Tag Archives: Evangelicalism

Michael Licona on the resurrection of the saints in Matthew 27

Mike Licona's new book on the resurrection of Jesus
Mike Licona’s new book on Jesus’ resurrection: buy it!

Michael Licona, in his awesome must-read book on the resurrection, argues that the earthquake and resurrection of the saints story is probably not historical, but is instead apocalyptic imagery. Norman Geisler, another Christian apologist, disagreed with this view publicly, claiming that it compromises inerrancy. Must we accept that the earthquake and resurrection of the saints is real history in order to be inerrantists?

I got permission from Michael to post this Facebook note verbatim.

Full text:

Norman Geisler has taken issue with a portion of my recent book, The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach, in which I proposed that the story of the raised saints in Matthew 27:52-53 should probably be interpreted as apocalyptic imagery rather than literal history. In response, Dr. Geisler has offered strong criticisms in two Open Letters to me on the Internet. Until now I have been unable to comment because I have multiple writing deadlines, two September debates in South Africa for which to prepare, and, consequently, no time to be drawn into what would probably turn into an endless debate. I shared these first two reasons with Dr. Geisler in an email several weeks ago. Yet he insisted that I “give careful and immediate attention” to the matter. I simply could not do this and fulfill the pressing obligations of my ministry, which is my higher priority before the Lord.

Dr. Geisler questions whether I still hold to biblical inerrancy. I want to be clear that I continue to affirm this evangelical distinctive. My conclusion in reference to the raised saints in Matthew 27 was based upon my analysis of the genre of the text. This was not an attempt to wiggle out from under the burden of an inerrant text; it was an attempt to respect the text by seeking to learn what Matthew was trying to communicate. This is responsible hermeneutical practice. Any reasonable doctrine of biblical inerrancy must respect authorial intent rather than predetermine it.

When writing a sizable book, there will always be portions in which one could have articulated a matter more appropriately. And those portions, I suppose, will often be located outside the primary thesis of the book, such as the one on which Dr. Geisler has chosen to focus. When writing my book, I always regarded the entirety of Matthew 27 as historical narrative containing apocalyptic allusions. I selected the term “poetic” in order to allude to similar phenomena in the Greco-Roman literature in general and Virgil in particular. However, since Matthew is a Jew writing to Jews, “apocalyptic” may be the most appropriate technical term, while “special effects” communicates the gist on a popular level.

Further research over the last year in the Greco-Roman literature has led me to reexamine the position I took in my book. Although additional research certainly remains, at present I am just as inclined to understand the narrative of the raised saints in Matthew 27 as a report of a factual (i.e., literal) event as I am to view it as an apocalyptic symbol. It may also be a report of a real event described partially in apocalyptic terms. I will be pleased to revise the relevant section in a future edition of my book.

Michael R. Licona, Ph.D.

August 31, 2011

And then there is this addendum to the letter:

We the undersigned are aware of the above stated position by Dr. Michael Licona, including his present position pertaining to the report of the raised saints in Matthew 27: He proposes that the report may refer to a literal/historical event, a real event partially described in apocalyptic terms, or an apocalyptic symbol. Though most of us do not hold Licona’s proposal, we are in firm agreement that it is compatible with biblical inerrancy, despite objections to the contrary. We are encouraged to see the confluence of biblical scholars, historians, and philosophers in this question.

It has come to my attention that this matter may become a political/theological hot potato. The scholars on the list have stood with me. It was not my intent to amass a huge list. It was my intent to demonstrate that a significant number of the most highly respected evangelical scholars, all of whom are members of ETS, see no incompatibility between the position I took in my book and the doctrine of biblical inerrancy. The list has served its purpose. I have no desire to be the cause of pressure brought on those who have stood with me or on their academic institutions. Therefore, I have decided to remove the list of names for the present time at least. In no case, did an institution demand that their professors withdraw their names.

