Ehrman, Bart D. The New Testament: A Historical Introduction to the Early Christian Writings. Third Edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. Pp. 505. $49.95. Ehrman, Bart D. Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scripture We Never Knew. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Pp. 294. $30.00. Ehrman, Bart D. Lost Scriptures: Books that Did Not Make It into the New Testament. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. Pp. 342. $30.00.
Success witnesses remarkably to the work of Bart Ehrman, James A. Gray Professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (Ph.D., Princeton Theological Seminary, 1985). The centerpiece for this review, The New Testament, is in its third edition and is accompanied by two additional volumes, Lost Christianities and Lost Scriptures. Three things contribute especially to his success. One is that Ehrman writes as spiritedly as he thinks. So Jesus' inaugural sermon in his hometown in Luke 4 is certainly not a “smashing success,” but nearly a “smashing failure.” Remote history comes alive in entertaining and provocative analogies and contrasts. A good case is the contrasting of ancient religions, which lacked centralized organizations and creedal confessions, with many modern religions. Ehrman's summary of the Gospel of Peter in Lost Christianities is more interesting than reading the Gospel of Peter (and about as long). His account of the Nag Hammadi discoveries reads like Agatha Christie. Equally spellbinding is the narration of Morton Smith's discovery of a reference to the Secret Gospel of Mark and the oral report of Guy Stroumsa that he and David Flusser had seen the manuscript that contained it.
A second key to success is that Ehrman has his finger on the pulse of postmodernity. The core contention of his work is that in the early centuries of Christianity “proto-orthodoxy” battled with diverse forms of the religion and won. When Lyotard defined “postmodern” as incredulity toward any metanarrative (any grand scheme that determines how human beings should view reality), anyone's story stood on the same level with anyone else's. This outlook spelled death for intolerance and engendered valuing difference. In keeping with this outlook Ehrman calls for valuing wide-ranging varieties of early Christianity and their texts. So he consistently juxtaposes movements and texts that lost battles to become the dominant form of Christianity against a “proto-orthodox” variety that won the battles and whose texts eventually became the New Testament.
But the battles are not over. Ehrman's call for valuing diversity in early Christianities comes at a time when something comparable to proto-orthodoxy is calling for a canonical reading of scriptures. Whereas Ehrman colors the battles for canonicity with intrigue and deception, canonical critics such as James Sanders, Brevard Childs, Robert Moberly, and Christopher Seitz value the process and the product of canonization. They contend for reading the Bible not as a historical artifact of Western civilization but as the Church's book. With some obvious differences, the issues correspond to a debate one hundred years ago when Wilhelm Wrede argued against New Testament theology on two grounds: The issue for him was not theology but history, and the source material was not the New Testament but everything from early Christianity. Similarly, for Ehrman the subject matter is history and the source material is anything pertinent from the ancient Mediterranean world.
A third feature that contributes to his success is the wide range that these books cover without diluting the wealth of information with which they are packed. The New Testament especially is so rich in content that I cannot do justice to it even in an essay review. Aside from Helmut Koester's two-volume historical introduction, I know of nothing comparable in range and depth.
Like numerous other introductions The New Testament provides probable contexts of time, place, and circumstance and presents central features of each of the books of the New Testament. Most of this material is a matter of wide consensus that one can read in competing introductions. But both the subtitle and the contents of the book stand in a bit of conflict with a title that specifies the New Testament in that Ehrman presents the same kind of information for texts that did not make it into the New Testament. Some of these are the Acts of Paul and Thecla, The Epistle of Barnabas, the Letters of Ignatius, the Martyrdom of Polycarp, the Didache, 1 Clement, the Shepherd of Hermas, and the Apocalypse of Peter. Lost Scriptures repeats introductory material for all of these, provides English translations as well, some originally from Ehrman, and also gives introductions and translations of additional early Christian texts. Incidentally, most of these texts are available on the Internet, perhaps in other translations.
Ehrman's historical approach means for him that historians are limited by the canons of historiography from deciding religious truth claims. Consequently, he explicitly eschews issues of how faith is or is not related to history. This does not mean, however, that he abandons all value judgments. Jürgen Habermas contends that every author writes from ideology, that is, some kind of interest. Therefore, the notion of a disinterested historian is a ruse. Ehrman exposes some of the ideologies of early Christian authors. But in Habermas's terms, he cannot do so apart from his own interests, some of which he acknowledges. Two are quite evident: (1) The author wishes to unmask the notion of early Christian unity in order to demonstrate diversity. In fact before introducing the New Testament, the first chapter deals with varieties of second-century Christianity, which laid the foundations for the New Testament canon, and this diversity is exhibit A in Lost Christianities. (2) The author wishes to create a space for tolerance of differences. Thus, these books do not merely convey information but are appropriately provocative.
Especially apposite for this approach is a chapter in The New Testament devoted to the prominence of women in Pauline communities and the subsequent suppression and oppression of women in early Christianity. In a related vein, Judaism in its ancient varieties appears on its terms rather than in the terms of non-Jewish authors of antiquity, and Judaism receives appropriate status as the matrix of early Christianity. Likewise the historical Jesus is located within a Jewish apocalypticism.
