On the eleventh and twelfth day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 12) some more final endnotes, 11) a chronology of Jesus' life, 10) Jesus' family, 9) a long stretch of endnotes, 8) Jesus' language, education, and social status, 7) origins of Jesus of Nazareth, 6) part 2 criteria for the historical Jesus, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
Lest you think I can't finish anything I start (whoever "you" are), here is the final installment of Meier's first volume. Chapter 11 of his book is titled, "In the Fifteenth Year... A Chronology of Jesus' Life."
1. Pontius Pilate...
... held office from AD26-36, so Jesus presumably ministered during these years.
2. Luke 3:1-2
The fifteenth year of Tiberius isn't as easy to fix as it might first seem. Anywhere from AD26 to 29 is possible. If it weren't for John, Meier probably would say AD29, I think. John has a two plus year ministry. The Synoptics don't require even one, although Meier has a lengthy endnote about the green grass in Mark at the beginning and end of the gospel, which could give the impression of at least two Springs involved.
Philip's rule over Trachonitis ended in 33 or 34. These two parameters would further restrict the beginning of Jesus' ministry, assuming the accuracy of Luke 3:1-2, to 26-34. And the death of Jesus then looks more like AD28-33 to Meier. I'm not sure where he gets the AD33 for the end limit of his death, since presumably Philip need not still live at the time of the crucifixion.
A little later on in the chapter Meier revisits the fifteenth year of Tiberius. This discussion reminds you of your gratitude to the detailed people who do this sort of work, while perhaps making you glad you aren't one of them. Meier mentions at least 4 different calendars that were in use at the time, the Jewish, the Julian, the Syro-Macedonian, and the Egyptian, each of which started the year on a different date. Then there is the question of whether the years are counted from the ascension of Tiberius or more according to the calendar year.
Once your head stops spinning, Meier notes that of the four most likely ways of reckoning, AD28 is a part of the likely year. So he suggests Jesus began his ministry in AD28, give or take a year.
3. Jesus birth during the reign of Herod the Great
Even though Matthew and Luke differ is several respects, they both place Jesus' birth during the last days of Herod's reign. Herod died in 4BC. The idea of Herod killing children two years and younger would suggest 4-6BC. This of course assumes that some historical memory is at work in Matthew's account.
4. Luke 3:23; John 8:57; and 2:20
These confirm these general limits. Luke 3:23 give the ballpark figure of Jesus starting his ministry around the age of thirty. The fifty years old of John 8:57 is not so much about Jesus' precise age but a very general figure in comparison to how long ago Abraham lived. The question of the temple being under construction for forty-six years also does not yield a precise date. Was the reconstruction begun in 19BC? That's a majority position. But is the 46 years from when it was started (thus placing John 2:20 around 27BC) or from when the central temple part was finished in 17BC (thus 29BC)? Do we go with John's chronology of a temple cleansing in the first year of Jesus' ministry or with the Synoptic last week of Jesus' ministry?
Basically, we end up exactly where we were, 27-33ish.
5. Last Supper and Passover
From the "fifteenth year of Tiberius," Meier is thinking AD28 has a high probability of the beginning of Jesus' ministry. Now he focuses on the date of Jesus' crucifixion.
The gospel traditions agree that Jesus was arrested on Thursday night and crucified on Friday morning. The problem is that the Synoptics present the Last Supper as a Passover meal. In other words, the lamb would be killed in the afternoon on the 14th of Nisan and then eaten after sundown on the fifteenth (the Jewish day begins at sundown). In John, however, the Last Supper is not presented as a Passover meal and in fact John seems to imply several times that the Passover meal had not yet taken place when Jesus was crucified (e.g., 19:14).
Meier dismisses attempts to reconcile these two accounts, going through a few. One interesting summary comment Meier makes is that such attempts--and one in particular--make the gospels "all right when they disagree, all wrong when they agree" (194). What he means is that in order to make them all agree at points of apparent disagreement, a particular interpreter has to deny points on which they all seem to agree (namely, that Jesus ate a last meal with his disciples on Thursday night and was crucified Friday morning).
In the end, Meier chooses John's chronology at this point as he understands it, namely, that Jesus died the morning of the 14th of Nisan. He thinks in anticipation of his coming arrest, Jesus ate a solemn farewell meal with his disciples a day early (399). He mentions a couple frustrations when we next use astronomy to find years when the 14th of Nisan was on a Friday. You have to be able to see the new moon for the month to begin officially. Then leap days were added to the year as needed... and we don't know when!
But going by Jeremias, Meier fixes on either Friday, April 7th, AD30 or Friday, April 3, AD33. The latter date would require a four or five year ministry of Jesus, so Meier concludes that the AD30 date is more likely.
So Meier concludes that Jesus likely began his public ministry in AD28 soon after John the Baptist and that he was executed on April 7, AD30.
Here endeth the Marginal Jew.
Showing posts with label John P. Meier. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John P. Meier. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Sunday, January 04, 2009
On the Tenth Day of Meier...
On the tenth day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 10) Jesus' family, 9) a long stretch of endnotes, 8) Jesus' language, education, and social status, 7) origins of Jesus of Nazareth, 6) part 2 criteria for the historical Jesus, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
I should be able to finish the eleventh and twelfth days of Meier tomorrow, because I underlined the last chapter some time ago :-) So today, chapter 10, "In the Interim... Part II: Family, Marital Status, and Status as a Layman. It is an interesting chapter to read given that Meier is Roman Catholic. There are potential landmines for him in this chapter that are of little concern to us Protestants.
Immediate Family
Meier suggests that Nazareth might have had 1600 people. He concludes with most that Joseph was likely already dead by the time Jesus was thirty. Perhaps Mary was around 14 when Jesus was born.
He spends a good deal of time discussing the question of whether James, Joseph, Simon, Jude, and Jesus' sisters were really his brothers and sisters. Or were they cousins or children of Joseph from an earlier marriage? The standard Roman Catholic position is that they were cousins. In the Eastern church, they are Joseph's children from an earlier marriage. One new tidbit I didn't know is that Martin Luther and John Calvin held to Mary's "perpetual virginity" as well--that she never had any other children after Jesus and that the birth of Jesus itself miraculously did not alter her physical virginity.
Meier is keen to point out that Rudolf Pesch, Catholic author of a German two volume commentary on Mark that argues James, etc. were "true siblings," has never been censured by the Roman Catholic Church, despite the controversy his commentary caused. Similarly, he points out that the idea that they were cousins does not appear in Christian literature until Jerome in the late 300's. The idea that they are children from an earlier marriage appears in the Protogospel of James in the 2nd century. But the "true siblings" view was held by Hegesippus, Tertullian, and Irenaeus in the second century.
After discussion of the gospels, Paul, the early church, etc., Meier draws what to most of us is the obvious answer, "the most probably opinion is that the brothers and sisters of Jesus were true siblings" (331). I hate church constraints on historical and exegetical conclusions. They don't help anything but simply force sincerely truth-seeking scholars to have to play games. Churches should worry about theological beliefs, not historical and exegetical conclusions, except in those very few cases like the resurrection where historical belief is inextricably tied to theological belief.
Jesus Married?
This is also very important to Catholics. It is often important to Protestants too in an unthinking way. But I can't think of anything that would have been theologically problematic if Jesus had been married and had had sex.
But of course, there is no evidence of Jesus ever having been married, other than the fact that it was the default. But Meier notes that the New Testament and other early Christian literature had opportunity to mention that Peter had been married. Women followers of Jesus are mentioned, including his mother. There would have been no problem with him being married. Why would his wife not be mentioned? There would have been no need for a cover up.
Further, Meier notes that there were celibates in the ancient world, not least probably John the Baptist and many Essenes.
Layperson
Here Meier points out the simple fact that Jesus was not a priest while he was on earth. Only Hebrews in the NT says anything about Jesus' priesthood and here it is a heavenly priesthood. "We should think of Jesus as belonging to a pious Jewish laity that regularly went up to Jerusalem to worship even as it bewailed the failings of at least the upper-level priests who officiated there" (349). There may even have been an anticlerical aspect to his ministry.
I should be able to finish the eleventh and twelfth days of Meier tomorrow, because I underlined the last chapter some time ago :-) So today, chapter 10, "In the Interim... Part II: Family, Marital Status, and Status as a Layman. It is an interesting chapter to read given that Meier is Roman Catholic. There are potential landmines for him in this chapter that are of little concern to us Protestants.
Immediate Family
Meier suggests that Nazareth might have had 1600 people. He concludes with most that Joseph was likely already dead by the time Jesus was thirty. Perhaps Mary was around 14 when Jesus was born.
He spends a good deal of time discussing the question of whether James, Joseph, Simon, Jude, and Jesus' sisters were really his brothers and sisters. Or were they cousins or children of Joseph from an earlier marriage? The standard Roman Catholic position is that they were cousins. In the Eastern church, they are Joseph's children from an earlier marriage. One new tidbit I didn't know is that Martin Luther and John Calvin held to Mary's "perpetual virginity" as well--that she never had any other children after Jesus and that the birth of Jesus itself miraculously did not alter her physical virginity.
Meier is keen to point out that Rudolf Pesch, Catholic author of a German two volume commentary on Mark that argues James, etc. were "true siblings," has never been censured by the Roman Catholic Church, despite the controversy his commentary caused. Similarly, he points out that the idea that they were cousins does not appear in Christian literature until Jerome in the late 300's. The idea that they are children from an earlier marriage appears in the Protogospel of James in the 2nd century. But the "true siblings" view was held by Hegesippus, Tertullian, and Irenaeus in the second century.