A number of scholars have suggested that this discussion is better played out in the theatre of an academic forum. I could not agree more! Southeastern Theological Review(STR) has offered to host a ‘virtual’ roundtable discussion involving several significant scholars commenting on my book. A main subject of this roundtable will be the raising of the dead saints in Matthew 27:52-53. This roundtable discussion(s) will be posted on the STR web site and will precede a full journal devoted to my book in the Summer 2012 edition of STR.

[UPDATE: Originally, Dr. Licona had included a list of incredibly conservative evangelical scholars but then asked for the names to be withdrawn, and replaced with the two paragraphs above.]

My take

I think that Matthew is using apocalyptic imagery in Matthew 27. I also think that if the event was historical, then it would have been recorded by Josephus or other historians. And I hold to inerrancy.

Dr. Licona is hardly a squish on doctrine, so I don’t think it was nice for Dr. Geisler to attack him in public like that. Bringing additional facts to a debate is permissible, but attacking someone like Dr. Licona over inerrancy is personal. Frankly if I had to choose who is making a bigger impact for Christ at this time, I would choose Dr. Licona. I haven’t read anything by Dr. Geisler in about a decade, nor has he been in any debates recently that I am aware of. I would not recommend his work either.

Learn more about Dr. Licona

Here is Dr. Licona’s web site. I have an autographed copy of Mike’s new book, and I bought another one for reading. I highly, highly recommend this book, but for students who have read an introductory book on the resurrection first. Here is the best introductory book on the resurrection of Jesus, authored by Michael Licona and Gary Habermas. Both books I would say are essential for anyone who claims to be a mature Christian. These are required reading.

If you would like to hear Michael in a debate with skeptical scholar Bart Ehrman, click here for the playlist. This is their 2nd debate, and Michael pwns Bart.

What my relationship with God is like

I regularly take my non-Christian co-workers and friends out for lunch to check on how their worldviews are coming along, and last week a comment I made at the table seemed to really get one friend’s attention. (The last time I got his attention like this, I had said that the example of Jesus’ life is instructive for us because it shows that it is OK to suffer for doing the right thing, and that it is not God’s job to save you in this life. Life isn’t about happiness. It’s about suffering for your allegiance to God). I can always tell when I hit a nerve because the person repeats what I said back to me.

So anyway, this time I said “When it comes to God, there are only two kinds of people. The first kind wants a real relationship with the real God who is there, even if this involves self-denial, self-sacrifice, and suffering. The second kind doesn’t want a relationship with God – they want to be happy in this life and invent new standards of meaning and morality based on their personal preferences that justifies their selfishness.” The context was that I was talking about how I was changing my mother’s approach to religious questions.

So, here’s how a relationship with God might develop, based partly on my experiences:

