Tim O’Neill is an excellent atheist. Being widely read in ancient historiography, certainly over a much longer period and knowing far more than I do, he eventually became sick of the atheist misrepresentations of ancient history and launched the blog History for Atheists, a favorite of mine. In it, he refutes various myths told and retold by the oddly unskeptical skeptics about the history of Christianity, including absurd claims of Christians having destroyed the ancient works by showing, in fact, that under the new dominance of Christianity in light of the conversion of the Roman Empire, non-Christian works were almost as likely to survive into the present day as Christian works. He debunks the ridiculous idea that Christians destroyed the Great Library of Alexandria or that Nicolas Copernicus waited until his deathbed to publish his heliocentric theory in fear that the Christian orthodoxy would clamp down on him. In a series of posts, he’s basically laid to rest any credibility of the work of Richard Carrier, a failed historian and unbelievably biased quack whose created an entire (rather unsuccessful) career out of trying to claim that Jesus didn’t actually historically exist. Such is but a small contribution made by O’Neill in his new blog.
Of course, I’ll have to hold up some disagreements with O’Neill as well. This post, in particular, will be devoted to responding to his detailed and lengthy argument on Quora arguing against the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus (in response to someone’s question ‘What evidence is there for Jesus Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection?‘). I think the first paragraph of O’Neill’s answer in his question summarizes his argument;
The source evidence that exists that purports to show that Jesus “rose from the dead” actually indicates how this idea most likely developed and evolved over time. It indicates that the idea that Jesus was somehow “resurrected” was a way his followers dealt with his sudden and unexpected execution and that this idea developed from an abstract one into one of a more concrete, physical revivification. The contradictions in the various accounts, which date from the 50s AD through to the 90s-100 AD, show this process of development.
So, the source evidence (Paul’s letters and the Gospels) reveal that the claim of Jesus’ resurrection was actually a sudden response to his unexpected execution and that, as can be gleaned from a study of the texts, our surviving accounts reveal that the story has been evolving over time, which helps discredit them. Let’s see what I can do here to weaken the case. To set up, I importantly agree with O’Neill that Paul is the only first-hand surviving account, and I’ll adopt his dates for the four Gospels with Mark written shortly after 70, Matthew and Luke in the 80s, and John between 90-120.
O’Neill begins by pointing out that a text making a miracle claim isn’t identical to it being historically accurate, and that even the highly credible Roman historian Tacitus, closely associated with the court of the emperor Vespasian, reports miracles taking place here. Then, O’Neill writes;
One form of miracle that was widely believed in was the idea of apotheosis, where a great man is physically taken up in to the heavens and raised to divine status. It was claimed that Romulus, the founder of Rome, underwent this process and later appeared to his friend Julius Proculus to declare his new celestial status. The same claim was made about Julius Caesar and Augustus, with supposed witnesses observing their ascent into the heavenly realm. Lucian’s satire The Passing of Peregrinus includes his scorn for the claim that the philosopher was taken up into the celestial realm and was later seen walking around on earth after his death. The Chariton novel Callirhoe has its hero Chaereas visiting the tomb of his recently dead wife, saying he “arrived at the tomb at daybreak” where he “found the stones removed and the entrance open. At that he took fright.” Others are afraid to enter the tomb, but Chaereas goes in and finds his wife’s body missing and concludes she has been taken up by the gods.
Remember, Jesus was exalted again after His death back to the status of divinity (Philippians 2:6-11), and, therefore, can be likened to a form of apotheosis. O’Neill’s argument is that in the world of Roman paganism, apotheosis played a role in the deification of emperors and great heroes and the widespread nature of this process may have influenced and have helped describe the psychology of the early Christians in accepting a theological apotheosis for their own just-dead prophet. There are a number of problems with this argument. One would be the sheer extent to which pagan apotheosis was rejected by 1st century Jews as a component of their monotheism. Larry Hurtado writes;
Second, the Jewish monotheistic stance forbade apotheosis, the divinization of human figures, and thus clashed with a major theme in pagan religion of the time. Philo’s quip about Gaius Caligula’s claim to divinity aptly illustrates Jewish attitudes, and is all the more important in coming from a diaspora Jew who in some other respects shows a cosmopolitan attitude: “Sooner could God change into a man than a man into God” (Embassy to Gaius 118). This rejection of apotheosis as ridiculous and blasphemous seems in fact to have been characteristic of devout Jews of the Roman period, and this in turn makes highly implausible any explanation of the Christ-devotion attested in, and affirmed by, Paul as resulting from the prevalence of the notion of apotheosis in the Roman era. Though Jewish writings of the time show that principal angels and revered human figures such as Moses or Enoch could be pictured in a highly exalted status, and described in terms that can be compared with divinization, the refusal to accord any such figure cultic worship shows that we are not dealing here with a genuine apotheosis. In light of the allergic sensitivity of devout Jews of the time about claims of apotheosis, any scholar who wishes to propose the relevance of this category for explaining the Christ devotion of the first couple decades of the Christian movement is obliged to provide a cogent description of the specific process by which Christian Jews could have adopted this repellent category without realizing it. (Hurtado, Larry W. Lord Jesus Christ: Devotion to Jesus in Earliest Christianity. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2005, 91-93)
Elsewhere, Hurtado points out that likening what happened with Jesus to apotheosis is simplistic, and that this wasn’t apotheosis since Jesus didn’t become an additional God to Christians, rather Jewish monotheism was reconfigured to include Jesus (pg. 51). The prevalence of this pagan belief can’t help explain the readiness of early Christians to accept Jesus’ resurrection and deity. Hurtado writes, “we have no other Roman-era example of a religious movement with similar ties to the Jewish religious tradition of exclusivistic monotheism and with a devotional pattern that involved so thoroughly a second figure in addition to God” (pg. 7). In light of David Litwa’s book Iesus Deus, where Litwa engages in the flawed process of trying to revitalize this idea based on the influence of apotheosis from Hellenistic culture, I also highly recommend the discussion in Michael Bird’s Jesus the Eternal Son (2017) pp. 34-63 where Bird demonstrates that 1) even among Greco-Roman authors there was a broad critique and ridicule of the notion of apotheosis and deification 2) despite some apparent ambiguity in some texts there is a distinct brand of Judaism that treated God as fundamentally distinct from other creatures in a way that rules out apotheosis 3) the Gospels belong to this brand of Judaism.
I’ll also mention that O’Neill goes on to explain the story of the pagan deity Apollonius of Tyana in the works of Philostratus, and notes the numerous similarities it has with the story of the resurrection of Jesus. Of course, the Life of Apollonius is a third-century writing and, as O’Neill points outs, these stories may very well have been borrowed from the story of Jesus. O’Neill tries to refutes the following apologetic: the disciples would not have invented or deluded resurrection or appearances of Jesus because such an event was unthinkable for a first-century Jew, as Jews believed resurrection would only come during God’s Final Judgement and not before. O’Neill points out the New Testament mentions several resurrections before Jesus’s (e.g. Mark 5:21-43; John 11:1-46). However, O’Neill misunderstands the argument. These are resurrections prior to Jesus’s, but these examples are irrelevant, because they are temporary revivification like we sometimes see in the Old Testament (1 Kings 17:17-24; 2 Kings 4:32-37, 13:20-21). But these people will eventually die again anyways. In Jesus’s resurrection, Jesus receives a glorified, immortal resurrection body, and it is this form of Jewish resurrection that was unthinkable prior to the Final Judgement as part of a collective resurrection event of God’s righteous.
