A Review of N.T. Wright's The Challenge of Jesus

This will be a chapter-by-chapter review of N.T. Wright's book The Challenge of Jesus. Wright is a prolific Anglican theologian. The core of the book comes from a series of lectures he gave in the late 1990s concerning a wide array of topics pertaining to Jesus, such as how radical his message was, the evidence for his resurrection, and how Christians should follow Jesus in the world today.

My general reaction to this book was positive, though I no doubt had disagreements (some of these will be highlighted in the content that follows). Wright endorses positions I do not hold, such as his views surrounding Pauline theology of justification by faith, but he is well within the bounds of orthodoxy and has produced much edifying content over the years.

All references are to the book. The page numbers are approximate and based off of a digital edition of the text.

Chapter 1 - The Challenge of Studying Jesus

In Chapter 1, Wright discusses the importance and challenges of studying the historical Jesus. Indeed, as he says, "I regard the continuing historical quest for Jesus as a necessary part of ongoing Christian discipleship." (15) He gives four reasons that make it "imperative":
1) "We shall only discover who the true and living God actually is if we take the risk of looking at Jesus himself. That is why contemporary debates about Jesus are so important; they are also debates about God himself." (17)
2) Loyalty to Scripture. "For me the dynamic of a commitment to Scripture is not 'we believe the Bible, so there is nothing more to be learned' but rather 'we believe the Bible, so we had better discover all the things in it to which our traditions, including our "protestant" or "evangelical" traditions, which have supposed themselves to be "biblical" but are sometimes demonstrably not, have made us blind.'" (17)
3) The Christian imperative to truth. Wright puts it boldly "Christians must not be afraid of truth." (17) He points out that this is the attitude of the reductionists, but says that that this is not his agenda. He intends to "go deeper into the meaning" (17) of Christian doctrines and come to a greater understanding of them within their original setting.
4) The Christian commitment to mission. "The skeptics can and must be answered," says Wright, "and when we do so we will not merely reaffirm the traditions of the church, whether Protestant, Catholic, evangelical or whatever." (18) This is crucially important for the church today in winning intellectually-minded people to its fold.

Wright then pivots into a brief historical discussion of the study of the historical Jesus. He focuses on the Enlightenment, highlighting the intellectual development thereof and the splintering of the scholarly landscape into polarized extremes. "Jesus was almost bound to appear as the teacher of either liberal timeless truths or conservative timeless truths." (22) He goes on to say, "I believe, then, that within the multiple tasks to which God is calling the church in our own generation, there remains the necessary task of addressing the Enlightenment's question as to who precisely Jesus was and what precisely he accomplished." (22)

The next section contains a discussion of new opportunities in the quest. Wright highlights the tools we have now that make it easier than ever to study Jesus in the setting of first-century Judaism, such as the Dead Sea Scrolls. He argues that seminarians, pastors, and even non-specialists should take the quest seriously.

"It is because we believe we are called to be the people of God for the world that we must take the full historical task with utter seriousness. Study all the evidence; think through all the arguments... If human maturity is evidenced by delayed gratification, one sign of Christian maturity may be a readiness to hear the argument through to the end, not short-circuiting it in the interests of a quick-fix spirituality or missiology. Patience is as much a virtue in history and theology as it is anywhere else." (29-30)

Chapter 2 - The Challenge of the Kingdom

In Chapter 2, Wright sets out to address the question "What did Jesus mean when he said the kingdom of God was at hand?" (32)

He analyzes what "the kingdom of God" would mean in the context of first-century Judaism. He explains: "The Jews of Jesus' day, as is well-known, were living under foreign rule and had been for several centuries. The worst thing about that was not the high taxation, the alien laws, the brutality of oppression and so on, awful though that often was. The worst thing was that the foreigners were pagan. If Israel was truly God's people, why were the pagans ruling over her?" (33)

He explains that the Jews had three options for dealing with this conflict:
1) Quietist: "Separate yourself from the wicked world and wait for God to do whatever God is going to do." (34)
2) Compromise: "Build yourself fortresses and palaces, get along with your political bosses as well as you can, do as well out of it as you can and hope that God will validate it somehow." (34)
3) Zealot: "Say your prayers, sharpen your swords, make yourselves holy to fight a war, and God will give you a military victory that will also be the theological victory of good over evil, of God over the hordes of darkness, of the Son of Man over the monsters." (34)

Wright argues that Jesus was none of the above—"he went back to Israel's Scriptures and found there another kingdom-model, equally Jewish if not more so... The kingdom of God, he said, is at hand." (34) In other words, God was going to have mercy on Israel and the whole world through Jesus.

He asserts, "Jews of Jesus' day did not, by and large, expect that the space-time universe was going to come to a stop. They did expect that God was going to act so dramatically within the space-time universe, as he had before at key moments like the Exodus, that the only appropriate language would be the language of a world taken apart and reborn." (35)

Wright moves on to discuss the thrust of Jesus' messages from three different angles: the end of exile, the call of the renewed people, and disaster and vindication.

The End of Exile

Wright discusses two parables that he argues can be freshly understood when read within their historical context. The first is the parable of the sower. He argues that the parable has two Old Testament roots: the prophetic language used of Israel's return of exile (e.g. Jeremiah's discourse on God sowing the Israelites in their own land) and the apocalyptic storytelling found elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures. For the latter he references Daniel 2. In short, "The kingdom of God, the return from exile, the great climax of Israel's history, is here, Jesus is saying, though it does not look like you thought it would." (37)

The second parable is of the prodigal son. "A story about a scoundrel young son who goes off into a far pagan country and is then astonishlingly welcomed back home is—of course!—the story of exile and restoration... The parable was not a general illustration of the timeless truth of God's forgiveness for the sinner, though of course it can be translated into that. It was a sharp-edged, context-specific message about what was happening in Jesus' ministry." (38)

Wright argues that both of these parables teach general theological truths as well as specific things about the kingdom of Israel and the return from exile. 

The Call of the Renewed People 

Wright offers an analysis of Jesus' call to "repent and believe", arguing that we need to understand it within the context of first-century Judaism. He offers a particularly interesting example from Josephus to illustrate what the phrase meant in that context.

As a young military commander, Josephus was tasked with persuading the Galileans against brazenly revolting against Rome, telling them that they should instead trust the Jewish leaders to come up with a better plan. "So when he confronted the rebel leader, he says that he told him to give up his own agenda and to trust him, Josephus, instead. And the word he uses are remarkably familiar to readers of the Gospels: he told the brigand leader to 'repent and believe in me'." (40) In other words, Josephus was telling the rebel leader to stop trying to bring about the desired outcome on your own. There's a better plan; you just have to wait. Wright comments: "Even if we end up suggesting that Jesus meant more than Josephus did—that there were indeed religious and theological dimensions to his invitation—we cannot suppose that he meant less. He was telling his hearers to give up their agendas and to trust him for his way of being Israel, his way of bringing the kingdom, his kingdom-agenda." (40)

At the end of this section, Wright comments regarding the reliability of the Gospels that Jesus' lack of emphasis on reaching the Gentiles is "an interesting sign" (43) that the Gospel authors were concerned about the reliability of the sayings about Jesus. This is an example of restraint on the part of the Gospel authors. While no individual example of restraint shows much, the combined strength of numerous examples is a good piece of evidence for the reliability of the Gospels.

Disaster and Vindication

In this section Wright addresses some of the claims that Jesus thought the world would end in his lifetime. With regard to the Olivet discourse, he says "... it is to be read, I suggest, as a prediction not of the end of the world but of the fall of Jerusalem. The critical thing, here and elsewhere, is to understand how apocalyptic language works." (45)

Ultimately, Wright concludes that Jesus did not think the world would end in his lifetime. For topical reasons, he doesn't provide a full treatment of the various verses and historical observations used in support of this view. Some of these matters have been addressed by others on this blog. See here, for example.

Chapter 3 - The Challenge of the Symbols

Chapter 3 contains a discussion of various symbols of Judaism that received new meaning through the person of Jesus as well as new symbols of the in-breaking kingdom of God.

The Symbols of Judaism 

The Sabbath. Wright comments, "All the signs are that Jesus behaved with sovereign freedom toward the sabbath." He discusses the various attitudes Jesus displayed toward the Sabbath, emphasizing that Luke's gospel argues "the sabbath was the most appropriate day for healing to take place". (54) In Jesus' ministry, therefore, he is indicating that Israel's sabbath has come.

Nation and land. Wright discusses how many of Jesus' sayings seemed to undermine the honor the Jews placed on their nation and land. Jesus repeatedly teaches that the kingdom of God is more important than the nation and land of the Jews.

Temple. The primary symbol of Judaism is the Temple, and Wright spends much more time discussing this than the other signs. He emphasizes that Jesus' attitude toward the Temple was not one of trivial disaffection: "His deepest belief regarding the Temple was eschatological: the time had come for God to judge the entire institution." (57) He then discusses Jesus' purpose in cleansing the temple, ultimately arguing that Jesus was, in a sense, acting out the Temple's destruction. I'm generally skeptical of these arguments that try and enter the mind of Jesus, declaring what his intent was in what he did. Wright's proposal has an aura of plausibility to it, however, even if we accept that Jesus' purpose in cleansing the temple was most likely multifaceted. 

The Symbols of the Kingdom 

Land and people. Wright argues that Jesus chose specific locations, such as the Temple or the Mount of Olives, for purposes of "symbolic geography" (60) when he was delivering a teaching. He also argues that Jesus' healings are to be seen as symbolic of the reconstitution of Israel. He summarizes the "messianic rule" from Qumran (1QSa) as "There the blind, the lame, the deaf and the dumb were excluded from membership in the community of God's restored people." (60) In other words, healing was a prerequisite for entry into the kingdom of God, so Jesus' healing people was symbolic of the beginning of the kingdom.

