Passing the time on a boring evening. No big woop. Here’s an
example of how internal evidence might lead one to surmise that more than one
author was at work in each of the New Testament Gospels, or, at least, that Jesus very
likely didn’t say much of what was attributed to him.
Jesus, having
been resurrected, comes to the house where the disciples had been staying
(locked in, “for fear of the Jews”). It is Sunday evening. Jesus’ resurrection
is immediately embraced by all who are present, save one—the Disciple Thomas
(“Doubting Thomas”). Thomas literally cannot believe his eyes; he demands proof
that the figure standing before him is indeed Jesus in the flesh. So he reaches
out and touches and feels Jesus body and knows the resurrection is real.
“Have you believed because you have seen me?” Jesus says, “Blessed are those
who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” (The Gospel of John 20:29
NRSV.)
Why would
Jesus say such a thing—that those who have not seen him yet “have come to
believe” in the resurrection are blessed. What would prompt that specific
remark? Earlier that day, at the tomb, Mary Magdalene had encountered the risen
Jesus and run to the disciples to tell them the news. John says nothing about
whether the disciples believed her. But she believed in the resurrection. Jesus
came to the disciples, and they believed in the resurrection. At this point, as
far as we know, there is nobody who has not seen Jesus who believes
in the resurrection—the word just hasn’t had time to get out. Israel in 33 C.E.
had no mass communication.
So why would
Jesus speak in the present tense about a group of believers who have yet to
exist? Why wouldn’t he say, “Those who believe without seeing me will be
blessed” instead? It would be easy to say that belief was spreading around
Jerusalem—John just doesn’t mention it. Or that Jesus knows something we don’t.
Those explanations, however, require us to read into the text things that just aren’t
there. No, all we have to go by is the text, and, according to the text, on Easter Sunday evening, the only
people who believed in the resurrection were those who had seen him. In that context, Jesus’
statement makes no sense.
Consider,
though, that the mainstream scholarly consensus is that John’s Gospel was
written around the turn of the century, 65-75 years after Jesus’ death. By that
time, it is more likely than not that nobody alive had seen the risen Jesus.
Perhaps a very scant handful of people managed to beat the long odds, live into
their 80s or 90s, and remember that famous day and year. In any event, it is
almost dead solid certain that anybody living in 100 CE who believed in the
resurrection took it on faith and only on faith. Those were days when the Church
had been persecuted from Jerusalem to Rome. It is easy to lose belief when
belief comes at the cost of an excruciating death. Those Christians may well
have needed some reassurance that their faith was not in vain. They needed to
know that there was a point to their suffering and that they would be
justified—blessed—in the end. In that context, it makes perfect sense that the
Gospel writer or editor would put these words of encouragement on Jesus’ lips,
not as a historian but as a pastor assuring a wavering Church that their faith
was in something real even if unseen.
Remember the Gospel writers were not writing history and they especially were not
writing up to modern historical research standards. They were writing theology.
I don’t think they would have had a problem putting words in Jesus’ mouth that
were consistent with his character and probably would have said in the
appropriate circumstances. Such projection happens all the time. It’s sort of
like the words, “Father, I cannot tell a lie. I chopped down that cherry tree.”
We all know that the cherry tree story was a total fabrication of Parson Weems,
yet the words ring true. Why? Because Washington could well have said them had
those circumstances arisen. They were totally within what we know of his
character.
