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How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee Audible Audiobook – Unabridged
In an audiobook that took eight years to research and write, leading Bible scholar Bart D. Ehrman explores how an apocalyptic prophet from the backwaters of rural Galilee crucified for crimes against the state came to be thought of as equal with the one God Almighty Creator of all things.
Ehrman sketches Jesus's transformation from a human prophet to the Son of God exalted to divine status at his resurrection. Only when some of Jesus's followers had visions of him after his death - alive again - did anyone come to think that he, the prophet from Galilee, had become God. And what they meant by that was not at all what people mean today.
As a historian - not a believer - Ehrman answers the questions: How did this transformation of Jesus occur? How did he move from being a Jewish prophet to being God? The dramatic shifts throughout history reveal not only why Jesus's followers began to claim he was God, but also how they came to understand this claim in so many different ways.
Written for secular historians of religion and believers alike, How Jesus Became God will engage anyone interested in the historical developments that led to the affirmation at the heart of Christianity: Jesus was, and is, God.
- Listening Length10 hours and 35 minutes
- Audible release dateMarch 25, 2014
- LanguageEnglish
- ASINB00I8ON7XM
- VersionUnabridged
- Program TypeAudiobook
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Product details
Listening Length | 10 hours and 35 minutes |
---|---|
Author | Bart D. Ehrman |
Narrator | Walter Dixon |
Whispersync for Voice | Ready |
Audible.com Release Date | March 25, 2014 |
Publisher | HarperAudio |
Program Type | Audiobook |
Version | Unabridged |
Language | English |
ASIN | B00I8ON7XM |
Best Sellers Rank | #16,310 in Audible Books & Originals (See Top 100 in Audible Books & Originals) #11 in Christology (Audible Books & Originals) #18 in History of Christianity (Audible Books & Originals) #23 in Bible Commentaries |
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I would quibble with Bart about all the Gospels being written in Greek. Certainly the versions we have were written in Greek. But there is reason to think that Matthew, at least, was written in Aramaic and then translated into Greek. Some scholar, whose name I have forgotten, translated Matthew into Aramaic, and then back into Greek. In the process he realized that a lot of the phrasing, vocabulary, etc. was influenced by the Aramaic "original." The sources Bart lists (Q, L, M, etc.) may well have been in Aramaic--there's no evidence either way. St. Paul--clearly a Greek speaker--was very careful about the use of Greek words that translated Aramaic terms, showing he was aware of the underlying Aramaic. And although Bart keeps talking about the Apostles as illiterate peasants, I'm not sure they couldn't read or write. Matthew was a tax collector; doesn't that imply a degree of literacy? Jews of the time in general were expected to be familiar with scripture; doesn't that imply some degree of literacy? But of course we don't know one way or the other for sure.
As a conservative (I am a Cardinal Ratzinger groupie) Catholic, I see nothing in his arguments to contradict my own faith. Note that Bart cites Fr. Raymond Brown in this book as well as many others of his books. Fr. Brown's writings all had the "nihil obstat" and "imprimatur": official Church approval. And Bart and Fr. Brown see eye to eye on many issues. This may be shocking to more evangelical Protestants, so let me give some examples and reasons.
But first let me say that I am not a Biblical scholar, do not know Greek or Aramaic, and am not intimately familiar with all the nuances of various arguments. On the other hand, I have been a practicing Catholic for 66 years, took two years of theology at Georgetown (as we all did in the 60s), and have read a fair amount of theology since. But if some priest or bishop wants to set me straight on something, it's fine with me.
First, I agree with Bart entirely that you cannot divorce either Jesus, the Apostles, or the writers of the New Testament from their own time and place ("sitz in leben" or "setting in life" as we learned in theology class). They all talk and write as people of their own time, and thus some of their concerns (Does the actual body rise from the dead? Should we pay taxes to Caesar?) are concerns of their particular period of history. The surprise is, in fact, that almost all of the New Testament is so universal, and not bound up in its own period. In other words, it does not seem "dated," as even a US history book 50 years old would. The fact that there are different styles of writing shows that each writer contributes to his work--these are NOT dictations from God (see encyclical of Pius XII). To what extent certain passages are the writer's own is an open question. Scripture is "written by God," but (as Bart would appreciate!) what this means is not precisely clear. It is an evolving definition within the Church.
