Liar, Lunatic, or Lord? Reviving C.S. Lewis’ Trilemma

An argument for Christianity that seldom receives adequate attention is the Christological Trilemma, most popularly associated with C.S. Lewis [1], though also developed by other authors preceding him such as G.K. Chesterton [2]. In this essay, I shall give a survey of the Christological Trilemma, while supplying additional nuances to the argument as traditionally formulated. The Christological Trilemma is a two-step argument, the first of which is to establish that the historical Jesus made the provocative claims that he was Israel’s Messiah and God in the flesh. Having established this background premise, one may proceed to evaluate the relative merits of three alternative explanations as to why Jesus made these radical claims of himself — namely, that Jesus was lying, sincerely mistaken, or else the content of his claim is true.

Jesus’ Self-Understanding

Jesus’ Claims to be the Messiah

That Jesus claimed to be the Messiah is very well supported. Jesus’ Messianic identity runs consistently throughout Mark, John, and Paul. It is even found among the Q sayings (i.e., those sayings that are common to Matthew and Luke but absent from Mark — e.g. Mt 11:2-6; Lk 7:18-23). Moreover, Jesus makes his Messianic identity clear by his triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Mk 11:1-11; Mt 21:1-11; Lk 19:28-40; Jn 12:12-19), in deliberate fulfilment of Zechariah 9:9-11, which is widely acknowledged among the Jews to be Messianic. Moreover, Jesus explicitly tells the Samaritan woman that he is the Messiah. In John 4:25-26, we read, “The woman said to him, ‘I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things.’ Jesus said to her, ‘I who speak to you am he.’” Throughout the synoptic accounts, Jesus often sternly warns people not to publicly disclose his identity or speak publicly of his miracles (e.g. Mk 1:43-45; Mk 8:27-30). In scholarly circles, this is known as the “messianic secret.” We also see Jesus frequently seeking to avoid large crowds. Those features of Jesus’ behavior are illuminated by John 6:15, which immediately follows the account of the feeding of the five thousand, in which we read, “Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” Given the popular Messianic expectation of an individual who would overthrow the Roman occupiers and re-establish a Davidic reign (discussed more later in this article), Jesus naturally feared that public disclosure of his Messianic identity would result in misunderstandings and attempts by the crowds to make him king by force. Thus, John 6:15 explains the Messianic secret in the synoptics. But why does Jesus disclose His public identity to the Samaritan woman in John 4:26? And why does he not charge her to secrecy, as he does with so many others? Later Samaritan documents explain that their view of the Messiah (whom the Samaritans called the Taheb, or restorer) was different from that of the Jews, and was largely informed by Deuteronomy 18:15-18, which speaks of the Messiah as a prophet like Moses (the Samaritans only accepted the books of Moses as Scripture). Some evidence also indicates that the role of the Taheb included teaching. Jesus therefore had no reason to worry that the Samaritans would misunderstand his claim to be the Messiah, and expect him to lead a military revolution against Rome.

Jesus’ Claims to Divine Identity

We can, however, go further, since Jesus not only asserted himself to be Israel’s Messiah, but also made the much more provocative claim to divine identity. For this, there is both indirect as well as direct evidence. The indirect evidence is that Jesus’ immediate followers (e.g. John) and those who succeeded them (e.g. Paul) consistently affirm Jesus’ deity. This is surprising, given the Jewish milieu, unless Jesus made this claim of himself. I will begin with the indirect evidence, adducing two examples from John by way of illustration. Readers who are unfamiliar with the case for the fourth gospel being written by a disciple of Jesus might want to refer to my previous essay here. In John 1:1, the author writes, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God.” The Greek text says, Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν, καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος. The anarthous predicative nominative (that is, the predicate noun that does not have the definite article), θεὸς precedes the verb, ἦν. In Greek grammar, this is taken as a qualitative — literally, what God was, the word also was. As Daniel Wallace explains [3],

The most likely candidate for θεός is qualitative. This is true both grammatically (for the largest proportion of pre-verbal anarthrous predicate nominatives fall into this category) and theologically (both the theology of the Fourth Gospel and of the NT as a whole). There is a balance between the Word’s deity, which was already present in the beginning (ἐν ἀρχῇ … θεὸς ἦν [1:1], and his humanity, which was added later (σὰρξ ἐγένετο [1:14]). The grammatical structure of these two statements mirrors each other; both emphasize the nature of the Word, rather than his identity. But θεός was his nature from eternity (hence, εἰμί is used), while σάρξ was added at the incarnation (hence, γίνομαι is used).

Such an option does not at all impugn the deity of Christ. Rather, it stresses that, although the person of Christ is not the person of the Father, their essence is identical. Possible translations are as follows: “What God was, the Word was” (NEB), or “the Word was divine” (a modified Moffatt). In this second translation, “divine” is acceptable only if it is a term that can be applied only to true deity. However, in modern English, we use it with reference to angels, theologians, even a meal! Thus “divine” could be misleading in an English translation. The idea of a qualitative θεός here is that the Word had all the attributes and qualities that “the God” (of 1:1b) had. In other words, he shared the essence of the Father, though they differed in person. The construction the evangelist chose to express this idea was the most concise way he could have stated that the Word was God and yet was distinct from the Father.

 

Consistent with this, verse 3 indicates that “All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” Moreover, in verse 14, we read, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” There is probably an echo here of Isaiah 40:5 (“And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together”), particularly since Isaiah 40:3 is alluded to nine verses later (verse 23).

A further text in John that attests to Jesus’ deity is John 12:36-41: 

When Jesus had said these things, he departed and hid himself from them. 37 Though he had done so many signs before them, they still did not believe in him, 38 so that the word spoken by the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: “Lord, who has believed what he heard from us, and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?” 39 Therefore they could not believe. For again Isaiah said, 40 “He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they see with their eyes, and understand with their heart, and turn, and I would heal them.” 41 Isaiah said these things because he saw his glory and spoke of him.

 

Verse 37 is possibly an echo of Numbers 14:11: “And the LORD said to Moses, ‘How long will this people despise me? And how long will they not believe in me, in spite of all the signs that I have done among them?'” Verse 38 quotes Isaiah 53:1, and verse 40 quotes Isaiah 6:10. In verse 41, John adds, “Isaiah said these things because he saw his glory and spoke of him.” The antecedent of αὐτοῦ (“his”) in this text is clearly Jesus, as is apparent from verse 42 (“Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him”, in context clearly Jesus). John is alluding to the Septuagint translation of Isaiah 6, wherein we read in verse 1: Καὶ ἐγένετο τοῦ ἐνιαυτοῦ, οὗ ἀπέθανεν Οζιας ὁ βασιλεύς, εἶδον τὸν κύριον καθήμενον ἐπὶ θρόνου ὑψηλοῦ καὶ ἐπηρμένου, καὶ πλήρης ὁ οἶκος τῆς δόξης αὐτοῦ (“And it came to pass in the year in which king Ozias died, that I saw the Lord sitting on a high and exalted throne, and the house was full of his glory,” emphasis added). According to the Greek text of Isaiah, Isaiah beheld the glory of the Lord God in the temple. According to John, this was the glory of Jesus. Again, it seems quite unlikely that someone so close to Jesus, particularly given the Jewish milieu, would have come to the conclusion that Jesus was God unless Jesus made this claim of himself.