Now that we’ve seen how O’Neill outlines the background of the story of the resurrection, we’ll move into his latter argument; the evolution of the stories of the Gospels themselves. O’Neill analyzes five sources to outline how the resurrection story evolved, in order of their dating. First, Paul’s writings, then the Gospels of Mark, Matthew, Luke, and John in that order. This will show that the stories of the resurrection in the Gospel clearly underwent literary development, evolution and embellishment over a series of decades, and, according to O’Neill, shows a transition from describing a purely spiritual resurrection in Paul’s theology, where Jesus never undergoes any bodily resurrection, to the Gospels, where bodily resurrection is fully envisioned and the details of the story become increasingly legendary. Here’s what O’Neill says about Paul (to read O’Neill’s entire comment, see here).
Paul then goes on to scold some of the Corinthians for saying there was not going to be a general resurrection of the dead – as already noted above, this idea was not universally accepted by all Jews and it seems to have become disputed in the Corinthian community of the Jesus sect. Paul asks “if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead?” (v. 12) and goes on to call Jesus’ resurrection “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep”, ie the pre-figurement of the coming general resurrection. He goes on to address the question of whether this coming resurrection will involve the rising of physical bodies and says in response “How foolish!”. Then he goes on to explain that the coming general resurrection will not be physical but involve “spiritual bodies”.
If Jesus’ resurrection is the pre-figurement of the coming general resurrection of the dead, therefore, it is clear that for Paul his rising did not involve a physical body. This is why Paul’s references to and insistence on the fact of the rising of Jesus makes no mention of the evidence of a physical revivification of his dead body that features in some of the later accounts: the empty tomb, discarded grave cloths, people touching Jesus, Jesus eating and his physical form flying up into heaven. For Paul, at this early stage of the development of the story, the risen Jesus is a spiritual concept involving visions, not physical encounters.
While once arguable, recent scholarship has rendered O’Neill’s view in a spiritual resurrection of Jesus completely untenable. I’ve written a complete critique and refutation of this claim here. The following will summarize the evidence.
Spiritual resurrection in Paul is argued for in a few ways, including arguing that some terminology Paul uses when discussing the resurrection of Jesus is compatible with a spiritual interpretation of the resurrection. Some claim that Paul must have meant spiritual resurrection because of his use of the term and conjugations of ὁράω to refer to him seeing Jesus in his appearances, and that this word refers to spiritual sight. But this is incorrect, it also refers to physical sight, and that is by far its primary usage in the New Testament compared to spiritual sight. Frederick Dankers, Concise Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament, 254. Heck, it’s even used to describe seeing Jesus’s physically appear in Luke 24:34. However, recent scholars have shown that it simply isn’t true that Paul’s terminology is even compatible with spiritual resurrection. The Greek word Paul uses for ‘raised’ is ἐγείρω which has been conclusively shown to mean physically getting up i.e. starting in a lying down posture and erecting upwards (think how one gets up after waking from sleep (see James Ware, “The Resurrection of Jesus in the Pre-Pauline Formula of 1 Cor 15.3–5“, NTS (2014)). That directly implies that the dead body of Jesus, lying on the ground, transitioned to an erect upwards posture, standing up. That’s exactly what this Greek word means. Secondly, John Cook has also shown that, in the context of Jewish and pagan belief in the time of Jesus, coming back from the dead was solely viewed as a physical phenomena (Cook, “Resurrection in Paganism and the Question of an Empty Tomb in 1 Corinthians 15“, NTS 2017). That’s to say that the historical context to early Christianity indicates that the idea of Jesus spiritually coming back from the dead despite a rotting corpse outside Jerusalem is a “category mistake” in Cook’s words (pg. 61). While some have tried to argue spiritual resurrection can be found in Daniel 12, Cook and Ehrman point out;
“A convincing defence of bodily resurrection may be found in A. Chester, Future Hope and Present Reality, vol. I: Eschatology and Transformation in the Hebrew Bible (WUNT 293; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012) 291–5. The Hebrew verb in Dan 12.2 (יקיצו) should be compared with the verb used for Gehazi’s failure to raise the dead boy in 2 Kings 4.31, who showed no signs of waking/rising (הקיץ לא), translated in 4 Reg 4.31 with the very material οὐκ ἠγέρθη. Cf. Levenson, Resurrection, 186.” (Cook, “Resurrection”, pg. 61, n. 34)
“And [Daniel] maintains their actual bodies will come back to life. This is not some kind of “spiritual” resurrection in which people are granted eternal life as souls; it is a profoundly bodily experience. These people are “asleep,” a common euphemism for “death,” specically “in the dust.” This shows he is talking about bodies returning to life: that which comes to life is in the soil. And what is in the soil? The corpse.” (Heaven and Hell: A History of the Afterlife, 122)
1 Corinthians 15:44, which, in the English translation, appears to suggest that Paul did view resurrection as spiritual (and that’s how O’Neill reads it), actually doesn’t have anything to do with the nature of the resurrected body.
1 Corinthians 15:44: It is sown a natural [ψυχικόν] body, it is raised a spiritual [πνευματικόν] body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.
James Ware explains in this article how this passage, in the Greek, actually says nothing approaching what its English translation seems to suggest (and a more detailed refutation is found in Michael Licona, The Resurrection of Jesus, 406-13);
Central to the readings of Martin, Eng berg -Pedersen, and Borg is the assumption that the “spiritual body ” (soma pneumatikon) in 15:44–46 refers to a body composed of spirit or pneuma, distinct from the body of flesh laid in the tomb. Howe ver, this claim reflects an utter misunderstanding of the actual lexical meaning of the ke y terms in question. The adjective which Paul here contrasts with pneumatikos (“spiritual”) is not sarkinos (“fleshly ”), cognate with sarx (“flesh”), and thus referring to the flesh, but psychikos ( literally “soulish”), cognate with psyche (“soul”), thus referring to the soul. This adjective outside the New Testament is used, without exception, with reference to the properties or activities of the soul (e.g ., 4 Macc1:32; Aristotle, Eth. nic. 3.10.2; Epictetus, Diatr. 3.7.5–7; Plutarch, Plac. philos. 1.8). Modifying soma (“ body ”) as here, with reference to the present body, the adjective describes this body as given life or activity by the soul. The adjective has nothing to do with the body ’s composition, but denotes the source of the body ’s life and activity.