After discussion of the gospels, Paul, the early church, etc., Meier draws what to most of us is the obvious answer, "the most probably opinion is that the brothers and sisters of Jesus were true siblings" (331). I hate church constraints on historical and exegetical conclusions. They don't help anything but simply force sincerely truth-seeking scholars to have to play games. Churches should worry about theological beliefs, not historical and exegetical conclusions, except in those very few cases like the resurrection where historical belief is inextricably tied to theological belief.
Jesus Married?
This is also very important to Catholics. It is often important to Protestants too in an unthinking way. But I can't think of anything that would have been theologically problematic if Jesus had been married and had had sex.
But of course, there is no evidence of Jesus ever having been married, other than the fact that it was the default. But Meier notes that the New Testament and other early Christian literature had opportunity to mention that Peter had been married. Women followers of Jesus are mentioned, including his mother. There would have been no problem with him being married. Why would his wife not be mentioned? There would have been no need for a cover up.
Further, Meier notes that there were celibates in the ancient world, not least probably John the Baptist and many Essenes.
Layperson
Here Meier points out the simple fact that Jesus was not a priest while he was on earth. Only Hebrews in the NT says anything about Jesus' priesthood and here it is a heavenly priesthood. "We should think of Jesus as belonging to a pious Jewish laity that regularly went up to Jerusalem to worship even as it bewailed the failings of at least the upper-level priests who officiated there" (349). There may even have been an anticlerical aspect to his ministry.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
On the Eighth and Ninth Days of Meier...
On the ninth day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 9) a long stretch of endnotes, 8) Jesus' language, education, and social status, 7) origins of Jesus of Nazareth, 6) part 2 criteria for the historical Jesus, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
Because I'm just now doing yesterday's summary--and since the ninth day is a rather large stretch of endnotes, I'm just going to post under today's date and pronounce myself caught up. I'll try to do two days worth on Monday to finish before Epiphany, January 6.
Language
Meier looks at four languages spoken in Palestine at the time of Christ and asks which one Jesus is most likely to have used in his life and ministry. He rules Latin out fairly quickly. There are Latin inscriptions in Palestine, but they were mainly statements of power. The Romans wrote them for themselves and couldn't care less whether anyone else understood their specific meaning other than to say, "We're in control and you aren't."
Greek is more difficult to say. Meier concludes with those who think Jesus probably knew enough Greek to conduct business transactions and such. About a third of the funeral inscriptions in Jerusalem are in Greek. Nevertheless, Meier draws on some statements in Josephus indicating that Greek was a challenge for him to indicate that even for him Greek was a second language. The Roman general Titus had Josephus deliver his message to the revolutionaries walled up in Jerusalem "in the language of their forefathers," which wasn't Greek.
Hebrew is also a possibility. The greater portion of the Dead Sea Scrolls is in Hebrew, indicating that Hebrew never stopped being spoken in Palestine, perhaps especially by those who were reacting in a conservative direction against Hellenization and such. But Meier concludes in the end that Aramaic is the most likely, especially given Aramaic words and phrases in the gospels (like Abba, Talitha Cum, Eloi, Eloi, Lama...). Some Aramaic targums found at Qumran are fairly wooden translations of Scripture, meaning that they were to help people understand rather than interpret. This fact indicates that enough people only knew Aramaic rather than Hebrew and thus needed translation.
Education
In this section Meier asks whether or not it is likely that Jesus could read. Here we must remember ourselves. We tend in Western culture to assume that if a person is illiterate, he or she is not intelligent. This is false enough in our own culture, but it is especially true when we are talking about oral cultures like the ancient world. The vast majority of the ancients could not read or write.
By the end of this section, Meier concludes that Jesus' "literacy probably extended beyond the mere ability to sign one's name or to conduct basic business transactions ('tradesman's literacy') to the ability to read sophisticated theological and literary works and comment on them ('scribal literacy')" (278). I must confess that I didn't find Meier's arguments very convincing. I'm not even sure that he made any real arguments.
In the first part he mentions three possible passages that would support Jesus being literate, including Luke 4 where Jesus reads in the synagogue gathering of Nazareth. But Meier does not consider any of these passages certain indicators, especially if Luke 4 is Luke's expansion of Mark 6. Meier discounts later Talmudic traditions about standardized Jewish education as much later than Jesus' day and quite possibly legendary.
Then he pulls Jesus' literacy out of a hat. He thinks there was a "strong conservative streak" in Galilee. He hasn't convinced me of this--the names of Jesus' family seem a pretty thin basis for this claim. I'm open to it but not convinced. Then he talks about Jesus' debates with religious leaders. Again, I can believe that Jesus had the entire Old Testament memorized and it wouldn't mean that he could read.
Was Jesus literate? He certainly could have been. The historical data is not conclusive. I will resist going off on a tangent discussing whether or not it would be important for faith for him to be literate. I can't think of any reason why it would be. Our prejudices about literacy are wrongheaded, as are any understandings of Jesus' humanity that would not allow for such.
Carpenter?
This is a very helpful section. Meier indicates that a tekton was a woodworker who made things like furniture or, according to Justin Martyr, plows and yokes. Meier finds no evidence that Jesus or Joseph helped build Sepphoris.
Because I'm just now doing yesterday's summary--and since the ninth day is a rather large stretch of endnotes, I'm just going to post under today's date and pronounce myself caught up. I'll try to do two days worth on Monday to finish before Epiphany, January 6.
Language
Meier looks at four languages spoken in Palestine at the time of Christ and asks which one Jesus is most likely to have used in his life and ministry. He rules Latin out fairly quickly. There are Latin inscriptions in Palestine, but they were mainly statements of power. The Romans wrote them for themselves and couldn't care less whether anyone else understood their specific meaning other than to say, "We're in control and you aren't."
Greek is more difficult to say. Meier concludes with those who think Jesus probably knew enough Greek to conduct business transactions and such. About a third of the funeral inscriptions in Jerusalem are in Greek. Nevertheless, Meier draws on some statements in Josephus indicating that Greek was a challenge for him to indicate that even for him Greek was a second language. The Roman general Titus had Josephus deliver his message to the revolutionaries walled up in Jerusalem "in the language of their forefathers," which wasn't Greek.
Hebrew is also a possibility. The greater portion of the Dead Sea Scrolls is in Hebrew, indicating that Hebrew never stopped being spoken in Palestine, perhaps especially by those who were reacting in a conservative direction against Hellenization and such. But Meier concludes in the end that Aramaic is the most likely, especially given Aramaic words and phrases in the gospels (like Abba, Talitha Cum, Eloi, Eloi, Lama...). Some Aramaic targums found at Qumran are fairly wooden translations of Scripture, meaning that they were to help people understand rather than interpret. This fact indicates that enough people only knew Aramaic rather than Hebrew and thus needed translation.
Education
In this section Meier asks whether or not it is likely that Jesus could read. Here we must remember ourselves. We tend in Western culture to assume that if a person is illiterate, he or she is not intelligent. This is false enough in our own culture, but it is especially true when we are talking about oral cultures like the ancient world. The vast majority of the ancients could not read or write.
By the end of this section, Meier concludes that Jesus' "literacy probably extended beyond the mere ability to sign one's name or to conduct basic business transactions ('tradesman's literacy') to the ability to read sophisticated theological and literary works and comment on them ('scribal literacy')" (278). I must confess that I didn't find Meier's arguments very convincing. I'm not even sure that he made any real arguments.
In the first part he mentions three possible passages that would support Jesus being literate, including Luke 4 where Jesus reads in the synagogue gathering of Nazareth. But Meier does not consider any of these passages certain indicators, especially if Luke 4 is Luke's expansion of Mark 6. Meier discounts later Talmudic traditions about standardized Jewish education as much later than Jesus' day and quite possibly legendary.
Then he pulls Jesus' literacy out of a hat. He thinks there was a "strong conservative streak" in Galilee. He hasn't convinced me of this--the names of Jesus' family seem a pretty thin basis for this claim. I'm open to it but not convinced. Then he talks about Jesus' debates with religious leaders. Again, I can believe that Jesus had the entire Old Testament memorized and it wouldn't mean that he could read.
Was Jesus literate? He certainly could have been. The historical data is not conclusive. I will resist going off on a tangent discussing whether or not it would be important for faith for him to be literate. I can't think of any reason why it would be. Our prejudices about literacy are wrongheaded, as are any understandings of Jesus' humanity that would not allow for such.
Carpenter?
This is a very helpful section. Meier indicates that a tekton was a woodworker who made things like furniture or, according to Justin Martyr, plows and yokes. Meier finds no evidence that Jesus or Joseph helped build Sepphoris.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
On the Seventh Day of Meier...
I know I'm a day late, but hey, I can pre-date it...
On the seventh day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 7) origins of Jesus of Nazareth, 6) part 2 criteria for the historical Jesus, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
This chapter treats of some basics about Jesus' birth, naming, etc. I feel confident that Meier believes in the virginal conception as a Christian, but he is asking what is most likely given the historical evidence and he doesn't pull any punches.
Jesus' Name
He begins the chapter, "In the Beginning.. The Origins of Jesus of Nazareth," with a discussion of Jesus' name. The name for Joshua (Yehoshua) had been typically shortened after the exile to Yeshua. The Galilean dialect, Meier suggests, would probably have dropped the final ayin in pronounciation and said Yeshu (following correspondence with David Noel Freedman).