There are also more direct lines of evidence for Jesus’ divine self-understanding — i.e. the various explicit statements that Jesus makes as to his identity. Consider the following examples from John’s gospel:

• John 6:35 — “I am the bread of life.”
• John 7:37-38: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'”
• John 8:12 — “I am the light of the world.”
• John 8:58 — “Before Abraham was, I am.”
• John 10:11 — “I am the good shepherd.”
• John 10:30 — “I and the Father are one.”
• John 10:38 — “The Father is in me and I am in the Father.”
• John 11:25 — “I am the resurrection and the life.”
• John 14:6 — “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
• John 14:9 — “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”
• John 15:1,5 — “I am the true vine.”
• John 17:5 — “Glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.”

In addition to these sayings in the gospel of John, the synoptic gospels also contain highly provocative statements of Jesus. Consider the following examples:

• Jesus calls himself the bridegroom, recalling Old Testament imagery describing the God of Israel (Mk 2:19-20; Mt 9:15).
• Jesus claims to be Lord of the Sabbath (Mk 2:27-28; Mk 12:8; Lk 6:5).
• Jesus claims to be greater than the temple, prophets, and kings (Mt 12:6, 41-42; Lk 11:31-32).
• Jesus claims unique knowledge of the Father (Mt 11:27; Lk 10:22).
• Jesus claims authority to send prophets (Mt 23:34; Lk 11:49).
• Jesus claims to be the final judge (Mt 7:21-23; Mt 25:31-46; Lk 12:8-9).
• Jesus claims authority over all nations, and says “I am with you always, to the end of the age,” echoing God’s covenantal promise to Israel (Mt 28:18-20).
• Jesus, in the parable of the wicked tenants claims to be the Son of God in a unique sense (Mk 12:1-12; Mt 21:33-46; Lk 20:9-19).
• Jesus identifies himself with the Danielic Son of Man who comes with divine authority on the clouds of heaven and will sit at God’s right hand (Mk 14:61-62; Mt 26:63-64; Lk 22:67-70).

Not all of the sayings listed above are equally explicit, and some require familiarity with the background of the Hebrew Scriptures. For economy of space, I will not provide a detailed exegesis of all of these sayings. The number and diversity of these claims to divine identity, combined with the case for the high-resolution reportage contained in the gospels, provides compelling reason to think that Jesus indeed made this claim of himself.

Was Jesus Lying?

The foremost line of evidence against the thesis that Jesus was intentionally deceiving people about his identity is that not only was Jesus crucified on account of this claim, but he made his impending violent death a core aspect of his Messianic mission. It is easy to overlook, since we are so familiar, how astounding this is. Indeed, according to the four gospels, Jesus predicted his violent death no fewer than twenty unique times, in many of which Jesus explicitly connects his impending suffering with his Messianic identity. Here is a complete list:

1. “The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast,” (Mt 9:15; Mk 2:20; Lk 11:29-30).
2. “For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth,” (Mt 12:40. 16:4; Lk 11:29-30).
3. The Son of Man must suffer, be rejected, killed, and raised (Mt 16:21; Mk 8:31; Lk 9:22).
4. The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men, killed, and raised (Mt 17:22-23; Mk 9:31; Lk 9:44).
5. Jesus predicts his betrayal, condemnation, mocking, flogging, crucifixion, and resurrection (Mt 20:18-19; Mk 10:33-34; Lk 18:31-33).
6. At the transfiguration — reference to his rising from the dead and his “departure” (exodus) at Jerusalem (Mt 17:9; Mk 9:9, 12; Lk 9:31).
7. The Son of Man came to give his life as a ransom for many (Mt 20:28; Mk 10:45).
8. The anointing is preparation for his burial (Mt 26:12; Mk 14:8; Jn 12:7).
9. Prediction of betrayal — one of the twelve will hand him over (Mt 26:31-32; Mk 14:27-28).
10. Prediction of the scattering of the disciples (Mt 26:31-33; Mk 14:27-28).
11. The cup and baptism metaphors — his impending suffering is like drinking n cup or undergoing a baptism (Mt 26:39,42; Mk 10:38; 14:36; Lk 12:50; 22:42).
12. “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up,” (speaking of his body) (Jn 2:19-22).
13. The Son of Man must be lifted up (Jn 3:14; 8:28; 12:32-33).
14. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep (Jn 10:11, 15, 17-18).
15. A grain of wheat must fall into the ground and die to bear fruit (Jn 12:23-24).
16. The parable of the wicked tenants — the son is killed by the tenants, foreshadowing Jesus’ death (Mt 21:38-39; Mk 12:7-8; Lk 20:13-15).
17. “It cannot be that a prophet should perish outside Jerusalem” (Lk 13:33).
18. Institution of the Lord’s supper — “This is my body… this is my blood of the covenant, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins,” (Mt 26:26-28; Mk 14:22-24; Lk 22:19-20.
19. “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends,” (Jn 15:13).
20. “Shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me” (Jn 18:11).

The Lord’s Supper

In John 6:53-56, Jesus gives a difficult teaching about eating his flesh and drinking his blood:

53 So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. 55 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 56 Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

 

This saying, especially in a Jewish context, is difficult to envision being an invention on the part of the evangelists. In fact, it is such a difficult saying that it leads to many of his disciples turning away from him (Jn 6:66). Whereas John does not record the institution of the Lord’s Supper, where Jesus identifies the bread as his body and the wine as his blood, this is recorded by the synoptics (which do not recount the Bread of Life discourse from John 6). Thus, John provides the background that explains why Jesus’ words at the Last Supper would have been intelligible and meaningful to his disciples — they had already heard him speak metaphorically about eating his flesh and drinking his blood. Meanwhile, the synoptics give the actual institution of the rite, but not the earlier discourse. Lydia McGrew argues that [6],

[Jesus] was alluding cryptically to something that he would make clearer later to those who continued to follow him. This sort of veiled allusion would hardly be uncharacteristic of Jesus’ teaching as we find it elsewhere. For example, his words to Nicodemus about the Holy Spirit in John 3 would not have been clear to Nicodemus at the time but would have become much clearer in the light of Pentecost. The statement, “Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will raise it up” recorded in John 2.19 is glossed by John, in hindsight, as referring to the resurrection, but Jesus himself apparently did not explain it at the time.