  1. You start off as a non-Christian with no interest in God.
  2. You attend to your regular life first by studying, working, eating, sleeping, etc.. Eventually, your situation is secure and comfortable enough that you begin to ask yourself the big questions in life. Does God exist? Is morality real? What is the purpose if life?
  3. You take some of your free recreation time and try to investigate these questions. This would involve studying world religions, science and history to determine which religion best satisfies the laws of logic and the facts in the external world.
  4. You decide God exists because of the cosmological and moral arguments, and you decide that Jesus is authoritative because of the historical case for the resurrection of Jesus.
  5. You realize you are in full rebellion against God and cannot hope to change this rebellion short of being “born again”, which would involve getting forgiveness and undergoing a radical re-prioritization of your life goals. You accept the sacrifice of Christ on the cross as payment for your sins.
  6. You scour the New Testament and theology books to find out more about what the character of God is really like, and you test everything you discover against the Bible, church history and the works of solid Christian scholars.
  7. You read about characters in the Bible like Caleb, Daniel, Joshua, Paul. You say to yourself “other people aren’t always happy when you stick up for God” and “God doesn’t always make everything work out for you in this life, when you obey him”.
  8. You start to get a feel for what God is like. There is no talking to God or hearing from God, or emotional highs during worship. You learn more by reading more about him and talk to people who are stronger Christians. You learn what he likes, what he doesn’t like. You begin to appreciate that God is different from you. You realize that God is trying to change you, which scares you a little. You say yes to God more and more, just because he is so interested in you, and because he is so intent on trying to change you. For some reason, his demands don’t seem to be too objectionable, and there is always forgiveness when you fail.
  9. You find that it is easier and easier to stick to moral rules in the New Testament, because of the sympathy you have for God. You are less and less interested in trying to achieve happiness in the here and now. Things you used to like doing don’t seem to be as interesting as things that you do as part of your relationship with God. You find that opportunities to do things relevant to your relationship with God become more frequent.
  10. You talk to non-Christians about God and realize that no one else is interested in whether God exists, or what he is like. You have less and less sympathy for other people and their selfish desire to be happy. You feel less and less pressure to change what you believe to make these other people comfortable – after all, they lost every argument with you since they have no arguments or evidence. You  wonder why other people don’t investigate these things rigorously, instead of just trying to be happy all the time. They are busy doing other things.
  11. Sometimes, the worldly success of non-Christians makes you feel inadequate. They have more time for getting ahead because they don’t take any time out for a relationship with God. But you stick with God anyway, and try to encourage these non-Christians to devote more time and effort to developing their worldview more carefully. You keep trying to love these other people, and tell them the truth with reasons and evidence, but the more they rebel against God, the more you find the doctrine of Hell is acceptable to you.
  12. You start making a long-term plan about something you want to achieve for God, e.g. – you plan to get two Ph.Ds in Physics and Philosophy from Stanford and Oxford, learn to debate like William Lane Craig, and defeat Richard Dawkins in a public debate, thus dealing atheism a blow from which it will never recover. (My actual plan is described here) This plan isn’t just dull stuff like following the ten commandments and other moral rules. This is different. This is you planning out something completely new. Your plan is consistent with Bible, but it goes beyond the rules. It’s not a private plan. It’s not meant to make you feel happy. It’s a public plan. It’s designed to be effective.
  13. You love your plan. You smile, laugh and whistle a lot everywhere you go because you are so excited about your plan. People think you are very happy, but you actually feel sad, lonely and worried about being silenced or persecuted by the secular left. The plan is a lot of work, and you could do a much better job of pursuing happiness if you just dropped the whole thing. But you don’t.
  14. Your entire family and most of your friends, including other Christians, don’t recognize or value your plan. The Church opposes you at every turn, thinking that Christianity is about ignoring apologetics and theology, and making non-Christians feel happy about their rebellion against God. You notice that not everyone approves of your priorities, but you keep going with your plan anyway.
  15. You test to see if God is interested in supporting your plan by taking some small steps and watching to see if you are successful. You are successful, but progress is very slow.
  16. You give up more and more of your happiness and selfishness as you work steadily on your plan. You face opposition from non-Christians who attack you in the academy and the workplace. You face opposition from fake Christians who vote for laws and policies that rob you of your wealth and your rights, including the rights of free speech and religious liberty. Everyone who knows you well likes you, but they don’t really seriously seek after God. People who don’t know know you well sometimes persecute you because they are offended by your disagreement with them.
  17. You only achieve a tiny measure of what you set out to do before dying.
  18. On the day of Judgment, you get a resurrection body and eternal life with your best Friend. The appearance of your resurrection body reflects the plan that you chose, and everyone in Heaven recognizes you at last. You meet all the people who helped you. And you meet all the people who you helped. It turns out that you had an impact far beyond what you had thought when you were alive.
  19. Every sacrifice that you made on Earth that seemed so terrible to bear is repaid by God many time over in ways you could never imagine.
  20. Finally, for the first time in your life, you are truly happy.

Does this sound like you? If it does, then we’re on the same battlefield. Put your back to mine and let’s stand together.

