Jesus is Just Alright

…Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are a bunch of practical jokers who meet somewhere and decide to have a contest.  They invent a character, agree on a few basic facts, and then each one's free to take it and run with it.  At the end, they'll see who's done the best job.  The four stories are picked up by some friends who act as critics: Matthew is fairly realistic, but insists on that Messiah business too much; Mark isn't bad, just a little sloppy; Luke is elegant, no denying that; and John takes the philosophy a little too far.  Actually, though, the books have an appeal, they circulate, and when the four realize what's happening, it's too late.  Paul has already met Jesus on the road to Damascus, Pliny begins his investigation ordered by the worried emperor, and a legion of apocryphal writers pretends to know plenty…

In Umberto Eco's novel Foucault's Pendulum, the employees of a publisher specializing in esoteric texts find themselves caught in a vast, centuries-spanning conspiracy, a plot that is, ironically, of their own creation. Through telling and retelling, and spread to the community of those interested in conspiracies, the plot becomes, possibly, real.  Casaubon, the narrator, makes the point of how narratives can structure reality by offering this possible version of the origin of Christianity.  Though it is never quite clear whether Casuabon believes what he says, his larger point is that the truth of a particular story, if truth is described by whether it happened or not, is not as important as the perceived truth of that story.  People act on what they believe to be true.  This point is manifest by the end of the novel, as he awaits his (real or imagined) doom at the hands of conspiracy theorists who have come to believe the truth of The Plan, his Templar conspiracy.

While Eco (and perhaps his narrator) presents this as fiction, it seems that there is a cadre of atheists who would find this explanation of Christianity's birth congenial, at least to judge by an article that's been making the rounds of places like Salon, Alternet, and Rawstory about the historicity of Jesus of Nazareth.  It reminds us that most scholars accept the existence of a man around whom the myths of Christianity were built, but tells us about a growing Jesus Myth movement that is questioning even this.  Their critique of earlier scholars is that they were Christians, and so had an interest in keeping alive the story of the man Jesus.  Based on the lack of evidence and the problematic nature of the Gospels, they conclude that Jesus never existed and that the Gospel writers, especially Matthew, Mark, and Luke, were in the business of "historicizing mythology" when they gave their supposed eyewitness accounts to the life and ministry of Jesus.

There's nothing new in this denial; what is new, at least to me, is the certainty of it.  I have suggested before that certainty is, at best, an elusive thing in consideration of the existence of God.  Asserting a definitive answer one way or another seemed then like a failure of imagination, and I suggested humility in approaching the question.  I would like to suggest that those positively asserting the non-existence of Jesus approach the question with a similar humility.  Also, to suggest that there may be more important matters to expend energy on.  Christians, and most scholars, will not likely be moved by argument from accepting at least the likely historicity of Jesus.  Nor should they be, since the arguments against the existence of the historical Jesus are at least as thin as arguments for him.

Central to these arguments is the lack of first-century historical evidence for Jesus.  Indeed, only the Gospels and a couple of references by the Jewish-Roman historian Flavius Josephus attest to his having existed, and the earliest of these was written 30 or so years after Jesus' purported execution.  Surely, these writers suggest, Jesus would appear somewhere in the official records of the Roman Empire.

Says who?  Jesus, if he existed, was a rabble-rousing peasant, an itinerant preacher of the coming kingdom of God, a miracle worker and would-be Messiah, one of many in Judea.  He was executed for sedition, as were many others, in a manner befitting criminals. Following his death, his disciples appear to have kept quiet. In other words, he was pretty unremarkable, and there's no reason to expect him to appear in the historical record. Roman historians tended not to focus on provincial matters, only on those directly affecting Italy, and so the goings-on in the wilds of Judea would hardly register.  What's surprising is not that there are so few first-century mentions of him, but that there are any.  Clearly he had gained a following that found a way to continue after his death, primarily through the efforts of Paul, but also through those who had known him in life.

The next front of the battle, then, is to attack the reliability of the Gospels and the references in Josephus as witnesses to the historical person of Jesus.  It's easy to do so.  Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the so-called synoptic Gospels, differ on significant points.  But the Gospels are not presenting history as we understand it, they are heaping myths on the character of Jesus.  Through their placement of his birth in Bethlehem, the references to his ancestry, stories of his ministry, execution, and resurrection, the Gospel writers were making Jesus intelligible to both pagan and Jewish audiences. As to Josephus, he exists in texts only dating from the eleventh century and later, and though there are early quotations of the references in Josephus, these come from Christian authors like Origen and Eusebius.