 

This consistency with Jesus’ sometimes cryptic method of teaching, together with the later explanation at the institution of the Lord’s supper (present in the synoptics, omitted from John) is best accounted for on the hypothesis of historical reportage.

Paul on the Institution

It may also be observed that the apostle Paul also wrote of Jesus’ institution of the Lord’s supper, which contains an implicit prediction of Christ’s death (1 Cor 11:23-26): 

23 For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

 

It does not appear that Paul is directly dependent on the gospel of Luke here. Paul wrote 1 Corinthians around 53 C.E. A date prior to this for the composition of Luke would be incredibly early. Moreover, Paul explicitly says, “I received (παρέλαβον) from the Lord what I also delivered to you,” (1 Cor 11:23). Receive/deliver are technical rabbinic terms for passing on tradition, not for quoting a written source. This suggests that Paul is appealing to a received oral tradition rather than the text of Luke’s gospel. On this basis, Dale Allison acknowledges, “Mark and his fellow evangelists did not invent this motif.” [7] It may also be observed that the Greek text of 1 Corinthians 11:23 and Luke 22:19. Here are the two Greek texts side-by-side, with the differences underlined:

• 1 Corinthians 11:23: τοῦτό μού ἐστιν τὸ σῶμα τὸ ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν· τοῦτο ποιεῖτε εἰς τὴν ἐμὴν ἀνάμνησιν.
• Luke 22:19: τοῦτό ἐστιν τὸ σῶμά μου τὸ ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν διδόμενον· τοῦτο ποιεῖτε εἰς τὴν ἐμὴν ἀνάμνησιν.

As shown above, not only does Luke contain an extra word (διδόμενον; being given), but there is also a slight difference in word order (μού ἐστιν τὸ σῶμα vs. ἐστιν τὸ σῶμά μου). This further suggests that Paul is not copying the saying from Luke’s gospel.

Paul’s wording is very close to that of Luke, but varies from Matthew and Mark. Paul and Luke both preserve “Do this in remembrance of me,” and that Jesus’ body is given “for you,” neither of which motifs are present in Matthew or Mark. Matthew and Mark preserve the “poured out for many” motif, not present in Luke or Paul. This is indicative of two independent streams of tradition. 

It should be noted here that there exists both a longer and shorter form of the words of institution in Luke’s gospel. The shorter (Western) text omits verses 19b and 20 (τὸ ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν … ἐκχυννόμενον). The longer version is found in all Greek manuscripts (as well as in most patristic witnesses) except the fifth century Codex Bezae Cantabrigiensis. The longer reading, however, is more likely. As Philip Comfort explains, “Very likely, the Bezaean editor (D) was puzzled by the cup/bread/cup sequence, and therefore deleted this portion, but in so doing the text was left with the cup/bread sequence, contrary to Matt 26:26–28; Mark 14:22–24; and 1 Cor 11:23–26.” [8]

Jesus’ Messianic Identity in the Context of the Jewish Milieu

That Jesus made his impending violent death a core aspect of his Messianic mission is highly surprising in light of the first century Jewish milieu. Indeed, the Messianic expectation that prevailed at Jesus’ time was a militaristic figure who would overthrow the Roman occupiers and re-establish a Davidic reign. I do not mean to say that it was the lone expectation, but it was certainly the most dominant. There is an abundance of evidence for this both inside and outside of the New Testament. Indeed, the Messianic secret (particularly emphasized in the synoptics) revolves around this. Jesus is careful about who he discloses his Messianic identity to and urges people to keep it quiet. Moreover, he avoids crowds when possible. For example, Matthew 8:18: “Now when Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side.” This is explained by John 6:15, which can even be viewed as an undesigned coincidence: “Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” This Messianic expectation is also evident in Acts 1:6, where the disciples ask Jesus, after his resurrection, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” We also see hints of this expectation in the prayers of Zechariah and Simeon in Luke’s nativity narrative. For example, consider the following statements from the prophecy of Zechariah: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people and has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old, that we should be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us…” (Lk 1:68-71). Similarly, in the prayer of Simeon, we read, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel,” (Lk 2:29-32). There are even hints of this expectation in the Magnificat (Lk 1:46-55).

Outside of the New Testament, there is also an abundance of evidence that this was the prevailing Messianic expectation. For example, in the Psalms of Solomon, composed in the mid-first century B.C.E, we read [9]:

23  See, O Lord, and raise up their king for them, a son of David, for the proper time that you see, God, to rule over Israel your servant. 24 And undergird him with strength to shatter unrighteous rulers. 25–26  Cleanse Jerusalem from the nations that trample it in destruction, to expel sinners from the inheritance in wisdom, in righteousness, to rub out the arrogance of the sinner like a potter’s vessel, to crush all their support with an iron rod; 27 to destroy lawless nations by the word of his mouth, for gentiles to flee from his face at his threat, and to reprove sinners by the word of their heart.

       

A similar expectation is also attested by the War of the Messiah Scroll ( i.e., 11Q14, one of the scrolls found in Qumran among the Dead Sea Scrolls), which is dated to the late first century B.C.E. or the early first century C.E. Josephus also indicates that the popular Messianic expectation led to the revolt against Rome, and even suggests that the emperor, Vespasian, was in fact the true Messiah (recall that Josephus, though formerly a Jewish general in the revolt against Rome, ultimately switched sides and was adopted into the Flavian family). He writes (Wars 6.5.4) [10]:

(312) But now, what did most elevate them in undertaking this war, was an ambiguous oracle that was also found in their sacred writings, how, “about that time, one from their country should become governor of the habitable earth.” (313) The Jews took this prediction to belong to themselves in particular and many of the wise men were thereby deceived in their determination. Now, this oracle certainly denoted the government of Vespasian, who was appointed emperor in Judea. 

 

The Roman historian, Cornelius Tacitus, writes similarly of the Jewish-Roman war (Hist. 5.13) [11],

Some few put a fearful meaning on these events, but in most there was a firm persuasion, that in the ancient records of their priests was contained a prediction of how at this very time the East was to grow powerful, and rulers, coming from Judæa, were to acquire universal empire. These mysterious prophecies had pointed to Vespasian and Titus, but the common people, with the usual blindness of ambition, had interpreted these mighty destinies of themselves, and could not be brought even by disasters to believe the truth.

 

A later revolt against Rome, under Bar Kochba, in 132 C.E., was also inspired by the expectation of the Messiah (e.g. see Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.6, or Cassius Dio Epitome of Book 69). The Babylonian Talmud writes of Bar Kochba [12],

But as the death penalty had been decreed against all who occupied themselves with religious study and observed its precepts, and as this prohibition deprived them of their only source of consolation, they rebelled, led by Bar Kochba. R. Aqiba was the first to become his adherent, who journeyed from town to town, inciting the Israelites to rebel, and bringing them the message that a saviour of Israel had arisen in Bar Kochba, the Messiah.