The meaning of the paired adjective psychikos in 1 Cor 15:44–46 is extremely significant, for it reveals that the common scholarly understanding of Paul’s term “spiritual body ” involves a fundamental misreading of the passage. For if the soma pneumatikon in this context describes the composition of the future body, as a body composed solely of spirit, its correlate soma psychikon would perforce describe the composition of the present body, as a body composed only of soul. Paul would assert the absence of flesh and bones, not only from the risen body, but also from the present mortal body as well! The impossibility that psychikos here refers to the body ’s composition rules out the notion that its correlated adjective pneumatikos refers to the body ’s composition. Contrasted with psychikos, the adjective pneumatikos must similarly refer to the source of the body ’s life and activity, describing the risen body as given life by the Spirit. The mode of existence described by the adjective pneumatikos is further clarified by the larger context of the letter, in which the adjective is uniformly used with reference to persons or thing s enlivened, empowered, or transformed by the Spirit of God : flesh and blood human being s (2:15; 3:1; 14:37), palpable manna and water (10:3–4), and a very tangible rock (10:4). Used with soma in 15:44, the adjective pneumatikos indicates that the risen body will be given life and empowered by God’s Spirit.
Both contextual and lexical evidence thus indicate that the phrase soma pneumatikon or “spiritual body ” in 1 Cor 15:44–46 does not refer to a body composed of spirit or pneuma, but to the fleshly body endowed with imperishable life by the power of the Spirit. Although the expression soma pneumatikon is unique here in Paul, the concept of the Spirit as the agent of resurrection life is a major theme within Paul’s theology (Rom 8:9–11; 8:23; 2 Cor 5:4–5; Gal 5:25; 6:7–8). Within this theology, the work of the Spirit in those who belong to Christ will culminate in the resurrection, when “the one who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who indwells you” (Rom 8:11).
Some suggest that the appearance of the resurrected Jesus to Paul in Acts is simply a revelation, an internal mind event that did not happen outside of his head. However, I’m pretty sure that is unsustainable when analyzing Luke-Acts. All the resurrection appearances in Luke and elsewhere in Acts are undeniably physical (Luke 24; Acts 1:6–11, Acts 10:41), and so, at most, the appearances to Paul are, at best, a less clear example of a physical appearance. Furthermore, the narratives of Paul’s appearance in Acts actually seems to suggest that the appearances are physical. Acts clearly didn’t think the appearance was restricted to Paul’s head since Acts narrates that the people travelling with Paul saw a light and heard a sound. In Acts 9:3, a light from heaven “flashed around him”. In Acts 9:7, the people with Paul “heard the sound” that spoke to Paul but “saw no one”. In Acts 22:9, the people travelling with Paul “see the light” and Paul ends up blinded for three days. So clearly, these accounts record something beyond Paul’s internal perception. It’s also worth pointing out that the bright light that Paul and his travelers saw was coming from the physical Jesus, since the ancients thought that heavenly beings were very bright, and so this detail directly requires the physical Jesus to have been present to the group that Paul was in and was the source of the light. See Dale Allison, “Acts 9:1–9, 22:6–11, 26:12–18: Paul and Ezekiel”, JBL (2016): 813-814. Some try to appeal to Paul’s letters themselves, against the account of Paul in Acts, to support that Paul had an internal spiritual experience but did not witness a physical appearance of Christ. It’s noted that Paul claimed he had a “revelation” (Gal. 1:11) that happened “in” him (Gal. 1:16). However, this is not inconsistent with the physical appearance of Paul recorded in Acts, where multiple people hear Jesus and see a light but the message is only understood by Paul. Acts, on the conversion of Paul, is always and significantly corroborated by Paul when covering Paul’s life before his conversion, what happened during the appearance, and what happened right after. Before being a Christian, Paul was a zealous Jew and a Pharisee who had excelled in his Judaism beyond his contemporaries and a persecutor of the early Christians (Gal. 1:13-14; Phil. 3:5-6; Acts 9:1-2; 22:3; 26:4-5) but soon had an appearance of Jesus to him where he was commissioned to preach to the Gentiles and then went to Damascus (Gal. 1:16-17; Acts 9:8, 15). Dale Allison concludes that “[w]e can be fairly certain that the author of Acts had access to a traditional call story that included most or all of the elements just enumerated, a story that, even if expanded with legendary elements and revised by Luke, goes back ultimately to Paul’s own narrative” (Allison, Resurrecting Jesus, 263). A small minority of scholars would try to suggest that Luke had access to Paul’s letters and used them as a source, but we can be fairly sure this isn’t true. We know how Luke often quotes his sources verbatim (see his usage of Mark and Matthew). But Luke never verbatim quotes Paul despite his highly lengthy work and the fact that they often cover the same topics and narratives (Gal. 2/Acts 15, 2 Cor. 11:32-33/Acts 9:23-25). So Acts is accessing tradition going back to Paul for his information, not any written sources. In light of the stunning lack of a single verbatim quote of Paul in Acts for the person who wants to claim that Acts used Paul’s letters, the single word and theme parallels noted by Brad McAdon between Gal. 2 and Acts 15 clearly indicates their shared tradition rather than the literary dependence McAdon somehow thinks they imply. Furthermore, there’s no evidence that the letters of Paul had been collected and were being distributed by the time Luke-Acts was written (80-85 AD) so that they could have been used as a source. This implies Acts likely has access to reliable and authentic information from Paul on almost every point of the conversion and so we can trust that Paul had an experience something like what Acts describes. In fact, Paul himself distinguishes between the Jesus appearances in 1 Cor. 15:3-8 and later internal visions and revelations. So, some people like to argue that Paul and other members of the early church regularly experienced visions (2 Cor. 12:1-9; Acts 2:17; 7:55-6; 9:10-16; 10:1-6, 9-16; 11:4-10; 16:9; 18:9; Col. 2:18), and so that they had an experience of the risen Christ is not surprising at all and something that could have easily happened. This argument cannot sustain criticism. Paul says that Jesus “appeared” (ὤφθη) to himself and those listed in 1 Cor. 15:3-8. Paul never again says that Jesus “appeared” to anyone else, including when he goes on to describe internal visions and revelations of Jesus (e.g. 2 Cor. 12). The appearances were fundamentally different from the later and common visionary experiences that took place. This is confirmed by the fact that Paul says “last of all he appeared to me”, meaning that the appearance to Paul was the final appearance of Jesus, despite ongoing later internal visions and revelations. And so the appearances of Jesus in 1 Cor. 15:3-8 can really be nothing else but physical appearances, just as Acts describes it.