Inasmuch as the principle aim is early Christian history, Ehrman correctly points to the gap between events and the writing of the Gospels—the words and deeds of Jesus were written “long” (more than forty years) after the fact by people who were not eyewitnesses. On the other hand, this is also too simplistic. At least Luke makes a claim for tracing traditions back to eyewitnesses (as Ehrman acknowledges). Further, it is one thing to ask, “is it conceivable that Christians could have made up a story that proved useful in a particular situation?” and to answer that “presumably people would have good reason” to do so. It is quite another matter to cite what can be construed as historical evidence that someone made up a specific story. Otherwise, Ehrman himself, as all historians do, is making up a story. Further, though modern media are certainly different from what they were in the ancient Mediterranean world, I myself could serve as a secondary source about Roger Bannister breaking the barrier of running a mile in under four minutes or the Supreme Court decision Brown v. Board of Education, Topeka, Kansas, events that are now fifty years after the fact. Further, I could give a firsthand account to some things that I personally heard Howard Thurman and Carlyle Marney say thirty to forty years ago. Ehrman himself gives an account of an alleged modern forgery published in 1950 by Paul Coleman-Norton, which is a secondhand account that derives from Bruce Metzger. Even though Metzger now has a published account, I assume Ehrman heard Metzger's oral account in the 1980s as I did in the 1970s. Moreover, in this very review I have passed on the oral tradition that Ehrman received from Stroumsa about Morton Smith's discovery of a reference to Secret Mark.
Too simplistic also is the representation of religious tolerance in antiquity. True, polytheism made room for adjusting to the gods of other people. But this hardly accounts for the mockery of the gods of conquered people, after the fashion in an earlier period of Cambyses, the Persian Shah who when he conquered Egypt, ceremonially slaughtered the sacred bull Apis at Memphis. It is not without significance for religious (in)tolerance that when the Romans conquered Jerusalem in 70
A third simplification is the very notion of a proto-orthodox Christianity that won to the exclusion of other varieties. One can hardly plot victories of a single variety of Christianity in a linear fashion over against others. Rather, different varieties participate in both wins and losses. Ehrman acknowledges as much when he shows that the boundaries of proto-orthodoxy were not static and that paradoxical formulations of creeds incorporate aspects of competing varieties of early Christianity.
In some cases the author demonstrates a fitting silence where evidence is lacking but in other cases speculates. Apropos to the evidence, a great deal is made of the anonymity of the Gospels, but then Ehrman speculates about where these anonymous authors wrote (virtually compulsory in New Testament introductions). In spite of “frustratingly sparse” evidence of early Christian persuasion in Paul and Acts, Ehrman speculates that a Christian testifying that praying to Jesus had healed her daughter might have led to conversion. In what sense is this “might” historical? Strangely, at the end of his consideration of the historical Jesus, where he is quite concerned with attestation, he speculates about Judas with no attestation.
Not only does Ehrman wish to give a historical account of the New Testament, he also strives to demonstrate interpretive models. Methodologically he is commendably eclectic—using whatever is productive for understanding texts. The basic method for Mark is thematic development and the characterization of Jesus, whose identity is enigmatic for other characters. Though Ehrman distinguishes among groups of Jewish religious authorities in Mark, like many narrative critics he assumes a continuity between opponents of Jesus in Galilee and those in Jerusalem, whereas they are obviously different, and when he declares that the proclamation of Jesus will not find fertile soil among Jews, this is not thematic development in Mark.
The basic method for Matthew is redaction criticism, which emphasizes perspectives of the author rather than themes in the text, especially by noticing how Matthew alters his Markan source. Thus, Matthew wishes to emphasize the need of Jesus' adherents to follow the Jewish law while opposing Jewish leaders of his day. Nevertheless, Ehrman does not neglect thematic development and presents an especially insightful account of the Beatitudes as assurances to those who experience God's nearness—the kingdom of heaven anticipated in Matthew 4:17. Ehrman shows good sensitivity in not allowing that the declaration of some Jews at Jesus' trial, “his blood be on us and our children” (Matt. 27:25), could ever mean that Jews who were not present would be held responsible.
The basic method for Luke is comparison with Mark and Matthew without concern for who used whom as a source, a method that avoids critiques of interpreters who do not accept Markan priority. Two major differences are that (1) in combination with Acts, Luke is the first of a two-volume set, and (2) each volume begins with a formal prologue like Hellenistic histories. Ehrman follows a conventional historical judgment that most Jews did not accept Christianity, and against this background he claims that along with Acts, Luke's Gospel shows how salvation came to be largely rejected in Jerusalem. This does not adequately account for Acts 21:20. When Paul returns to Jerusalem, he is told how many tens of thousands of believers there are among the Jews. Ehrman gives a typical reading of Jesus' rejection in Nazareth in Luke 4 as a rejection by the people of Israel that warrants the passing of Jesus' message to the Gentiles. I fail to see how Nazareth stands for Israel, and the comparative method demonstrates strikingly that in comparison with Matthew and Mark, with one exception, Jesus does not leave Jewish territory and carries out no mission to Gentiles.