 

Josephus also writes of a dozen or so Messianic pretenders, every single one of whom sought to cast themselves in accordance with this militaristic expectation. 

If Jesus were an imposter or a religious fanatic, he apparently decided to forego being this sort of Messiah (in accord with the prevailing expectations) and determined instead to be brutally put to death by crucifixion, arguably the most barbaric mode of execution ever devised. Not only was just willing to endure crucifixion on account of his radical claims, but he made it a central aspect of his Messianic mission. This is all very surprising if he was insincere.

Moreover, according to the Torah, someone who was put to death by being hanged on a tree was considered to be under God’s curse: “And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he is put to death, and you hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain all night on the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man is cursed by God. You shall not defile your land that the LORD your God is giving you for an inheritance,” (Deut 21:22-23). Indeed, in the second century, in Justin Martyr’s dialogue with the Jewish philosopher Trypho, Trypho said, “These and such like Scriptures, sir, compel us to wait for Him who, as Son of man, receives from the Ancient of days the everlasting kingdom. But this so-called Christ of yours was dishonourable and inglorious, so much so that the last curse contained in the law of God fell on him, for he was crucified,” (Justin, Dial. 32) [13] and “whether Christ should be so shamefully crucified, this we are in doubt about. For whosoever is crucified is said in the law to be accursed, so that I am exceedingly incredulous on this point. It is quite clear, indeed, that the Scriptures announce that Christ had to suffer; but we wish to learn if you can prove it to us whether it was by the suffering cursed in the law.” (Justin, Dial. 89) [14].

If Jesus’ objective was to persuade people falsely that he was the Messiah, there was not only no need to endure crucifixion, but it would be far more likely to turn people off from recognizing his Messianic identity. Thus, the case is extremely strong that Jesus was sincere regarding his provocative self-claims.

Was Jesus Sincerely Mistaken?

If Jesus was not a fraud or charlatan, how plausible is it that he was honestly mistaken? It is to this question that I now turn.

Was Jesus Nuts?

The most common argument against this prong of the Trilemma — which carries some force but is, in my view, often over-relied upon — is that there is an incredibly small reference class of individuals who could be sincerely mistaken about being God (that is, people who are insane and/or narcissistic). And Jesus’ behavior, as reported by the gospels, does not appear to fit that reference class. Jesus appears highly collected and mature, exhibiting sagacious wisdom as well as both intellectual and emotional intelligence. As G.K. Chesterton puts it [15], 

[A delusion of divinity] can be found, not among prophets and sages and founders of religions, but only among a low set of lunatics. But this is exactly where the argument becomes intensely interesting, because the argument proves too much. For nobody supposes that Jesus of Nazareth was that sort of person. No modern critic in his five wits thinks that the preacher of the Sermon on the Mount was a horrible half-witted imbecile that might be scrawling stars on the walls of a cell. No atheist or blasphemer believes that the author of the parable of the prodigal son was a monster with one mad idea like a Cyclops with one eye. Upon any possible historical criticism, he must be put higher in the scale of human beings than that. Yet by all analogy we have really to put him there or else in the highest place of all.

 

Jesus also does not seem to have narcissistic tendencies. For example, he washes the disciples’ feet, the very lowliest of tasks that was normally reserved for a household slave (Jn 13:4-5). This episode connects with an undesigned coincidence, since Luke, while making no mention of the foot washing (which is found uniquely in John) reports that there was a dispute over dinner among the disciples over who of them was the greatest (Lk 22:24). Jesus responds, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves,” (Jn 22:25-27). Thus, John reports Jesus’ object lesson in servanthood but not the occasion that gave rise to it. Luke reports the occasion that gave rise to it but not the object lesson itself. This undesigned coincidence confirms the historicity of the foot washing in John. The evidential force of this coincidence is enhanced by the fact that John does not appear to be textually depending on the narrative in Luke. Luke stresses the institution of the Eucharist, giving the words over the bread and cup. John entirely omits the institution of the Eucharist, focusing instead on the foot washing (Jn 13:3-17) and the extended Farewell Discourses (Jn 13-17). This striking divergence of subject matter suggests that John is not working from Luke’s narrative. If he had Luke’s version before him, his omission of the Eucharist words is unexpected.

Jesus, moreover, routinely deflects compliments. In John 3, we read of Nicodemus’ approach to Jesus by night. In verse 2, Nicodemus attempts to butter up Jesus with a compliment: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” Jesus answers him in verse 3, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” The reader is left to wonder, “Where did that come from?” Compare this with Matthew 8:19-20 (cf. Lk 9:58): “And a scribe came up and said to him, ‘Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’” Again, Jesus deflects a compliment with a remark that appears to come from nowhere. In Luke 11:27-28, we read, “As he said these things, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to him, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which you nursed!’ But he said, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!’” Again, we see Jesus deflecting a compliment. The  artless similarity of Jesus’ mannerism across these different occasions supports their historicity. These points, taken together, suggest that Jesus was no narcissist.

The above justification for rejecting the hypothesis that Jesus was sincerely mistaken has received the greatest attention. I am persuaded that this argument does carry some force. However, I think it is sometimes overstated. Though there is undoubtedly a vanishingly small reference class of individuals who might be sincerely mistaken about being the God of Israel, one may respond by noting that the pool of individuals who are in fact God is even smaller. I do not, therefore, believe that this argument can be relied upon on its own. Moreover, it is difficult to evaluate Jesus’ psychology, some two thousand years removed from his life and ministry. We must remember that it is difficult to determine what it was that convinced Jesus of his divine identity. I, therefore, offer a second argument — in my opinion far more significant — against the hypothesis that Jesus was sincerely mistaken about his identity.

Jesus’ Miracles

Jesus not only claimed to be Israel’s Messiah and incarnate God, but he also purported to perform miracles in attestation of his radical self-claims. On multiple occasions, Jesus makes an explicit connection between his miracles and his self-identity, asserting that his miracles functioned as authenticating signs to vindicate his claims of himself. His healing of the paralytic is said to vindicate his authority to forgive sins (Mk 2:1-12; Mt 9:1-8; Lk 5:17-26). Jesus points to his miraculous works as testimony that the Father has sent him (Jn 5:36) and confirming his claim to be one with the Father (Jn 10:25, 37-38). In response to John the Baptist’s question concerning whether he was the one whom the Jews have been expecting, Jesus cites his miracles (sight, cleansing of lepers, healing, and raising the dead) as fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecies and therefore evidence of his Messianic identity (Mt 11:2-6; Lk 7:18-23). Jesus declares himself “the resurrection and the life”, which is followed by the raising of Lazarus (Jn 11:25-42). Indeed, he prayed aloud that the miracle would vindicate his self-claims — “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me,” (Jn 11:41-42). Many of Jesus’ miracles, such as healing of paralytics or lepers or the blind, or turning water into wine, or feeding the multitudes (of five thousand men besides women and children) with five loaves and two fish, or the raising of Lazarus would, to say the least, require quite sophisticated sleights of hand to falsify. These sorts of miracles are, therefore, extremely difficult to be sincerely mistaken about. The most crucial aspect of this argument is establishing that the miracles reported by the gospels substantially represent what Jesus purported to do, as observed by those who witnessed those miracles. The evidence for the high reliability of the gospels and their grounding in credible eyewitness testimony certainly bears on this. In what follows, I shall consider more direct evidence that relates specifically to Jesus’ miracles.