Family. "Through his actions and words Jesus was calling into being a people with a new identity, a new family." (61)

Torah. Wright notes the correlation between forgiveness and the Exile. The Exile was viewed as punishment for Israel's sins, and so forgiveness was inextricably linked with the return from Exile. "If Jesus' table-fellowship replaced the food laws, his demand of forgiveness was part of his definition of the new family, the new people of God. In other words, it was part of his redefined symbolic Torah." (62)

Temple. Wright notes some indications throughout Jesus' ministry on God being present outside of the Temple in the same way he would be inside of it, thus establishing a new system by which Israel could relate to God. He references the Jewish practice of fasting as shown in Mark 2:18-22. Since fasting was a result of the Exile, Wright argues, the fact that Jesus' disciples didn't fast symbolized the end of the Exile.

Wright closes the chapter by concluding that we can definitively say that Jesus regarded the kingdom of God as happening in the present but continuing on into the future. (64)

Chapter 4 - The Crucified Messiah

Chapter 4 is a discussion of the fact that the Messiah was crucified—an unexpected turn—and its ramifications for the grand turning point of history.

After cautioning us about our inability to discern the psychological disposition of an ancient individual, Wright comments, "What we can in principle do as historians, however, is to study someone's awareness of vocation... We can examine their actions and sayings and can work back with a fair degree of certainty to their aims and intentions. This is not to psychoanalyze them. It is to do what historians normally do." (67)

He goes on to say, "The messianic agenda aimed, through these things, to do for Israel what Israel's prophets had declared would be done: to rescue Israel and to bring God's justice to the world. Part of asking, 'Did Jesus think he was the Messiah?' is to ask, 'Did he in any sense intend to accomplish these tasks?'" (67) Wright argues that the resurrection alone would not convince the Jews that Jesus was the Messiah; there had to be some expectation or sense that he was that before he died. Having said this, Wright launches into an examination of the life of Jesus for characteristics of Messiahship.

A primary piece of evidence cited for Jesus' messianic actions is how he pronounced judgment on the Temple. He also cites some of Jesus' parables, such as the parable of the wicked tenants, as evidencing Messiahship.

After discussing various other events in Jesus' career that are best viewed through this lens, Wright concludes the section by saying "[Jesus] came to accomplish Israel's rescue, to bring God's justice to the world." (72)

He comments later, "I propose, in other words, that we can credibly reconstruct a mindset in which a first-century Jew would come to believe that YHWH would act through the suffering of a particular individual in whom Israel's sufferings were focused; that this suffering would carry redemptive significance; and that this individual would be himself. And I propose that we can plausibly suggest that this was the mindset of Jesus himself." (78) This fits with some of Wright's comments elsewhere (see Chapter 5) about Jesus' lack of knowledge of his own deity. This is not a subject I have studied at length, but while Wright's position is certainly striking, I don't regard it as particularly problematic given a robust model of the incarnation.

With regard to how Jesus understood this mission, Wright comments, "He would thereby do for Israel what Israel could not do for herself. He would fulfill Israel's vocation that she should be the servant people, the light of the world. This, I suggest, was how Jesus understood his messianic vocation." (79)

In the conclusion of the chapter, Wright says that "some critical scholars have chided me with claiming to know more than we can and with projecting back into Jesus' mind all sorts of things that we cannot be sure were ever there." (81) As this is a criticism I had as well, I was curious to see how he would respond.

Wright responds by saying "the best historical hypothesis is the one that with appropriate simplicity explains the data before us... since so many details of this picture are not the same as the early church's atonement-theology... a very strong case can in fact be made out." (82) He says that "all the signs are that Jesus did indeed make this particular construal of the overarching narrative and apply it to himself" (82) and thus we are justified in believing that this is how Jesus thought of himself. Again, I find Wright's proposal plausible but not demonstrable with any degree of certainty. Though it does provide a beautiful picture of the grand metanarrative and Jesus' understanding of his place in it, a healthy skepticism is warranted.

Wright summarizes the chapter with an allusion to practical application, a matter he discusses more fully in Chapters 7 and 8: "The cross is the surest, truest and deepest window on the very heart and character of the living and loving God; the more we learn about the cross in all its historical and theological dimensions, the more we discover about the One in whose image we are made and hence about our own vocation to be the cross-bearing people, the people in whose lives and service the living God is made known." (83)

Chapter 5 - Jesus & God

In this chapter Wright addresses the questions "Was Jesus God?" and "Did Jesus know he was God?". He begins by explaining the ambiguity surrounding those questions: "There are, then, plenty of 'gods' currently on offer. But do any of them have anything to do with Jesus? It is vital that in our generation we enquire once more: to what, or rather whom, does the word god truly refer? And if as Christians we bring together Jesus and God in some kind of identity, what sort of an answer does that provide to our question?" (87)

Wright spends a few pages discussing Jewish monotheism and various concepts of the word "God" in first-century Judaism. He concludes by saying "Jewish monotheism was much more complicated than was supposed by those who said so glibly that since Jews were monotheists they could not conceive of a human being as divine." (94)

With this out of the way, the chapter discusses early Christian views of Jesus and God. Wright comments "All the signs are that the earliest Christians very quickly came to the startling conclusion that they were under obligation, without ceasing to be Jewish monotheists to worship Jesus." (94) As evidence of this high Christology, he cites 1 Corinthians 8.1-6, Philippians 2.5-11, Galatians 4.1-7, and Colossians 1.15-20.

Wright asks where the early Christians got the idea that they should elevate Jesus this highly. After heading off some "false trails" (e.g., that the Messiah was already conceived of as divine before Jesus came, or that the resurrection established Jesus' divinity), he moves back to the life and teaching of Jesus, asking "What signs are there within his own agenda and vocation that these trains of thought originated with him rather than being wished on him by the early church?" (98)

Wright emphasizes the conflict between Jesus and the Temple. The Temple is where God came to be with humanity, but Jesus was now the embodiment of God. "for Jesus to upstage the Temple, to take on its role and function and to legitimate this with Davidic claims, meant that Jesus was claiming that he rather than the Temple was the place where and the means by which the living God was present with Israel." (98) In support of Jesus' divine self-identity, Wright also emphasizes Jesus' authority over the Jewish Scripture and his understanding that he could issue a new version of the Torah.

Further on in the chapter, Wright argues that Jesus' parables about a master returning to see how his servants were getting along with things they were supposed to do is not a reference to the second coming: "Even granted that Jesus' hearers did not always grasp what he said, it strains probability a long way to think of him attempting to explain to people who had not grasped the fact of his imminent death that there would follow an indeterminate period after which he would 'return' in some spectacular fashion for which nothing in their tradition had prepared them." (103) Rather, he argues that they're symbolic of Jesus' final coming to Jerusalem before his crucifixion: "the return of YHWH to Zion" (104). 

Wright is skeptical that Jesus viewed himself as the second person of the Trinity and argues that we should cautious about assuming a particular view of God and then assuming that Jesus must have been just like that: "Focus, instead, on a young Jewish prophet telling a story about YHWH returning to Zion as judge and redeemer, and then embodying it by riding into the city in tears, symbolizing the Temple's destruction and celebrating the final exodus." (108) Again, this is an interesting proposal, but I lack the expertise to comment further on it.

The chapter thus closes: "When we see, as Paul says, the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, and when we rediscover the length and breadth of what that phrase means, we see and discover this not for our own benefit but so that the glory may shine in us and through us, to bring light and life to the world that still waits in darkness and the shadow of death." (109)

Chapter 6 - The Challenge of Easter

Chapter 6 contains a brief but substantive discussion of the resurrection.

Wright begins by discussing several popular but misguided attempts to explain away the resurrection, such as the swoon theory. "As has been shown often enough, the Romans knew how to kill people, and the reappearance of a battered and exhausted Jesus would hardly be likely to suggest to his followers something for which they were certainly not prepared, namely, that he had gone through death and out the other side." (113) 

He then comments on the Pauline distinction between resurrection and exaltation: "Paul argues that all Christians will be raised as Jesus was raised, but he does not suppose that they will thereby share the unique divine sonship that, in the same letter, he attributes to Jesus. Already in Paul, in fact, we see the clear distinction between 'resurrection'—a newly embodied life after death—and 'exaltation' or 'enthronement' a distinction that some scholars have suggested only enters the tradition with Luke." (115) In other words, Jesus' resurrection and exaltation were separate events. Wright comments further on this when he discusses 1 Corinthians 15.

Wright then proposes a historical argument about what happened on Easter, consisting of three stages with four steps each. He suggests that we need to view Christianity as a kingdom-of-God movement, a resurrection movement, and a messianic movement.

A kingdom-of-God movement
1. Early Christianity was a kingdom-of-god movement.
"Already by the time of Paul the phrase 'kingdom of God' had become more or less a shorthand for the movement, its way of life and its raison-d'être." (116)

2. "Kingdom of God" had specific meanings in Judaism.
The kingdom of God meant the return of Israel from exile and the accomplishment of God's purposes for it. "If you had said to some first-century Jews 'the kingdom of God is here' and had explained yourself by speaking of a new spiritual experience, a new sense of forgiveness, an exciting reordering of your private religious interiority, they might well have said that they were glad you had had this experience, but why did you refer to it as the kingdom of God?" (116)

3. These specific meanings had not come to pass.
"Israel was not liberated; the Temple was not rebuilt; looking wider, it was obvious that evil, injustice pain and death were still on the rampage." (117)

4. Therefore, there must be some reason why the Jews came to believe that the kingdom of God had arrived.
Wright argues that there must have been some reason for the Jews to come to these conclusions.