These facts make them vulnerable to the charge that all first-century references to Jesus were fabricated by Christians interested in perpetuating the myth of a historical figure at the heart of a religion that was striving for legitimacy.  Part of the process of Christian apologetics was establishing the truth of the Christian faith, and how better to do this than to start with a real person, one who seemed to satisfy the requirements of the Jewish Messiah and could be understood by Gentiles? But this does not foreclose the possibility of Jesus' existence; it simply casts serious doubt on the claims made about him.

Besides, it's not as though the Gospel writers and Christian scribes are the only partisans in this debate. Just as one might look at the Gospels and Josephus and see the hand of interested parties at work, it is equally possible to see self-interest in the work of those attacking these texts as proof of the historical Jesus.  This is because purveyors of the "Christ myth" idea are as involved in apologetics as those they accuse of creating the myth of Jesus.  As I noted above, a partial aim of Christian apologists was to demonstrate the truth of their faith.  Another partial aim was to demonstrate the falsity of other religions, leaving Christianity as the only viable option.

Though I am loath to call atheism a religion, I have elsewhere noted certain religious tendencies among some atheists.  Among these are seemingly millennial expectations that the world will be transformed once religion is abandoned, a push for a rough atheist orthodoxy, proselytizing, and, now, apologetics.  None of this is really surprising, and means there might be a very interesting discussion to be had about whether modern atheism might be considered a Christian heresy.  Heretical or not, it shows just how indebted some atheists are to the deep Christian intellectual tradition that modern atheism reacted against.

I find this ironic and, in some respects, funny.  Not satisfied with the evidence showing the construction of Jesus the Christ, it seems as though some atheists cannot be secure in their atheism unless any factual basis for religion, especially Christianity, can be eliminated.  My own approach to being an atheist is that you face facts, even inconvenient ones, with reason.  You don't try to change the facts.

And, let's face it, whether I've convinced you Jesus of Nazareth existed or not (not my goal; I actually don't care), for all intents and purposes his existence is a fact.  It is accepted by a majority of historians, both religious and non-religious; Christians, Muslims, and Jews accept him as a historical figure, though they clearly differ over his importance. If he didn't exist, the world certainly functions as though he did; the perception of truth is strong.  Thus those challenging his existence have the burden of proof, and it is a duty that, if we are intellectually honest, cannot be fully discharged.

We can cast doubt upon the veracity of the Gospels, but who, really, except for some Christians thinks every word of them is literally true?  We can quibble over whether no, some, or all of the references in Josephus were later interpolations.  But in the end, we are left with interpretations.  To say that inconclusive evidence allows for a definitive conclusion, either way, is to rest on faith.  Since the challenge cannot definitively rule Jesus out, we are forced to err on the side of caution.

We are left, then, with a sort of Rorschach test which allows a spectrum of responses.  At either end will be those who, with absolute certainty, declare positively that Jesus existed or that he did not.  In between there is the agnostic middle, who see the references and generally agree that where there's smoke, there's fire.

Who's right?  Who's wrong? 

Who cares?

This debate, ultimately, will change nothing.  The world will not be improved one whit if even a majority was to become convinced Jesus the man didn't, or probably didn't, exist.  Christianity is not going to fold up and shuffle off to some Island of Misfit Faiths. We'll never know for sure whether he existed, and the time we spend arguing over it could be better spent on issues that actually make a difference. 

My own position is in the agnostic middle.  When asked by my students, I say that there was probably a preacher named Jesus who gained a following by preaching the coming of God's kingdom on Earth, who gained a following, and later was transformed into something more by his followers.  Can I be certain? No, and I can live with the uncertainty.  Though he may never be my friend, Jesus is just alright with me.

The WTC Cross Case and other Wastes of Time

In the case of American Atheists v. Port Authority, the Second District court determined that display of the so-called "Ground Zero Cross" at the September 11 Memorial Museum did not constitute an impermissible promotion of "Christianity in violation of the Establishment Clause and deny atheists equal protection of the laws by displaying the Cross at Ground Zero in the Museum unaccompanied by some item acknowledging that atheists were among the victims and rescuers on September 11."  Having previously rejected arguments that display of the Cross was government promotion of Christianity, the court in this case rejected that there was any religious purpose in displaying the Cross at all.

As an atheist, an historian, and an American, I can only say "Thank God."  

So to speak.

The story of the cross is well-known.  In the days after the September 11 attacks it was found amidst the rubble of the World Trade Center, two steel beams at right angles, suggesting to some viewers the shape of a Latin cross.  It was pulled from the rubble and remained on-site on a platform for almost six years, a site of prayer services where people from all faiths or no faith were welcome.  According to the draft for the display, Franciscan priest Brian Jordan offered communion there to anyone who sought it.  When reconstruction began, the Cross was moved to a church and it was returned to the Port Authority for use in the Memorial Museum.