Feeding the Multitudes

Consider, for example, the feeding of the five thousand. In John 6:1-5, we are told,

After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. 2 And a large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. 3 Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. 4 Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. 5 Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?”

 

Now, Philip is a fairly minor character in the New Testament. And one might, naturally, be inclined to wonder why Jesus hasn’t turned to someone a little higher in the pecking order (such as Peter or John). Perhaps even Judas Iscariot would have been a more suitable choice for this role in the account, since John informs us elsewhere that he was responsible for the money bag (Jn 13:29). Another relatively minor disciple, Andrew (the brother of Simon Peter) also gets involved in the reply in verses 8-9. Why does Andrew get involved here? 

A partial clue is provided in John 1:44: “Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from the town of Bethsaida.” Likewise, John 12:21 refers to “Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee.” What is so significant about Philip and Andrew being from the town of Bethsaida? We don’t learn this until we read the parallel account in Luke’s gospel (9:10-17). At the opening of the account (verses 10-11) we are told, 

“When the apostles returned, they reported to Jesus what they had done. Then he took them with him and they withdrew by themselves to a town called Bethsaida, but the crowds learned about it and followed him. He welcomed them and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed healing.”

 

And so, we are informed by Luke (who does not mention Philip or Andrew in this context at all) that the event was actually taking place in Bethsaida — the town from which Philip  and Andrew were from. Jesus thus turns to Philip, whom, he believed, would be familiar with the area. This also plausibly illuminates the involvement of Andrew (who was also from Bethsaida — Jn 1:44) in the reply. Andrew says to Jesus in John 6:9, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” One may conjecture that Andrew, being from Bethsaida where this miracle took place, knew the boy, or perhaps Jesus had directed his question to Philip and Andrew, both of whom were locals.

The reason for Jesus addressing Philip in John 6:5 is never explicitly spelled out in the text. Instead, one has to do the detective work of piecing together the clues drawn from John 6:5; John 12:21 (and 1:44); and Luke 9:10-17. This is precisely the sort of casual connection between accounts that one might expect to see in historical reportage, though it is more surprising given the hypothesis of fictionalization.

Curiously, Mark’s narrative describes the people as sitting down in groups on “the green grass” (verse 39). This is significant, not because Mark mentions people sitting on the grass (Matthew 14:19 also records people sitting “down on the grass”, and Luke 9:15 reports that “everyone sat down”, and John 6:10 notes that “There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down.”). It is significant because Mark reports that the grass was “green”. This is particularly intriguing when one considers that, in Israel (particularly in Galilee) the grass is brown.

What makes this even more intriguing is that Mark’s gospel (6:30-42) also states, in verses 30-31 that,

The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.

 

Mark casually alludes to there being many people coming and going, indicating the hustle and bustle and general business of the area during this time. But why were there many coming and going? Mark does not tell us. In John’s account, however, we are told that “The Jewish Passover Festival was near,” (Jn 6:4). This explains why many people were “coming and going.” Moreover, during the season of the Passover (i.e., in the spring time), there is a relatively small window where the grass is indeed green in that area, due to elevated levels of rainfall. Here is a graph, showing the precipitation in millimeters at the nearby town of Tiberias [16]:

As shown in the chart, there is a significant amount of rainfall in the months of November, December, January, February, and March. There is also a need for sunshine following the rain to allow for the “greening up” of a large space, as indicated by Mark. Spring time is when one might expect to see a large amount of green grass.

When this is coupled with the detail given to us by John that the Passover festival (in the spring) was at hand, this illuminates and makes sense of the casual (but surprising) statements in Mark that the grass was green and that people were coming and going. As Peter J. Williams notes, “Between the years AD 26 and 36, all possible dates for Passover ranged between the last days of March and the end of April. So if this event really took place at the time recorded, we should indeed expect that after the five most significant months of precipitation, grass would have been green.” [17]

The preceding two undesigned coincidences are further supported by the various marks of independence between the accounts concerning the feeding of the five thousand. For example, only John mentions the boy, and that they were barley loaves (Jn 6:9), which fits with the time of year, being near the Passover. Only John mentions that it was Andrew who brought the boy forward (Jn 6:8). Only John mentions the other name of the Sea of Galilee (the Sea of Tiberias), a name that we can confirm from other sources (Jn 6:1). Only John records how far the disciples had rowed when they saw Jesus coming towards him, which is given as an imprecise measurement of twenty-five or thirty stadia, or about three or four miles (Jn 6:19). Matthew and Luke both mention that Jesus healed people (Mt 14:14; Lk 6:11), a detail not supplied by Mark. Only Mark mentions that the disciples landed at Gennesaret (Mk 6:53). This fits with the account in John, which says that they set off for Capernaum (Jn 6:17). One could even view this connection as an undesigned coincidence between Mark and John. Matthew alone mentions that the reason for Jesus leaving with his disciples was that Jesus heard about the death of John the Baptist (Mt 14:13). This is at variance, though compatible, with the statement in Mark 6:31 that it was to get away from the crowds that Jesus instructed the disciples to retreat to a desolate area. The disciples, who witnessed the event, would have been able to draw their own conclusions about what had triggered Jesus’ desire to leave for a desolate place. Finally, only Matthew includes the account of Peter’s request that Jesus ask him to walk toward him on the water (Mt 14:28-31). This reflects Peter’s impulsive nature, a character trait that is consistent across all four gospels and across diverse episodes (see my article on artless similarities for further discussion of the evidential significance of this).

There are also apparent discrepancies (though with plausible harmonizations) that further point to the independence of the accounts. For example, in Mark’s account, the narrative concerning the feeding of the five thousand begins with the disciples returning from a preaching ministry to tell Jesus “all that they had done and taught” (Mk 6:30). Given the business of the place, Jesus told the disciples to “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” (v. 31). However, “many saw them going and recognized them, and they ran there on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them,” (v. 33). That the people were able to run on ahead of Jesus on foot and arrive before him fits well with the size of the Sea of Galilee, which is only seven miles wide at its widest point. The people came and met Jesus as he was getting out of the boat. Mark tells us that “When he went ashore he saw a great crowd” (v. 34).