It was a very common name, although not from the 2nd century on, Meier thinks in reaction to Christianity. Rabbis from then on do return to the fuller Yehoshua. But at the time of Jesus, "so current was the name Jesus that some descriptive phrase like 'of Nazareth' or 'the Christ (Messiah)' had to be added to distinguish him from the many other bearers of that name" (206).
It was unusual, Meier suggests, to have so many in Jesus' family named after patriarchs and such. To him this suggests "the family's participation in this reawakening of Jewish national and religious identity" (208) that took place after the Maccabean crisis. The appointment of twelve disciples, he suggests, may fit into this pattern as well.
Problem of Sources about Jesus' Birth
Little or nothing can be said with certainty about Jesus' birth and childhood from a historical standpoint. Interestingly, the events of the "infancy narratives" are almost never referred to outside of Matthew 1-2 and Luke 1-2. Jesus' miraculous birth never appears in any of the early preaching in Acts or in Paul. I will merely note that Meier unflinchingly discusses some of the tensions and difficulties within the infancy narratives themselves.
Meier finds the most important agreements between them as Jesus' birth toward the end of the reign of Herod the Great and that Jesus' putative father was named Joseph and his mother Mary. He goes on in the following section to mull over whether Jesus was more likely, given the historical data, to have been born in Bethlehem or Nazareth. He concludes that Nazareth was the more likely place of Jesus' birth, although he does not rule out Bethlehem.
At the same time, he finds it overwhelmingly likely, given the data, that Jesus was indeed descended from David on his father's side. Luke might point more toward a descendency from Levi on his mother's side, but Meier does not think any conclusion about Mary is possible if one is only following historical canons.
Virginal Conception
When Meier is dividing faith and reason, he places faith in the virginal conception of Jesus on the faith side of the line. In other words, we might conclude historically that Joseph was not likely Jesus' father and we might conclude that no other father was known and that people believed he was born of no human father. But belief that he was born of the Holy Spirit will be a theological interpretation of that historical data, not a historical datum itself. I say above, "we might," as a hypothetical, for Meier does not seem to think any conclusion either way is possible using only historical canons.
So he merely discusses how early belief in the virgin conception seems to appear in early Christian literature and some details of the term "virgin." Here the most interesting thought is that a woman could be called a parthenos up until she gave birth. In other words, what is miraculous in Christian belief is not that a virgin conceived--virgins conceive all the time--but rather than Mary conceived without a human father involved.
Finally, Meier addresses the claims of some scholars--as well as some ancient non-believing Jews--that Jesus was born illegitimately. Meier finds this charge a second century response to Christian claims about the virgin conception (by the way, technically, a virginal conception is more accurate than a virgin birth), not a long standing tradition about Jesus' birth. In other words, the charge that Mary was raped was anti-Christian propaganda invented after the fact, not a tradition that had been around forever.
On the seventh day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 7) origins of Jesus of Nazareth, 6) part 2 criteria for the historical Jesus, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
This chapter treats of some basics about Jesus' birth, naming, etc. I feel confident that Meier believes in the virginal conception as a Christian, but he is asking what is most likely given the historical evidence and he doesn't pull any punches.
Jesus' Name
He begins the chapter, "In the Beginning.. The Origins of Jesus of Nazareth," with a discussion of Jesus' name. The name for Joshua (Yehoshua) had been typically shortened after the exile to Yeshua. The Galilean dialect, Meier suggests, would probably have dropped the final ayin in pronounciation and said Yeshu (following correspondence with David Noel Freedman).
It was a very common name, although not from the 2nd century on, Meier thinks in reaction to Christianity. Rabbis from then on do return to the fuller Yehoshua. But at the time of Jesus, "so current was the name Jesus that some descriptive phrase like 'of Nazareth' or 'the Christ (Messiah)' had to be added to distinguish him from the many other bearers of that name" (206).
It was unusual, Meier suggests, to have so many in Jesus' family named after patriarchs and such. To him this suggests "the family's participation in this reawakening of Jewish national and religious identity" (208) that took place after the Maccabean crisis. The appointment of twelve disciples, he suggests, may fit into this pattern as well.
Problem of Sources about Jesus' Birth
Little or nothing can be said with certainty about Jesus' birth and childhood from a historical standpoint. Interestingly, the events of the "infancy narratives" are almost never referred to outside of Matthew 1-2 and Luke 1-2. Jesus' miraculous birth never appears in any of the early preaching in Acts or in Paul. I will merely note that Meier unflinchingly discusses some of the tensions and difficulties within the infancy narratives themselves.
Meier finds the most important agreements between them as Jesus' birth toward the end of the reign of Herod the Great and that Jesus' putative father was named Joseph and his mother Mary. He goes on in the following section to mull over whether Jesus was more likely, given the historical data, to have been born in Bethlehem or Nazareth. He concludes that Nazareth was the more likely place of Jesus' birth, although he does not rule out Bethlehem.
At the same time, he finds it overwhelmingly likely, given the data, that Jesus was indeed descended from David on his father's side. Luke might point more toward a descendency from Levi on his mother's side, but Meier does not think any conclusion about Mary is possible if one is only following historical canons.
Virginal Conception
When Meier is dividing faith and reason, he places faith in the virginal conception of Jesus on the faith side of the line. In other words, we might conclude historically that Joseph was not likely Jesus' father and we might conclude that no other father was known and that people believed he was born of no human father. But belief that he was born of the Holy Spirit will be a theological interpretation of that historical data, not a historical datum itself. I say above, "we might," as a hypothetical, for Meier does not seem to think any conclusion either way is possible using only historical canons.
So he merely discusses how early belief in the virgin conception seems to appear in early Christian literature and some details of the term "virgin." Here the most interesting thought is that a woman could be called a parthenos up until she gave birth. In other words, what is miraculous in Christian belief is not that a virgin conceived--virgins conceive all the time--but rather than Mary conceived without a human father involved.
Finally, Meier addresses the claims of some scholars--as well as some ancient non-believing Jews--that Jesus was born illegitimately. Meier finds this charge a second century response to Christian claims about the virgin conception (by the way, technically, a virginal conception is more accurate than a virgin birth), not a long standing tradition about Jesus' birth. In other words, the charge that Mary was raped was anti-Christian propaganda invented after the fact, not a tradition that had been around forever.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
On the Sixth Day of Meier...
On the sixth day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 6) part 2 criteria for the historical Jesus, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
Today we finish the first half of Meier's book, "The Roots of the Problem." First there is the rest of Chapter 6: "Criteria: How Do We Decide What Comes from Jesus?" In yesterday's part of the chapter, he mentioned 1) the criterion of embarrassment, 2) the criterion of discontinuity, and 3) the criterion of multiple attestation.
The rest of the chapter finishes, first, with two more criteria that he believes are very valuable as primary criteria, although in the end making historical judgments is more an art than a science and about probability rather than certainty (183-84).
4. The Criterion of Coherence
After one has established by the first three criteria a body of probable Jesus material and events, "The criterion of coherence holds that other sayings and deeds of Jesus that fit in well withthe preliminary 'data base' established by using our first three criteria have a good chance of being historical (e.g., sayings concerning the coming of the kingdom of God or disputes with adversaries over legal observance)" (176).
Meier does warn us, however, that "Jesus would hardly be unique among the great thinkers or leaders of world history if his sayings and actions did not always seem totally consistent to us" (176). In other words, it would be ridiculous if we did not find statements from Jesus that were in tension with each other, especially since Jesus "delighted in paradoxical statements that held opposites in tension" and very importantly, "There is no reason why the preaching of Jesus may not have contained elements of both apocalyptic eschatology and traditional Israelite wisdom" (176-77).
5. The Criterion of Rejection and Execution
Jesus met a violent end at the hands of Jewish and Roman officials. So what historical words and deeds of Jesus might explain his trial and crucifixion as King of the Jews? Here's a quotable:
"A tweedy poetaster who spent his time spinning out parables and Japanese koans, a literary aesthete who toyed with 1st-century deconstructionism, or a bland Jesus who simply told people to look at the lilies of the field--such a Jesus would threaten no one, just as the university professors who create him threaten no one" (177). :-)
Meier ends the chapter with five more criteria that have been mentioned from time to time, all of which he finds more dubious and thus dubs the first three as secondary criteria. The last two he considers useless or wrong.
Secondary Criteria and Criteria to be Rejected
1. Criterion of Aramaic
Joachim Jeremias was big on this one. By the way, for those of an earlier generation who were taught in seminary to think that Jeremias was the bomb--Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus and The Unknown Sayings of Jesus--let me just say that I'm glad Jeremias is dead. He has received such an extensive thrashing these last twenty years that I am thoroughly embarrassed for the man.
I believe he was a great man and a pious believer, but his name never comes up but that the shoddiness of his methods and conclusions are at issue. E. P. Sanders has been downright mean, almost accusing him of deliberate skewing under the guise of "he couldn't have been that stupid." Meier is much more respectful--as is appropriate to the man--but scarcely has he mentioned him but to take exception to his method. Indeed, I am so glad he isn't living to go from a position of such respect to looking like an incompetent.
Of course I believe people like John Dominic Crossan and Helmut Koester already look the same in some of their historical Jesus work.
