A recent Salon essay described in
simple terms the case for what is arguably the most controversial idea in
Christianity today: that Jesus of Nazareth is not a historical figure. He never
existed. He is a fictional character, not a real person.
As the essay explains in its
opening paragraphs, for at least a couple centuries, scholars have said that
Jesus was a historical person whose story had been mythologized. He was a real
person but layers of fantastic tradition surrounded him in the Biblical
accounts. The task of scholars has been to strip off those layers, or
“de-mythologize” him, in order to discover who Jesus really was. For a long
time this view had been considered radical and controversial.
The position described in the
Salon article is different. In this view, centuries of mythical tradition, from
a variety of cultures, was drawn upon in the literary and cultic creation of
the figure of Jesus. This would be a case of “mythology historicized.” In
other words, Jesus was created as a literary character from a variety of
mythological figures and archetypes (which explains why in the Bible he seems
to have a variety of personalities and agenda).
The arguments for such a notion
are summarized pretty well in the essay and I won’t repeat them here. I have
written about this topic previously (here and here, for example) and have come down somewhere in the middle
on the question. What seems to me to be the central problem is summarized in
the article’s conclusion:
In
a soon-to-be-released follow up to Nailed, entitled Jesus:
Mything in Action, [David]
Fitzgerald argues that the many competing versions proposed by secular scholars
are just as problematic as any “Jesus of Faith.” Even if one accepts that there
was a real Jesus of Nazareth, the question has little practical meaning: Regardless
of whether or not a first century rabbi called Yeshua ben Yosef lived, the
“historical Jesus” figures so patiently excavated and re-assembled by secular
scholars are themselves fictions. We may never know for certain what put
Christian history in motion. Only time (or perhaps time travel) will tell.
Robert Price, one of the scholars mentioned here and who I have read, describes the problem of modern scholarship
as discovering/creating “too many Jesuses.” He is quoted here saying, “The
historical Jesus (if there was one) might well have been a messianic king, or a
progressive Pharisee, or a Galilean shaman, or a magus, or a Hellenistic
sage. But he cannot very well have been all of them at the same time.”
John Dominic Crossan is quoted to add his verdict on the discovery of
multiple Jesus figures, saying “the stunning diversity is an academic
embarrassment.”
Who was the real Jesus? Does the
question even have any meaning? Or if it is a real question, is it one that we
have a realistic chance of ever answering? Just asking these questions makes
clear that we are in very different territory than traditional Christianity
ever found itself in—and that is the main point. We live in a different world
than that of even our recent ancestors. Fundamentalism is the attempt to deny
such a change, with all the schizophrenic contradictions inherent in such a
stance. Liberal churches claim to embrace the transition to modernity but
wander in confusion trying to decide what it really means.
Over the centuries having
different Jesus figures has been something the church could put to advantage.
An applicable Jesus has been found to comfort and inspire average folks in the
pews, guide barons and business leaders, and support monarchs and politicians.
The shallowness of it all, however, is evident when in World War I, for
example, clergy blessed their nations’ armies as “Christian soldiers” as they
marched off to slaughter each other.
Today the label “Christian” has
become so ambiguous as to be nearly meaningless. There is almost no limit to
the range of political and economic philosophies and personal lifestyles that
can be justified as being true to the teachings of Jesus. Christians squabble
among themselves, shouting Bible verses at each other in an endless struggle to prove
one side right and the other wrong.
Does it matter if Jesus really
existed or not? For orthodox Christianity it certainly does. If nothing else, a
real flesh-and-blood Jesus needs to really die and really be raised for the
whole “mystery of salvation” to make any sense. Yet it is just this “Jesus the
Savior” which has less and less appeal or meaning today, for those outside the
church certainly but even for many still active in church life. And even though
Fundamentalists especially hang on to him, this Jesus now gets relatively
little attention in their worship and preaching, particularly in megachurches with
their emphasis on biblical principles for “successful living.”
Our knowledge about any ancient
figure is murky at best. Even the most famous of Roman emperors or Egyptian
pharaohs are generally known to us via highly prejudiced reports, often second
or third hand. It’s hardly surprising that the life of someone as obscure as Jesus
own followers acknowledged him to be would have left little in the way of a
tangible record, including from anyone who actually knew him. What is perhaps the
strangest aspect of the Jesus story, however, is Paul’s account. Though he is the
closest in time to him, Paul seems to know virtually nothing about Jesus’ actual
life. Nor does he ever unambiguously say “I talked to X who knew Jesus.” Paul’s
ignorance of Jesus is, to my mind, the oddest part of the story and the
strongest element of the case for a non-historical Jesus.
In the end, and as has always been the case, the only Jesus figure
we have to work with is the one we meet in the New Testament, as confusing and
contradictory as he may be. Scholars will continue to try to sort through this biblical
material to try and find a “real” Jesus. Those efforts are not without value.
The artistry and creativity of such work has to be to be recognized, however,
and not to demean it. Throughout its history, the church
has woven the Jesus material, selectively and in various ways, to create images
of Jesus for different times and purposes.
Why not? And why not continue doing so? We are at a point where the dogma surrounding Jesus has nearly lost its grip on him. Certainly the penalties for coloring outside the lines of official Jesus doctrine are of little or no consequence. On the contrary, to breathe new life into the person of Jesus, writers and other artists along with scholars should be encouraged to imagine a Jesus that speaks to our world. The critical community will judge their efforts as well or better than any contemporary Inquisition or other ecclesiastical review panel.
Why not? And why not continue doing so? We are at a point where the dogma surrounding Jesus has nearly lost its grip on him. Certainly the penalties for coloring outside the lines of official Jesus doctrine are of little or no consequence. On the contrary, to breathe new life into the person of Jesus, writers and other artists along with scholars should be encouraged to imagine a Jesus that speaks to our world. The critical community will judge their efforts as well or better than any contemporary Inquisition or other ecclesiastical review panel.
Recent literary efforts like Nikos
Kazantzakis’ The Last Temptation of
Christ or The Gospel According to Jesus Christ by José Saramago generated loud protests when published (or released as a
film). Yet they are the types of work which help us connect Jesus to our
present world and consider him from different, non-traditional perspectives. In
fact, an eruption of genuinely creative and critical books and movies focused
on Jesus could be one of the best things that happened to him, despite the
inevitable shock and horror sure to come from Fundamentalists and other
traditionalists. For most today the “historical Jesus” sits on a shelf: bland,
safe, predictable, and often simply an object of kitsch. Scholars and artists alike need to
bring to life a Jesus at least as shocking and challenging as the one that
inspired the first century church, whether they ever knew him in the flesh or
not.