But the Consul’s brow was sad, and the Consul’s speech was low,
And darkly looked he at the wall, and darkly at the foe.
“Their van will be upon us before the bridge goes down;
And if they once might win the bridge, what hope to save the town?”

Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate:
“To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late;
And how can man die better than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods,

And for the tender mother who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses his baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens who feed the eternal flame,
To save them from false Sextus, that wrought the deed of shame?

Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may!
I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path, a thousand may well be stopped by three:
Now, who will stand on either hand and keep the bridge with me?

Here are some lectures that helped me to form my views about the Christian life. My testimony is here.

Is the concept of moral obligation intelligible on atheistic materialism?

Commenter ECM sent me this post from Uncommon Descent about the is-ought fallacy, and the difficulties that atheists have grounding morality on worldview in which only material things exist. The post is written by Barry Arrington. He is summarizes an argument based on some of the comments from an earlier post.

Barry introduces two assumptions:

(1) That atheistic naturalism is true.

(2) One can’t infer an “ought” from an “is.” Richard Dawkins and many other atheists should grant both of these assumptions.

Given our second assumption, there is nothing in the natural world from which we can infer an “ought.” And given our first assumption, there is nothing that exists over and above the natural world; the natural world is all that there is. It follows logically that, for any action you care to pick, there’s nothing in the natural world from which we can infer that one ought to refrain from performing that action.

This makes sense to me. If only matter exists, and the whole universe is an accident, then where would an atheist get this idea that the current arrangement of matter ought to be any other way? Matter just is. This concept of “ought to be” is totally alien to an atheistic worldview where everything is matter, because moral obligations are non-material.

The article goes on: (I added the number 3)

Add a further uncontroversial assumption: (3) an action is permissible if and only if it’s not the case that one ought to refrain from performing that action. This is just the standard inferential scheme for formal deontic logic.

Basically, he is saying that an action is permissible so long as there is no moral obligation against that action. Can you see what’s coming? (I added the number 4)

We’ve conformed to standard principles and inference rules of logic and we’ve started out with assumptions that atheists have conceded. And yet we reach the absurd conclusion: (4) therefore, for any action you care to pick, it’s permissible to perform that action.

And let’s be clear about why this is bad for atheists:

If you’d like, you can take this as the meat behind the slogan “if atheism is true, all things are permitted.” For example if atheism is true, every action Hitler performed was permissible. Many atheists don’t like this consequence of their worldview. But they cannot escape it and insist that they are being logical at the same time.

Let me just add one more point. How are we supposed to be morally obligated to perform any action if we are pure matter? Meat machines don’t have free will. We would just be strings of dominoes falling forward, with no choice whether to fall or not. And even if we could somehow choose, our choices have no ultimate moral significance.

So, what does morality mean to atheists, then?

A while back, I listed some quotes about morality on atheism, taken from atheists who have actually thought through the consequences of atheism for rational moral behavior.

Here is a quotation from Richard Dawkins:

In a universe of blind physical forces and genetic replication, some people are going to get hurt, other people are going to get lucky, and you won’t find any rhyme or reason in it, or any justice. The universe that we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference… DNA neither knows nor cares. DNA just is. And we dance to its music.

Of course, atheists can sense the objective moral standard that God has built into every person. But their materialist worldview undercuts the meaningfulness of moral values, moral duties and moral accountability. And people just don’t act morally once morality has become irrational for them. Acting morally is hard.

What ends up happening to atheists is that they only do the right thing for pleasure, or to avoid social punishments. Once the pre-supposition of materialism has destroyed the rationality of morality, it becomes impossible for atheists to answer the question “Why be moral?”. Any atheist who continues to act morally is living inconsistently with their own worldview – and that is not sustainable in the long run.

Atheistic assumptions wear down the awareness of the moral law that atheists started out with, so that they begin to advocate for obviously immoral things, like the suppression of freedom of inquiry. Eventually, the guilt becomes so strong that they exchange authentic moral values like chastity and sobriety for cheap narcissistic fads like recycling and yoga.