Anyway, the criterion of Aramaic suggests that if a saying of Jesus translates back easily into Aramaic, it has more likelihood of being original. Meier suggests this might be icing on the cake, but he pokes numerous holes in this as having much force at all. For example, Aramaic speaking Christians could have invented sayings of Jesus just as easily as Greek speaking ones. Further, Greek speaking believers in Jerusalem would have translated Jesus' words at a very early stage into Greek, from which time they had decades to be paraphrased in transmission. And many believe that Luke composed various speeches in a Septuagintal style, which would give the appearance of Semitisms.
In short, the criterion might corroborate a decision already made by primary criteria, but it has little force by itself.
2. Criterion of a Palestinian Environment
Does a saying or event fit the environment in which Jesus ministered? Again, Christianity continued in Palestine throughout the first century, so just because something fits that setting doesn't prove it was said by Jesus there. Meier suggests that the criteria works better in its negative rather than positive force. Thus it might more cast doubt than corroborate: "parables that reflect concern about the delay of Jesus' parousia, the mission of the Church to the Gentiles, or rules for Church leadership and discipline are post-Easter creations, at least in their final, Gospel form" (180).
I might mention an example that Meier does not mention here, although he does mention it elsewhere. Mark's version of Jesus' prohibition on divorce prohibits both men from divorcing their wives and wives from divorcing their husbands. However, it is commonly said that women were not able legally to divorce their husbands in Palestine. If this is true, then it seems unlikely that Jesus would have said the second half of the prohibition. Meier elsewhere suggests that Mark added the second half to appropriate Jesus' message for a Roman world where women could divorce their husbands. If he and others are correct, then this would be an example of the criterion of a Palestinian environment at work.
3. Criterion of Vividness of Narration
"Vincent Taylor inclined to accept vivid, concrete details in Mark's Gospel as signs of high historical value" (180). But Meier doesn't think this is a very definitive criterion at all. For example, some literary forms may lead to terseness. Does this mean it isn't original?
Meier ends the chapter with two criteria he doesn't think are useful at all:
a. Criterion of tendencies in the gospel tradition
E. P. Sanders' doctoral dissertation thoroughly undermined some of the things people like Bultmann had in mind when they spoke of such tendencies: "we can find examples of the tradition becoming longer and shorter, of discourse becoming both direct and indirect, and of proper names being droppedas well as added" (182).
b. Criterion of historical presumption
Some have argued that non-historicity should be presumed until proved otherwise. Others have argued that historicity should be presumed until proved otherwise. Meier concludes, "the burden of proof is simply on anyone who tries to prove anything" (183). The rest go in the irritating category of the "not clear."
CONCLUSION TO PART 1
Meier ends the first section with the question, "Why Bother?"
First, Meier suggests that two groups in particular are prone to ask this question, Bultmannians and fundamentalists. The Bultmannian thinks the quest for the historical Jesus is irrelevant to faith. The fundamentalist makes no distinction between Jesus as presented in the gospels and the historical Jesus. Meier does not agree with either group but feels he should take off the hat of a historian for a moment and put on his theologian's hat for this concluding section of Part 1.
On the one hand, he agrees with the Bultmannian that the Jesus we as Christians are interested in is not some historical reconstruction. Whose would we pick? Also, "the object of Christian faith is a living person, Jesus Christ, who fully entered into a true human existence on earth in the 1st century A.D., but who now lives, risen and glorified, forever in the Father's presence" (198). This is the Jesus of faith, not Jesus as we might reconstruct him using historical methods. To this extent Meier agrees with the Bultmannian.
At the same time, Meier argues that "Theology is a cultural artifact; therefore, once a culture becomes permeated with a historical-critical approach, as has Western culture from the Enlightenment onward, theology can operate in and speak to that culture with credibility only if it absorbs into its methodology a historical approach" (198). "The historical Jesus, while not the object or essence of faith, must be an integral part of modern theology" (198-99).
He suggests four benefits of this integration:
1. It keeps faith in Christ from being reduced to a mythic symbol or timeless archetype. "Christian faith is the affirmation of and adherence to a particular person who said and did particular things in a particular time and place in human history" (199).
2. It keeps pious Christians from swallowing up the real humanity of Jesus into a one-sided emphasis on his divinity.
3. It keeps us from domesticating Jesus for a comfortable, respectable, bourgeois Christianity.
4. The historical Jesus also subverts revolutionary ideologies as well, such as liberation theology.
Meier doesn't really address fundamentalist concerns. He merely describes them at the beginning, "Fundamentalists object to the quest for the exact opposite reason [to the Bultmannians]: the historical Jesus is naively equated with the Jesus presented in all Four Gospels. All tensions and contradictions in the four narratives are harmonized by hilarious mental acrobatics" (197).
Obviously he is not writing for fundamentalists but for people who have questions about what Jesus was likely to have been like if one uses the methods of historical study. His results cohere well with orthodox faith, as we will see.
Today we finish the first half of Meier's book, "The Roots of the Problem." First there is the rest of Chapter 6: "Criteria: How Do We Decide What Comes from Jesus?" In yesterday's part of the chapter, he mentioned 1) the criterion of embarrassment, 2) the criterion of discontinuity, and 3) the criterion of multiple attestation.
The rest of the chapter finishes, first, with two more criteria that he believes are very valuable as primary criteria, although in the end making historical judgments is more an art than a science and about probability rather than certainty (183-84).
4. The Criterion of Coherence
After one has established by the first three criteria a body of probable Jesus material and events, "The criterion of coherence holds that other sayings and deeds of Jesus that fit in well withthe preliminary 'data base' established by using our first three criteria have a good chance of being historical (e.g., sayings concerning the coming of the kingdom of God or disputes with adversaries over legal observance)" (176).
Meier does warn us, however, that "Jesus would hardly be unique among the great thinkers or leaders of world history if his sayings and actions did not always seem totally consistent to us" (176). In other words, it would be ridiculous if we did not find statements from Jesus that were in tension with each other, especially since Jesus "delighted in paradoxical statements that held opposites in tension" and very importantly, "There is no reason why the preaching of Jesus may not have contained elements of both apocalyptic eschatology and traditional Israelite wisdom" (176-77).
5. The Criterion of Rejection and Execution
Jesus met a violent end at the hands of Jewish and Roman officials. So what historical words and deeds of Jesus might explain his trial and crucifixion as King of the Jews? Here's a quotable:
"A tweedy poetaster who spent his time spinning out parables and Japanese koans, a literary aesthete who toyed with 1st-century deconstructionism, or a bland Jesus who simply told people to look at the lilies of the field--such a Jesus would threaten no one, just as the university professors who create him threaten no one" (177). :-)
Meier ends the chapter with five more criteria that have been mentioned from time to time, all of which he finds more dubious and thus dubs the first three as secondary criteria. The last two he considers useless or wrong.
Secondary Criteria and Criteria to be Rejected
1. Criterion of Aramaic
Joachim Jeremias was big on this one. By the way, for those of an earlier generation who were taught in seminary to think that Jeremias was the bomb--Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus and The Unknown Sayings of Jesus--let me just say that I'm glad Jeremias is dead. He has received such an extensive thrashing these last twenty years that I am thoroughly embarrassed for the man.
I believe he was a great man and a pious believer, but his name never comes up but that the shoddiness of his methods and conclusions are at issue. E. P. Sanders has been downright mean, almost accusing him of deliberate skewing under the guise of "he couldn't have been that stupid." Meier is much more respectful--as is appropriate to the man--but scarcely has he mentioned him but to take exception to his method. Indeed, I am so glad he isn't living to go from a position of such respect to looking like an incompetent.
Of course I believe people like John Dominic Crossan and Helmut Koester already look the same in some of their historical Jesus work.
Anyway, the criterion of Aramaic suggests that if a saying of Jesus translates back easily into Aramaic, it has more likelihood of being original. Meier suggests this might be icing on the cake, but he pokes numerous holes in this as having much force at all. For example, Aramaic speaking Christians could have invented sayings of Jesus just as easily as Greek speaking ones. Further, Greek speaking believers in Jerusalem would have translated Jesus' words at a very early stage into Greek, from which time they had decades to be paraphrased in transmission. And many believe that Luke composed various speeches in a Septuagintal style, which would give the appearance of Semitisms.
In short, the criterion might corroborate a decision already made by primary criteria, but it has little force by itself.
2. Criterion of a Palestinian Environment
Does a saying or event fit the environment in which Jesus ministered? Again, Christianity continued in Palestine throughout the first century, so just because something fits that setting doesn't prove it was said by Jesus there. Meier suggests that the criteria works better in its negative rather than positive force. Thus it might more cast doubt than corroborate: "parables that reflect concern about the delay of Jesus' parousia, the mission of the Church to the Gentiles, or rules for Church leadership and discipline are post-Easter creations, at least in their final, Gospel form" (180).
I might mention an example that Meier does not mention here, although he does mention it elsewhere. Mark's version of Jesus' prohibition on divorce prohibits both men from divorcing their wives and wives from divorcing their husbands. However, it is commonly said that women were not able legally to divorce their husbands in Palestine. If this is true, then it seems unlikely that Jesus would have said the second half of the prohibition. Meier elsewhere suggests that Mark added the second half to appropriate Jesus' message for a Roman world where women could divorce their husbands. If he and others are correct, then this would be an example of the criterion of a Palestinian environment at work.