In suing, American Atheists sought to have the Cross removed, suggesting that government agencies were promoting Christianity by its prominent display in the museum.  Once again, the organization shows itself to be tone-deaf in dealing with other segments of society.  Designed to promote separation of church and state, a laudable goal in my opinion, it also seeks to raise the profile of atheists in general, usually through actions like this, or billboards encouraging believers to dump their religion in favor of atheism.  Such an approach, one characterized by this case, diverts much-needed resources from the actual secularism fight in favor of theatrics.

Cases like these do atheists no favors, nor do those who decry the ruling as "[reinforcing) the notion that the courts are biased, and that Christianity enjoys a privileged status."  They simply give credence to claims like those made by the right-wing American Center for Law and Justice, who see this case as a  "profound defeat for those who wish to drive faith not just out of the public square, but out of public memory."  There is already a general perception among the religious that atheists are untrustworthy for the simple reason of their atheism.  Those who wonder why politicians stay away from atheists as a group might think about actions like this as one possible reason.  They certainly don't help us overcome deep-seated trust issues. For many, religiosity is a proxy marker for trustworthiness; we are already at a disability.

Going after the most innocuous of religious symbols is another tactic that seems purposely designed to alienate us from our religious fellow citizens.  Following its discovery, the Cross became a well-known symbol of hope, at least for religious believers, at the World Trade Center site.  Its inclusion in a display called "Finding Meaning at Ground Zero," where it is to be placed with other works wrought from the steel of the site, is entirely appropriate.  It is part of the story of the tragedy of September 11 and its aftermath.  As an historian, I would be appalled if it were not included, as it was a part of the story for so many who worked and visited the site.  To exclude it because some artifact symbolizing atheists, an artifact that no one seems to have made, is not on display seems churlish at the very least.

Stepping back, and looking at the situation objectively, it is easy to say that the whole idea of the Cross is silly.  Given the way skyscrapers are constructed, how could workers not have found two steel beams at right angles to one another?  The skeletal structure of any building could be conceived of as a skein of crosses.  Obviously, the Cross is in the eye of the beholder.

But this is what humans do.  We imbue objects with meaning, whether a piece of a saint's bone, the hem of a holy man's garment, a piece of rubble suggestive of a religious symbol, or an autographed baseball.  We tell stories and make magic, investing things with our hopes and dreams, making them, in anthropological terms, fetishes.  

In the face of enormous tragedy, it is not at all strange that Christians would do this to an object bearing a resemblance to the symbol of their faith.  It is not surprising that they made a fetish of the Cross at Ground Zero.  What is surprising is how many atheists have done the same thing.

State Religions, Clarence Thomas and the Incorporation Doctrine

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

In the recent Supreme Court case of Town of Greece V. Galloway, the high court attempted to determine "whether the town of Greece, New York, imposes an impermissible establishment of religion by opening its board meetings with a prayer."  Such prayers had been initiated in 1999, before which for a long time meetings had been opened with a moment of silence.  Most of these prayers have been conducted by Christian chaplains and many have been overtly sectarian.  The majority concluded that prayers opening such meetings have been consistently held not to violate the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment and that "[a]bsent a pattern of prayers that over time denigrate, proselytize, or betray and impermissible government purpose, a challenge based solely on the content of the prayer will likely not establish a constitutional violation."  As long as participation is not coerced, the prayers pass constitutional muster. 

Reaction to the decision has been predictable.  Civil libertarians and committed secularists have seen this as the vanguard of a push to establish religion at the local level.  Religious sectarians have not been helpful in this regard, suggesting that the decision enables local governments to exclude minority religious groups from conducting such prayers.  Many, on both sides, are focusing on the concurrence authored by Clarence Thomas, which suggests that the Establishment Clause may not be binding on the states arguing, in essence, that states can establish their own churches.

This is not a new argument.  The Bill of Rights was, of course, an addition to the federal Constitution.  Its proposal was a condition of ratification for states like Massachusetts, New York, and Virginia, without which the new nation would not stand.  Proponents of the Bill of Rights wanted it included because they feared that the strong central government built by the Constitution could too easily trample on the rights of citizens.  It was intended, therefore, as a bulwark against federal authority, not binding on the states.  Indeed, the Constitution binds the states only when it explicitly says it does.  For what other reason would states have found it necessary to include bills of rights in their own constitutions?

In matters of religion, the difference is easy to see.  History shows us that at the time of ratification, six states still had religious establishments of varying types.  Massachusetts' establishment lasted the longest, ending only in 1833.  This occurred, as associate Justice Joseph Story noted in that same year "without the slightest suspicion, that it was against the principles of public law, or republican liberty."  States voluntarily gave up their establishments.  So, while the federal government could not establish a religion, states were apparently free to do so.