I should also add that the Pharisees (whom Paul formerly was prior to joining the Jesus sect) firmly believed in physical resurrection (Josephus, War 2.163; Ant. 18.14; Acts 4:1–2; 23:6–10). Thus, O’Neill’s most significant piece of “evolution” in the Christian understanding of the resurrection, the transition from belief in spiritual to bodily resurrection, doesn’t actually exist. In another comment, O’Neill tries to suggest that even if Paul thinks Jesus’ resurrected body was made of physical stuff, it may still have been a different body raised by God then the one that died and was buried. This happens to be what the Pharisees believed. That would allow O’Neill to sidestep an empty tomb. But, in fact, this interpretation is pretty hilariously mistaken. What does Paul tell us? “Fool! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And as for what you sow, you do not sow the body that is to be, but a bare seed, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body” (1 Cor. 15:36-38). So in v. 36, Paul tells us that what is being sown (i.e. the body we die with) is going to come back to life in a transformed body, and then analogizes this to a seed being put into the ground and then growing into a plant. Paul also tells us that just like in the resurrection of Jesus, God will give life to our “mortal bodies” (Rom. 8:11) and that just like with Jesus, God will “transform our lowly bodies” (Phil. 3:20-21) so that they will be like the transformed and glorified body of Jesus. The analogy between what happened with Jesus and what will happen in the future resurrection of believers in Paul’s letters is unambiguous on them involving a transformation of our own bodies rather than the creation of a new one. Furthermore, the Greek word Paul uses to say Jesus was raised is ἐγείρω which literally refers to a sleeping person getting up, or a body standing up straight from a sitting/lying posture (Ware, “Resurrection”, 492-495). This is reiterated in the encyclopedic entry on Jesus’ resurrection in the Brill Encyclopedia of Christianity Online. Thus, it was the same corpse of Jesus lying down dead that subsequently got up and was raised. See James Ware, “Paul’s Understanding of the Resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15:36–54” JBL (2014), where Ware shows that Paul’s grammar requires a physical resurrection in the same body at further length. It could hardly be more clear that Paul understood Jesus’s resurrection as involving the same physical body that had died.
O’Neill now begins to address the stories and development of the four Gospels. I’ll pick out a number of flaws here and there throughout O’Neill’s argument, before moving to my major argument.
On the way there [the women going to visit Jesus’ tomb] they ask each other “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?” (Mark 16:3), which should strike most readers as a question they should have asked before they set out, if this story was historical.
Really, should it strike us? Well … not really. As far as I’m concerned, it’s not too uncommon for people to not actually have thought out all the details before going out with each other, especially on something so emotional where these women … might just really wanted to have seen Jesus as soon as possible.
Secondly, the use of the word ἀποκυλίω (to roll away) indicates that the stone closing the tomb in the gMark account is meant to be round. A survey of First Century Jewish rock cut and cave tombs by Amos Kloner found that 98% of them were closed by square stones prior to 70 AD, with only four of the surveyed sites closed by a rolling round stone. After 70 AD, however, round stones became far more common. So this detail seems to be indicating the kind of tomb in the later First Century, given that a tomb of this style was exceedingly rare in Jesus’ time. This could just be the writer of gMark indicating the kind of tomb in the time he was writing or it could be that the tomb itself, an element conspicuous by its absence in Paul’s version, was an addition to the story.
The details seem to be accurate: most stones closing tombs in the Jewish land at this time were square stones, and round stones are rare until later on in the century. But this is irrelevant. As scholar and archaeologist Urban C. von Wahlde has pointed out, the square-shaped stones would also have been rolled. It’s not like there was a better way back then to move around those massive rocks. Wahlde writes;
It is not necessary to change the definition of kulio to make sense of the Gospel accounts. Von Wahlde points out: “It may very well be that people rolled the ‘cork-shaped’ stones away from the tomb. Once you see the size of a ‘stopper’ stone, it is easy to see that, however one gets the stone out of the doorway, chances are you are going to roll it the rest of the way.” Although they certainly would not have rolled as easily as round (disk-shaped) stones, cork-shaped stones still could have been rolled.
Moving on, O’Neill points out there are no resurrection appearances in the Gospel of Mark. Though he neglects to mention that in Mark 14:28, Jesus explicitly tells his disciples that after his resurrection, he’ll go ahead and meet them at Galilee (therefore, the appearances are implied). O’Neill also argues, along the lines of a number of others, that Jesus would not have received a burial in a tomb but rather, like other criminals of the day, would have simply been buried in one of the mass graves available at the time. This is wrong. In a separate paper, Cook points out that 1) there are no known criminal mass graves from Judea (and no text from the ancient world at all that says crucified victims would be buried in a mass grave) 2) their existence is unlikely because of Jewish custom to bury the dead 3) the textual evidence tells us that the two options of crucified victims were either being left to rot on the cross and be eaten by animals or permission was requested and granted for burial in which case a proper burial would take place. See Cook, “Crucifixion and Burial”, NTS (2011). As far as I’m concerned, the only mention of mass graves for those executed for violating Jewish law is in a section of the Mishnah from the 3rd century (m. Sanhedrin 6:5). Furthermore, Jesus was not executed under Jewish law. Jesus was executed under Roman law via the Roman punishment of crucifixion. For one, those executed under Jewish law were not allowed to be buried (m. Sanhedrin 6:5), and yet Paul in 1 Cor. 15:4 and the Gospels describe Jesus as being buried, meaning both are agreed that Jesus was charged and executed under Roman law. Secondly, the Gospels record that a plack called the titulus was attached to Jesus’s cross which read something like “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”. The point of the titulus was to record the crime for which the executed was being punished under, and so Jesus was clearly being charged under Roman law. Obviously, Jewish law would have punished Jesus on the basis of blasphemy, not supposedly calling Himself the “King of the Jews”. And since only those charged and executed under Jewish law were put in mass graves, Jesus would not even have been put into a mass grave if He had lived and died at a later period. Since Jesus would not have been placed in a mass grave, the remaining options are that He either was left to rot on the cross or received a proper burial, either in an individual trench grave or in Joseph of Arimathea’s family tomb. The idea that Jesus was left to rot on the cross can be dismissed because the early creed in 1 Cor. 15:3-7, specifically v. 4, is clear that Jesus was “buried” in addition to the fact that Jewish custom required that those executed on the basis of capital offense must be buried and not left overnight (Deuteronomy 21:22-23). From the Jewish sources of the time period, we know that this custom was followed. Josephus, a historian of Israel living in the 1st century, complains about a brutal practice of the Romans during the Roman-Jewish War: “Nay, they proceeded to that degree of impiety, as to cast away their dead bodies without burial, although the Jews used to take so much care of the burial of men, that they took down those that were condemned and crucified, and buried them before the going down of the sun” (War 4.317). On the other hand, Bart Ehrman has argued that Josephus is only talking about “malefactors” in his passage whereas Jesus was charged for insurrection/high treason and so could not have been allowed a burial. However, Ehrman is wrong. In the paper mentioned earlier, Cook shows that the charge of Jesus was in fact sedition or troublemaking and not insurrection/high treason. See Cook, pp. 198-203. The passage in Josephus is verified by Roman law (Justinian’s Digest 48.24.1, 48.24.3) and we also know of one properly buried crucifixion victim in Judea from the time of Jesus named Yehohanan. The Jewish concern to bury the executed dead is also reflected in Tobit 1:16-18; 2:3-8 and in the Temple Scroll. Thus, the body of Jesus could definitely have been requested and granted for proper burial, as was common and unsurprising, either in an individual grave trench or by Joseph of Arimathea’s family tomb.