3. Criterion of Vividness of Narration
"Vincent Taylor inclined to accept vivid, concrete details in Mark's Gospel as signs of high historical value" (180). But Meier doesn't think this is a very definitive criterion at all. For example, some literary forms may lead to terseness. Does this mean it isn't original?
Meier ends the chapter with two criteria he doesn't think are useful at all:
a. Criterion of tendencies in the gospel tradition
E. P. Sanders' doctoral dissertation thoroughly undermined some of the things people like Bultmann had in mind when they spoke of such tendencies: "we can find examples of the tradition becoming longer and shorter, of discourse becoming both direct and indirect, and of proper names being droppedas well as added" (182).
b. Criterion of historical presumption
Some have argued that non-historicity should be presumed until proved otherwise. Others have argued that historicity should be presumed until proved otherwise. Meier concludes, "the burden of proof is simply on anyone who tries to prove anything" (183). The rest go in the irritating category of the "not clear."
CONCLUSION TO PART 1
Meier ends the first section with the question, "Why Bother?"
First, Meier suggests that two groups in particular are prone to ask this question, Bultmannians and fundamentalists. The Bultmannian thinks the quest for the historical Jesus is irrelevant to faith. The fundamentalist makes no distinction between Jesus as presented in the gospels and the historical Jesus. Meier does not agree with either group but feels he should take off the hat of a historian for a moment and put on his theologian's hat for this concluding section of Part 1.
On the one hand, he agrees with the Bultmannian that the Jesus we as Christians are interested in is not some historical reconstruction. Whose would we pick? Also, "the object of Christian faith is a living person, Jesus Christ, who fully entered into a true human existence on earth in the 1st century A.D., but who now lives, risen and glorified, forever in the Father's presence" (198). This is the Jesus of faith, not Jesus as we might reconstruct him using historical methods. To this extent Meier agrees with the Bultmannian.
At the same time, Meier argues that "Theology is a cultural artifact; therefore, once a culture becomes permeated with a historical-critical approach, as has Western culture from the Enlightenment onward, theology can operate in and speak to that culture with credibility only if it absorbs into its methodology a historical approach" (198). "The historical Jesus, while not the object or essence of faith, must be an integral part of modern theology" (198-99).
He suggests four benefits of this integration:
1. It keeps faith in Christ from being reduced to a mythic symbol or timeless archetype. "Christian faith is the affirmation of and adherence to a particular person who said and did particular things in a particular time and place in human history" (199).
2. It keeps pious Christians from swallowing up the real humanity of Jesus into a one-sided emphasis on his divinity.
3. It keeps us from domesticating Jesus for a comfortable, respectable, bourgeois Christianity.
4. The historical Jesus also subverts revolutionary ideologies as well, such as liberation theology.
Meier doesn't really address fundamentalist concerns. He merely describes them at the beginning, "Fundamentalists object to the quest for the exact opposite reason [to the Bultmannians]: the historical Jesus is naively equated with the Jesus presented in all Four Gospels. All tensions and contradictions in the four narratives are harmonized by hilarious mental acrobatics" (197).
Obviously he is not writing for fundamentalists but for people who have questions about what Jesus was likely to have been like if one uses the methods of historical study. His results cohere well with orthodox faith, as we will see.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
On the Fifth Day of Meier...
On the fifth day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 5) part 1 criteria for the historical Jesus, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
I've looked ahead and I can actually catch up to the actual days of Christmas on Friday because of a particularly long stretch of endnotes. Meier nicely keeps the surface text on a college level and relegates the more scholarly discussion to endnotes at the end of each chapter. It has made it easy to reach my 35 pages a day with only 10-20 pages of reading most of the time... my kind of book.
So today I only need to cover about 9 pages of Chapter 6 to keep on pace: "Criteria: How Do We Decide What Comes from Jesus?" In this chapter Meier covers the standard criteria that mostly evolved during the "New Quest" period of the mid-twentieth century. His caveats are a great statement of mature reflection on these criteria over the intervening years.
These nine pages cover three biggies:
1. The Criterion of Embarrassment
The idea here is that there are certain events that the early church is very unlikely to have invented because they only raise questions and issues that are problematic. Indeed, the gospel traditions themselves may reflect some attempt to address their problematic nature.
The baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist, for example, is not something an early Christian would likely have invented, since the baptism was for the forgiveness of sins. Matthew includes a dialog where Jesus directly addresses this question. Luke doesn't mention who baptizes who and John doesn't even mention the baptism at all.
Similarly, the fact that Jesus doesn't know when the Son of Man will come is missing from many later manuscripts of Matthew and Mark, and Luke himself omitted the statement. John presents Jesus as far more omniscient than any of the other gospels. Meier thus argues that there is a conservative as well as a creative thrust in the early tradition (170).
Not everything we might first think as embarrassing might have been to the earliest believers. For example, although Luke and John do not have Mark and Matthew's, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me," Meier does not think this statement would have been clearly embarrassing to Mark, given its Scriptural nature. Meier thus would not conclude that it is original simply because it seems a possible issue for later Christians or the fact that Luke and John don't mention it.
2. The Criterion of Discontinuity
The idea here is that if there are words or deeds of Jesus that cannot be derived either from Judaism at the time of Jesus or from the early Church after him, they are likely historical because no one would have invented them or applied them to Jesus from somewhere else.
The problem of course is that "a successful teacher and communicator ... would have had to submit himself to the constraints of communication, the constraints of his historical situation" (173). Thus, "while the criterion of discontinuity is useful, we must guard against the presupposition that it will automatically give us what was central to or at least fairly representative of Jesus' teaching." The real danger is that it will give us a caricature of Jesus "by divorcing Jesus from the Judaism that influenced him and from the Church that he influenced" (172).
What we get from the criterion of dissimilarity is the "strikingly characteristic" or "unusual," not what is unique. At the end of this section, Meier writes, "when we deal with the public actions of Jesus, it may be wiser to speak of the 'sort of things Jesus did' ... instead of asserting that a particular story tells us precisely what Jesus did on one particular occasion. The same distinction can be applied to the sayings tradition taken as a whole. We can have some hope of learning the basic message of Jesus, the 'kind of thing' he usually or typically said (the ipsissima vox). Rarely if ever can we claim to recover his exact words (the ipsissima verba)" (174).
3. The Criterion of Multiple Attestation
This is the idea that if a saying or event appears in multiple layers of Jesus tradition, it is more likely to have been original. As a footnote, this does not mean that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all have the same story. If Matthew and Luke used Mark as a source, then this only counts for one attestation. The idea of the kingdom of God being a major theme of Jesus' teaching, on the other hand, appears in Mark, Q, special Matthean tradition, special Lukan tradition, John, echoes in Paul.
Examples of such teaching in multiple layers also includes Jesus' words over the bread and wine and his prohibition on divorce. He ends the pages for today with the apt quote: "no criterion can be used mechanistically and in isolation" (175).
I've looked ahead and I can actually catch up to the actual days of Christmas on Friday because of a particularly long stretch of endnotes. Meier nicely keeps the surface text on a college level and relegates the more scholarly discussion to endnotes at the end of each chapter. It has made it easy to reach my 35 pages a day with only 10-20 pages of reading most of the time... my kind of book.
So today I only need to cover about 9 pages of Chapter 6 to keep on pace: "Criteria: How Do We Decide What Comes from Jesus?" In this chapter Meier covers the standard criteria that mostly evolved during the "New Quest" period of the mid-twentieth century. His caveats are a great statement of mature reflection on these criteria over the intervening years.
These nine pages cover three biggies:
1. The Criterion of Embarrassment
The idea here is that there are certain events that the early church is very unlikely to have invented because they only raise questions and issues that are problematic. Indeed, the gospel traditions themselves may reflect some attempt to address their problematic nature.
The baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist, for example, is not something an early Christian would likely have invented, since the baptism was for the forgiveness of sins. Matthew includes a dialog where Jesus directly addresses this question. Luke doesn't mention who baptizes who and John doesn't even mention the baptism at all.
Similarly, the fact that Jesus doesn't know when the Son of Man will come is missing from many later manuscripts of Matthew and Mark, and Luke himself omitted the statement. John presents Jesus as far more omniscient than any of the other gospels. Meier thus argues that there is a conservative as well as a creative thrust in the early tradition (170).
Not everything we might first think as embarrassing might have been to the earliest believers. For example, although Luke and John do not have Mark and Matthew's, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me," Meier does not think this statement would have been clearly embarrassing to Mark, given its Scriptural nature. Meier thus would not conclude that it is original simply because it seems a possible issue for later Christians or the fact that Luke and John don't mention it.
2. The Criterion of Discontinuity
The idea here is that if there are words or deeds of Jesus that cannot be derived either from Judaism at the time of Jesus or from the early Church after him, they are likely historical because no one would have invented them or applied them to Jesus from somewhere else.
The problem of course is that "a successful teacher and communicator ... would have had to submit himself to the constraints of communication, the constraints of his historical situation" (173). Thus, "while the criterion of discontinuity is useful, we must guard against the presupposition that it will automatically give us what was central to or at least fairly representative of Jesus' teaching." The real danger is that it will give us a caricature of Jesus "by divorcing Jesus from the Judaism that influenced him and from the Church that he influenced" (172).