All canonical scripture is considered inspired. So if, as Bart says, certain passages were added later, or Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John didn't really write the Gospels, and St. Paul really didn't write all the letters attributed to him, the Catholic response is "So what?". If, for example, the passage about the woman taken in adultery is an addition, it is still considered inspired because it was accepted as part of the canon by the early church. If you literally believe that every word has to be absolutely true in every sense, and if your faith is based (as Bart's was) on the complete inerrancy of these texts, your faith obviously takes a beating when various contradictions, additions, etc. are pointed out. However, Catholics see scripture as only one source of faith. Another is the consensus of the believing community. If the great majority of believers believed x in the year 75, then we believe x too. It's the idea that the Holy Spirit is guiding the church as a whole: "I will be with you always..."
Likewise, the "exact" words of Jesus that the Jesus Seminar searches for so earnestly, and that even Bart yearns to discover (can't seem to shake that evangelical past), don't really matter. As Bart points out, John quotes various "speeches" that are all--in style--clearly written by John. Of course! Does anyone seriously think a shorthand stenographer was trailing Jesus around taking dictation? What is the story of the Prodigal Son (for example) about? Does it matter how many years the prodigal son spent away from his family? Does it matter how many cattle his father killed for the feast? Does it matter what the father said to him when he saw him for the first time? No. There is a simple point to the story: You can sin, be sorry, and be forgiven. That's it. The rest is embellishment and irrelevant. If some of the parables are told in slightly different versions, so what? The point they make is the same.
Having said that all scripture is inspired, there is evolution in the understanding of scripture. This, of course, is what Bart's book is about--how the understanding of Jesus developed. As a Catholic, I have no problem with the historical development of beliefs. This is precisely why theologians still write books! But there's one catch: once something is declared a dogma, you can't go back and change it. So, for example, Catholics believe that Jesus is God (with all the qualifications Bart pointed out). So a theologian can't come along and say Jesus isn't God. That would be heretical. But--this might surprise some of our Protestant friends--the Church is very careful and deliberate about declaring something an article of faith. For example, the belief in the Immaculate Conception (that Mary was born without original sin), was a commonly held belief throughout history, but it was only declared a dogma in the 19th century. To give a more modern example, if, as a Catholic, you want to believe in the miracles of Fatima and Lourdes, good for you. But this belief is not an article of faith--I personally am very skeptical of all these visions to shepherd children. But that doesn't make me a bad Catholic. It's my choice to believe or not.
Let's use a secular analogy to explain evolution of understanding: the US Constitution. Obviously those who wrote it in the 18th c. had specific ideas in mind, but, as with the writers of scripture, they were people of their own time. Their language is slightly different. What is a "militia" for example? Do "free men" include African Americans? And, while their concept of freedom of speech may have encompassed books and newspapers, they didn't know anything about the Internet and e-mail. That's why we have a Supreme Court: to decide what the Constitution means in the context of the present. It evolves over time (Dred Scott, the legality of wire tapping, etc.), and--just as in religion--words or concepts are given more and more precise meanings as people think about them. As Bart quite rightly kept saying, "In what way was Jesus God?" As you start thinking about it in more detail, you run into issues that weren't clear at first.