The Gospels describe that the body of Jesus was requested by and granted burial by Joseph of Arimathea (Mark 15:42-47; Matthew 27:57-61; Luke 23:50-56; John 19:38-42). The historicity of the story of the Joseph passages is worth considering further. O’Neill suggests that while Joseph of Arimathea may be historical, it’s also possible he was invented to make the Gospel story fit better with Isaiah 53:9: “They made his grave with the wicked and his tomb with the rich.” However, Isaiah 53:9 is never quoted or even alluded in the burial passages, which would raise the question as to whether this passage really was in mind when writing up the burial accounts. In fact, the only Gospel to show evidence of concern for Isaiah 53:9 when writing their burial account is Matthew, and Matthew does so by altering the terminology of Mark which is initially free of any evidence of concern for Isaiah 53:9 (see Barrick, “The Rich Man from Arimathea (Matt 27:57-60) and 1QISA”, JBL (1977)). Matthew is dependent on Mark, and so we find that only in later in Matthew’s description does Isaiah 53:9 become a concern. However, if the burial account was composed to fulfill Isaiah 53:9 to begin with, we would expect to have seen that concern in Mark, in which it is absent.
A more likely explanation for the Joseph passages is that they are the product of a historical Joseph adhering to Jewish law. Jesus died on Friday and so the burial had to be completed prior to the next day, the day of the Sabbath, when burial practices were prohibited. Jodi Magness says;
Joseph of Arimathea seems to have been motivated by a concern for the observance of Jewish law. On the one hand, Deut 21:22-23 mandates burial within twenty-four hours of death, even for those guilty of the worst crimes, whose bodies were hanged after death. On the other hand, Jewish law prohibits burial on the Sabbath and festivals. Because Jesus expired on the cross on the eve of the Sabbath, he had to be buried before sundown on Friday, because waiting until after sundown on Saturday would have exceeded the twenty-four-hour time limit. Since there was no time to prepare a grave, Joseph of Arimathea placed Jesus’ body in his family’s rockcut tomb. (Magness, Jodi. Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2011, 165)
Also see here for an extended description and further reading as to why scholars tend to take the burial account of Joseph as historical. Besides being consistent with the available archaeological evidence, as Magness has shown, Joseph’s actions are the probable consequence of known Jewish customs and following the Jewish sensibilities of the time (Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit, 164-172). In addition, we find out that there’s little legendary mish-mash found anywhere in the earliest Joseph account of Mark. In a post here, O’Neill somehow finds it suspicious that Joseph is only briefly mentioned in this account and doesn’t appear again later. But why would he? While not in his Quora answer, I’ve more recently seen O’Neill offer another argument against the historicity of the story of Jesus’s burial by Joseph of Arimathea. A certain PC1 wrote to O’Neill on his blog about the historicity of the Joseph story:
It isnt just apologists who argue the contrary. For example, archaeologist Jodi Magness has said “In my opinion, the notion that Jesus was unburied or buried in disgrace is based on a misunderstanding of the archaeological evidence and of Jewish law….I believe that the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ burial are largely consistent with the archeological evidence…the Gospel accounts describing Jesus’ removal from the cross and burial are consistent with archaeological evidence and with Jewish law”.
And O’Neill responded:
“largely consistent with … archaeological evidence and with Jewish law” and “the most likely scenario” are not the same thing. Especially when Paul, strangely, makes no mention of any “empty tomb” when trying to convince the Corinthians of the physical reality of the resurrection, while Acts 13:27-29 records an early tradition whereby it’s “those who live in Jerusalem and their rulers” who execute Jesus and then says these enemies “took him down from the tree and laid him in a tomb”. An early variant of John 19:38 also has the Jews taking Jesus away for burial. This is also found in the Gospel of Peter 6:21 and in Justin Martyr: Dialogue 97.1. Then the Secret Book of James has Jesus refer to how he was “buried in the sand”. The idea his followers lay him in a tomb seems to be a later development, aimed at refuting the idea that he was not buried at all or they just went to the wrong tomb. It is a prop for the later resurrection stories, not evidence for them.
Ah, so John, Acts, the Gospel of Peter, and Justin Martyr “preserve” “earlier” traditions where “the Jews” (the Jewish opponents of Jesus) were responsible Jesus’ burial, unlike the preserved narrative on how the Sanhedrist Joseph, a secret believer in Christ, was responsible for burying Jesus. However, there is an alternate explanation for the data here. After going over the data that O’Neill mentions, Craig Evans writes;
” … the context suggests that the “they” may be the Jewish opponents of Jesus rather than his disciples. The plural may simply be a generalization of the memory of Joseph (who scarcely did the whole burial alone), a Sanhedrist responsible for sentencing Jesus but active in burying him out of fidelity to the Jewish law.” (The Historical Jesus: Jesus Death, Mission, and Resurrection, 2004, 249)
So when John 19:38, Acts 13:27-29, the Gospel of Peter, and Justin Martyr say that the Jewish opponents of Christianity buried Jesus, that’s talking about Joseph of Arimathea and whoever would have assisted him. While O’Neill cites the Gospel of Peter to back up his early sources claiming it was “the Jews” who buried Jesus, he leaves out the fact that the same text goes on to say that Joseph himself buried Jesus (Gos. Pet. 6:23). A possible objection is as follows: Joseph is recorded as a secret believer in Matthew (27:57), Luke (23:51) and John (19:38), and so how can he be considered a Jewish opponent of the church? But the problem here is that if there were to be any later developments going on in the Gospel narratives, it would be that Joseph was a secret believer in Jesus despite being a member of the Sanhedrin which was the enemy Jewish group that sentenced Jesus to death. Mark reports that all members of the Sanhedrin were present at Jesus’s trial with the High Priest and all condemned him to death (14:53, 64) before saying that Joseph himself was a member of the Sanhedrin (15:43), implying that Joseph also condemned Jesus to death. It is extremely unlikely that members of the Jesus sect would have made up that it was “the (enemy) Jews” who were responsible for burying Jesus, which is why the legend developed later in Matthew, Luke, and John that Joseph was actually a secret believer all along. Matthew, for example, changes Mark’s phrase that “All of them condemned him as deserving death” (14:64) to “They answered, ‘He deserves death'” (26:66). If the burial of Jesus in a tomb really was an invention, the members of the Jesus sect would have made up that a believer was responsible for burying Jesus in the first place rather than going through this mottled process of first inventing that an enemy Jew buried Jesus, then remembering that they actually don’t like enemy Jews, and so changing the invention so that he wasn’t an enemy all along! In reality, what most likely happened was that a member of the Sanhedrin named Joseph of Arimathea, following the crucifixion of Jesus, ensured his burial as a result of, not secret belief, but following Jewish custom. Later on, legend developed that Joseph was a secret believer to begin with.