A resurrection movement
1. There were many different Jewish views about the afterlife.
Wright explains various views such as "ultimate nonphysical bliss" (118), the resurrection of the righteous, or no afterlife at all (as espoused by the Sadducees). He comments, "Though there was a range of belief about life after death, the word resurrection was only used to describe reembodiment, not the state of disembodied bliss." (118) I fear this is a bit of an oversimplification—there were other conceptions of resurrection at the time. However, a physical reembodiment was one of the most common, and thus factors into the background knowledge for what Jesus' resurrection was believed to be.

2. The temporary disembodiment preceding bodily resurrection could not be referred to as resurrection.
Wright links the Jewish understanding of "resurrection" to the return of Israel from exile. He argues that first-century Jews would have thought of resurrection as a package of embodiment and the dawning of the new age.

3. The new age, as traditionally conceived, had not come.
The general resurrection hadn't occurred yet. Wright cites Acts 4:2 ("...being greatly disturbed because they were teaching the people and proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection from the dead.") as evidence that the resurrection from the dead had already occurred. "They behaved, in other words, as though the new age had already arrived." (120)

4. There must be a reason the Jews came to believe Jesus was raised from the dead.
Again, Wright argues we must postulate a reason for this shift in Jewish beliefs.

A messianic movement
1. The early church continued to believe that Jesus was the Messiah, even after his death.
Jesus was called the Messiah well after his death. See, for example, Matthew 1.1. Wright argued in Chapter 4 that belief in the resurrection wouldn't have led the Christians to think Jesus was the Messiah; thus, there must have been some precedent for it in his words and teaching. 

2. There were clear expectations in Judaism for what the Messiah would accomplish.
"Jewish expectations of a Messiah, as we have seen often enough, focused on defeating the pagans, rebuilding the Temple and bringing God's justice to the world." (121)

3. Jesus did not fulfill these.
Obviously, the Roman empire was still very much intact after Jesus died, Israel hadn't been restored to its own land, and the world hadn't seen God's justice. Yet, the early church continued to affirm Jesus as the Messiah.

4. Therefore, we must explain why the early Christians continued to believe this.
Again, we must offer an explanation for this peculiar affirmation.

1 Corinthians 15
Wright pivots into a discussion of 1 Corinthians 15. He asserts that Paul's experience was different than the others: "We trace a clear sense that Paul knew that what had happened to him was precisely not like what had happened to the others." (124) He also argues that Paul's experience couldn't have merely been an inward spiritual illumination: "When he says 'last of all,' he means that what one might call the ordinary Christian experience of knowing the risen Jesus within the life of the church, of prayer and faith and the sacraments, was not the same sort of thing that had happened to him." (124) These are helpful observations that help answer some objections to Paul's use of the creed in 1 Corinthians 15. Discussion of some of these issues can be found here.

Wright then argues from linguistics that Paul believed in a physical resurrection, and concludes the section by discussing Paul's distinction between resurrection and exaltation: "1 Corinthians 15 clearly gives the lie to this. The exaltation of Jesus is clearly distinguished from the resurrection. Of course, since the risen Jesus is the same person as the exalted Lord and since his resurrection is the prior condition for his exaltation, there is close continuity between the two. Where his argument requires it (as, for instance, in Phil 2.5-11), Paul is quite capable of referring only to the exaltation, not to the resurrection. But in this passage where he sets the matter out more fully than anywhere else, the two are aligned without confusion and distinguished without dislocation." (127) I'm not entirely sure where Wright would draw the distinction between resurrection and exaltation in 1 Corinthians 15 and would have appreciated a further explication of his position.

Wright then offers a brief critique of the hallucination theory: "If one had described such an experience to a first-century Jew, and even if such a person had been entused to the extent of experiencing something similar himself or herself, it would never have convinced them that the age to come had burst into the present time, that it was now time for the Gentiles to hear the good news, that the kingdom was really here, that Jesus was after all the Messiah." (130) While this assertion requires nuance, the radical shift that so many Jews came to embrace is certainly a fact in need of an explanation.

A concluding quote: "I believe, therefore, that the only way forward for us as historians is to grasp the nettle, recognizing that we are of course here at the borders of language, of philosophy, of history and of theology. We had better learn to take seriously the witness of the entire early church, that Jesus of Nazareth was raised bodily to a new sort of life, three days after his execution." (130)

Chapter 7 - Walking to Emmaus in a Postmodern World

In this particularly touching chapter, Wright discusses what it looks like to display Christ in a postmodern world. He briefly discusses several cultural trends and modern outlooks on knowledge, truth, and the self, but spends the bulk of the chapter discussing the resurrection appearance on the Emmaus road through the lens of Psalms 42 and 43.

"The Hebrew Scriptures thus offered to Jesus and his contemporaries a story in search of an ending. Jesus' followers had thought the ending was going to happen with Jesus. And it clearly had not. How had they thought it would happen? The pattern of messianic and prophetic movements in the centuries either side of Jesus tells a fairly clear story. The method was quite simple: holiness, zeal for God and the law, and military revolt. The holy remnant with God on their side would defeat the pagan hordes. Thus it had always been in Scripture; thus, they believed, it would be when the great climax came, when Israel's God would become King of all the world." (141)

In light of this, Wright argues that the crucifixion would have been interpreted as the end of all hope that Jesus was the Messiah, and thus spark the discussion on the road to Emmaus.

But, Wright comments, "Suppose the reason the key would not fit the lock was because they were trying the wrong door. Suppose Jesus' execution was not the clear disproof of his messianic vocation but its confirmation and climax. Suppose the cross was not one more example of the triumph of paganism over God's people but was actually God's means of defeating evil once and for all. Suppose this was, after all, how the exile was designed to end, how sins were to be forgiven, how the kingdom was to come. Suppose this was what God's light and truth looked like coming unexpectedly to lead his people back into his presence." (143)

Wright then moves into a discussion concerning various details in Luke's narrative that could be symbolic, such as the breaking of bread and the fact that this is the eighth meal reported in Luke's Gospel (e.g., the first after the initial seven, symbolizing the start of the new creation week). I'm generally unconvinced by such speculative arguments, and these were no exception, but they were nonetheless interesting to hear.

The chapter ends with a discussion on how to apply this to living out Christ in our own culture. Wright puts a heavy emphasis on the actions of Christians, saying "I am reminded of St. Francis's instructions to his followers as he sent them out: preach the gospel by all means possible, he said, and if it's really necessary you could even use words." (148) I wholeheartedly agree with this: a Christian should be able to communicate the Gospel through their actions. As Wright says, "We must therefore get used to a mission that includes living the true Christian praxis. Christian praxis consists in the love of God in Christ being poured out in us and through us." (148)

Chapter 8 - The Light of the World

In this chapter, Wright elaborates on Chapter 7 and suggests some more practical applications. He repeatedly emphasizes the new world brought in by the resurrection of Jesus: "Then on Easter morning it is the first day of the week. Creation is complete; new creation can now begin." (156)

Wright then discusses some ways he thinks Christians have misunderstood the relationship between this world and the world that is to come: "Some have so emphasized the discontinuity between the present world and our work in it on the one hand and the future world that God will make on the other that they suppose God will simply throw the present world in the trash can and leave us in a totally different sphere altogether... On the other hand, some have so emphasized the continuity between the present world and the coming new world that they have imagined we can actually build the kingdom of God by our own hard work." (158)

This is certainly a refreshing perspective, standing in contrast to those peddled by individuals of other eschatological positions, such as premillennial futurism. Wright would argue that we are living in the period between the beginning of the kingdom of God and the final establishing thereof, and thus it is not befitting for Christians to neglect caring for the world.

He elaborates further: "We do not have to achieve what Jesus achieved; we cannot, and even to suppose that we might imitate him in that way would be to deny that he achieved what in fact he did. Rather—and this is absolutely crucial to understanding what is going on—our task is to implement his unique achievement. We are like the musicians called to play and sing the unique and once-only-written musical score. We don't have to write it again, but we have to play it." (158)

After developing this point for a while, Wright discusses of what exactly our present task consists. He claims, "Our task is now to build the house, to tend the garden, to play the score. The human race has been in exile; exiled from the garden, shut out of the house, bombarded with noise instead of music. Our task is to announce in deed and word that the exile is over, to enact the symbols that speak of healing and forgiveness, to act boldly in God's world in the power of the Spirit." (163)

One of Wright's points throughout this chapter is that it doesn't much matter whether your discipline is something like ministry or something like mathematics: "You are called, prayerfully, to discern where in your discipline the human project is showing signs of exile and humbly and boldly to act symbolically in ways that declare that the powers have been defeated, that the kingdom has come in Jesus the Jewish Messiah, that the new way of being human has been unveiled, and to be prepared to tell the story that explains what these symbols are all about." (164)

Wright argues that Christians should be at the forefront of solving world difficulties, giving some practical examples of what this might look like. This is a part of mending the world and declaring that the exile is over. I agree with him here as well. Christians shouldn't sit back and let others tackle these issues, hoping that Jesus will return soon and whisk us away from every current difficulty. Rather, if we truly believe that Jesus ended the exile and ushered in the kingdom of God, if we truly believe that we are to proclaim the Gospel not just in words but also in deeds, we need to roll up our sleeves and do the work ourselves.

"The gospel of Jesus points us and indeed urges us to be at the leading edge of the whole culture, articulating in story and music and art and philosophy and education and poetry and politics and theology and even, heaven help us, biblical studies, a worldview that will mount the historically rooted Christian challenge to both modernity and postmodernity, leading the way into the post-postmodern world with joy and humor and gentleness and good judgment and true wisdom." (171)

Conclusion

Though I had my disagreements with Wright, these were small, and in no way detracted from the overall quality of the work. It is worth reading slowly to comprehend the points that Wright is making.

Given the shortness of this book (around 200 pages) and the profound ideas developed therein, I would highly recommend it to all Christians interested in proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, especially those wondering what this looks like on a practical level.