What we get from the criterion of dissimilarity is the "strikingly characteristic" or "unusual," not what is unique. At the end of this section, Meier writes, "when we deal with the public actions of Jesus, it may be wiser to speak of the 'sort of things Jesus did' ... instead of asserting that a particular story tells us precisely what Jesus did on one particular occasion. The same distinction can be applied to the sayings tradition taken as a whole. We can have some hope of learning the basic message of Jesus, the 'kind of thing' he usually or typically said (the ipsissima vox). Rarely if ever can we claim to recover his exact words (the ipsissima verba)" (174).
3. The Criterion of Multiple Attestation
This is the idea that if a saying or event appears in multiple layers of Jesus tradition, it is more likely to have been original. As a footnote, this does not mean that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all have the same story. If Matthew and Luke used Mark as a source, then this only counts for one attestation. The idea of the kingdom of God being a major theme of Jesus' teaching, on the other hand, appears in Mark, Q, special Matthean tradition, special Lukan tradition, John, echoes in Paul.
Examples of such teaching in multiple layers also includes Jesus' words over the bread and wine and his prohibition on divorce. He ends the pages for today with the apt quote: "no criterion can be used mechanistically and in isolation" (175).
Monday, December 29, 2008
On the Fourth Day of Meier
On the fourth day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 4) agrapha and Nag Hammadi, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
"Agrapha" is a term used for scattered sayings attributed to Jesus that appear here and there, "unwritten" sayings. Joachim Jeremias, mid-twentieth century German scholar, found eighteen candidates he accepted as genuine words of Jesus found elsewhere than in the gospels. Meier is not so optimistic. Jeremias' arguments amount to Jesus could have said this. "Hypothesis is piled on hypothesis" (114) and "even when all eighteen are accepted, nothing new is added to our picture."
The rest of the chapter dives into two bodies of literature that are potential candidates for Jesus material independent of the gospels. The first are the "apocryphal gospels" like the Protoevangelium of James, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of the Nazarenes, the Gospel of the Ebionites, the Gospel of the Hebrews, etc... He leaves the Coptic Gospel of Thomas for the final section.
Meier rightly dismisses the Protogospel of James and the Infancy Gospel as fanciful and bizarre second century speculation about Jesus' childhood. Then he considers the Jewish Christian fragments of the Gospel of the Nararenes, the Gospel of the Ebionites, and the Gospel of the Hebrews. All, he believes are dependent on the canonical gospels rather than relayers of independent Jesus tradition.
Finally, this section treats some of the sources that have been favorites of John Dominic Crossan. Meier finds Crossan's theory that the Gospel of Peter reflects a earlier "Cross Gospel" that was used as the basis of Mark's passion story unnecessarily complicated. Basically, "the simplest theory that explains the most data is to be preferred" (116). And the simplest explanation of the Gospel of Peter is that "it is a 2d century pastiche of traditions from the canonical Gospels" (117). He does offer linguistic evidence as well.
As far as the Egerton Papyrus 2, Meier similarly concludes that we get no new information about Jesus and that it is nevertheless still more likely than not that they are based on the canonical gospels.
The final possibility in this section of the chapter is the Secret Gospel of Mark. Once again, Meier finds the hypotheses of Crossan and Helmut Koester ridiculously complicated in comparison to the simplest hypothesis that it is based on the canonical gospels. Further, "to use such a small fragment of dubious origins to rewrite the history of Jesus and the Gospel tradition is to lean on a reed" (121).
His summary of these 2nd century gospels is basically that they come from the "overheated imaginations of various 2d century Christians" (122) and that "they belong in a study of the patristic Church from the 2d to 4th century" (123).
The final section of the chapter deals with the Nag Hammadi discoveries of 1945. He defers to the study of others like Christopher Tuckett who find no independent information on Jesus. He quickly dismisses works like the Gospel of Philip and gets right down to the real point of interest, namely the Gospel of Thomas. Of all the material in the chapter with any likelihood at all to give us information about Jesus independent of the canonical gospels, it is the Gospel of Thomas.
Meier in the end concludes, "I think that the Synoptic-like sayings of the Gospel of Thomas are in fact dependent on the Synoptic Gospels and that the other 2d-century Christian gnosticism" (139). My conclusion, for whatever it's worth, is similar. The most distinctive sayings in Thomas are later and represent a gnosticizing tendency--far too realized an eschatology for the historical Jesus. The remainder could very well be independent Jesus tradition, but it doesn't really add anything startling to our understanding of him.
"Agrapha" is a term used for scattered sayings attributed to Jesus that appear here and there, "unwritten" sayings. Joachim Jeremias, mid-twentieth century German scholar, found eighteen candidates he accepted as genuine words of Jesus found elsewhere than in the gospels. Meier is not so optimistic. Jeremias' arguments amount to Jesus could have said this. "Hypothesis is piled on hypothesis" (114) and "even when all eighteen are accepted, nothing new is added to our picture."
The rest of the chapter dives into two bodies of literature that are potential candidates for Jesus material independent of the gospels. The first are the "apocryphal gospels" like the Protoevangelium of James, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of the Nazarenes, the Gospel of the Ebionites, the Gospel of the Hebrews, etc... He leaves the Coptic Gospel of Thomas for the final section.
Meier rightly dismisses the Protogospel of James and the Infancy Gospel as fanciful and bizarre second century speculation about Jesus' childhood. Then he considers the Jewish Christian fragments of the Gospel of the Nararenes, the Gospel of the Ebionites, and the Gospel of the Hebrews. All, he believes are dependent on the canonical gospels rather than relayers of independent Jesus tradition.
Finally, this section treats some of the sources that have been favorites of John Dominic Crossan. Meier finds Crossan's theory that the Gospel of Peter reflects a earlier "Cross Gospel" that was used as the basis of Mark's passion story unnecessarily complicated. Basically, "the simplest theory that explains the most data is to be preferred" (116). And the simplest explanation of the Gospel of Peter is that "it is a 2d century pastiche of traditions from the canonical Gospels" (117). He does offer linguistic evidence as well.
As far as the Egerton Papyrus 2, Meier similarly concludes that we get no new information about Jesus and that it is nevertheless still more likely than not that they are based on the canonical gospels.
The final possibility in this section of the chapter is the Secret Gospel of Mark. Once again, Meier finds the hypotheses of Crossan and Helmut Koester ridiculously complicated in comparison to the simplest hypothesis that it is based on the canonical gospels. Further, "to use such a small fragment of dubious origins to rewrite the history of Jesus and the Gospel tradition is to lean on a reed" (121).
His summary of these 2nd century gospels is basically that they come from the "overheated imaginations of various 2d century Christians" (122) and that "they belong in a study of the patristic Church from the 2d to 4th century" (123).
The final section of the chapter deals with the Nag Hammadi discoveries of 1945. He defers to the study of others like Christopher Tuckett who find no independent information on Jesus. He quickly dismisses works like the Gospel of Philip and gets right down to the real point of interest, namely the Gospel of Thomas. Of all the material in the chapter with any likelihood at all to give us information about Jesus independent of the canonical gospels, it is the Gospel of Thomas.
Meier in the end concludes, "I think that the Synoptic-like sayings of the Gospel of Thomas are in fact dependent on the Synoptic Gospels and that the other 2d-century Christian gnosticism" (139). My conclusion, for whatever it's worth, is similar. The most distinctive sayings in Thomas are later and represent a gnosticizing tendency--far too realized an eschatology for the historical Jesus. The remainder could very well be independent Jesus tradition, but it doesn't really add anything startling to our understanding of him.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
On the Third Day of Meier...
On the third day of Meier, his Marginal Jew brought to me, 3) Tacitus and other Jewish sources; 2) Josephus and the books of the canon; and 1) and an introduction to the historical Jesus.
Chapter 4 divides into two parts. The first deals with a reference in the Roman historian Tacitus to Christ in his discussion of the fire of Rome. Tacitus wrote his Annals near the end of his life (he died in AD118). Unfortunately, the part of the Annals dealing with AD29-31 are missing, and Jesus likely died in AD30 (according to Meier). But Tacitus does mention Christians in his discussion of Nero's blaming of Christians for the fire (AD64).
Here is the excerpt Meier mentions: "Therefore, to squelch the rumor, Nero created scapegoats and subjected to the most refined tortures those whom the common people called 'Christians,' [a group] hated for their abominable crimes. There name comes from Christ, who, during the reign of Tiberius, had been executed by the procurator Pontius Pilate. Suppressed for the moment, the deadly superstition broke out again, not only in Judea, the land which originated this evil, but also in the city of Rome, where all sorts of horrendous and shameful practices from every part of the world converge and are fervently cultivated."
Perhaps the most interesting tidbit that Meier extracts from this excerpt is that the Christian movement was already in existence before Christ's execution. He argues that Tacitus is probably only passing on common knowledge. He gets Pilate's position wrong (he was a prefect rather than procurator) so isn't using official Roman sources.
Similarly, the early second century reference to Christians in Pliny the Younger and in the satire The Passing of Peregrinus by Lucian of Samosata add nothing new to our knowledge and are not independent sources. We learn from them what an educated pagan of the second century might know about Jesus (92).
Meier concludes similarly of rabbinic sources: "this vast literature contains no independent reference to or information about Jesus of Nazareth" (93). He agrees with Joseph Klausner that the very few references to Jesus in the Talmud (400s) are of little historical worth (95) and with Johann Maier about pre-Talmudic material that there is no authentic mention of Jesus in the Mishna. In short, "in the earliest rabbinic sources, there is no clear or even probable reference to Jesus of Nazareth (98).