Compare this with the account in John 6. John does not mention the disciples’ preaching ministry and their coming to report to Jesus what they had done and taught. Nor does John report Jesus’ instruction to “come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” However, John does indicate that Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which John calls by its other name, the Sea of Tiberias (v. 1). According to John, there was a large crowd following Jesus “because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick” (v. 2). Jesus went up on a mountain and lifted up his eyes and saw the crowd coming toward him (v. 5). If one were to only read John’s account, one would get the impression that Jesus had gone up to the mountainside with His disciples, and it was only then that He saw the crowd that had been following Him. Note that all four gospels mention the mountain in this region (Mt 14:23; Mk 6:46; Lk 9:28; Jn 6:3). Mark, speaking of the crowd that had followed Jesus, says that Jesus “had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things” (Mk 6:34). In Matthew’s account, we read that “he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Mt 14:14). In Luke, it mentions both that Jesus “spoke to them of the kingdom of God” and that he “cured those who had need of healing” (Lk 9:11). Thus, we are to picture Jesus having been with the crowd for some time prior to the feeding event. In the synoptics, we are told that when it was getting late, they discussed where to find food for the crowd of people. John, however, does not mention the earlier part of the day. It seems, then, that the crowds converged on him while He had slipped away with His disciples. John’s emphasis, though, is on the feeding through the miraculous multiplication of loaves and fish. The fact that these accounts, which appear upon first blush to contradict one another, fit together so casually reveals the independence of the accounts.

Another discrepancy concerns the question of whether Jesus went up into the mountain to escape the crowds and pray following the feeding of the five thousand before or after the disciples left in a boat. John 6:15-16 implies that it was before the disciples left in a boat, whereas Mark 6:45 says that “he made his disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, toward Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd.” The synoptics, however, do not state that Jesus escorted the disciples down to the boat and then went up the mountain. Rather, the gospels simply report that Jesus instructed them to get into the boat and go over to the other side. The instruction could have been given some distance from the shoreline. Indeed, it plausibly could have taken them some time to winnow their way through the crowd and reach the shoreline. Perhaps they could even hear Jesus dismissing the crowds, or Jesus could have informed them of His intentions.

John’s record of events does not in fact conflict with what we read in Mark, if one reads these events as occurring in a somewhat intertwined manner. It is quite conceivable that John’s mind was following the course of Jesus’ actions, and is picturing, as it got dark, the disciples approaching the shore and getting into the boat. That, however, does not entail that Jesus in fact went up the mountain first. Mark (or his source, plausibly Peter), on the other hand, may be thinking of the urgency of Jesus sending them away. If this is the case, then it is not particularly surprising to find the evangelists describing the events in a slightly different order. But this is precisely the sort of variation one might expect to see in independent eyewitness accounts.

Another striking feature of the narrative is the consistent distinction that is maintained between the number and kinds of leftover baskets that were collected in the feeding of the five thousand and the feeding of the four thousand respectively. John James Blunt explains, [18]:

[T]here was, no doubt, a marked difference between these two vessels, whatever that difference might be, for κόφινος is invariably used when the miracle of the five thousand is spoken of; and σπυρίς is invariably used when the miracle of the four thousand is spoken of. Moreover, such distinction is clearly suggested to us in Matt. xvi. 9, 10, where our Savior cautions his disciples against the “leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees” and in so doing, alludes to each of these miracles thus: “Do ye not understand, neither remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many baskets (κοφίνους) ye took up? Neither the seven loaves of the four thousand, and how many baskets (σπυρίδας) ye took up?” though here, again, the distinction is entirely lost in our translation, both [words] being still rendered “basket” alike.

 

This distinction between the words used for “basket” (κόφινος vs. σπυρίς) is also maintained in the parallel account of Jesus’ rebuke in Mark 8:19-20.

Blunt concludes [19],

[S]uch uniformity mark[s] very clearly the two miracles to be distinctly impressed on the minds of the Evangelists, as real events; the circumstantial peculiarities of each present to them, even to the shape of the baskets, as though they were themselves actual eyewitnesses; or at least had received their report from those who were so. It is next impossible that such coincidence in both cases, between the fragments and the receptacles, respectively, should have been preserved by chance; or by a teller of a tale at third or fourth hand; and accordingly we see that the coincidence is in fact entirely lost by our translators, who were not witnesses of the miracles; and whose attention did not happen to be drawn to the point.

 

Interestingly, the same word for basket that is used for the feeding of the four thousand (σπυρίς) is also used of the basket used to lower Saul over the wall in Damascus (Acts 9:25). This suggests that these baskets were quite large, which explains why there were fewer leftover baskets collected for this event (seven compared to the twelve baskets collected after the feeding of the five thousand).

In view of the aforementioned considerations, we can be confident that the accounts of the feeding of the five thousand substantially represent the miracle that Jesus alleged to have performed.

Healing the Blind

In Mark 10:46-48, we read the following account about the healing of Bartimaeus: 

46 And they came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a great crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside. 47 And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 

 

This raises the question as to how Bartimaeus know about Jesus. While all three other gospels mention Jesus healing the blind prior to this time (Mk 8:22-25; Mt 9:27-31; Lk 7:21), these healings took place up in the Galilee region, several days’ walk north of Jericho. In John 9, however, Jesus healed a man who had been blind since birth, in Jerusalem, which is much closer to Jericho. There is, moreover, an additional reason to believe that this miracle was fresh in the minds of the people in the region. In chapter 11, Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. According to John 11:37, some of the Jews said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” Clearly, the healing of the blind man was being widely spoken of.

It is also in the context of the healing of the man born blind that Jesus refers to himself as “the light of the world,” (Jn 9:5) and declares that “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind,” (Jn 9:39). This reflects Jesus’ tendency (exhibited throughout all four gospels) to draw doctrine or raise a discourse from the occasion then before him. See this essay for a discussion of the evidential significance of artless similarities in Jesus’ mannerisms, turns of mind, and mode of teaching across the four gospels.