Bertuzzi's Bizarre Rebuttal

Cameron Bertuzzi from Capturing Christianity recently posted a counter to Jerry Walls' argument against the papacy. I'd like to comment on it. Here is the post:

"One of, in not the, strongest arguments against the papacy comes from history. Dr. Jerry Walls has argued that four key historical sources (Ignatius of Antioch, Hermas, Clement of Rome, and Justin Martyr) don't mention a monarchical bishop residing in Rome.

Some Catholic Apologists respond to this objection by claiming that it amounts to an argument from silence--a kind of fallacious way of reasoning about history. Just because a historical source doesn't mention a particular event doesn't mean the event didn't happen. The problem with this response is that there are some conditions under which arguments from silence are perfectly acceptable. Namely, when we'd expect the authors in question to mention the data. And that seems precisely to be the case in the case of the previously mentioned sources. So the argument from silence response won't do.

Interestingly, a young PhD candidate, Joseph Blado, has argued that the proper response to the Wallsian argument is "skeptical papalism." He summarizes this view as follows: "I don’t think we are in the epistemic position to know from a historical standpoint if there was a special bishop in Rome who possessed such an ontological Papal status, and if early Church writers would write about it." In support of this thesis he argues, "The significance of being ‘the successor of Peter’ is completely obscure to the first century individual." In other words, the doctrine of the papacy is actually a pretty complex doctrine that we wouldn't expect to find explicitly explicated by any early source. He further argues that there are many potential historical documents, beyond the four that Walls draws on, that might point in the opposite direction. We're not in a position to know with much confidence that the documents we do have are representative of the documents there are. In the end, Blado concludes that, "One should conclude that it’s epistemically inscrutable to know from a historical standpoint if any individual in the first century Rome possessed such an authority, and if any individuals would be inclined to record anything about such a person. Hence, one should look to other sources to infer the truth value of the Papal doctrine."

What are your thoughts on this "skeptical papalism" approach to the historical argument against the papacy?"

Well, Cameron, I think it fails. It shows a few misunderstandings.

The problem here is the importance of the papacy to Catholicism. Indeed, it is central to the catholic faith. It appears Blado - and Cameron, by proxy - misunderstand the argument from silence. An argument from silence is valid when we would expect a topic to appear somewhere and it doesn't. I will use the assumption of Mary, another catholic doctrine, as a foil to highlight what I mean. The assumptions of Elijah, Enoch and Moses are discussed in early Christian literature (cf. 1 Clem. 9:3; Against Heresies 5:5, for example). Why not Mary? These sections of the writings would be the perfect opportunity to bring up the assumption of Mary, instead, we find silence on the matter. 

Blado's comment that being a successor to Peter would be "obscure to a first century reader," is, in my estimation, absurd. It would have not been obscure to a first-century Christian, given the fact that the papacy is the central doctrine of their faith! Also, it would be important to keep in mind that we are talking about "the rock" (Matthew 16:17-19) that Christ builds his church upon! Lest anyone be confused, I don't think that this verse implies anything like a papacy, I am responding to Catholics on their own grounds. 

Women Witnesses and the Historicity of the Empty Tomb Tradition

  In modern discourse pertaining to the historicity of the empty tomb of Jesus, the most frequently cited argument in favor the event is that the Markan version has women as the first witnesses to discover the missing body and the tomb’s vacancy. The reasoning abides as follows: women were considered to unreliable and untrustworthy witnesses in Judaism and the ancient world, and thus the incorporation of them as the chief witnesses to the empty tomb is more likely a historical memory rather than haggadic fiction. Some more moderate exegetes such as Dale Allison rank the oration as of the most persuasive for the likelihood of Christ’s empty tomb [1]. He is not alone. Many scholars who comment on this element of the narrative therefore hold that it is resoundingly unlikely that the women would be invented as the chief witnesses to the empty tomb.[2] Claudia Setzer states that, “Women's presence and testimony as witnesses to the empty tomb… seems an early and firmly entrenched piece of the tradition. Equally early and entrenched is the embarrassment around that fact..."[3] Craig Evans agrees, asserting, “It's hard to see why relatively unknown women would feature so prominently in such an important story if what we have here is fiction… [moreover it] stands in tension with resurrection expectations and supporting apologetics…" [4]

 

Like everything else in Biblical studies, pushback has ensured. Some scholars have countered this apologetic with their own critical vantages; this argument is perhaps methodologically flawed, misunderstands the Christian theological and social attitudes of the day, fails to take into account Mark’s writing style, and/or fails to account for Jewish practices of the time. 

While the criticisms are numerous, their intrinsic quantity has not made up for their overall quality. In this article I will discuss the most prevalent critiques I have seen of the Argument from Women Witnesses (AWW), concluding that the AWW still holds overall, and makes the empty tomb narrative to be more likely a primitive tradition rather than a wholesale Markan addition.

 

Methodology and the Criterion of Embarrassment 

 

The criterion of embarrassment was a method first explicitly employed by John Meir, who sought to reconstruct the life of Jesus [5]. Its initial premise is that one should acknowledge that historical bias in ancient authors, admitting that their perspective is often one of great prejudice against those who may report history in a less favorable light than theirs. Thus, if an author reports an event that is counteractive towards their cause or embarrassing to their presentation, it is unlikely to be invented by said author. Few would want to invent a detail that makes them look bad. 

 

This method is, like anything, not perfect. The criterion of authenticity has been criticized by a good number of scholars in the last several decades of New Testament academia, and for fair reason. We can use the same criteria and get different answers; a complete portrait of the historical Jesus is no more complete now than it was during the first two quests. 

 

It is, however, not necessarily the criteria that are the problem, but rather the ways in which they are incorporated. Epistemically it is quite rational to suppose that a truly embarrassing detail would be left out. The trickier part is actually establishing that such a fact is embarrassing to begin with. What may be shameful in one culture could be standard in another. If a religious leader does something that is embarrassing within that culture, it could still be the case that the followers of such a movement were not embarrassed by it, especially if the figure was counter-cultural in their message. Perhaps then we should establish subcriteria to further institute when the criteria of embarrassment is a warranted argument:

 

1. The detail in question is established to be embarrassing within the context that it occurred in

2. The detail is counteractive to how similar events are normally portrayed by the author

3. The author or witness to said detail expresses reluctance or discomfort in presenting it, or puts effort into downplaying its significance.

4. There are no other positive elements that could be derived from the detail; other potential benefits of including the detail do not transcend the detriment of embarrassment.

 

If applied correctly and carefully, embarrassment can be seen as raising the probability of the historicity of certain escapades within history. It is a useful tool for the historian. Though some may argue that New Testament studies is often quite liberal with its use (or in this case overuse) of the method, there are certainly plenty of other examples of the method being employed in secular history. The method has also been used to establish the historicity of events recounted by ancient authors like Josephus [7] and Apollodorus of Athens [8].

 

Given this method, I will be assessing the AWW in addressing the following questions:1) Would women witnesses to the empty tomb be considered embarrassing within the culture? 2) Did early Christians express discomfort and advertance to including this narrative? 3) Are there any literary, theological,  or historical reasons to include the story in light of its potential embarrassment?

 

I will address each of these points individually

 

 

1. Women, Testimony, and Embarrassment  

 

It is quite frequently noted that the testimony of women was not as favored as that of men within Jewish culture,[9] thus making the claim that women found the tomb less trustworthy within first century Antiquity. A woman acting as a witness, while allowed under some conditions, was typically not ideal and almost always inferior to that of a man.[10] Jewish women, generally speaking, were not allowed to be witnesses in a court of law, although there were occasional exemptions if the matter pertained to women's issues  (such as her marital status, virginity, mensuration etc.) or if her husband was deceased and/or no male witness was available to give testimony. Sometimes women could be  "admitted as competent witnesses in matters within their particular knowledge."[11] Therefore, while there were times in which women could testify, these were seen as exceptions to the rule rather than the general standard. This was because women's testimony was seen as questionable.[12]

 

Most cited on this matter is the Jewish historian Josephus, who wrote that women should not give testimony due to them having being generally unfit as witnesses, "But let not the testimony of women be admitted, on account of the levity and boldness of their sex"[13] This seems to be one of many Jewish texts prohibiting the general admittance of women in court; the Mishnah states that under most circumstances, testimony should be given by men, "The oath of testimony is conducted with men and not women". [14] The Talmud asserts  that, "This is the general principle: all evidence that a woman is not eligible to give, these also are not eligible to bring."[15]Jewish laws lists 10 groups of people who are not considered "competent" to be reliable witnesses, one of which was women. [16] Passages in the Babylonian Talmud debated whether two female witnesses were superior to a single male witness; some Rabbis argued that two women were to be believed over one man, others stated two women were equal to one man (essentially rendering women's testimony as worth half of a man's), and some even suggested that even 100 female witnesses was inferior to a single male wintess.[16b] All scenarios establish that indeed in most cases a woman's testimony was inferior to that of a man. Tirzah Meacham writes that, within Judaism, [17] 

  

"A particularly painful issue of difference between males and females is that of reliability in testimony...This classification of women as being unreliable witnesses is part of the negative cycle in which women are not obligated to learn (and according to some are forbidden to learn) and therefore do not develop their minds and analytic thinking processes. It is fed by a negative view of women’s intelligence because they are considered to have frivolous minds  in a very similar manner to Hellenistic ideas of education and intellectual development versus the untrained minds of the barbarians, who include women, slaves and children."

  

If both a man and a woman were making legal accusations against an individual, the woman's case would be judged first due to embarrassment.[18] Women at the time were considered to be intellectually inferior to men, and thus their testimony was rejected in the majority of cases, unless they were testifying to female-related issues. While the empty tomb narrative is not applicable to a Jewish legal court, the cultural stigma against women testimony make it unlikely that their witnessing of the empty tomb would have been viewed favorably. 

