Greg Monette has people talking about the criteria used in the various quests for the historian’s Jesus. He wrote a post titled, “Why Jesus Scholars Should Still Use the Criteria of Embarrassment”. Rafael Rodriguez has responded with “Greg Monette on the criteria of embarrassment”. Then Christopher Skinner shared some reflections on what may or may not be an ideological shifts in historical Jesus studies in “Continuing the Re-Think the Criteria”. (Also: Earlier this month Michael Kok had some things to say about the criteria in “What the Criteria of Authenticity Can and Cannot Do” and “Integrating the Criteria with the Social Memory Approach”.)
While I won’t say anything dogmatic at this stage of my life I will say—regarding the criteria of embarrassment—that one major problem I have with it is that the examples given rarely prove that the Evangelists were “embarrassed” (see those given by Greg and my comment). I think it may have been Mark Goodacre who I once heard/read (maybe in his podcast) say something to the extent of “How do we know they were embarrassed?” Rodriguez’s post makes this same point.
Update: see James McGrath’s “Is the Criteria of Embarrassment an Embarrassment?”
the archives near Emmaus 
Debates about historical criteria are embarrassing really ….
Witty.
I like the criteron applied to the resurrection, where the crucial witnesses of the fact of an empty tomb were I think honestly reported to be women (at least in Mark and Matthew). I can imagine what the priestly enemies of Jesus made of female testimony.
And in this case, Brian, we might even point to Luke’s and John’s portrayal of male witnesses to argue that – yes, there is an indication of embarrassment in the fact that the two later evangelists made sure to point out the male witnesses. Whether the men saw the tomb or not as reported, the criterion justifies an inference that the early accounts probably told it like it was as far as they knew – the chamber was empty.
@John: That may be a good example of something that could have embarrassed later Evangelists. Now, of course, we must ask whether there is a difference between “embarrassment” and simply trying to make an argument one finds to be more sustainable, i.e., “why even mention the women if it won’t be convincing?” doesn’t necessarily equate to “I don’t want to mention the women because it will discredit our witness”, though it might. Then again, even if we might propose Matthew’s and John’s embarrassment we are thin ice (1) trying to prove an emotional impetus and (2) saying that this means we should establish something like a “criteria” to “apply” to various test cases.
Well all four evangelists mention the women, so who is asking your second hypothetical question? I don’t think any of the evangelists thought to themselves, “I hate to embarrass us, but here goes…” – rather the embarrassment is tacitly there in the honesty of the record. It was honesty and not pride that wrote the gospels.
Actually I subscribe to the ‘broken Mark’ thesis (lost ending) so I am not on firm ground in assuming anything that depends on what might have been if we had his full ending (including the possibility that it included ‘verification’ by the men).
But the criterion of embarrassment is only one of several in the critical tool box, and I mostly like it because it seems to weigh in with the dreadful critics who doubt the motives of the evangelists (or Jesus himself).
Sorry, I misread your comment as arguing that there was temptation to ignore/marginalize the women as the primary witnesses of the resurrection in Luke/John. Not sure why I used language that would indicate removal, altogether. I did the typing equivalent to hastily misspeaking. I see that the point you’re making is that Mk and Mt make it seem as if there were no male disciples as witnesses, at least until Jesus appears in Galilee, so Lk and Jn make sure to say more about the men in order to show that it wasn’t women alone who were eyewitnesses.
I still wonder how we might tell that Lk and Jn are “embarrassed”? It is one thing to sure up the argument by including males and something else to be embarrassed. If there was embarrassment then outright removal of the women might be the way to go, no?
But the main point of the embarrassment criterion is not the fact of embarrassment but the intuitive principle that an author’s committment to veracity must require inclusion of points that would not be included in a fabricated account which sought merely to convince and exalt. So we don’t have to prove actual embarrassment but only look for elements in the stories which would be hard to justify as exalted fabrications.
I’ve said before there there is a general trend in history to believe we are ‘more advanced’ now than then. This is anachronistic arrogance.
We have always had misogynists; we have them now; and we will have them in the future. The nature of mankind doesn’t change all that much, of its own accord. If that last statement is true, it is also likely true we have always had misandrists, just as we’ve likely always had philogynists. Without solid evidence women witnesses constituted a scandal it’s mere speculation to suggest that ancient culture had a problem with this or that modern culture is somehow more enlightened. Has anyone measure social quotient of misogyny, misandry, and philogyny?
So …… on what basis can it be said that having women witness Yehshua’s resurrection is/was a point of embarrassment and therefore can any historical argument be made on this? (Incidentally I’m not attacking the idea of using embarrassment as a historical selection criteria, but I am attacking the idea that doing so is trivial). Just because society was patriarchal (and the legal status of women changes over time), the Christ (Messiah) was clearly not a misogynist. Changing legal status of women is evidence of changing legal positions, not evidence of changing views of gender.
Which of his disciples, therefore were misogynists, and which ones weren’t? Who exactly was embarrassed by this, and what can we make of it all?