Finally, Bart makes a big deal of the various "contradictions" in the story of the resurrection: who arrived at the tomb first, who did they see (1 angel? 2? A boy?, etc.), and where did Jesus say he would appear to them: Jerusalem or Galilee? Again, "So what?". Bart should (and probably does) know better. Why were the Gospels written? To give a precise, historically accurate account of what happened? No. The authors couldn't care less. They were written to tell people about the message of salvation Jesus preached. And, of course (!) the authors were concerned to tie Jesus to Old Testament writings every chance they could, to show that Jesus was not coming out of nowhere, but was foretold by, and a fulfillment of, previous scripture. What is the essence of the Gospel teaching in the various stories of the resurrection? That Jesus rose from the dead; that his body (you can quibble about what type of "body" it was) was resurrected; and that by His resurrection He set Himself apart from previous prophets. Who saw him first, where he first appeared, whether there was one angel or two at the tomb--these are nice details and make a nice story, but they're irrelevant to the main message. In a similar way, fundamentalists get hung up on Genesis and the story of creation. It's a cute story that makes for nice children's picture books, but what, exactly is the essence of the story? Only two things: 1) God created everything. 2) Creation is good. That's it. All the other stuff really doesn't matter.
Those looking for a heavily detailed and annotated engagement with competing viewpoints will be disappointed, but Ehrman’s priority with this publication doesn’t seem to be to make a comprehensive case for his christological model. Rather the goal appears to be to conduct a sort of guided tour through his own conceptualization of the development of Jesus’ exaltation and the logic and evidence that led him to it. Stories at the beginning of each chapter about Ehrman’s interactions with the questions he explores lend a personal touch to the book by illustrating how integrated into his development as a scholar the question of christology is, but they also document some of the major steps in his journey from conservative believer to skeptic.
Summary
Ehrman’s guided tour can be divided into four main stops: (1) the continuum of deity in Greco-Roman period and Jewish literature, (2) resurrection and the historical Jesus, (3) exaltation and incarnation christologies in the New Testament, and (4) post-biblical christological development and extinction. In the interest of space, and in order to dedicate more attention to some specific aspects of the book, the remained of this review will briefly summarize the four stops and conclude with some thoughts about a few selected points and their strengths and weaknesses.
In the first stop, Ehrman takes two chapters to make a case for understanding ancient conceptualizations of deity not as das ganz Andere (“Wholly Other”)[1] in relation to humanity, but as occupying a continuum that could and did overlap with humanity’s own continuum. The first chapter highlights the more explicit illustrations of this model in Greco-Roman myth and literature, and the second attempts to identify the same divine motifs in Jewish literature. These continua were not so much defined by ontology as by power and authority.[2]
This discussion leads to Ehrman’s notion of a pyramid of divinity in which the highest god is also the most exclusive and the lower gods become more numerous with each descending tier. Jesus’ journey through divinity, it will be argued, fits well into this model.
The second main stop on Ehrman’s tour is the question of the historical Jesus. Divided into three chapters, this stop begins with the question of whether or not Jesus is represented in the earliest strata of the gospels as recognizing his own divinity. Ehrman concludes he did not, and even forwards the claim that Jesus did not originally identify himself with the Danielic/Enochic Son of Man. The next two chapters address those aspects of the resurrection Ehrman considers to fall (1) outside the purview of historical reconstruction and then (2) inside that purview. The foci of these two chapters are, respectively, Ehrman’s newfound doubt that Jesus was actually buried and then missing from his tomb, and the psychological processes that could account for likely historical visions of the risen Jesus.
Chapters 6 and 7 divide the earliest strains of christology detectable within the New Testament into two categories: exaltation christology (the view that Christ was a human who became exalted either at his resurrection or his baptism) and incarnation christology (the view that Christ was divine from birth—or before). The earliest of these must be teased from the preliterary traditions Ehrman finds within the Pauline writings, the Gospels, and Acts. Ehrman makes a somewhat surprising case in Chapter 7 for a Pauline angelomorphic christology in Galatians 4:14, which he asserts is an interpretive key that illuminates the remainder of the authentic Pauline texts. Importantly, he also highlights the pluriformity of early christology even within individual texts and the fallacy of linear treatments of its development.