 

Some have disputed the claim that the testimony of women was in fact questionable, and argue that, as an example to the contrary,  Josephus used women witnesses to gain information.[19] This can be seen in cases such as the slaughter at Gamala and Masada [20]. However, in that particular instance,  Josephus was using  women precisely because there were no male witnesses alive who had survived the slaughter (only two women and three children survived in the case of Masada). He was merely using the only witnesses that were available. Most scholars feel as if Mark is in the same predicament: he incorporated women because they were the actual witnesses to the empty tomb. At the very least, women's testimony was far more regulated than that of an average man. If  Mark invented the empty tomb narrative out of whole cloth, and had the choice between having women or men discover the grave, surely it would be much less risky to have men discover the tomb. 

 

Therefore, the background data implies that, in broad terms, the testimony of women was considered generally unreliable. Including women as the primary witnesses over men would, at least prima facie, lead to less believability to a Jewish audience.

 

Hence we move on to the second point: did Christians share in this embarrassment when incorporating the women in their narratives?

 

II. Christian Discomfort Towards the Women Witnesses

 

It is undeniable that women seemed to play a rather pivotal role in the early Christian church. Paul mentions women as having important roles within the church as listed in Romans 16, and women such as Mary Magdalene seems to act as one of the non-apostolic disciples of of Christ’s ministry. Jesus likewise seems to break cultural norms in his positive interaction with the sick bleeding woman of Mark 5 ,the woman who anointed Him in Mark 14, and the Samaritan woman of John 4. Even if Jews were, generally speaking, misoginistic in their cultural attitudes towards women, perhaps Christians transcended these biases. If Christians were willing to be progressive towards women’s rights in the context of that time, they may not have been embarrassed to have them as witnesses. Hence, a story about an empty tomb with women at the hull of the narrative would not bother most of the Christian audience. [21]

 

While this argument raises some stringent points, it is not inherently successful in light of all of the data. Though women did have roles in the church, these seem to have always been in conjunction with men. Roles in which women were given full control, with no supervision or submission to men’s roles, is not to my knowledge a trend that was present in the first centuries of Christianity.

Even in cases where a woman's testimony is believed, it is in the context of other men being present. Take for instance the case of the woman at the well in John 4. The Samaritan women's testimony is apparently believed (Jn. 4:39), but it is only accepted after men verify her story for themselves (Jn. 4:42) and the story implies that there is some discomfort in having Jesus talk with a woman in public (Jn. 4:27). This motif, which is repeated throughout the New Testament, has patriarchal underlyings. According to Lk. 24:11 even the Christians do not accept the women’s claims "But they did not believe the women [about the empty tomb], because their words seemed to them like nonsense". (Lk 24:11). Perhaps this is not because the women are the witnesses to the event, but rather because the event is too incredible to believe. This is an improbable exegesis, for virtually the same message is given to the disciples later on by a man named Cleopas, although this time no doubt is expressed by the apostles. (Lk. 24:33-35). Luke claims that there were at minimum four witnesses to the empty tomb originally, all of which were women, but no credence is given to the claim until the male disciples investigate. It is not then an issue of the quantity of witnesses, but the quality. Why is this? Perhaps, even among Christians, the extraordinary claims seemed like “nonsense” (Lk. 24:11) because they were categorically similar to the “irrelevant, silly myths and old wives tales” (1 Tim. 4:7) propounded by “ weak women” (2 Tim. 3:6). The disciples were not perfect after all, still seeming to exhibit prejudice against their Gentile brethren (Gal. 2:11-14). Is it surprising they may still unintentionally project these socially-discriminatory scars towards the women in their congregation, even if it is merely subconsciously?

 

This incident in Luke bears starking similarities to Jewish texts of the time; it was common to bolster up a women’s role with the additional testimony of a males witness. In these cases women are not believed, and the same event is later repeated by a man who is believed. In Pseudo-Philo, a work which may have been composed around the second half of the first century, Miriam (the sister of Moses) tells her parents about a dream she had that prophesied her brother's deliverance of Israel. She is not believed even by her own family. The historian Josephus later reports this same story, although in his version it is the father of Moses who had the dream, not Miriam. He is believed by his family. Despite the two versions being virtually identical, having a woman testify to such a remarkable event was apparently seen as less believable. A similar situation is presented in Pseudo-Philo's presentation of the birth of Samson. Samson's soon-to-be mother Manoah receives a message from an angel that she will have a son. When she tells her husband, he disbelieves her and gets upset that God would give such a revelation to his wife but not to him. Both of these examples imply that divine revelation was (at least generally) not favorable when provided by women, at least not when it could otherwise be given by a man. [22]

 

The women’s role in their discovery of the tomb is more analogous to the Pseudo-Philo narrative than the female position detailed in the Gospels. It is not the use of women in Mark 16 that is problematic, but rather the fact that it is only women. Excluding the “young man” dressed in white, who is clearly an angel meant to give primitive kerygma to his female audience, the women are the only witnesses we have. Unlike the female roles in the early church, here there are no men to keep the “weak” minds of the women in check. Male Christians, even if not explicitly stated, acted as the training wheels to the proverbial bikes of the church, the bumpers to its gutters, the guardrails to its ledge. They were given opportunity, but not such that their judgment was seen as competent enough on its own. 

 

This is evidenced by the fact that other versions of the Christian story deny women as the sole witnesses of the tomb. For example, the Gospels of Matthew, Luke, and John (all written after Mark) have men present at the tomb along with the women. Matthew's account claims that there were Roman guards in front of Jesus's tomb at the time of the women's arrival, who witness the angel rolling away the stone in front of the Sepulcher.  Luke and John's Gospels both mention that male disciples (Peter and John) accompany the women to see the empty tomb, after first hearing that it was found vacant (Lk. 24:12, Jn. 20:1-8). Luke adds the character of Cleopas to act as a witness alongside the women. (Lk. 24:33-35). While there are still good reasons to presume that the men’s visit to the tomb is historical [23], it is nonetheless undoubtedly more pronounced and emphatic in the later traditions. 

 

Later Gnostic Christians expressed similar discontent with this detail. The apocryphal Gospel of Peter goes even further to include male witnesses, having a crowd of Jews gather around Jesus's tomb to witness the resurrection, which is seen directly by them and the Roman centurions. They then run off to tell Pilate what they have seen and the women show up later on to find the tomb empty. Another late text known as the Epistula Apostolorum repeatedly states that the women are not believed by the disciples.[24] The Gospel of Mary builds off Matthew’s appearance to Mary Magdalene, but expresses doubt by the disciples that a woman could receive authoritative vision of the divine, "Did He really speak privately with a woman and not openly to us? Are we to turn about and all listen to her? Did He prefer her to us?" (9:4). 

 

All of these later incarnations of the narrative demote the women as secondary witnesses rather then the sole witnesses, of which the role is given to the male disciples, the Roman guards, or the Jewish crowd. This element would be expected within a posterior and legendary account, which the Pre-Markan passion story lacks.  Therefore, if the trajectory of the later resurrection traditions is to add men (especially Peter) into the story and to bowdlerize the presence of the women witnesses, then it does not seem likely that the Church desired to emphasize the women’s role in the resurrection narratives.[25] This feature should naturally incline commentators to concur with the judgement of David L. Turner, ”The fact that women are the first witnesses to the resurrection is unusual and adds a ring of truth.” [26]

 

Historically, Christians in the centuries following the religion’s genesis did not double down and defend the women’s role (“women are not incompetent but are just as equal to men.”). Rather, the followers of Christ played defense against such polemics from skeptics by acknowledging that it was somewhat embarrassing. The 16th century theologian John Calvin acknowledged this discomfort, and rationalized that God was punishing the male disciples for abandoning Jesus, and so He gave the role of witness to the witness. He then compares this incident to 1 Cor 3:18, where Paul says that we must become like fools to humble the wise; Calvin writes that, [27]

  

 "He began with the women, and not only presented himself to be seen by them, but even gave them a commission to announce the gospel to the apostles, so as to become their instructors. This was intended, first, to chastise the indifference of the apostles,.... In this manner also he exhibited an instance of what Paul tells us, that he chooses those things which are foolish and weak in the world to abase the loftiness of the flesh. And never shall we be duly prepared to learn this article of our faith in any other manner than by laying aside all pride, and submitting to receive the testimony of the women. Not that our faith ought to be confined within such narrow limits, but because the Lord, in order to make trial of our faith, determines that we shall become fools, before he admits us to a more ample knowledge of his mysteries."

  

While Calvin thought of this as a justification for using women as witnesses, he still implies the issue that Christians had with the story: women were "fools"  whose testimony required men to "lay down their pride". This is hardly a ringing endorsement for feminism. 

 

Along with notable Christian discomfort, the empty tomb story was later exploited by critics of Christianity, such as Celsus, who writes off the resurrection of Jesus in part because it is attested to by women, "[Celsus] asks, 'Who beheld this?' And discrediting the narrative of Mary Magdalene, who is related to have seen Him, he replies, 'A half-frantic woman, as you state.'” [28] He then goes on to claim that only the ignorant and uneducated could believe Chrisitan claims, among whom are women,[28b]

Let no one come to [Christianity] who has been instructed, or who is wise or prudent… if there be any ignorant, or unintelligent, or uninstructed, or foolish persons, let them [convert to Christianity] with confidence. By which words, acknowledging that such individuals are worthy of their God, they manifestly show that they desire and are able to gain over only the silly, and the mean, and the stupid, with women and children.” 

