A Critique of Liberal Scholarship - Part 3 - Observations on Herman Hendrickx’s ‘The Resurrection Narratives’ of the Synoptic Gospels (pp. 42–43)
This text is from a letter written by David Gooding in 1996.
Editor's note: This article is one part of a multi-part series which David Gooding wrote to critique in a scholarly way some of the work of a number of liberal scholars. The series comprises:
- Can following liberal scholarship lead to a loss of faith?
- Following liberal scholarship can lead to biased research
- Observations on Herman Hendrickx's 'The Accounts of the Resurrection'
- Observations on the interpretation of parables given by liberal scholars
- A critique of Jeremias's interpretation of the parable of the Pounds (Luke 19:11–27)
- A critique of Joachim Jeremias's interpretation of Mark 4
- A critique of Haenchen's attempt to use Acts 1:9–11 as support for the theory of the delayed Parousia
- A critique of Jeremias's interpretation of the parable of the Widow and the Unjust Judge (Luke 18:1–8)
- A critique of Beare's interpretation of the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31)
Perhaps I had better begin by stating my own fundamental attitude.
Since I am a Christian, I am prepared to accept on authority anything which our Lord and his apostles say. What I am not prepared to do, however, is to accept on authority what the liberal critics say, just because they say it.
Let me deal with the remarks by Herman Hendrickx on the historicity of Matthew 27:62–66 and 28:11–15, taken from pages 42–43 of Hendrickx's book The Resurrection Narratives of the Synoptic Gospels. Hendricks declares:
That the text contains several expressions, 'which have an absolutely Christian and post-Easter sound'. As examples he cites:
'The day following the preparation of the Passover.' By what authority and on what evidence does Hendrickx claim that this is an absolutely Christian expression? The phrase means 'the day after preparation day in the week during which Passover falls'. The Passover itself, of course, was a Sabbath day; and when such a Sabbath day did not itself fall on the weekly Sabbath, and when you wished to refer to the weekly Sabbath of Passover week, then it was normal to use the phrase 'the day after preparation day of, or during, the Passover'. See D. A. Carson's commentary on Matthew in The Expositor's Bible Commentary.
The phrase 'were gathered together' (Matthew 27:62). Hendrickx claims that this is an absolutely Christian phrase and comes from the time after the cross, and is moreover an allusion to Psalm 2:1–2. Again I ask, by what authority does Hendrickx say this? His reasoning, as far as I can deduce it, seems to be that, in the Greek of Matthew 27:62, the verb is sunēchthēsan. This same verb is also used in the quotation of Psalm 2:2 at Acts 4:26, and is repeated in verse 27 as the Christians apply the Psalm to their own immediate circumstances. This is in itself very slender ground for saying that the phrase in Matthew 27:62 must be, with absolute certainty, attributed to a post-resurrection Christian source, and could not possibly have been used by the Jewish authorities before or even after the resurrection.
But, in addition, Hendrickx has not thought to point out to us the following facts: The phrase used in Matthew 27:62 is not the same as the phrase used in Acts 4. In the Psalm quotation in Acts 4:26, the phrase is 'the rulers were gathered together against the Lord and against his Christ' (sunēchthēsan + kata + the genitive case). In the Christian comment at Acts 4:27, the phrase is 'they were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus' (sunēchthēsan + epi + the accusative case). In both instances, the use of the prepositions kata and epi give to the verb sunēchthēsan a hostile sense: 'they were gathered together against'. In Matthew 27:62 by contrast, the verb carries no such hostile sense. The phrase is, 'the high priests and the Pharisees were gathered together to Pilate' (pros + the accusative), and not, 'they were gathered together against Pilate'. The phrase in Matthew 27:62, therefore, has a different connotation from the phrases used in Acts 4.
The same phrase (sunēchthēsan + pros + the accusative) is used in Matthew 13:2 of the crowds gathering together to Jesus. It likewise carries no hostile sense. But, does the fact that it is the exact same phrase as is used in Matthew 27:62 imply that Matthew owes the phrase in 13:2 to some post-resurrection Christian source? The verb sunagō in the passive is not an infrequent usage in Matthew's Gospel. He uses it much more than the other three evangelists do. It seems to me, therefore, that Hendrickx's suggestion that the phrase in Matthew 27:62 is of absolutely certain Christian origin, and could not have been used by Matthew to describe a scene that took place before the resurrection, is arbitrary, fanciful and inconsistent with the actual linguistic usage of the New Testament.
Hendrickx claims that the phrase 'after three days I will rise again', likewise must be of post-resurrection Christian origin. He does not give us any objective evidence to support his claim. His claim in fact rests on his prior assumption that Jesus never himself made this prediction. Matthew says, of course, that he did (Matthew 12:40; 16:21); and so does Mark (Mark 8:31); and so does Luke (Luke 9:22); and so does John (John 2:19–21). That the Jews had heard of this prediction by our Lord is evident from the garbled account given of his prediction by the false witnesses at his trial (Mark 14:57–59, Matthew 26:61), and repeated by false witnesses at Stephen's trial (Acts 6:14).