The final stop along Ehrman’s guided tour traces the development of early Christian orthodoxy vis-à-vis Christ’s relationship to God. Chapter 8 describes the heretical christologies of the second and third century, and 9, those that paved the way to the ultimate declaration of christological orthodoxy: the Nicene Creed. An epilogue wraps up the volume with some discussion of the impact of Nicea’s christology on Judaism, Christianity, and the Greco-Roman from the fourth century on.
Engaging the Argument
Ehrman’s argument is generally well articulated and reasoned. The discussion is organized in an engaging and logical way, and the anecdotes beginning each chapter help personalize the research and connect the reader with the author. Ehrman has developed an accessible and engaging writing style over the years, which helps him to comfortably bridge the gap between trade and popular publications. No doubt he aims this book just as much at skeptical hobbyists as at believing Christians and critical scholars. The text is accessible to each, and in order to facilitate that, it’s not a thorough technical treatment of the christological question. This has caused concern for some readers, and particularly those in the more conservative camps who view Ehrman as an enemy combatant. Some believing readers may feel Ehrman’s goal in including them secondarily in his target audience is not so much to inform and complement their faith so much as to overturn it. The repeated emphasis on the dichotomy of history and theology, and Ehrman’s refusal to judge the latter, may as a result ring hollow and insincere in the ears of those readers.
In the interest of space, Ehrman omits a lot of competing viewpoints with which he could no doubt interact competently, but he also leaves a lot of arguments to be made by the few sources he cites. A number of responses have neglected to pick up on that, forwarding arguments that have already been addressed in those sources. This is most conspicuous with the arguments regarding a continuum of divinity and adoptionism in Mark, which he takes from a far more thorough argument offered by Peppard (who was influenced by Ittai Gradel—also ignored by respondents).[3] This is not to say, however, that he doesn’t ever gloss over some issues where they complicate his argument. As an example, the discussion of Apollonius does not serve as strong evidence of conceptual cognates to Christ given it occurred over a century after the gospels were published. The circulation of the Christ tradition within the Greco-Roman world likely had some influence of some kind on Apollonius’ development. His discussion of Pauline christology also seems overly simplistic and reductive, relying as it does on a single passage as a sort of interpretive key.
Elsewhere Ehrman’s language and argumentation does not appear well thought out. For instance, the sense in which Ehrman uses the capitalized “God” in reference to Jesus is often unclear. While it’s true one of the main questions Ehrman investigates is the sense in which Jesus was called “God,” he appears to switch back and forth between the generic and the referential sense, which makes it unclear if he is identifying Jesus with the being of God (a la Nicea) rather early in the development of his Christology. Some have accused him of being deceptive in this regard, trying to lull conservative and naïve readers into thinking he is more orthodox than he really is. I think that’s going a bit far, but I found myself wondering on multiple occasions if he meant “God” in the Trinitarian or the generic sense.[4]
Problems are most clear, however, in those places where he has changed his thinking or otherwise adopted a new position. His discussion of the historical Jesus is built on over a decade of research and interaction with the field. The first two chapters, on the other hand, present a case that Ehrman seems to still be working out. His presentation of the divine continuum and the relationship of Greco-Roman views of deity to those of Judaism could have been put together more clearly and forcefully. While the arrangement of three examples of the divine/human continuity in both Greco-Roman and Jewish literature certainly has a clear logic, the connections were rather vaguely made and required some conceptual massaging on Ehrman’s part (for instance, I’m not convinced angels were “incarnate” or “human” in those pericopae. Rather, angels were just usually conceptualized as anthropomorphic, like virtually all gods in the ancient Near East). I think the case could have been better made with just a few examples of more clear cases of divinization in Jewish thought (Jesus’ use of Psalm 82 in John 10, for instance[5]), or both cultures borrowing from the same conceptual matrix. Perhaps he could have actually quoted the words of the Priene inscription, rather than just explain that the inscription inspired his new position.[6]
I am also concerned with the cases Ehrman constructs for the lack of a burial (and thus empty tomb), and a Pauline angelomorphic christology. These arguments felt particularly thin. An angelomorphic christology in Paul appears constructed entirely upon one reading of one text, and it doesn’t quite fit well with the rest of the Pauline corpus. The argument for a lack of burial doesn’t fully consider the breadth of the textual evidence. Both these arguments are engaged directly and forcefully in the response volume, though, and I’ll let those authors make their case in that review.