Chapter 4 divides into two parts. The first deals with a reference in the Roman historian Tacitus to Christ in his discussion of the fire of Rome. Tacitus wrote his Annals near the end of his life (he died in AD118). Unfortunately, the part of the Annals dealing with AD29-31 are missing, and Jesus likely died in AD30 (according to Meier). But Tacitus does mention Christians in his discussion of Nero's blaming of Christians for the fire (AD64).
Here is the excerpt Meier mentions: "Therefore, to squelch the rumor, Nero created scapegoats and subjected to the most refined tortures those whom the common people called 'Christians,' [a group] hated for their abominable crimes. There name comes from Christ, who, during the reign of Tiberius, had been executed by the procurator Pontius Pilate. Suppressed for the moment, the deadly superstition broke out again, not only in Judea, the land which originated this evil, but also in the city of Rome, where all sorts of horrendous and shameful practices from every part of the world converge and are fervently cultivated."
Perhaps the most interesting tidbit that Meier extracts from this excerpt is that the Christian movement was already in existence before Christ's execution. He argues that Tacitus is probably only passing on common knowledge. He gets Pilate's position wrong (he was a prefect rather than procurator) so isn't using official Roman sources.
Similarly, the early second century reference to Christians in Pliny the Younger and in the satire The Passing of Peregrinus by Lucian of Samosata add nothing new to our knowledge and are not independent sources. We learn from them what an educated pagan of the second century might know about Jesus (92).
Meier concludes similarly of rabbinic sources: "this vast literature contains no independent reference to or information about Jesus of Nazareth" (93). He agrees with Joseph Klausner that the very few references to Jesus in the Talmud (400s) are of little historical worth (95) and with Johann Maier about pre-Talmudic material that there is no authentic mention of Jesus in the Mishna. In short, "in the earliest rabbinic sources, there is no clear or even probable reference to Jesus of Nazareth (98).
Saturday, December 27, 2008
On the Second Day of Meier...
I realize I'm a day off in terms of the days of Christmas. Two chapters today on sources for approaching the historical Jesus.
Chapter 2: "The Canonical Books of the New Testament
This chapter begins with the apt, "The major source of our knowledge about the historical Jesus is also the major problem: the four canonical Gospels" (41). The Gospels "aim first of all at proclaiming and strengthening faith in Jesus as Son of God, Lord, and Messiah."
We only know fragments about about a 3 year period of Jesus' life, so it is impossible to write any normal biography of Jesus' life. "Still worse, we know next to nothing about the true historical sequence of the events that are preserved for us" (41). Mark, he argues, has tied things together by forms, key words, and themes (like controversy stories) rather than by historical sequence. And Matthew and Luke, who drew on Mark, felt free to rearrange this material in ways that suited their purposes. Matthew thus freely reorders Mark's miracle stories into a collection of three groups of threes. So "there is no way in which we can determine which order of events might be historical--if, indeed, any is" (42).
Beyond the gospel writers freedom to rearrange the order, the gospel writers apparently were not concerned to preserve Jesus' exact wording. Certainly it is possible that Jesus repeated his material in various forms, giving rise to variations of wording. However, Meier turns to the eucharistic words of Jesus to show that even with a very important event that only took place once, "the early Church guaranteed agreement in substance, not in exact wording" (43).
Meier goes with John as an independent source of information rather than a variation on, say, Mark. "John's Gospel, in my opinion, is not to be rejected en masse and a priori as a source for the historical Jesus" (45). John is often rejected as a source for the historical Jesus because it is so symbolic. But Meier argues that "'the tyranny of the Synoptic Jesus' should be consigned to the dustbin of the post-Bultmannians."
He discusses Paul, who is notorious for the absence of Jesus teaching in his writings. But Meier does note that "Paul does not feel free to create teachings and put them into the mouth of Jesus" (46).
Chapter 3: Josephus
I have referred to this chapter in the book often over the years for its very fair treatment of the "Testimoninum Flavianum," the famous possible reference of Josephus to Jesus. There are two other possible references as well. The first is in an obscure Russian manuscript of Josephus and very obviously a Christian interpolation...
We have to remember that we only have copies of Josephus' writings because Christians copied them. Just as there is textual criticism of the New Testament, there is textual criticism of other ancient authors like Josephus. We thus always have to consider the possibility that the Christian copyists have "tinkered" a little with these sorts of Jewish manuscripts. An "interpolation" is an insertion into a manuscript.
One likely reference in Josephus' Antiquities (20.9.1) is in his mention of the conspiracy to kill James in between Roman procurators (AD62). Josephus matter of factly clarifies who this James was by referring to him as "the brother of Jesus who is called Christ." Josephus isn't really interested in James, he is interested in Ananus, who convened the Sanhedrin in between procurators. Josephus' reference implies no faith in Jesus.
The best known passage, however (Ant. 18.3.3), includes comments in reference to Jesus like "if indeed one should call him a man" and "he was the Messiah" and "he appeared to them on the third day." These sorts of comments would not come from Josephus--only a Christian would say such things. For this reason, scholars of the 1800's considered the whole quote a Christian interpolation.
But the tide has rightly turned, and Meier gives a perfectly plausible reconstruction of what Josephus likely said originally:
"At this time there appeared Jesus, a wise man. For he was a doer of startling deeds, a teacher of people who receive the truth with pleasure. And he gained a following both among many Jews and among many of Greek origin. And when Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned him to the cross, those who had loved him did not cease to do so. And up until this very day the tribe of Christians (named after him) has not died out."
Chapter 2: "The Canonical Books of the New Testament
This chapter begins with the apt, "The major source of our knowledge about the historical Jesus is also the major problem: the four canonical Gospels" (41). The Gospels "aim first of all at proclaiming and strengthening faith in Jesus as Son of God, Lord, and Messiah."
We only know fragments about about a 3 year period of Jesus' life, so it is impossible to write any normal biography of Jesus' life. "Still worse, we know next to nothing about the true historical sequence of the events that are preserved for us" (41). Mark, he argues, has tied things together by forms, key words, and themes (like controversy stories) rather than by historical sequence. And Matthew and Luke, who drew on Mark, felt free to rearrange this material in ways that suited their purposes. Matthew thus freely reorders Mark's miracle stories into a collection of three groups of threes. So "there is no way in which we can determine which order of events might be historical--if, indeed, any is" (42).
Beyond the gospel writers freedom to rearrange the order, the gospel writers apparently were not concerned to preserve Jesus' exact wording. Certainly it is possible that Jesus repeated his material in various forms, giving rise to variations of wording. However, Meier turns to the eucharistic words of Jesus to show that even with a very important event that only took place once, "the early Church guaranteed agreement in substance, not in exact wording" (43).
Meier goes with John as an independent source of information rather than a variation on, say, Mark. "John's Gospel, in my opinion, is not to be rejected en masse and a priori as a source for the historical Jesus" (45). John is often rejected as a source for the historical Jesus because it is so symbolic. But Meier argues that "'the tyranny of the Synoptic Jesus' should be consigned to the dustbin of the post-Bultmannians."
He discusses Paul, who is notorious for the absence of Jesus teaching in his writings. But Meier does note that "Paul does not feel free to create teachings and put them into the mouth of Jesus" (46).
Chapter 3: Josephus
I have referred to this chapter in the book often over the years for its very fair treatment of the "Testimoninum Flavianum," the famous possible reference of Josephus to Jesus. There are two other possible references as well. The first is in an obscure Russian manuscript of Josephus and very obviously a Christian interpolation...
We have to remember that we only have copies of Josephus' writings because Christians copied them. Just as there is textual criticism of the New Testament, there is textual criticism of other ancient authors like Josephus. We thus always have to consider the possibility that the Christian copyists have "tinkered" a little with these sorts of Jewish manuscripts. An "interpolation" is an insertion into a manuscript.
One likely reference in Josephus' Antiquities (20.9.1) is in his mention of the conspiracy to kill James in between Roman procurators (AD62). Josephus matter of factly clarifies who this James was by referring to him as "the brother of Jesus who is called Christ." Josephus isn't really interested in James, he is interested in Ananus, who convened the Sanhedrin in between procurators. Josephus' reference implies no faith in Jesus.
The best known passage, however (Ant. 18.3.3), includes comments in reference to Jesus like "if indeed one should call him a man" and "he was the Messiah" and "he appeared to them on the third day." These sorts of comments would not come from Josephus--only a Christian would say such things. For this reason, scholars of the 1800's considered the whole quote a Christian interpolation.
But the tide has rightly turned, and Meier gives a perfectly plausible reconstruction of what Josephus likely said originally:
"At this time there appeared Jesus, a wise man. For he was a doer of startling deeds, a teacher of people who receive the truth with pleasure. And he gained a following both among many Jews and among many of Greek origin. And when Pilate, because of an accusation made by the leading men among us, condemned him to the cross, those who had loved him did not cease to do so. And up until this very day the tribe of Christians (named after him) has not died out."
Friday, December 26, 2008
On the First Day of Meier...
My goal for the twelve days of Christmas until Epiphany is to wade through John P. Meier's 1991 The Marginal Jesus: Rethinking the Historical Jesus. Sorry to say I'm using the first printing, now subtitled more clearly: "The Roots of the Problem and the Person" (known in 1991 but now printed as the subtitle). I've dipped in the book from time to time, but have never plowed through it. Also, the fourth volume in this series comes out this year, so I have a lot of catching up to do :-)
I deeply respect Meier as a scholar and a person of faith. He is Roman Catholic, so has an orthodox faith. He teaches at Notre Dame.