The Raising of Lazarus

Besides Jesus’ resurrection, the most climactic miracle in John’s gospel is the raising of Lazarus of Bethany, in chapter 11. The text explicitly indicates that Jesus’ disciples were present for this miracle (see verses 7, 11, 15-16). The disciples were also apparently present for the dinner, recounted in chapter 12, with Lazarus and his two sisters in Bethany, subsequent to Lazarus being raised from the dead (see verse 4), where Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus’ disciples, speaks. Comparing the account with its parallel in Matthew also reveals the presence of the disciples (Mt 26:8). That the disciples were in Bethany with Jesus prior to the triumphal entry into Jerusalem is also evident from Mark 16:1. According to the account in John 11, Lazarus had been dead for four days prior to being raised by Jesus (v. 17). This is therefore a miracle about which it is particularly difficult to envision Jesus being sincerely mistaken about — especially given the fact that he, together with the disciples, purportedly had dinner with Lazarus after his resurrection. The statement that “The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume,” (Jn 12:3) is the sort of detail that one might expect to be etched on the memory of an eyewitness who was present. As with the feeding of the multitude, there are reasons to think that the account of the resurrection of Lazarus reflects the testimony of an eyewitness. Compare the account in John 11 concerning Lazarus’ two sisters, Mary and Martha, with a different account concerning the same individuals in Luke 10:

38 Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. 39 And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. 40 But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, 42 but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

 

The behavior of Mary and Martha, in these two accounts, accord with one another in subtle and casual ways, suggesting that the two different accounts accurately represent the personalities of the same two historical sisters who lie behind them. Peter J. Williams observes [20],

Luke gives us a cameo of two contrasting characters: Martha, stressed about practicalities, and Mary, sitting, listening to Jesus’s teaching and ignoring any of the concerns of her hardworking sister. It is easy to imagine these sisters as contrasting personality types: one an activist and the other more contemplative.
In John we see the same two women after their brother has died. Jesus approaches their village. As soon as Martha hears, she goes to Jesus, while Mary “remained seated” at home (John 11:20). Immediately we see a coincidence in the Gospel descriptions, not of the event but of the types of responses. In both Luke and John, Mary sits while Martha acts. In both, Martha does the welcoming. After meeting Jesus, the ever-active Martha secretly sends a message to her sister that Jesus is calling her. Mary then gets up quickly, and those with her think she is going to weep at the tomb (John 11:31). Coming to Jesus, unlike her sister, “she fell at his feet” (John 11:32—recall that she was at Jesus’s feet in Luke too). Jesus sees her weeping (John 11:33), though there is no similar record that Martha weeps. After arriving at the tomb and himself weeping, Jesus commands for the stone to be moved. At this point Martha says, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days” (John 11:39). This extremely practical concern misses the point that Jesus is about to raise Lazarus from the dead.

 

Thus, in both accounts, Martha is concerned with practical matters and is the more active (notice also that she is also serving at dinner in John 12), while Mary is more contemplative — positioning herself at Jesus’ feet. It does not appear that John is using Luke to create these subtle behavioral parallels (which most readers miss). This, again, is indicative of historical reportage — confirming that John was, as he purports to be, an eyewitness to this event.

Furthermore, in John 12:1-2,12-13, we are given a unique detail that is particular to the fourth gospel — that is, the specific day on which Jesus arrived in Bethany (six days prior to Passover), and that the triumphal entry into Jerusalem took place the following day (i.e., five days before Passover):

Six days before the Passover, Jesus therefore came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 So they gave a dinner for him there. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those reclining with him at table…12 The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. 13 So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!” 

 

A parallel account of the arrival in Bethany can be found in Mark 11:1-11 (although Mark does not give us the time-stamp that John provides):

Now when they drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately as you enter it you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it…7 And they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it. 8 And many spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. 9 And those who went before and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!” 11 And he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple. And when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve. 

 

Mark does not tell us that Jesus approached Bethany six days before the Passover, nor that it was the following day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem. However, it appears implicit that they fetched the colt early in the morning — since the disciples fetch the colt, there is the triumphal entry and Jesus and the disciples entered the temple and “looked around at everything” (which was presumably a whole day’s activities). If, then, we assume that Jesus entered Jerusalem five days before Passover, then we can begin counting off the days narrated in Mark’s gospel, to see if the narrative synchronizes with that of John.

Verses 12-14 narrate the cursing of the fig tree, which according to verse 12 happened “the following day” (i.e. four days before the Passover, assuming John’s chronology to be correct). Jesus then cleansed the temple and according to verse 19 “when evening came they went out of the city.” In verse 20, we read, “As they passed by in the morning, they saw the fig tree withered away to its roots.” We are now therefore at three days before the Passover. In Mark 13, we read of the Olivet discourse on the Mount of Olives. This we can assume took place in the evening, since the Mount of Olives was mid-way between the temple in Jerusalem and Bethany where Jesus and the disciples were staying. This, then, marks the end of three days before the Passover. When we turn over to Mark 14, we read in verse 1, “It was now two days before the Passover.” Mark and John thus calibrate perfectly, thereby corroborating the specific time-stamp given to us by John.

This coincidence is made all the stronger by the consideration that Mark and John appear to be relating these events independently — that is to say, John is not using Mark’s gospel as a source for this narrative. For one thing, Mark telescopes the narrative in Mark 11, and does not reveal that Jesus’ entrance into Bethany occurred the evening before his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. If you were to read only Mark you might come away with the impression that Jesus entered Bethany and Jerusalem on the same day, but this is contradicted by John, which gives further information (Jesus spent the night in Bethany before entering Jerusalem). Furthermore, Mark 13 does not explicitly state that the Olivet discourse took place in the evening, but this is something that may be inferred from the fact that Jesus’ accommodation for the evening was in Bethany (a detail supplied by John but not Mark) and the fact that the mount of olives is midway between Jerusalem (where Jesus had been all day) and Bethany where His accommodation for the evening was.

Perhaps the most compelling evidence of independence is an apparent discrepancy that exists between John 12:1 and Mark 14:3 in that John places the anointing at Bethany six days before Passover, whereas Mark appears to place it two days before Passover. John implies that it took place shortly after Jesus’ arrival in Bethany (before the triumphal entry into Jerusalem), while Mark implies that it took place after the triumphal entry. Craig Blomberg proposes that Mark is deliberately narrating events a-chronologically for thematic reasons since Jesus says that the anointing is for his burial (Mk 14:8; Jn 12:7). He notes that “Mark 14:3…is linked with verse 2 merely by a kai (and) and goes on to describe an incident that takes place at some unspecified time while Jesus ‘was in Bethany’. Once we observe that both Mark and John have Jesus interpreting the anointing as preparation for his burial, one can understand why Mark would insert the story immediately preceding a description of other foreshadowings of his death, including his last meal with the Twelve.” [21] Another idea, which also involves appealing to a-chronological narration, has been proposed by the late Steve Hays, namely, that Mark may have composed 14:1-2 and subsequently broken off his writing before returning to write concerning the anointing at Bethany as another episode that occurred during the Passion week (though not intending to connect it to verses 1-2 which state that the Passover was two days away). [22] However, on the hypothesis of a-chronological narration, one might have expected Mark to supply more information concerning what happened on Wednesday, prior to the discussion of the anointing at Bethany. Instead, there is almost no narrative in Mark between that careful chronological marker and the anointing at Bethany. All Mark tells us concerning that day is that “the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to arrest him by stealth and kill him, for they said, ‘Not during the feast, lest there be an uproar from the people,’” (Mk 14:1-2), but Mark has already indicated in 12:12 that “they were seeking to arrest him but feared the people, for they perceived that he had told the parable against them. So they left him and went away.” I am inclined to think that this represents a Markan sandwich, a literary technique used in the gospel of Mark where the author inserts one story in the middle of another (for a discussion, see this presentation by Mike Winger). Mark appears to me to be less committal on the chronology than John. In any case, this minor apparent discrepancy between John and Mark is less surprising if John is not using Mark as a source for his account of these events.