Conclusion
I recommend this book to readers interested in the development of early christology and/or the intersection of that field with historical Jesus studies. The initiation to the field is of far more value, in my opinion, than that relinquished by a few methodological improprieties. In this sense, the response book serves as a helpful counterweight, even though I think its methodological shortcomings are more critical. Ehrman does not convincingly break entirely new ground, but I don’t see that as his purpose. Despite concerns, his approach is not anti-supernatural or anti-religious; his methodological sensitivity—even if not always applied—is pretty standard and uncontroversial. Having said that, Ehrman repeatedly dichotomizes between faith and reason, theology and history, and apologist and scholar, making it difficult to shake the sense that—despite his refusal to judge the legitimacy of faith claims—his inclusion of the faithful and conservative among his target audience is not altogether benign. That is a dynamic that will ultimately serve to increase interest in, and discussion about, his book, however, and in a book that straddles the boundaries between a trade and popular publication, I can hardly call that out of bounds.
Footnotes
[1] Rudolph Otto, The Idea of the Holy, 25.
[2] This was the subject of my second master’s thesis, “‘You Will Be Like the Gods’: The Conceptualization of Deity in the Hebrew Bible in Cognitive Perspective” ([...]). Ehrman no doubt is drawing here from Michael Peppard (The Son of God in the Roman World), who is highlighted in the acknowledgements as being influential on his position.
[3] See Gradel, Emperor Worship and Roman Religion. I have yet to find a single reference to Peppard’s book in the response.
[4] In one place he asserts, "Jesus is not God the Father in this Gospel" (272), which has nothing to do with any Nicene conceptualization of Jesus.
[5] Among others, see Jerome Neyrey, “‘I Said: You Are Gods’: Psalm 82:6 and John 10.” JBL 108.4 (1989): 647–63.
[6] See Craig Evans’ discussion for the relevance to Ehrman’s case: [...].
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Il libro presenta molti motivi di interesse. La materia viene trattata con competenza ed equilibrio; le posizioni dell'A. non si discostano in generale da quelle della maggioranza degli studiosi, ma sono chiare e ben argomentate; nel caso, viene dato il dovuto spazio al dubbio. Il richiamo ai testi è costante. Come d'uso, specie fra autori nordamericani, la trattazione viene intercalata da riferimenti autobiografici, forse con funzione di alleggerimento. Nel complesso, il libro è molto leggibile (purtroppo sono 370 pagine in inglese, ma si tratta di un inglese non impervio dal punto di vista sintattico e della terminologia).
Lo valuto fra i migliori scritti sull'argomento. Il libro è del 2014; chissà se verrà tradotto in italiano. Ma chi ha un vero interesse dovrebbe fare lo sforzo di leggerselo.
Sperando di fare cosa utile agli interessati, faccio seguire uno schematico riassunto dei punti trattati, cercando di riferire il punto di vista dell'Autore.
------------------------
Cap.1 e 2 – Non incommensurabilità fra il divino e l'umano nelle culture antiche (a differenza della concezione moderna che non prevede vie di mezzo): sia nell'Ellenismo che nel Giudaismo esistono stati o esseri intermedi in un “continuum”che va dall'umano al divino.
Cap.2 – Gesù non si identifica col “Figlio dell'Uomo” che scenderà dal cielo per il giudizio finale. Confida invece ai Dodici di essere re d'Israele, ovvero il Messia, in senso apocalittico (il tradimento di Giuda consisterà nella rivelazione ai sacerdoti di questo segreto).