The case of William Wilberforce

Consider this article from the Wall Street Journal about the abolitionist William Wilberforce.

In fact, William Wilberforce was driven by a version of Christianity that today would be derided as “fundamentalist.”

…William Wilberforce himself, as a student at Cambridge University in the 1770s and as a young member of Parliament soon after, had no more than a nominal sense of faith. Then, in 1785, he began reading evangelical treatises and underwent what he called “the Great Change,” almost dropping out of politics to study for the ministry until friends persuaded him that he could do more good where he was.

And he did a great deal of good…[h]is relentless campaign eventually led Parliament to ban the slave trade, in 1807, and to pass a law shortly after his death in 1833, making the entire institution of slavery illegal. But it is impossible to understand Wilberforce’s long antislavery campaign without seeing it as part of a larger Christian impulse. The man who prodded Parliament so famously also wrote theological tracts, sponsored missionary and charitable works, and fought for what he called the “reformation of manners,” a campaign against vice.

Even during the 18th century, evangelicals were derided as over-emotional “enthusiasts” by their Enlightenment-influenced contemporaries. By the time of Wilberforce’s “great change,” liberal 18th-century theologians had sought to make Christianity more “reasonable,” de-emphasizing sin, salvation and Christ’s divinity in favor of ethics, morality and a rather distant, deistic God. Relatedly, large numbers of ordinary English people, especially among the working classes, had begun drifting away from the tepid Christianity that seemed to prevail. Evangelicalism sought to counter such trends and to reinvigorate Christian belief.

…Perhaps the leading evangelical force of the day was the Methodism of John Wesley: It focused on preaching, the close study of the Bible, communal hymn-singing and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Central to the Methodist project was the notion that good works and charity were essential components of the Christian life. Methodism spawned a vast network of churches and ramified into the evangelical branches of Anglicanism. Nearly all the social-reform movements of the 19th and early 20th centuries–from temperance and soup kitchens to slum settlement houses and prison reform–owe something to Methodism and its related evangelical strains. The campaign against slavery was the most momentous of such reforms and, over time, the most successful.It is thus fitting that John Wesley happened to write his last letter–sent in February 1791, days before his death–to William Wilberforce. Wesley urged Wilberforce to devote himself unstintingly to his antislavery campaign, a “glorious enterprise” that opposed “that execrable villainy which is the scandal of religion, of England, and of human nature.” Wesley also urged him to “go on, in the name of God and in the power of his might, till even American slavery (the vilest that ever saw the sun) shall vanish away before it.”

Wesley had begun preaching against slavery 20 years before and in 1774 published an abolitionist tract, “Thoughts on Slavery.” Wilberforce came into contact with the burgeoning antislavery movement in 1787, when he met Thomas Clarkson, an evangelical Anglican who had devoted his life to the abolitionist cause. Two years later, Wilberforce gave his first speech against the slave trade in Parliament.

…This idea of slaving as sin is key. As sociologist Rodney Stark noted in “For the Glory of God” (2003), the abolition of slavery in the West during the 19th century was a uniquely Christian endeavor. When chattel slavery, long absent from Europe, reappeared in imperial form in the 16th and 17th centuries–mostly in response to the need for cheap labor in the New World–the first calls to end the practice came from pious Christians, notably the Quakers. Evangelicals, not least Methodists, quickly joined the cause, and a movement was born.

William Wilberforce believed that slaves were made in the image of God – that they were embodied souls who could be resurrected to eternal life. Wilberforce believed that the purpose of human life is to freely seek God, and to be reconciled with God through Christ. He wanted all men and women to have the opportunity to investigate and respond to God’s self-revelation to them.

Further study

You can read more about Wilberforce’s beliefs here and his public activities here. And you can still see modern-day abolitionists, like Scott Klusendorf, acting out their Christian faith. Only today they’re called pro-lifers.

A good paper by Bill Craig on the problem of rationally grounding prescriptive morality is here.