@Andrew: These are good questions. I think you’re right that we may wrongly assume that just because there are some examples of misogynistic bias against women as witnesses that this meant that it was the established cultural norm in all cases. Now, I’ve read arguments in favor of this idea, but I don’t have any literature near me to consult at this time to see how this argument is made, so I don’t want to get too testy with those who have made it. Yet I am tempted to say that we must be cautious when making this assertion because all it would take is a few examples from ancient literature indicating that the testimony of women is acceptable and suddenly we don’t have any embarrassment here of which to speak.
…or, more accurately, we can’t claim that it is a given that the testimony of the women would have been seen as an embarrassment. For some, maybe, but for others, maybe not.
@Andrew: “philogyny?”
@John, Indeed philogyny.
@Brian, indeed; there is nothing harder to live with than a good example (says Mark Twain).
Here’s an example: Rome practised infanticide (this is well known). Because a single Roman soldier instructed his wife to keep the baby if it was a male child, but to kill it if it was a female child – it has long been taught that Rome’s practice of infanticide discriminated based on patriarchy. But it turns out this isn’t true at all.
That letter from a Roman solider was but a single letter. Archaeological evidence of victims of infanticide show that the gender proportions between victims were equal, and thus a Hasty Generalization was made from a single letter.
I read your blog and the links indicated. To me the most interesting thing I read was the term you adopted to represent the overall task of these scholars. You referred, not to “the historical Jesus,” but to “the historian’s Jesus.” That seems to me a better way of labeling the “quest.”
But an even better way would be to split each theory up, similar to Michael Grant’s self-chosen label for one of his books. He wrote about “a — not the — historian’s” Jesus.
However, the best signification of all would be “a personal — not a historian’s — Jesus,” because many conclusions reached and expressed by these scholars (including Grant) are based on principles and feelings that cannot be objectively tested by agreed-upon, historical standards. (The debate over “criteria” illustrates the shifting sands upon which so many theses and theories stand.)
I think, on historical grounds, not much can be said about sources for the Gospels or about the specific pedigree of this or that narrative or saying. Historically, we can be certain that — in each of the Gospels — there is a legitimate concern to express what Jesus said and did that is based upon the impact he had upon the first generation of believers. I think we can be certain that Jesus acted and talked approximately the way he is represented in the Gospels and that these kinds of things happened, pretty much the way they are represented. Some later influences may appear here or there, but nothing fatal to the over-all concern for being faithful to the one who is proclaimed. And we will have to leave the matter there — as an expressed generalization — because we have no objective grounds for going much further, theologically or historically.
Having said this, however, if I’m a historian who is agnostic about God or miracles — or history — I may think that some majestic-to-mellow, naturalistic explanation for the phenomena of Jesus exists. On the other hand, if I’m philosophically open to the supernatural and to the potential impact that a magnetic, prophetic rabbi like Jesus would have, I may be content to let things stand as they are and feel myself personally confronted by what the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament are challenging me to believe.
I recently read a simple statement by a man named, Robert M. West, that summarizes some of my frustration with the microscopic analyses of the words and works of Jesus that have bloated bookshelves, magazine racks, and webpages. West wrote, “The Bible wasn’t written for scholars, but for sinners.”
I believe sinners — who are gifted with a little common sense, the ability to read (or listen) well, and the humility to look up for help in their struggling experiences — are the only ones who have the capacity to read and comment on the Scriptures with real insight and wisdom, whether they are scholars or not.
@Bobby, I like the distinction you draw between ‘historical Jesus’, ‘historian’s Jesus’, and ‘personal Jesus’.
In speaking of whether or not one is open to miracles, it’s an unfair constraint to presuppose historians restrict themselves to ‘naturalistic’ (physical) explanations (Mathematicians work almost entirely in the non-physical (metaphysical) world, as do many others.)
Jesus resurrection is well attested by any historian’s standard (Mike Licona) yet only a supra-natural explanation could sufficient in providing an explanation to his rising again. Yet, as any historian will tell you, we don’t possess professional criteria (or methodological) for differentiating the natural from the supra-natural (Well duh! If we presuppose no supra-natural events, why would we develop such a criteria?) Even so, this is a professional limitation … so scepticism apparently wins by default and knows no bounds ..
Bobby, I like your conclusion too. The best ‘historians’ seem to be the ones who also recognize themselves as sinners, whether privately or not. Unfortunately, these sort seem to be the exception.
@Bobby: Indeed, these are various ways of thinking wherein one accepts various limitations. So, I say “historian’s” because I think when one speaks as a historian there needs to be caution. One should try to embrace the same limitations they’d embrace if speaking about someone else, like the Buddha. Theologians have different limitations, obviously.
@Andrew: Well if “philogyny” indeed is in a Cicero quote (though a Latin-speaker) it must be good enough for the Internet. But I wasn’t able to locate it in my Eleventh Webster’s Collegiate, so I had to ask.
Seriously I didn’t think we (or the Greeks) needed the word (any more than we need a word for the love of breathing), unless the meaning implied is an excessive or obsessive love. But it wasn’t clear from your context that you were implying obsession.
@ Bobby: Even better might be “Any historian’s personal Jesus” – I’m thinking of an autobiographical piece I saw by Professor Crossan in which he refers to himself in younger days as a ‘peasant’ and a rebel. So nobody should be surprised that his Jesus book casts the main character as both.