Acts comes in for a thematic method. Here Ehrman continues the theme of Jewish rejection of Christianity and the passing of Jesus' message to Gentiles. But aside from direct dealings with Gentiles in Lystra, Athens, and Ephesus, nowhere is there a mission in Acts directed solely to Gentiles. The author is much more on target when he describes Acts as accounting for how a Christian gospel that stands in continuity with Judaism ceased being addressed only to Jews.
All four methods used for the Synoptics and Acts in combination with the sociohistorical method form the strategy for reading John. From distinctive characterizations of Jesus, Ehrman determines three strata that reflect three sociological settings: in the synagogue, excluded from the synagogue, and against the synagogue. This is a complex issue, but I think this goes too far. It is largely based on the use of aposunag
The predominant method for reading Epistles is to set them against their historical context. Though Ehrman uses the method for seven authentic Pauline Epistles, it holds also for the Johannine Epistles and pseudepigaphic “forgeries” (Ehrman emphasizes motivations involving deception). In spite of Ehrman's positive treatment of ancient Judaism, he interprets Ishmael in Galatians 4:21-30 as representing Jews who do not believe in Christ. Actually, the issue in this allegory is slavery and freedom rather than ethnicity. Both Jews and Gentiles can be slaves. Both Jews and Gentiles can be free. In the debate about whether Romans is written to deal with issues in the congregation like other Pauline Epistles or to give an account of Paul's Gospel to attain support unlike other Pauline Epistles, The New Testament advocates the latter. To quibble, twice the author claims that in Romans 16 Paul greets twenty-eight people by name. I count only twenty-six. Rufus's mother is unnamed, but she would make twenty-seven.
Ehrman makes Hebrews and Barnabas subheadings of a chapter on Christians and Jews. I find this enigmatic. Both documents are pertinent to the question, but they are hardly confined to this issue. How Christianity is related to Judaism is a subsidiary aspect of each document, hardly the other way around.
The format of The New Testament first appeared daunting to me—double columns on 7 ½" x 9 ¼" pages. But headings and subheadings break up the text. The book contains maps, timelines, charts, illustrations, and photographs—including a beautiful section of illuminated manuscripts—that keep interest sharp. Further, seldom do three pages appear without boxes that provide additional information. Two particular types of boxes introduce what readers should expect at the beginning of each chapter and recap the chapter at the end. Unfortunately, the boxes also lead to some redundancy (one gets Hanina ben Dosa and Honi the “circle drawer” multiple times). Redundancy is also a limitation in the main text (for example, Gnosticism is described twice).
A blurring of distinctions occurs in the discussion about the day of Jesus' arrest and the time of the crucifixion when the Synoptic Gospels are compared with John. Whereas in the Synoptics, the last supper occurs on the 15th of Nisan, it is on the 14th in John. Ehrman repeatedly says that the day is different. The day is actually the same—Thursday evening. Rather, the date is different, and because the lunar calendar depended on the sighting of the new moon, we have ample evidence in Judaism for competing claims about dates for festivals such as Passover depending on who claimed to have seen the new moon. Further, because there were different conventions for telling time in antiquity, it is impossible to say that Jesus' crucifixion at the third hour in Mark 15:25 is different from the sixth hour in John 19:14. From my point of view, Ehrman thus enhances his argument for the different day and time of the crucifixion of Jesus. Of course this is a modern counterpart of his claim that those who developed Gospel traditions did the same, and thus an indirect confirmation of the likelihood that they too enhanced their arguments.
Lost Christianities repeats a lot that already appears in The New Testament, sometimes word for word, sometimes over a number of pages. Occasionally a footnote indicates a reference to the earlier work, at other times there is no acknowledgment. A number of photographs with identical captions appear in both books. Incidentally, the fact that the photograph of both sides of papyrus fragment P52 is printed backwards in The New Testament makes it more difficult to read the Greek. The reversal of the negative did not occur in the printing of duplicate material in Lost Christianities. But the printing without acknowledgment of the same material in two books, even if they are by the same author, is problematic. If this is not plagiarizing from oneself, at least readers who purchase both books might want to ask Oxford University Press for a partial refund.
On one level, the success of The New Testament speaks to its usefulness as a text for college and seminary classes. Nevertheless, I raise the question of the efficacy of a purely historical approach. Every time Ehrman gives evidence that the New Testament does not measure up to the criteria of modern historiography, he confirms the inadequacy of history alone as appropriate for introducing this literature. The literature is thoroughly infused with who God is and how God is related to humanity and the world, categories largely outside the canons of historiography. I simply find it impossible to introduce the New Testament to students merely from a historical perspective.
Robert L. Brawley
McCormick Theological Seminary
© 2004 THEOLOGY TODAY ISSN 0040-5736.