What stops them from doing so now?  Primarily the Fourteenth Amendment, adopted in 1868.  It was one of the three so-called "Reconstruction Amendments" adopted in the wake of the Civil War.  The amendment sought to clarify the citizenship status of newly-freed blacks and to make structural changes to the Constitution.  For instance, the Three-Fifths Compromise, which had counted slaves as three-fifths of a person for apportionment purposes, was eliminated.  Rebels who had, while holding office prior to the Civil War, had repudiated their oaths to the United States and sworn allegiance to the Confederacy, were barred from public office.  And the validity of the national debt, which had exploded in the Civil War, was reaffirmed against critics.

Its most important and far-reaching provisions, though, are in the first section:

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

This section, especially the language referring to abridgement of privileges and immunities, is the origin of what is known as the "Incorporation Doctrine," the name given to the idea that the protections enshrined in the federal Bill of Rights also protect citizens against state governments.  Beginning with the 1925 case of Gitlow v. New York, which argued that the freedom of speech contained in the First Amendment also prevents state governments from passing speech restrictions, most of the rights enumerated in the first eight amendments to the constitution have been similarly interpreted (or incorporated).

On the matter of establishment, Thomas seems to believe that the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment was intended to clear the ground for state establishments of the sort that existed in six of the original thirteen states at the time of ratification.  In his Town of Greece v. Galloway concurrence he argues that the Establishment Clause resists incorporation because it is an overt act of federalism and that the "Federalist logic of the original Establishment Clause poses a special barrier to its mechanical incorporation against the States through the Fourteenth Amendment."  Throughout, he refers to earlier opinions he has offered to the effect that the Establishment Clause doesn't offer individual protection as does the Free Exercise Clause.

Regardless of whether his interpretation of the Establishment Clause as an instance of federalism is correct, we have to contend with this dangerous line of attack.  It relies upon the historical fact of state establishment and upon the common interpretation prior to the early 20^th century that the Bill of Rights did not apply to state governments.  In fact, it shows how fragile the structures protecting individual rights against state governments are.  The Incorporation Doctrine is not a piece of legislation; it is not in the Constitution.  In a real sense, it exists only in the minds of jurists and in court precedent.

Thus it can be swept away, another precedent discarded into the dustbin of history.  What might the consequences be?  I think it will be instructive to use my own home state of North Carolina as an example.  Section 13 of the state constitution says of religious liberty:

“All persons have a natural and inalienable right to worship Almighty God according to the dictates of their own consciences, and no human authority shall, in any case whatever, control or interfere with the rights of conscience.”

Leaving aside for a moment the implicit assumption that everyone in North Carolina will worship “Almighty God” (the language is strangely reminiscent of the 313 Edict of Milan…a topic for another post perhaps) note that there is no analogue to the Establishment Clause.  North Carolina's first constitution, adopted in 1776 and from which the first clause of the current language on religious liberty is drawn word-for-word, provided more protection:

"That there shall be no establishment of any one religious church or denomination in this State, in preference to any other; neither shall any person, on any presence whatsoever, be compelled to attend any place of worship contrary to his own faith or judgment, nor be obliged to pay, for the purchase of any glebe, or the building of any house of worship, or for the maintenance of any minister or ministry, contrary to what he believes right, of has voluntarily and personally engaged to perform; but all persons shall be at liberty to exercise their own mode of worship"

Of course, this anti-establishment sentiment is tempered with language declaring that 

"[N]o person, who shall deny the being of God or the truth of the Protestant religion, or the divine authority either of the Old or New Testaments, or who shall hold religious principles incompatible with the freedom and safety of the State, shall be capable of holding any office or place of trust or profit in the civil department within this State."

This restriction lives on in the language from both the 1878 and current constitutions barring from office "
any person who shall deny the being of Almighty God," language apparently vitiated by the Supreme Court in the 1961 Torcaso v. Watkins ruling.  Hugo Black's majority opinion leaned heavily on the 1947 Everson v. Board of Education ruling which incorporated the Establishment Clause in the first place.  Such language still appears in eight state constitutions but is, presumably, null and void.

This could change if Justice Thomas' interpretation of the Establishment Clause prevailed, and the door, not only to state establishments, but also to religious restrictions on office holders, flung open.  Indeed, in last year’s session of the General Assembly, a bill was proposed that would have allowed the state to establish a religion, arguing that the Bill of Rights did not prevent states from doing so.  

It is for this reason that we have to take Thomas’ argument seriously.  There is a historical precedent, in the United States, for state-established religions.  There are people who want to return to that.  And the mechanisms that prevent it are in the hands of some who seem to agree.