Pliny the Younger, who interrogated Christian women in order to extract information form them, claims that their testimony was "nothing else but depraved, excessive superstition."[29] These ancient authors are not alone here; even as recent as the 18th century, critics of the resurrection continued to use the witness of the women as an argument against the credibility of the story: resurrection was merely a legend  that was nothing more  than, in their words, "womanish fables".[30] Others critics of the Enlightenment mocked at the idea as well, “But to whom did he show himself? To women…[having] weak minds and ardent imaginations, disposed to form phantoms and chimeras”. [31] It was not until the mid 19th century that the criterion of embarrassment regarding the women was used in the apologist’s favor; historically it was always a rhetorical weapon for the polemicist. If Christians really weren’t embarrassed by the women’s role in the resurrection, such progressivity is found nowhere in the history of Christian apologetics prior to the 1800s. 

It could be argued that this argument is hindered if the historicity of other men at the tomb (the Matthean soldiers, the male apostles, etc.) is granted, for a tradition that included men in accompainentment with women from the very beginning would not be overly problematic as an apologetic. However, it is not just the fact that the witnesses ot the empty tomb and resurrection are women, but that they are the first and chief witnesses to the event. The later Gospels, despite including men who later back up the women's story, nevertheless have them follow the lead of the females' vantage. It is the women who see the angels, and in two of the Gospels they are the first witnesses of the risen Jesus, overtaking the Pauline and Markan traditions of Peter being the primary witness of Christ. This itself is risky; Judaism knew of stories of women not only being gullible and credulous to fantastic events, but likewise taking on the role as the decievers of men. Eve in the Book of Genesis is tricked by the serpant into eating the cursed fruit, resulting in Eve then getting Adam to commit a similar sin (cf. 1 Tim. 2:14, reflecting a similar Christian sentiment). Women, in their ignorance, may lead men astray to believe foolish things, providing more reason for their general inadmittence in a court of law, [31b]

"Since Eve, women have often been portrayed as crafty tricksters, fooling innocent

men. Christian theology especially promulgated this idea, as it often portrayed

women as seductive and deceiving. They based this conception partially on

the Christian interpretation of the Adam and Eve story, in which Eve is the

main deceiver in the story, not the snake. This idea even extended to the idea

of women being witches, fooling men with their powers and lies. Perhaps the

Jewish ban in the courts was a precursor to the Christian view, and simply

reflected popular sentiment that women could not be trusted, along with

gamblers and usurers."

 

 

Not to mention that, even if the male witnesses give credibility to the women's discovery, it still remains contingent on verifying the accuracy of the women's testimony in regards to the location of the tomb. With the exception of Joseph and his servants, who as far as we know weren't readily available to the apostles for questioning, the women are the only witnesses to the internment of Jeuss (Mk. 15:47). This means that even given the historicity of the disciple's visit to the tomb, one can only put so much confident in the location's validity in as much as the women's judgement is trusted. Had the women mistakenly identified the wrong tomb, then the later visit to the same tomb by the male disciples does little apologetic favor.

Apologetically it would be most adventageous to exclude the women altogether for this reason; if they must be included, the authors of the New Testament would have bettered from taking the Gospel of Peter's approach, purging the women to secondary roles and only witnessing what the men have already concerned. A story in which women see angels and a zombified carpenter, whose testimony causes the male disciples to begin to see similar supernatural wonders, would come off to a Jewish audience as yet futher proof that hysterical women not only beleive such myths but likewise spread their hysteria to men. Critics of the faith saw such delusions as the result of "some one having so dreamed owing to a peculiar state of mind" under the "influence of a perverted imagination". And to whom were such childish thoughts rendered? First to the women, followed by the men who were gullible enough to believe them,  "Who beheld [the resurrecton]?...A half-frantic woman...[then] some one else of those engaged in the same system of deception."[31c] 

In summary, there are many lines of evidence point to the hypothesis that Christians were uncomfortable with the Markan story of the women being the sole witnesses to the tomb. Therefore the notion that Christians would not have been at all uncomfortable with women in the story should be abandoned. 

 

Let us then move on to the final horn of the argument: even if it is granted that the use of women was embarrassing, are there other reasons (other than pure historical reportage) for incorporating them into the narrative? Are there aesthetic, theological, narrative, or literary benefits that could be gained by their inclusion that would be worth the embarrassment? I will assess some potential responses below.

 

III. Arguments for Mark’s Inclusion of Female Witnesses

 

The Male Disciples Fled 

 

The Gospels report that during the arrest of Christ, the disciples abandoned Him in fear of being killed. This is, presumably, why the twelve are not said to be present during the crucifixion (being seen in public could lead to potential arrest). Thus, Mark has the women take on the role of witnessing the crucifixion and burial. Mk. 15:47 states that “Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid”, their role in finding the tomb empty in the succeeding chapter is hardly surprising. Who else besides the women (or Joseph) could have visited the tomb if they were the only ones who knew of its location? Mark is forced to invent the women as witnesses because a narrative with male disciples would contradict his earlier assertion that no men were present. [32]

 

This response wanes, with the reasons being threefold. Firstly, it is not clear that the male disciples are actually absent from the Passion narrative post-Christ’s arrest. The denial of Jesus by Peter seems to take place within the courtyard of the Sanhedrin members’ homes (Mk. 14:66). Luke and John seem to presuppose that the disciples are still in Jerusalem on Easter, being close enough to visit the tomb for themselves. John also states that the beloved disciple is present at the crucifixion in Jn. 19: 26-27. The initial premise of this argument is thus question-begging from the get-go: the reasons for supposing that the disciples were not in Jerusalem on Easter are tentative at best and spurious at worst.  

 

Second, this objection presents Mark as an author who is quite inconsistent with his convictions regarding historically accurate reportage and Christian apologetic fiction. If Mark is willing to fabricate a narrative to explain the lack of the male disciples, why would he bother reporting the fleeing of the twelve to begin with? Mark could have instead had the disciples stick with Jesus, watching the crucifixion from afar as they hid within the crowd. This would provide ample opportunity for Peter and the others to strategize with how they would visit the tomb in secret to mourn their best friend. Inventing a counter to explain away a problematic detail is overly-complicated; one could just as easily change the story to avoid such issues in the first place.  

 

A final note. Even if Mark needs to devise characters to fill in the vacancy of the disciples in witnessing the burial and empty grave, why such a role needs to be filled by men escapes me. The idea that the crucifixion and burial of Jesus were witnessed by a select few is unlikely; crucifixions were public executions for a reason. Luke 24:18 and Acts 26:26 are probably right in saying that these things were well-known in the oral tradition of the Jerusalem community, with gossip and interest spreading very quickly. It is not as if Mark is forced to incorporate the women as witnesses to the crucifixion and burial for lack of other alternatives; he could have made anyone in the crowd a witness if he desired. The Gospel of Peter, in its incorporation of a Roman legion and a crowd of Jews at the foot of Jesus’s tomb, proves that any number of fictions could easily be created as a stand-in for the disciples. [33]

 

Courtroom Procedures Are Not Applicable to the Gospels 

 

Some contend that the Jewish legal proceedings regarding the testimony of women are not ultimately relevant to the resurrection narratives found within the Gospels, because the documents of the New Testament are obviously not court proceedings. Attitudes and behaviors of groups do not always translate well from the formality of a courtroom to the practicality of everyday life. The testimony we give and receive in our day-to-day escapades do not need to hold to the stringent criteria that would be used in, say, a murder trial; there is no reason to think of the ancient world as any different. The stakes are so much lower. 

 

This point is granted: it is true that the proceedings of a courtroom need not be applicable to the pragmatism of daily routine. The question is not whether the court rules are applicable here, but rather why such attitudes and prejudices existed to begin with. One cannot merely cite Josephus’s sentiment about the rejection of women’s testimony, without following it with his explanation: women are bad witnesses because they have “levity and boldness” as a direct result of “their sex”. This is not just a feature that appears is legal proceedings; women will have these characteristics whether in or out of the courtroom.[34] Women were considered untrustworthy because, in the eyes of 1st century Israel and much of the ancient world, they were simple minded. Women were perceived as uneducated, gullible, easily deceived, overly credulous, primitive, stupid, naïve, forgetful, and foolish. Celsus, in a non-legal context, discusses how the intelligence and discernment of women is comparable to “the silly, and the mean, and the stupid,...and children” [35]. Philo of Alexandria is perhaps even more biting in his description of the female character, stating that rationality was an inherently masculine trait while femininity produced irrationality, [36]

  

"...the elements of which our soul consists are two in number, the rational and the irrational part, the rational part belongs to the male sex, being the inheritance of intellect and reason; but the irrational part belongs to the sex of woman, which is the lot also of the outward senses. And the mind is in every respect superior to the outward sense, as the man is to the woman"

 

Women were perceived as being fundamentally irrational, hence why their testimony (especially of extraordinary events) should be viewed as especially suspect. 

It is, then, not the fact that Jewish legal procedures restricted women that led to distrust in females in general; it is the other way around. Women were not trusted in court precisely because their judgment was considered bad even in everyday settings.   

 

 Woman May Have Started the Tradition 

 

Bart Ehrman has suggested that Christians circulated a story of women finding the tomb because it is possible that the story could have originated among female circles in the church.[37]  Maybe Mary Magdalene or one her companions were the first to invent the story, with the tale spreading like wildfire until it befell Mark’s ears 40 years later. Unlike men, the disciples of Christ who lacked a Y Chromosome would have not shared these same prejudices as their male counterparts.

 

This only pushes the problem back by one line of tradition. If Acts is to be granted, it may be the case that even a group of women would not buy an outlandish story told by another woman (Acts 12: 1-17). Nor is it clear how a story originated by women were survive unchanged by misogynistic members of the church who may find the narrative unhelpful in evangelism and apologetics. If the women could not successfully pass on their testimony to the male disciples in Luke 24:11, there is no reason to suppose that they would fare much better with any of the other communities of the church. The apostles were apparently concerned with monitoring what was being taught (Gal. 1:2) and Paul constantly warns against false teachings within the Church, including correcting misconceptions regarding theological issues like circumcision, communion, and the resurrection. Even if the story started with men, it could hardly survive in that form by the time it was passed onto the male authors of the Gospels.

