixed by the time of the second and third centuries” (369). One thing I should mention about this chapter is that there is a lot of Greek text in it and Porter does use syntax terminology quite heavily (e.g. predicates, modifiers, complements, etc). Reading this essay will definitely challenge your Greek reading skills and understanding of syntax!

Chapter 20 (pp. 370-92) is written by D. Jeffrey Bingham and Billy R. Todd, Jr. This contribution is a dense study on Irenaeus’s text of the Gospels in Adversus haereses. While Porter’s essay may have had a decent amount of Greek text in it, this one is completely laden with pages (!) of tables and statistics. If I blindly picked this book up and opened it to a page in this chapter, I would think I had opened up a critical edition of the Greek NT. There are entire pages listing the passages to be found in Adversus haereses from Matthew, Luke, and John, together with a whole bunch of textual variants and the manuscript evidence for each of them. This is accompanied by pages of tables displaying statistical analysis of the relationship between Irenaeus and the various text types (Alexandrian, Byzantine, Caesarean, and Western) of the Gospels. All I can say is thank the heavens for the concluding summary!

The final chapter (393-413) in this volume is Carl Cosaert’s essay on Gospel citations in Clement of Alexandria. This is similar to the previous essay in that it too contains lots of statistical tables, though this chapter is only meant to be a brief summary of the findings in Cosaert’s fuller study on this topic which is found in the monograph series The New Testament in the Greek Fathers (called The Text of the Gospels in Clement of Alexandria; SBL, 2008) One of his more interesting conclusions is that “Clement’s text was not monolithic” (413). For while Clement “shares his highest levels of agreement with other Alexandrian fathers” (412), his Gospel citations do not evince the dominance of a sole text type. Instead, Clement demonstrates the existence of two major textual streams during his time: the Alexandrian and Western (with a few Byzantine readings thrown in for good measure).

The book closes with the standard fare: a bibliography and indices of biblical citations, Greek manuscripts, and subjects. This volume is undoubtedly going to be a key reference work on the text of the NT in early Christianity for some time, but it is quite expensive at $150 (so I am very grateful to OUP for the gratuitous review copy)! I wouldn’t recommend anyone to spend that much money on a book, well at least not on a new book – if it was signed first edition of some old book, then sure! Perhaps a relatively inexpensive paperback copy will be released in a year or so, but until then I recommend that you pester your seminary/university library to purchase a copy of it!

Review of The Early Text of the New Testament (Part II)

earlytextTitle: The Early Text of the New Testament

Editors: Charles Hill and Michael Kruger

Bibliographic info: xiv + 413 + 69

Cover: Hard with Dust-jacket

Publisher: Oxford University Press, 2012

Buy it at Amazon

With thanks to the kind folk at OUP for the review copy!

Part I of this review.

The second section of The Early Text of the New Testament consists of nine chapters, eight of which is devoted to an examination of the early textual tradition of a book or section of the Greek New Testament, achieved by examining the extant papyri. The following are the chapters in this section along with their respective authors:

5. The Early Text of Matthew – Tommy Wasserman (pp. 83-107)
6. The Early Text of Mark – Peter Head (pp. 108-120)
7. The Early Text of Luke – Juan Hernández (pp. 121-139)
8. The Early Text of John – Juan Chapa (pp. 140-156)
9. The Early Text of Acts – Christopher Tuckett (pp. 157-174)
10. The Early Text of Paul and Hebrews – James Royse (pp. 175-203)
11. The Early Text of The Catholic Epistles – J. K. Elliott (pp. 204-224)
12. The Early Text of Revelation – Tobias Nicklas (pp. 225-238)
13. Where Two or Three are Gathered Together: Evaluating Agreements between Two or More Early Versions – Peter Williams (pp. 239-258)

I will not enter into a summary of each and every chapter. In regards to chapters 5 through 12, I will point out that the authors do not necessarily approach the task at hand with the same methods. For instance, J.K. Elliot’s contribution on the Catholic Epistles (CE) is able to make use of the Editio Critica Maior (which has been completed for the CE). He compares the reconstructed text of the CE found in the ECM to that of the text of the CE in the extant papyri, noting when each manuscript has readings that are for or against the text of the ECM. The other contributors can not do this (for the obvious reason that the ECM is only complete for the CE). For others, the difference in method is simply due, in part at least, to the differing nature of the manuscript available for the author to examine, e.g. Peter Head’s chapter on the Gospel of Mark doesn’t really have many papyri it can make good use of.

Another issue I should mention is that there is no consistent way in which the authors refer to the papyri in terms of categories; most (all?) of the authors use categories (strict, free, normal) that relate how close the manuscript is to the (reconstructed) original text (i.e. the text found in the Nestle-Aland edition), but some also use the text-type categories (Alexandrian, Western, Caesarean, Byzantine), while others do not. If I recall correctly, most of these chapters included tables of the papyri, though there was a few (maybe just one or two) that did not, and among those that did there was a little bit of variation on the details in the table. Additionally, there are other differences in the contributions in this section: some of the authors have more of a focus on what the manuscripts say in regards to specific textual variants, some lay emphasis on the use of nomina sacra in the manuscript, etc. None of this should be taken as a criticism of this section; it’s just a heads up in case a potential buyer/reader thought that each chapter would use the same method, format, details, etc.

I do feel, though, that the general aim of this section (i.e. providing a window on the early textual tradition of the NT by focusing on the papryi evidence) may only cement into place, for the (layman, novice, or armchair textual critic) reader, that the papyri are some sort of magical witness to the early text. Though I guess this notion is actually mitigated by the chapters themselves, as they do effectively note that not all papyri are made equal; they do not all really deserve the attention that is pushed upon them simply by virtue of being written on papyrus and having palaeographers dating them to a (relatively) early date. Take for instance P72, consisting of a full witness to the text of 1 Peter, 2 Peter, and Jude. Sure, it is our earliest witness to these texts, but the text in P72 isn’t exactly the most useful when it comes to determining the original/earliest text (due to scribe being very careless and possessing an obvious theological tendency in what he wrote down, e.g., see his reading of theos christos in the well-known textual variant in Jude 5).

I will briefly comment on the last chapter in this section, by Peter Williams, as it is different to the others in that it deals with the witness of the earliest versions of the NT, specifically in how it is not such a clear and simple task at determining the underlying vorlage of a Syriac manuscript of the NT (he focuses upon the Syro-witnesses to Mark and Luke 24). The following is a snippet from his concluding thoughts: “It appears that often citation of versions in the textual apparatus without due consideration of their translation technique gives the misleading impression that the support for a particular variant is much stronger than it really is” (258).

All of these chapters are obviously a great read if you are into textual criticism and are no doubt an invaluable resource if you are an active researcher in this field. I will get the third and final part of this review up in a day or two (hopefully).

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