The Lame Man

Consider the lame man at the pool of Bethesda, who had been paralyzed for thirty-eight years (Jn 5:1-15). Jesus’ healing of this man prompted the challenge in John 7:21-24 concerning Jesus’ healing this man on the Sabbath. “I did one work, and you all marvel at it. Moses gave you circumcision (not that it is from Moses, but from the fathers), and you circumcise a man on the Sabbath. If on the Sabbath a man receives circumcision, so that the law of Moses may not be broken, are you angry with me because on the Sabbath I made a man’s whole body well?” Jesus point here is that, in Jewish law, the command to circumcise a boy on his eighth day took priority over the command to observe the Sabbath. If, then, it is permissible for the Jews to cut off part of a man on the Sabbath day, all the more should it be permissible for Jesus to make a man whole on the Sabbath day.

In Luke 13:14, Jesus is challenged about healing a woman on the Sabbath day — who had been bent over for eighteen years and unable to stand up. In verses 15-16, Jesus responds, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it away to water it? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the Sabbath day?” Here, Jesus compares loosing the animal to loosing the woman. The similarity in style reflects the turn of mind of the historical Jesus.

In Matthew 23:23-24, Jesus condemns the hypocrisy of the scribes and Pharisees: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others. You blind guides, straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel!” In this text, Jesus highlights the misplaced priorities of the scribes and Pharisees. They are more concerned about nit-picky matters of their interpretation of the law of Moses — leading them to measure out light-weight herbs with which to tithe — than they are about the heavier matters of the law — i.e., justice, mercy, and faithfulness. Jesus was not being hyperbolic — indeed, the Jerusalem Talmud indicates that this practice of tithing light-weight herbs is historical (y. Maas. 4:3). Notice, though, how again Jesus makes his point using a witty word parallel — tithing light-weight herbs vs. neglecting the heavier matters of the law. Again, we see the same Jesus across these different sayings reported in three different gospels.

Healing the Ear of Malchus

In John 18:36, Jesus says to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” However, earlier in this very same chapter of John’s gospel we learn that Simon Peter had in fact attempted to prevent Jesus’ arrest by fighting, cutting off the ear of the high priest’s servant (whom John uniquely identifies by the name Malchus) with a sword (Jn 18:10). How, then, could Jesus have made this statement to Pilate? Could not this man be brought forward with his face gushing with blood and his ear missing, as evidence that Jesus’ followers had in fact used violence? Luke uniquely gives us a piece of information that explains this — Jesus “touched his ear and healed him,” (Lk 22:48).

Water Into Wine

Jesus’ first miracle famously is at the wedding at Cana, where Jesus turned the water into wine, John is quite specific that “there were six stone water jars there for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons,” (Jn 2:6; emphasis added). As John often is, he is unnecessarily specific about the number of stone water jars, being six. One might wonder, though, why these stone water jars were empty rather than full. Empty jars are not particularly useful for the rites of purification. The explanation of this is supplied in Mark 7:3-4, which indicates that “the Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they wash their hands properly, holding to the tradition of the elders, and when they come from the marketplace, they do not eat unless they wash.” John does not take any time out to explain this background for his gentile readers. He just wants to move on with his story, and does not seem to care what is or is not common knowledge to his gentile readers. Indeed, the very fact that Mark explains this background suggests that it was not common knowledge. This suggests that this event is rooted in historical memory.

Jesus is Who He Claimed to Be

Given the sorts of miracles that Jesus purported to perform in attestation of his Messianic and divine identity, as discussed above, it seems enormously improbable that Jesus was sincerely mistaken about his radical self-claims. On the other hand, in light of the considerations discussed previously having to do with Jesus’ repeated predictions of his impending violent death and his explicit connecting of it to his Messianic mission, it appears highly unlikely that he was a deceiver or charlatan. Taken together, these considerations point powerfully in the direction of the contention that he really was who he professed to be — Israel’s Messiah and incarnate God. 

Notes

1. C.S. Lewis, The Complete C. S. Lewis Signature Classics (HarperCollins Publishers. Kindle Edition), 61-63. 

2. G. K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2022).

3. Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 269.

4. Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 473.

5. Lydia McGrew, Testimonies to the Truth: Why You Can Trust the Gospels (Tampa, FL: Deward Publishing Company, 2023), 30.

6. Lydia McGrew, Hidden In Plain View: Undesigned Coincidences in the Gospels and Acts (DeWard Publishing Company), 42.

7. Dale C. Allison, Jr. The Resurrection of Jesus: Apologetics, Polemics, History (Bloomsbury Publishing, Kindle Edition), 345..

8. Philip W. Comfort, New Testament Text and Translation Commentary: Commentary on the Variant Readings of the Ancient New Testament Manuscripts and How They Relate to the Major English Translations (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 2008), 232.

9. Rick Brannan, Ken M. Penner et al., The Lexham English Septuagint, Second Edition (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2020), Ps Sol 17:23–27.

10. Flavius Josephus and William Whiston, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987), 743.

11. Tacitus, The Annals and The Histories, ed. Mortimer J. Adler, Second Edition, vol. 14, Great Books of the Western World (Chicago; Auckland; Geneva; London; Madrid; Manila; Paris; Rome; Seoul; Sydney; Tokyo; Toronto: Robert P. Gwinn; Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., 1990), 298.

12. Michael L. Rodkinson, trans., The Babylonian Talmud: Original Text, Edited, Corrected, Formulated, and Translated into English, vol. 19 (Boston, MA: The Talmud Society, 1918), 10.

13. Justin Martyr, “Dialogue of Justin with Trypho, a Jew,” in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ed. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe, vol. 1, The Ante-Nicene Fathers (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Company, 1885), 210.

14. Ibid., 244

15. G. K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2022).

16. Peter J. Williams, Can We Trust the Gospels? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2018), 93.

17. Ibid., 94.

18. John James Blunt, Undesigned Coincidences in the Writings Both of the Old and New Testament: An Argument of Their Veracity (London: John Murray, 1863), 264.

19. Ibid., 265.

20. Peter J. Williams, Can We Trust the Gospels? (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2018), 88–89.

21. Craig L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of John’s Gospel (England: Apollos, 2001), 175.

22. Steve Hays, “Projecting Contradictions, Triablogue, January 11, 2018, http://triablogue.blogspot.com/2018/01/projecting-contradictions.html