But he makes clear that he is undertaking a historical quest in this book. Where the book ends he expects faith to take over. He is a model of the attempt at objectivity. It is interesting to read it, now 17 years old. A lot has been written since 1991. "Third Quest" for the historical Jesus books were just beginning to surface at the time. He considers E. P. Sanders' Jesus and Judaism one of the only significant ones in recent times... in 1991.
Since then we have seen N. T. Wright's series and now James Dunn's, not to mention a host of other little projects (Crossan, Borg, Stanton, Witherington, Luke T. Johson, Frederikson...). The glut of Jesus books makes this one of those topics to let lie for a while, just like Paul and Pauline theology. Theological interpretation is the current rave... :-)
So to begin...
In both the Introduction and the first chapter, the pages for today, Meier makes a distinction between the historical aims of his book and a full picture of Jesus. On the one hand, the introduction makes clear that he is aiming at historical common ground for all historians of Jesus. In other words, if you had a Catholic, a Protestant, a Jew, and an agnostic in a room together with all the historical data, what might they agree is fairly compelling about the evidence in relation to Jesus.
The result will be nothing like a full picture of Jesus, especially for the Christians in the room. For example, the resurrection is not a matter for historical investigation at least in the sense that God raised Jesus from the dead and Jesus now lives. I'm filling in Meier here, but we might say historical things about Jesus' body being missing three days after his death. We might say that the disciples were convinced that they had seen him alive after his death. These claims are the perview of historical research. But to say that he is alive is the stuff of faith.
Meier is thus, like me, more of a chastened modernist than an unbridled postmodernist. He recognizes the impossibility of objectivity. He likes Karl Rahner's term, an "asymptotic goal" in relation to objectivity, "It is a goal we have to keep pressing toward, even though we may never fully reach it" (4). Frankly, I consider myself a truer postmodernist than most of those who throw the term around, a "disciplined" postmodernist.
There are some who will scoff at Meier... and me... at this point, dismiss us as so much yesterday's news, 17 years ago and thus unaware of postmodern developments. But we are aware and recognize the uncertainty of what we are doing. We will be waiting for them after people get tired of rampant subjectivity and we become useful to them again. Meier writes, "the most important hedge against rampant subjectivism is an honest admission of one's own personal stance, one's own point of view and background" (5).
Meier also appeals to Aquinas' distinction between things we know by reason and things we know by faith (6). He suggests that he is just asking one question at a time. In this book, he takes up the things that can be "known" by reason. All the caveats are there.
I also want to reiterate my position on theological interpretation. I believe the most important reading of the Bible for Christians is a Christian one, namely, one informed by two thousand years of Christians reading the Bible with the eyes of the Spirit. People like Meier, and I would primarily include myself in this category most of the time, are not so important because our main skills are those of historical-cultural exegesis.
We are skilled at asking questions like "What did Paul mean by that statement?" or "What is the most likely history behind this theological presentation?" I believe the church should have some of us around on retainer, because, again, the alternative is the late medieval Catholic Church or the rampant subjectivity of "spiritual" exegesis, which often is not spiritual. Theological interpretation is most mature when it is a matter of second naivity, rather than what is now simply ignorance of how to read the Bible in context at all.
But I digress :-)
Meier discusses the title, "marginal Jew," in the introduction. He suggests several ways in which that is significant. The one that stands out the most to me is the fact that while Jesus appears all significant to us as Christians, he was a nobody from nowhere in the first century. He barely gets a mention by any secular person, a "blip" on the radar screen (7).
I'll skip over the rest of the introduction to his first chapter, where Meier distinguishes between the "real" Jesus and the "historical" Jesus. I don't have Luke Timothy Johnson's The Real Jesus nearby to see if he later played off this section in Meier for his title.
Meier's conclusions here are fourfold: 1) the total reality of any person (including myself) is unknowable, 2) for many figures of modern history (Nixon, Reagan), we can construct a "reasonably complete" picture, 3) this is only possible for a relatively few great ancient figures (Caesar, Cicero), 4) Jesus is not one of them. We cannot know the "real" Jesus through historical research. Meier may be optimistic here about people like Caesar, frankly.
The final section of the first chapter comments on the frequent German distinction between the "historical" Jesus (Jesus as he was) and the "historic" Jesus (Jesus as he impacts us). Meier catalogs the confused history of these terms and then basically stamps them "unhelpful." He comes back to his basic aims as a historian: "For the moment, we are prescinding from faith, not denying it" (31). In other words, he will ask historical questions without denying any presuppositions of Christian faith. And "the historical Jesus is not the real Jesus, but only a fragmentary hypothetical reconstruction of him by modern means of research" (31).
I deeply respect Meier as a scholar and a person of faith. He is Roman Catholic, so has an orthodox faith. He teaches at Notre Dame.
But he makes clear that he is undertaking a historical quest in this book. Where the book ends he expects faith to take over. He is a model of the attempt at objectivity. It is interesting to read it, now 17 years old. A lot has been written since 1991. "Third Quest" for the historical Jesus books were just beginning to surface at the time. He considers E. P. Sanders' Jesus and Judaism one of the only significant ones in recent times... in 1991.
Since then we have seen N. T. Wright's series and now James Dunn's, not to mention a host of other little projects (Crossan, Borg, Stanton, Witherington, Luke T. Johson, Frederikson...). The glut of Jesus books makes this one of those topics to let lie for a while, just like Paul and Pauline theology. Theological interpretation is the current rave... :-)
So to begin...
In both the Introduction and the first chapter, the pages for today, Meier makes a distinction between the historical aims of his book and a full picture of Jesus. On the one hand, the introduction makes clear that he is aiming at historical common ground for all historians of Jesus. In other words, if you had a Catholic, a Protestant, a Jew, and an agnostic in a room together with all the historical data, what might they agree is fairly compelling about the evidence in relation to Jesus.
The result will be nothing like a full picture of Jesus, especially for the Christians in the room. For example, the resurrection is not a matter for historical investigation at least in the sense that God raised Jesus from the dead and Jesus now lives. I'm filling in Meier here, but we might say historical things about Jesus' body being missing three days after his death. We might say that the disciples were convinced that they had seen him alive after his death. These claims are the perview of historical research. But to say that he is alive is the stuff of faith.
Meier is thus, like me, more of a chastened modernist than an unbridled postmodernist. He recognizes the impossibility of objectivity. He likes Karl Rahner's term, an "asymptotic goal" in relation to objectivity, "It is a goal we have to keep pressing toward, even though we may never fully reach it" (4). Frankly, I consider myself a truer postmodernist than most of those who throw the term around, a "disciplined" postmodernist.
There are some who will scoff at Meier... and me... at this point, dismiss us as so much yesterday's news, 17 years ago and thus unaware of postmodern developments. But we are aware and recognize the uncertainty of what we are doing. We will be waiting for them after people get tired of rampant subjectivity and we become useful to them again. Meier writes, "the most important hedge against rampant subjectivism is an honest admission of one's own personal stance, one's own point of view and background" (5).
Meier also appeals to Aquinas' distinction between things we know by reason and things we know by faith (6). He suggests that he is just asking one question at a time. In this book, he takes up the things that can be "known" by reason. All the caveats are there.
I also want to reiterate my position on theological interpretation. I believe the most important reading of the Bible for Christians is a Christian one, namely, one informed by two thousand years of Christians reading the Bible with the eyes of the Spirit. People like Meier, and I would primarily include myself in this category most of the time, are not so important because our main skills are those of historical-cultural exegesis.
We are skilled at asking questions like "What did Paul mean by that statement?" or "What is the most likely history behind this theological presentation?" I believe the church should have some of us around on retainer, because, again, the alternative is the late medieval Catholic Church or the rampant subjectivity of "spiritual" exegesis, which often is not spiritual. Theological interpretation is most mature when it is a matter of second naivity, rather than what is now simply ignorance of how to read the Bible in context at all.
But I digress :-)
Meier discusses the title, "marginal Jew," in the introduction. He suggests several ways in which that is significant. The one that stands out the most to me is the fact that while Jesus appears all significant to us as Christians, he was a nobody from nowhere in the first century. He barely gets a mention by any secular person, a "blip" on the radar screen (7).
I'll skip over the rest of the introduction to his first chapter, where Meier distinguishes between the "real" Jesus and the "historical" Jesus. I don't have Luke Timothy Johnson's The Real Jesus nearby to see if he later played off this section in Meier for his title.
Meier's conclusions here are fourfold: 1) the total reality of any person (including myself) is unknowable, 2) for many figures of modern history (Nixon, Reagan), we can construct a "reasonably complete" picture, 3) this is only possible for a relatively few great ancient figures (Caesar, Cicero), 4) Jesus is not one of them. We cannot know the "real" Jesus through historical research. Meier may be optimistic here about people like Caesar, frankly.
The final section of the first chapter comments on the frequent German distinction between the "historical" Jesus (Jesus as he was) and the "historic" Jesus (Jesus as he impacts us). Meier catalogs the confused history of these terms and then basically stamps them "unhelpful." He comes back to his basic aims as a historian: "For the moment, we are prescinding from faith, not denying it" (31). In other words, he will ask historical questions without denying any presuppositions of Christian faith. And "the historical Jesus is not the real Jesus, but only a fragmentary hypothetical reconstruction of him by modern means of research" (31).
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