  

  

Women Traditionally Performed Burial Rites 

 

Many contend that the presence of women is not all that unusual due to the fact that funerary preparations were chiefly performed by women. Asking why Mark would have women visit the tomb would be the equivalent of asking why a chef would step inside a restaurant: their societal roles necessitate it. If anything, having men be the first observers of the vacant Sepulcher would be a harder story to sell to a Jewish audience.  

 

This objection is contingent on a misunderstanding of Jewish funerary practices and the role of gender within the ceremonial elements of burial and mourning. While it is true that a female corpse was typically prepared by women (though sometimes a husband could prepare his wife’s body, cf. Gen. 23:19), Semitic law states that a male corpse can be devised for its funeral by either gender, “A man may shroud and gird the corpse of a man, but not that of a woman. A woman may shroud and gird the corpse of a man or of a woman."[38] It was customary for a Jewish man to be buried by his sons afterall, and there are countless examples in the Torah and New Testament where a man’s corpse is both prepared and buried by other men, 

• Abraham is buried by his sons, Isaac and Ismael (Gen. 25:9) 

• Isaac is buried by Jacob and Esau (Gen. 35:29) 

• Jacob is buried by his sons and by “his people” (Gen. 49:33) 

• The Gospels mention that it was the son’s role to bury his deceased father (Matt. 8:22, Lk. 9:59-60). 

• John the Baptist is buried by his disciples, which were very likely men (Matt. 14:12) 

• Stephen is buried by “godly men” after his martyrdom (Acts 8:2) 

• Ananias and Sapphira are entombed by a group of “young men”, though this is technically a dishonorable burial (Acts 5:6, 10)

 

Let us not forget that it is Joseph of Arimathea, not the women, who prepares the body of Christ in the Gospels. Nicodemus is also said to participate in Jn. 19:39-42. Though the band of females view the process from afar, there is no implication of their attempts to assist Joseph in laying Jesus to rest. If the Gospels had no issue presenting Jesus as being primarily entombed by a Sanhedrin member, and Jewish law and tradition shows precedence for men taking active roles in funeral customs, then there is no real reason why an invented narrative would necessarily include women as the sole witnesses to the empty tomb. This is not to say that women served didn’t serve important roles in reciting eulogies and other rites during funerals (though even here women were sometimes segregated from men during funerals), but it does not follow that one should expect an apologetic narrative to invent women as primary witnesses solely because cultural institutions demanded it. A male dominated burial and empty tomb tradition, with women either in the foreground or absent entirely, would not raise many eyebrows. 

 

Literary and Theological Motifs 

 

Mark’s Gospel seems to be emphatic on the idea that Jesus is not understood by those closest to Him. The disciples seem to constantly be unaware of Jesus’s powers, lack understanding of His teaching, and abandon Him in times of crisis. It is, ironically, only the outsiders who seem to comprehend who Jesus really is. The disciples abandon Jesus in fear, while it is the Pharisees who are left to bury Him. Simon Peter, in claiming to be willing to die for Jesus (Mk. 14:26-31) and to take up His cross (Mk. 8:34), denies Him in the face of persecution; to contrast, it is a different Simon (Simon of Cyrene) who ends up literally taking up Jesus’s cross (Mk. 15:21). Though the Jews and the twelve seem to fail to understand who Christ is, it is the Roman soldier in Mark’s Gospel who is the first to realize the Nazarene’s true identity, “Surely, this man was the Son of God!” (Mk. 15:39). The disciples ask to be placed at the left and right side of Jesus (Mk. 10:37), whereas Jesus ends up being crucified between two thieves. The Markan Gospel loves to play with irony and the reversal of expectation. 

 

Given this motif, Mark’s use of women in Mark 16:1-8 might be deliberate for this reason. Having the disciples find the tomb empty would be counterintuitive to Mark’s theological end goals established throughout the rest of his Gospel, and so it is only logical that he plays into the reversal of expectation. Those who stay with Jesus and witness the tomb are not the privileged men, but the disenfranchised women . Just as the Gentiles are the first to proclaim Jesus’s divinity, Mark has the women be the initial proclaimers of the Gospel. Indeed, “given Mark’s narrative agenda, regardless of the actual facts… having women first at the tomb is exactly what Mark would invent, to carry through the gospel message that the least shall be first.” [39]

 

This is the most weighty objection, and it is not without some force. Yet, there are many reasons to find this argument waning in relation to Mark 16. If it is the case that the women do not succeed in envincing the message of the resurrection but instead keep silent out of fear (Mk. 16:8), then this hardly presents them in a positive light; they do not succeed in their mission, but fumble their ball early on in the game. This seems counter to the whole point of the meek and lowly succeeding where the elite fail. On the other hand, if the more plausible interpretation of Mark 16:8 hold true and the silence of the women is only meant to be temporary on their way back to Galilee (compare the leper’s short term quelling on his way to the priest in Mk. 1:44), then this is not intrinsically an upholding of disenfranchised (the women) but rather a passing-of-the-torch to the disciples. The women are meant to tell the disciples of the resurrection so that the latter can have the privilege to see Him raised in glory. Given that Mark obviously anticipates Peter and the other apostles having a Christophany in Galilee, and that the appearance ended up convincing the twelve of Jesus’s divinity and resurrection (1 Cor 15:5, a tradition Mark certainly would have been familiar with), this does not fit nicely with Mark’s overall theme. It seems that the story does in fact end with the disciples coming to understand Jesus as the raised Messiah, and therefore the previous cycle of Markan misunderstanding is now liberated from its literary chains. 

 

There is a graver problem with this thesis. Even if it were granted that Mark 16 were to continue the theme of misapprehension and misjudgement on the part of the disciples, it does not follow that Mark must have women fill this role. He could write in any number of characters to fulfill this literary purpose. One can not fail to conceive of any number of possibilities. While Jewish women were certainly not equal with their male counterparts, they were by no means the only ones who were socially incapacitated. 

 

Imagine the following spiel: Simon of Cyrene, accompanied by his sons Alexander and Rufus, continues to watch on as the Romans infantry remove the cross from his back and proceed to nail Jesus onto it. The trio could not fail to continue to look on to this gruesome site. They are part of the crowd that watch Christ cry out His last words, and observe as Joseph takes the body down and places it in a nearby tomb. After the Sabbath, curiosity and street Gossip revolving around the execution of a revered rabbi and Messianic figure overtakes Simon, and he and his sons visit the tomb to venerate it, only to discover it empty. The rest, they say, is history. Here we have a group of Gentiles playing a pivotal role in both the Passion and resurrection narratives, succeeding where the disciples failed. Mark’s literary goal here is satisfied without needing to use women.  

 

More can be said. Mark could have had a Roman soldier, perhaps the same one who recognized Jesus’s true identity in Mk. 15:39, visit the tomb Sunday morning to express his newfound conviction and conversion. This would certainly counter expectations, and would fit the general theme of soldiers witnessing the empty tomb in Matthew 28 and the Gospel of Peter.  Maybe Jairus from Mark 5:21-43 could have visited Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb to pay his respects to the rabbi who had raised his daughter from the dead. Mark, in the same vein as Luke 24:13-35, could have introduced a brand new and previously unmentioned character into the narrative to serve as a deus ex machina for the resurrection, as he did with Joseph of Arimathea in the previous chapter.  

 

Or what of the countless paralytic, leper, blind, deaf, and mute Israelites healed by Jesus early on in His ministry? Or those who had been exorcized and freed from demonic possession? Surely they could visit the tomb to pay their respects. It is not hard to imagine, say, the crippled man in Mark 2:1-12 holding on to his faith in Jesus despite everyone else in Jerusalem rejecting Him as a failed Messiah. He with his friends could have been heartbroken to see Jesus crucified, eager to mourn and honor the great teacher at his burial site. Given Jesus’s affiliation of how the poor and the meek will inherit the Kingdom of God, having such characters be the first to see the missing body of Christ makes sense. Though they were a low rung in the ladder of the Jewish caste system, there is nothing in Judaism that bars a poor, sick, or middle class man from giving testimony, so long as he is 1) not a slave, 2) does not have a dishonest occupation, 3) is not a direct family member of the accused, and 4) is physically able and mentally competent to witness an event and verbally give testimony. Even the discernment of a sick, impoverished individual or a Gentile would still be considered superior to the judgment of a woman.[40] 

 

If we are to grant that Mark has two goals in mind in crafting his final chapter, 1) to follow through with his motif of “the last being first” and 2) to convince the reader of the truth of the resurrection, then all of these aforementioned scenarios fulfill both criteria quite swimmingly. Incorporating Mary Magdalene and her gaggle of female witnesses, on the other hand, may fit the former goal but be counteractive in the latter. If Mark here is concerned not with history but with apologetics, then this decision is extremely risky, especially in light of innumerable alternatives that would have sufficed just as well.  Men could have fulfilled this literary theme all the same without the potential embarrassment.   

 

Conclusion

 

I have argued that the criterion of embarrassment, if applied appropriately and carefully, can be a sufficient method for assessing the historicity of certain events. Mark’s account of the women at the tomb checks off all of our epistemic boxes: the detail is culturally counteractive, Christians expressed discomfort regarding the narrative and witnessed it hampering their apologetic intents, and the proposals for alternative motives for its incorporation fail to persuade. 