I will add an addendum to the point that Evans makes: one could dispute whether Acts (and subsequently John) could pluralize the memory of Joseph (and the attendants he would need to bury Jesus) as “the Jews”, and so whether Acts 13:27-29 really could be about Joseph. However, this dispute disappears once we find that memories of plots by individual Jewish opponents of the church often gets generalized as “the Jews” once we get to Acts. This can be seen, for example, in the parallel account between 2 Cor. 11:32-33 and Acts 9:23-25 where the plots by the governor of Damascus simply becomes the plots of “the Jews”.
Notice that this also refutes a conspiracy theory about Joseph of Arimathea, albeit not one that Tim himself repeats. This theory says that the Judean settlement of the ‘Arimathea’ in ‘Joseph of Arimathea’ actually means, in the Greek, ‘best disciple town’, which ought to make the whole thing suspicious. The problem with this theory is that it’s just wrong. If there’s any linguistic connections of the Greek term Ἁριμαθαία (Arimathea), it’s with Ἁρμαθαιμ – the LXX rendering of the name of the city of Ramathaim in 1 Samuel 1 (but is also found in 1 Maccabees 11:34). The spellings are nearly identical, and the rough breathing of the Greek name reflects the Hebrew definite article in the OT original. Eusebius of Caesarea, a 4th century historian of the Christian communities, himself assumes in his Onomasticon, as we would expect, that Arimathea and Ramathaim are the same thing, and tells us it was located near Diospolis – a few days walk from where he lived. Not only that, but consider the following. Joseph only becomes a secret disciple of Jesus in later Gospels. In the Gospel of Mark, he turns out not to be a disciple at all, but actually plays a role in condemning Jesus in the trial of the Sanhedrin. So ‘Arimathea’ certainly does not mean ‘best disciple town’. It also doesn’t really matter that Arimathea is rarely mentioned in sources outside of the NT, although some people would like that to be more significant. It doesn’t matter because it was a minor Jewish settlement with little significance. It has no importance to Christianity. Eusebius is the first extant author to discuss Arimathea, but he’s also the first extant author to discuss Nazareth, and yet, archaeologists have dug Nazareth up anyways and we know it’s a real place. (This leads us to a weird conspiracy group of Nazareth-deniers.)
While O’Neill doesn’t refer to it specifically, plenty of people do refer to an apparent contradiction between the resurrection account of Mark versus the Gospels of Matthew, Luke, and John. Some would suggest that in Mark, an angel appears to the women who visit Jesus’s tomb who tells them that Jesus is risen and that they should tell the disciples but, instead, they’re afraid and tell no one (16:8), but in the other Gospels, such as in Matthew, we’re told that Matthew says that the women did go to tell the disciples of what they saw (28:8). This, however, involves a simple misreading of Mark. Michael Licona writes;
In Mark 16:8, the women fled from the tomb in fear and astonishment. And they said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. However, in Matthew, Luke, and John, the women informed the disciples of the empty tomb. This appears to be a contradiction. However, a resolution is certainly possible; for example, earlier in Mark 1:44, Jesus told a man whom he had just healed of leprosy, “See that you say nothing to anyone. But go show yourself to the priest.” The command in both instances is very similar. Thus, it could be that Mark is saying, as implied in 1:44, that the women did not stop along the way to speak with anyone else but went directly to the disciples. (Licona, Why Are There Differences in the Gospels? Oxford University Press, 2016, 177.)
Furthermore, Adela Yarbro Collins writes;
“The second part of v. 8*, “and they said nothing to anyone; for they were afraid,” continues the description of the impact that the experience at the tomb had on the women. Their silence is a result of their being struck with awe at the extraordinary events. The tension between the commission given the women by the angel in v. 7* and the silence of the women in v. 8* is due to the depiction of the overwhelming effect of the overall experience on the women. The text does not address the question whether the women eventually gave the disciples and Peter the message. It focuses rather on the numinous and shocking character of the event of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. This interpretation is supported by primary texts within and outside of Mark. In the account of the stilling of the storm, the disciples are presented indirectly as having an ordinary fear of the storm when they wake Jesus and say “don’t you care that we are perishing?” (4:38*). When Jesus has put a stop to the storm, however, they experience a different kind of fear (4:41*). They are terrified when they see Jesus, whom they presume to be an ordinary human being, act with divine power. Furthermore, a reaction of amazement or awe is typical of the responses of those present to the mighty deeds of Jesus. This kind of reaction is related to the typical human response to a theophany or epiphany. (Adela Collins, Mark: A Commentary, Hermeneia, pg. 800)
So, what Mark actually says is “Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid” (16:8). It’s pretty clear that, based on how Mark describes pretty similar commands and amazement/fear of the otherworldly elsewhere in the Gospels, we’re not being told that the women refused to listen to the angel because they were afraid of telling anyone, but that simply, on the way to go to the disciples, they did not tell anyone else.
Let’s talk about some actual (well, supposed) development. O’Neill, throughout his answer, places emphasis on two discrepancies in the four resurrection accounts. The first is the number of women that visited Jesus’ tomb. Mark says that there were three women (16:1), Luke says has an unspecified amount but at least five (24:1, 10), Matthew has two (28:1), and John has one (20:1). Clear development of the story? Asides from the fact that there’s no linear pattern of development through the four Gospels, an analysis of the Gospels in the background of their genre (ancient biography) shows many of the differences between Gospel accounts are the product of the literary techniques commonly seen throughout ancient biographical works. In the case of the number of women, it’s clear that the Gospels are using the literary technique of spotlighting. No development happening. Imagine a stage of dancers performing at a show. The stage goes dark, you can’t see anyone. The spotlight shines on a single dancer. You know all the other dancers are there, but you can only see one. That’s spotlighting. Literary spotlighting is a single person being mentioned in a story while the author/reader knows that others are present, even if not explicitly mentioned. Quite common in ancient biography. In fact, when it comes to the resurrection stories and the number of women present, we know literary spotlighting is happening.
John 20:1: Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”
Remember, John’s Gospel only reports one woman, Mary, visiting the tomb. So what did Mary mean when she said “we” in the above verses? It’s clear that John, even though he doesn’t mention other women being present, is explicitly aware of them. Hence, we know that the variance in the number of women between the Gospels is a product of literary spotlighting, rather than contradiction or literary development. This isn’t the only place where literary spotlighting happens in the resurrection accounts. Licona writes;
Now look 12 verses later [Luke 24:12], when Jesus is talking with the Emmaus disciples. Luke says they were kept from recognizing Jesus and told him that their women friends had gone to the tomb that morning, discovered it empty, and were told by angels that Jesus had risen from the dead. They added that when the women informed them of this, “some of those with us” went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said (24:24). In 24:12, Luke only mentioned Peter. But it’s obvious that he knew of others in 24:24. Luke was shining his literary spotlight on Peter in 24:12.
In Luke 24:12, Peter is described as going to the tomb, but a few verses later, the word “us” is used to describe the people going back to the tomb. And there are yet more, as spotlighting was a common compositional device in ancient biographies.