Cap.4 – Sembra poco probabile che Gesù sia stato sepolto in un sepolcro (non verosimile il racconto di Giuseppe d'Arimatea): i condannati alla crocefissione venivano lasciati a decomporsi sulla croce, o tutt'al più sepolti in fosse comuni.
Cap.5 – La resurrezione cui credettero (alcuni fra) i primi discepoli si basa soprattutto su esperienze visionarie. Il racconto della tomba vuota appare successivo.
Cap.6 – I primi “credi” (identificabili in Romani e Atti) sono adozionisti: Gesù viene glorificato e adottato da Dio come figlio al momento della resurrezione. Ma Già in Marco Gesù viene adottato come figlio di Dio al momento del battesimo. In Luca e Matteo Gesù è già figlio di Dio dalla nascita (ma non le è preesistente).
Cap.7 – Paolo ritiene Gesù un “angelo preesistente” che si fa uomo in obbedienza a Dio e ne viene per questo ulteriormente esaltato: Dio che lo eleva e lo uguaglia a sé. Questa Cristologia dell'“incarnazione + esaltazione” è già attestata nel “poema dei Filippesi” (un inno riportato da Paolo nell'epistola ai Filippesi) risalente agli anni 50, ed è quindi sorprendentemente precoce.
Paolo crede che Gesù è Dio “in un certo senso”, ma diverso dal Padre. Neppure Giovanni identifica Gesù con Dio Padre, sebbene sia di pari gloria fin dall'inizio dei secoli. Nel Prologo (che sarebbe aggiunta posteriore) il Verbo è ipostasi di Dio; quando il Verbo si è incarnato è diventato Gesù (si nota che solo nel prologo si parla di Verbo).
Cap.8 – Varie interpretazioni di Gesù nelle chiese primitive:
-negano la divinità (Ebioniti)
-adozionisti
-negano l'umanità (Docetisti, fra cui i dissidenti della setta di Giovanni e quelli citati da Ignazio di Antiochia e Marcioniti, per i quali Gesù sarebbe disceso dal cielo con apparenza di adulto)
-negano l'unità fra Gesù e Dio (Gnostici separazionisti)
-etero-ortodossi (Gesù unica entità Dio + uomo, ma la spiegazione è eterodossa). Fra essi:
--modalisti (unica persona che può manifestarsi con diverse modalità)
--Origene (fra tutte le anime create all'inizio del mondo, uno solo, Gesù aderisce indefettibilmente al Padre e diventa Dio per assimilazione, come il ferro nel fuoco diventa fuoco esso stesso).
L'ortodossia è rappresentata da Ippolito e Tertulliano.
Cap.9 – I due “orto-paradossi” o paradossi dell'ortodossia:
-paradosso Cristologico: Cristo è Dio, Cristo è uomo, ma è un unico essere, non due
-paradosso Teologico: Trinità sono tre persone, ciascuna delle quali è Dio, ma c'è un Dio solo.
Il procedere della riflessione teologica fa sì che ogni nuova acquisizione faccia sorgere ulteriori problemi, che inducono ulteriore riflessione e richiedono una teologia con ulteriori sfaccettature, di regola più restrittiva e tale da far considerare non più ortodosse posizioni pregresse. Il risultato è che il pensiero della maggior parte dei padri risulta, a posteriori, “eretico”. Fra essi vengono trattati “a campione” alcune figure eminenti dal II secolo al concilio di Nicea: Giustino Martire, Novaziano, Dionigi di Roma, Ario, Alessandro di Alessandria (oltre ai già visti Ippolito, Tertulliano e Origene). Il Credo di Nicea fissa l'ortodossia, ma non la fine delle controversie; si citano Marcello di Ancyra, Apollinare di Laodicea, Nestorio.
This is one of the few books I will read again in the near future.
Das einzige Manko bei den Büchern von B. Ehrman ist: Hat man 3 oder 4 von ihm gelesen wird man in weitern Büchern wenig neues finden. Vieles wiederholt sich. Trotzdem, vom Inhalt sind seine Bücher extrem spannend.