It is for this reason that a great deal of critical scholars see the use of women as one of the best arguments for the reliability of the empty tomb story.[41] For example, the German scholar Raymund Schwager claims that  the majority of  New Testament historians usually give a positive assessment to the aspect of women finding the tomb empty on Sunday morning, and therefore regard it as genuine.[42] This embarrassing detail in the Pre-Markan passion narrative gives good credence to affirming its basic historicity, at least regarding the core of the story. Non scholars who are nonetheless critical of Christianity have also seen this argument as forceful; the prominent atheist Christopher Hitchens  admits that the witness of the women at the tomb is remarkable for that time period (although he does deny the historicity of the resurrection account)He states, "What religion that wants its fabrication to be believed is going to say, 'You've got to believe it, because we have some illiterate, hysterical girls who said they saw this'?"[43]

In assessing the data presented from both sides, I am inclined to find those arriving at the conservative conclusion to be of more weight. I find myself agreeing with Geza Vermes’s deduction, "When every argument has been considered and weighed, the only conclusion acceptable to the historian must be that ... the women who set out to pay their last respects to Jesus found to their consternation, not a body, but an empty tomb". [44]

 

References

 

[1] Allison Jr, Dale C. The Resurrection of Jesus: Apologetics, Polemics, History. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2021. See especially Chapter 8.

[2] Osiek, Carolyn. "The Women at the Tomb: What are They Doing There?." HTS Teologiese Studies/Theological Studies 53, no. 1/2 (1997): 103-118.

[3] Setzer, Claudia. "Excellent women: Female witness to the resurrection." Journal of Biblical Literature 116, no. 2 (1997): 259-272.

[4] Evans, Craig. "Jewish Burial Traditions and the Resurrection of Jesus." Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus 3, no. 2 (2005): 233-248.

[5] John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus, Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library, Vol. 1, 1991.

[7] Goodman, Martin. Rome and Jerusalem: the Clash of Ancient Civilizations. Vintage, 2008. On pg. 6 he is discussing Josephus’s implementation of embarrassing details, specifically those that contradict or are inconsistent with values he seems to defend elsewhere.

[8] Pelling, Christopher. Literary Texts and the Greek Historian. Routledge, 2002. esp. pg. 74-77. Apollodorus sometimes omits details that would otherwise counteract the agenda he was pushing forward.

[9] See J Sot 19a; B Kidd 82b, and M Rosh Ha-Shanah 1.8.

[10] Goulder, Michael. "The Empty Tomb." Theology 79, no. 670 (1976): 206-214.

[11] Meacham, Tirzah. "Legal-Religious Status of the Jewish Female." Jewish Women’s Archive.(2016).

[12]  See Fuchs, Ilan. "Women's Testimony in Jewish Law: A Historical Survey." Hebrew Union College Annual 82 (2012): 119-159 for a more broad overview of the regulations for Jewish female witnesses.

[13] Josephus, Antiquity of the Jews. 4.8.15

[14] Mishnah Shevuot 4:1

[15] Talmud, Rosh Hashana 1.8c

[16] See Yad, Edut 9:1. Others ineligible to witness include minors, slaves/servants, the mentally ill, blind or mute people (because they can't witness or can't say what they have witnessed), immediate relatives, and people with dishonest occupations.

[16b] Babylonian Talmub Sotah 31b.

[17] Meacham, “Legal-Religious Status of the Jewish Female.”

[18] Ramban, Sanhedrin 21:6; Shulhan Arukh H.M. 15:2

[19] Carrier, Richard. Not The Impossible Faith. Lulu. com, 2009.See also Carrier’s response to NT Wright,N.T. Wright Demonstrates the Bankruptcy of Christian Apologetics in Under Nine Minutes • Richard Carrier. Besides his bombastic tone, Carrier seems surprised that NT Wright was unable to respond to every single point raised in his book, a strange attack considering Wright addressed only Carrier’s work in passing on a podcast. 

[20] Josephus, Jewish War. 4.81 and 7.399

[21] Ahmad, Ijaz. "The Criterion of Embarrassment and the Women of Luke." Academia, n.d.

[22] Buckham, Richard. Gospel Women: Studies of the Named Women in the Gospels. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2002. Pg. 272-273.

[23] Despite the often cited discrepancies, there are here many fascinating details that are subtle enough to be hints of witness reportage. Though all of the Gospels give different lists of women who arrive at the tomb, Luke’s mention of “some others” in 24:10 implies that the Gospels are not giving an exhaustive ordering. John seemingly breaks the pattern of the Synoptics, which all mention many women going to the tomb, by only narrating Mary Magdalene arriving at the tomb. There is no mention of the other female disciples seeing either the tomb or the risen Jesus in the Johannine account. Yet, despite John not clearly bringing up other women present, it is implied in the word’s of Mary Magdalene to the disciples, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they put Him!” (Jn. 20:2). In isolation, Mary’s use of the plural makes little sense; the Gospel of John alone does not explain this use of the plural verbage. It is only when one reads the Synoptics that the statement in John makes sense: Mary was not acting alone.A very similar alignment is seen with the male disciples visiting the tomb in Luke and John. In Luke, the women tell Peter about the missing body, and the disciple runs to the grave for investigation. Later on in the same chapter, Cleopas implies that multiple disciples, not just Peter visited the tomb, “Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.” The Greek denotation of τινες τῶν and εἶδον is clearly in the plural; Cleopas suggests that multiple people visited the tomb after the women, but Luke only bothers to mention Peter. Why then do Cleopas’s words seem to suggest more than one disciple accompanying Peter? John’s Gospel explains this: in John 20 both Peter and the “beloved disciple” run to the tomb together after listening to Mary Magdalene,  with the latter outpacing the former. John mentions two disciples rather than one. This gives clearance to Cleopas’s statement in Luke, and Luke seems to have other disciples in mind without explicitly stating that they went along with Peter to the tomb. John likewise makes no mention of Cleopas or his statement, and so it is far from obvious that this was intentional redacted clarification on John’s part. Luke mentions the Cleopan statement but does not narrate its implications, and John narrates its implications without mentioning the statement. These are two pieces that fit nicely into the broader puzzle.

[24] Setzer, "Excellent Women." 266.

[25] Furthermore, it is notable that the creed in Pre-Pauline creed 1 Corinthians 15 leaves out the women as primary witnesses, only referring to them as "brothers and sisters of the Lord", in accordance to other men. Mary Magdalene is not specifically named, despite others such as Peter, James etc. being mentioned directly. This has led many scholars to infer that the women may have intentionally been left out of the creed in order to avoid embarrassment. See Wright, NT. The Resurrection of the Son of God. Vol. 3. Fortress Press, 2003.pg. 607 and Allison Jr, Dale C. Resurrecting Jesus: The Earliest Christian Tradition and its Interpreters. Bloomsbury Publishing USA, 2005.pg. 307.

[26] Turner, David L. Matthew. Baker Academic, 2008, pg. 681.

[27] Calvin, Commentary on the Harmony of the Evangelists, (trans. by William Pringle), 3.338–39.

[28] Origen, Contra Celsum 2.59. This likely represented the prejudice of his day, where women were typically seen as having poor judgment.

[28b] Ibid, 3.44

[29] See Pliny's Letter to Emperor Trajan

[30] Woolston, Sixth Discourse as cited in Allison, Resurrecting Jesus pg. 266

[31] D'Holbach, Ecce Homo. as cited in Ibid.

[31b] Kopyto, Deena. "Women’s Testimony and Talmudic Reasoning." Kedma: Penn's Journal on Jewish Thought, Jewish Culture, and Israel 2, no. 2 (2018): 61-73, quote from pg. 64. See also Gervin, Lindy. "Women as Deceivers in the Hebrew Bible." Women in Judaism: A Multidisciplinary e-Journal 13, no. 2 (2016).

[31c] Origen, Contra Celsum, 2.59-2.60

[32] As argued in Crossley, James. "Manufacturing Resurrection: Locating Some Contemporary Scholarly Arguments." Neotestamentica 45, no. 1 (2011): 49-75.

[33] An additional point: if Mark, as some have suggested, is attempting to have the burial by Joseph of Arimathea to be careful memesis alluding back to the burial of Jacob, it would only be fitting to have a large crowd of secret disciples lament over Jesus just as the Egyptians did Jacob (Gen. 50:1-11). Jesus is afterall the King of the Jews in Mark’s passion narrative. If Mark is more concerned with theology then history here, it would be suitable to give Jesus the eulogy and procession of a king irrespective of His status as a condemned criminal. Verisimilitude be damned. 

[34] Allison ,Resurrection of Jesus, pg. 150

[35] Contra Celsum, 3.44

[36] Philo of Alexandria, Special Laws 1.200f, LA2.97

[37] Ehrman, Bart D. How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee. HarperOne, 2014. pg. 167. 

[38]  Zlotnick, Dov. "The Tractate Mourning":(Sĕmaḥoṯ);(regulations relating to death, burial, and mourning); with an appendix: The Hebrew text of the tractate." Yale Judaica series (1966). This appears to be a practice that has survived to modern times, as stated by MyJewishLearning: “Men handle male bodies and women prepare female bodies; modesty is preserved even in death.”

[39] Carrier, Not the Impossible Faith, Ch. 11. For discussion on Mark’s literary use of reversal of expectation, see Hur, Unsok. "The Disciples' Lack of Comprehension in the Gospel of Mark." Biblical Theology Bulletin 49, no. 1 (2019): 41-48.

[40] Yad, Edut 9:1

[41] Habermas, Gary. "Resurrection Research From 1975 to the Present: What are Critical Scholars Saying?.” Journal for the Study of the Historical Jesus 3, no. 2 (2005): 135-153.

[42]  Schwager, Raymund. Zeitschrift Für Theologie Und Kirche, 1993.

[43] Speech by Christopher Hitchens at the 2008 Freedom Fest

[44] Vermès, Géza. Jesus the Jew. London: SCM, 200, pg. 2.