Another theme of development O’Neill cites is the men/angels present at the tomb when the women get there. Mark says that when the women get there, they see a man (16:5), Luke says two men (24:4), Matthew says one angel (28:1-2), and John says two angels (20:1-2, 12). How many were there and were they men or angels? The number is easily resolved by pointing out that this may just be literary spotlighting, i.e. Mark and Matthew are aware of more then one angel but don’t mention them. But were they men or angels? Notice Mark describes a “young man dressed in white” and Luke describes “two men in dazzling clothes stood”. White/dazzling clothing is regularly used all throughout the New Testament as a mark for heavenly visitation (e.g., Mark 9:3; Matt 28:3; John 20:12; Acts 1:10; 10:30. See also 1 Enoch 14; Dan 7:9; 2 Macc 3:26, 33; 2 En 1:4–11; Gos Pet 36, 55; Josephus, Ant 5:277). O’Neill doesn’t realize it, but later on, Luke outright calls the men “angels” (24:22-23). So why did he call them men to begin with? Because angels were often called “men” back then (e.g. Acts 1:10; Tobit 5:5, 7, 10). Clearly, then, all the Gospels are describing angels. So O’Neill hasn’t found any development here. (Although see here for a refutation of the odd claim that this white clothing is supposed to symbolize Jesus’ death and resurrection.)
O’Neill also says Matthew places little emphasis on Jesus being physically resurrected — though, this is irrelevant, I’ve already shown there’s no evidence of spiritual resurrection in earliest Christianity (or Judaism at all), and Matthew clearly believed in physical resurrection. O’Neill mentions that Matthew is the only Gospel that mentions an earthquake taking place during this time. Here, I’ll simply point out that in 2012, a number discovered of scientists discovered (see this paper in the geological journal International Geology Review) that a 6.3 magnitude earthquake took place in this region between 26-36 AD (the authors note the possibility of this being Matthew’s earthquake). So I wouldn’t discount the story too quickly.
We’re then told that the guard present in at the tomb in Matthew also appears to be a product of legendary development. Here, see the following academic defense of the story in Cambridge’s journal New Testament Studies: Craig, The Guard at the Tomb, 1984. These points are hardly as indefensible as O’Neill makes them out to be. O’Neill also claims another contradiction exists in the accounts — in Matthew, the tomb is rolled away after the women arrive, whereas it’s already rolled away in the other Gospels. But as Licona points out, the grammar of Matthew’s Gospel allows for a reading where the stone is already rolled away. O’Neill continues;
In the other two gospels [Mark and Luke], the women are specifically going to the tomb to anoint the body. This is strange, because the Jewish custom was to do this at burial – there is no evidence of people ever doing it afterwards. Given Jewish taboos about dead bodies, it is a very unlikely thing for them to do.
I’m not familiar with this topic myself, so I’ll assume O’Neill is right and that this detail is, at best, implausible in light of Jewish customs at the time. What O’Neill doesn’t bother doing is taking the next step and talking about how accurate the Gospels are as a whole in their description of Jewish burial customs. We’re about to see why. Byron McCane writes in his explanation of burial customs in 1st century Palestine writes;
As soon as death was certain, the deceased’s eyes were closed; the corpse was washed, and then wrapped and bound. According to the third-century C.E. Jewish tractate Semahot, men could only prepare the corpse of a man, but women could prepare both men and women. Literary depictions often suggest that perfumes or ointments were used for this washing. The body was wrapped and bound in strips of cloth. John 11 has such preparations in view: Lazarus’s “hands and feet [were] bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth” (John 11:44).
After primary burial, the procession returned to the family home, where expressions of condolence continued. Rituals of death continued for several days thereafter. Literary sources, including John 11, agree that for the first seven days, the immediate family remained at home in mourning. If mourners left the house during this time, it was presumed that they would go to the tomb. In John 11, Mary leaves the family home, and neighbors and friends assume “she was going to the tomb to weep there” (John 11:31).
Archaeological evidence has been decisive in the interpretation of some New Testament texts about tombs, graves, death, and burial. In particular, the saying of Jesus in Matt 8:21-22 presupposes secondary burial: “‘Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead” (a parallel passage occurs at Luke 9:59-60). Luke 11:47-48’s “tombs of the prophets” most likely refers to the monumental Hellenistic tombs in the Kidron Valley. And the Lazarus narrative in John 11 accurately represents typical customs of mourning, tomb construction, and grave wrappings.
Jodi Magness (who I mentioned earlier) is a world-renowned expert on precisely this topic, and is quite clear that the Gospel description is overall largely consistent with the historical evidence;
The Gospel accounts of Jesus’ burial appear to be largely consistent with the archaeological evidence. In other words, although archaeology does not prove there was a follower of Jesus named Joseph of Arimathea or that Pontius Pilate granted his request for Jesus’ body, the Gospel accounts describing Jesus’ removal from the cross and burial accord well with archaeological evidence and with Jewish law. The source(s) of these accounts were familiar with the manner in which wealthy Jews living in Jerusalem during the time of Jesus disposed of their dead. (pg. 171)
So, while one particular detail here and there may be implausible throughout the whole of the Gospel descriptions regarding the resurrection of Jesus, it’s evident that, by and large, the Gospels are rather accurate on the topic and that this supports the case for the resurrection if anything. Perhaps O’Neill was just tired when he wrote that, his answer is a long one.
Now, we can finally move on to perhaps my major argument. Rather than think of the argument myself, I’m just going to appropriate the evidence O’Neill provides. O’Neill offers this highly useful chart on to prove the ‘development’ of the Gospels. I’ll use the same chart to prove precisely the opposite.
There ya go, clear evidence that there is no decipherable ‘development’ in the sources at all. The order of the sources in this chart is Paul first, then Mark, Matthew, Luke, and finally John. There are 20 rows under the first row that describes which sources have which details, each row being devoted to explaining which sources contains which resurrection details. In the following, ‘Row 1’ will be the row with the Sunday appearances details, and the rest follow numerically. In the entire chart, the only details mentioned by Paul are found in rows 13-16. Why? An early stage in the later development? Actually, Paul is just writing letters to the churches addressing their various theological problems, rather than giving a detailed account of the events leading up to and surrounding the resurrection of Jesus. The other Gospels, however, are all biographies of Jesus and so we would naturally expect them to have much more information. In fact, the only details Paul qualifies for, rows 13-16, are from 1 Corinthians 15:3-7, which is an early creed Paul is quoting (“For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received”) rather than having composed himself. This means that Paul writes nowhere himself about anything of the history of the resurrection, instead just quoting a creed to summarize it for him. It’s therefore unsurprising why he has so little information. The topic of the history of the resurrection was secondary to Paul’s purpose in writing his letters, which was to deal with theologies issues in the early church instead of writing a biography of Jesus. It’s hardly methodologically sound to compare the biographical details of Paul, in his utterly non-biographical descriptions, to actual biographical accounts. Let’s try looking at the Gospels.
The Gospels all agree on the details in rows 1, 3, and 5, so no development there. Rows 2 and 7 are about the number of women and the angels, row 8 is about the earthquake, row 10 is about about who the women told when they learned Jesus is risen, and row 15 is about the appearance to the disciples, which I’ve already dealt with. The following will focus on the rest of the chart. Other than that, most of the details in this graph … show very little evidence of any linear development. For example, row 6 has a “rolled stone”. The first three Gospels (Mark, Matthew, Luke) qualify for this detail, but the final Gospel, John, mentions no such thing. So is the development happening in the inverse direction of time? Other details are totally ambiguous and no line of development can be made out. Row 4 is about the “anointing” (of Jesus): the first Gospel has it, the second doesn’t, and the third does, and the fourth doesn’t. Where is the ‘development’? Another phenomenon that takes place is that the Gospel in the middle, Matthew, mentions several details that no other Gospel mentions (rows 8, 9, 11, 18), Luke has two details mentioned nowhere else (rows 19 and 20, although apparently row 20 is ‘implied’ by John), and John, the latest of the Gospels, has one detail not mentioned in the other Gospels (row 12).
Taking a look at this, it seems to me that the distribution of details … is actually quite random. All Gospels have unique details, and there’s no clear evidence from this chart that the latest of the Gospels tend to accumulate in details nowhere present in the earliest.
One category that looks like development is row 20: Paul and the first two Gospels don’t mention an ascension, whereas the last two Gospels do. But if Jesus rose from the dead, He must have eventually ascended to heaven. This is hardly “development”. As for row 17, O’Neill makes another mistake here. Just like O’Neill didn’t realize that the resurrection appearances are implied in Mark 14:28, he misses that Mark 14:28 also implies that the resurrection appearances will be in Galilee. Therefore, Mark’s box for row 17 should be ‘Yes’. That means Mark and Matthew say Jesus appeared to them in Galilee, and Luke and John say Jesus appeared in Jerusalem. This could be a form of development if we are to say that Jerusalem became more important for the early church than Galilee, but this would have to be argued for, and O’Neill doesn’t give that argument. This does, admittedly though, look like a contradiction. The only unambiguous case of development that O’Neill cites in his whole post seems to be that the intimacy of each resurrection appearance continues to increase. And that, it seems, is the entirety of O’Neill’s case. At the end, O’Neill has pretty much nothing. The case made for the resurrection by Christian historians, such as in Michael Licona’s The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach (2010), is quite a lot more convincing.
O’Neill ends by taking a look at the psychology of the earliest Christians, claiming that the psychological evidence indicates that when expectations/prophecy of a religious group get dashed, they reinterpret the prophecy to make it out to be a victory or something. O’Neill writes;
The classic psychological study of this phenomenon is Leon Festinger, Henry Riecken, and Stanley Schachter’s When Prophecy Fails, which analyses a case study of a UFO cult that expected the end of the world in December 1954. When the cataclysm and expected alien rescue for the believers did not eventuate, the core of the cult managed to reinterpret the failure into a victory by saying their faith had led God to spare the world. So total failure suddenly transformed into a great victory. We can see various other examples of this phenomenon – eg the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ repeated reinterpretations of their predictions of the end of the world when it failed to happen or the reaction of New Age believers when the recent “2012 Mayan Prophecy” turned out to be wrong.
Just like with most atheists, it seems as if O’Neill has an isolated knowledge of Festinger’s extremely famous sociological study When Prophecy Fails (1956) without knowing that the whole case study has been shown to be a methodological disaster. Bermejo-Rubio writes;
To start with, When Prophecy Fails has been faulted on methodological grounds. The original observed phenomenon was not an uncontaminated series of events generated by a group in isolation. It was in fact mediated and studied by observers (social scientists and the press) and therefore subjected to interferences and distortions resulting from their presence. It has been remarked that often almost one-third of the membership of the group consisted of participant observers. More significantly, the social scientists themselves contributed to the events described. Furthermore, the media continually badgered the group to account for its commitment; thus, the increased proselytizing and affirmations of faith may have been influenced by media pressure. These conditions make it difficult to determine what might have happened if the group had been left on its own. A second problem is that the working hypothesis of the sociologists seems to have shaped, to a high degree, their perception of the events and the account given of the group, leading to an inaccurate report. That hypothesis involved identifying two phases, a period of secrecy in which the elect did not actively seek to gain followers or influence and, as a reaction to the disconfirmation of a prediction, a period of proselytizing. The portrayal of the group as merely based on a prediction, however, made Festinger and his colleagues overlook other dimensions (spiritual, moral, cultural) which might be crucial for the movement. (Bermejo-Rubio, Fernando. “The Process of Jesus Deification and Cognitive Dissonance Theory,” Nvmen (2017): 123)
Festinger’s case study of his UFO cult is therefore of no relevance. The only other example O’Neill gives, in the last 2,000 years, is from Jehovah’s Witnesses. With only one example and no actual additional discussion or citation for what happened with the Jehovah’s Witnesses, I’m not sure if O’Neill is doing anything but preaching to the already convinced in this idea of a sort of pervasive tendency of religious groups to reinterpret failed prophecies in their favour. Apparently, this explains why the Christians came up with the idea of a resurrected Jesus. O’Neill comes up with the convenient explanation that after having their hopes shattered by Jesus’ death, Jesus’s followers just looked at Isaiah 53 and just put the rest of Christianity together. A few years ago, O’Neill answered another question on Quora regarding who the Messiah claimants in Jesus’ era were (besides Jesus). The only one definitively known to have claimed to have been the Messiah is Simon ben Kosiba, who led a major uprising against Rome, and O’Neill points out that a number of these other characters may have been interpreted as Messianic figures as well. And yet none of their followers continued the cult after the Romans smashed their leader. If we actually look at ancient Judaism, we realize that when a group of Jews lose their Messiah claimant, they tend not to depict him as resurrected or continue the cult at all. This is a problem O’Neill runs into as he tries to overextend one failed case study to all history and all cultures.
Before Christianity, there was actually no expectation of a dead or resurrected Messiah among Jews at all, let alone one crucified by the Gentile Romans. If the followers of Jesus ever did come to some psychological conclusion in light of his death (the evidence suggests they wouldn’t have, instead, they would have just disbanded following Jesus’ crucifixion, as we’ve just seen), they would have never come to the belief that Jesus had been resurrected from the dead. Instead, they simply would have come to the belief that Jesus had ascended to heaven, like Elijah. There’s no reason why the early Christians should have come to the belief in resurrection or appearances on O’Neill’s hypothesis. Secondly, there’s another little detail O’Neill forgets that his thesis can’t account for. Remember, he claims that the followers of Jesus simply reinterpreted his death as a triumph in light of his death because of their psychological trauma … OK … what about Paul, who had never met Jesus and was a persecutor of the early Christians, who came to the belief that the risen Jesus appeared to him? What psychological trauma did he have when a preacher he had never heard of got crucified?
It looks to me like all this evidence in my point-by-point response to O’Neill is weakening if not fatal to O’Neill’s case against Jesus’ resurrection. And hallelujah for that. Enjoy a nice, long and excellent video on the evidence for Jesus’ resurrection by InspiringPhilosophy;