Of course, it is an axiom of the school of thought to which Hendrickx belongs that any prophecies of our Lord's resurrection could not possibly have come from our Lord, but must have been invented by the church after the resurrection, and put back into the Gospel records anachronistically. And so, when Hendrickx comes to Matthew 27:62, he supposes that he has already proved that our Lord could not have made any prophecy of his resurrection, and he therefore takes this supposed proof as a further evidence that the resurrection after three days in Matthew 27:62 is likewise an anachronistic insertion by Matthew. But all Hendrickx is doing is heaping one hypothesis upon another. If we do not accept his first hypothesis as a proof, we are not likely to accept his second hypothesis as a further proof.
The same observation applies to the other phrases which Hendrickx quotes from this passage. When Hendrickx says 'All these expressions prove that the record is secondary . . .', they in fact prove no such thing: he is simply making an authoritative statement based on his own presuppositions and axioms. Why would one be so inclined to accept these authoritative statements without any genuine proof?
Next, Hendrickx claims that 'There seem to be some historical improbabilities in the narrative' (p.42).
His first 'improbability' is that the authorities are said to take various dispositions that are almost inconceivable on the sabbath, even though it has been indicated that exceptions to the law of the sabbath were possible. But when Hendrickx claims that these dispositions are 'almost inconceivable', his claim proves nothing. It is only a statement of his own subjective judgment. Jeremias, who as you know is a liberal and not a conservative, states the very opposite! (Again, refer to D. A. Carson's commentary on Matthew.)
The second 'improbability' (p.42) is that the soldiers do not inform Pilate, but the priests. But of course the soldiers did not inform Pilate. They were not Roman soldiers from under Pilate's command; they were members of the temple police, under the control of the Jewish captain of the temple and of the high priest. When these temple police reported to their Jewish masters, their Jewish masters would naturally do all they could to stop any report of what had happened reaching Pilate's ears (once more, see D. A. Carson's commentary on Matthew).
The third 'improbability' (p.42) is 'Although the soldiers are bribed to tell a false story, the Christians—or at least Matthew—are aware of their true experience'. But of course they did: the early Christians knew that none of the disciples had stolen the body of the Lord Jesus; and several of them had visited the tomb on the morning of the resurrection. Of course they 'are aware of their real experience'. Matthew does not say that all the temple police fled when the angel descended and rolled away the stone; but that, while the women were going from the tomb, some of the guard left the tomb and went and reported what had happened to the chief priests (Matthew 28:11). The early Christians, therefore, knew exactly what the temple police had really experienced, as distinct from the false story that they put around.
There is, therefore, no 'improbability' in the story, as long as we allow that the story is a true historical record of what actually happened on the morning of the resurrection.
But Hendrickx does not believe that the story is a genuine historical record. In this respect, Hendrickx is an unbeliever. Starting then with this unbelieving assumption, he assumes that Matthew has invented the story at a later date when few, if any, of the early Christians who had visited the tomb on the morning of the resurrection were still living.
Having assumed this, he then, naturally enough, finds an improbability in the story: if these second-generation Christians were the first Christians ever to hear this made-up story; and if they had never been at the tomb themselves on the morning of the resurrection; and if they could not personally consult anyone who had been at the tomb; and if now they were presented with a story, purporting to emanate from the temple authorities and the temple police who were on guard at the tomb, that the disciples had stolen the Lord's body, how could these second-generation Christians have been so confidently aware of what the temple police had actually experienced, as distinct from what they claimed they had experienced? For, on Hendrickx's assumption, these second-generation Christians had no access to genuine historical information as to what the temple police actually experienced.
So then this 'improbability' only arises when you assume, as Hendrickx does, that the story is not a genuine historical record. At this point, therefore, normal logic would say that this improbability shows that Hendrickx's assumption, from which the improbability arises, is false. But no! Hendrickx claims that the improbability shows that his assumption is true! The steps in his argument are:
- If the story was historically true, the early Christians would have had direct knowledge of what the temple guards actually experienced at the tomb. There would be no improbability in the story.
- So assume that the story is not historical, but was made up in the second generation of Christians.
- It then follows that no Christians of any generation could have had direct knowledge of what the temple police experienced at the tomb, for it follows from the assumption that the temple police were never there.
- But the story implies that the Christians did have direct knowledge of what the temple police experienced.
- So if we assume that the story was made up in the second generation, this feature in the story becomes an improbability.
- This improbability then 'proves' that the story was made up in the second generation.
- This in turn 'proves' that the story is not a historical record of what actually happened on the morning of the resurrection.
Or to shorten the chain of argument:
- If it is historical, there is no improbability.
- So assume non-historicity. This then creates an improbability.
- This improbability then proves non-historicity.
All Hendrickx has done, therefore, is first to assume what he wanted to prove; and then, on the basis of that assumption, to claim that his assumption has been proved true. How, I ask, can anyone be convinced by this kind of argument?
Next, Hendrickx (p.42) claims that 'the literary form of the story is unique in the Gospel-tradition'. Now the 'unique literary form', according to Hendrickx, is this: 'It is a lively dialogue which has a narrative-section as its introduction and as its conclusion'. This literary form supposes a certain grade of literary sophistication, unknown in the earlier Gospel tradition, but predominant in the apocryphal Gospels.
But the story of the Rich Young Ruler, as well as the story of the colt, shows the exact same literary form:
The story of the Rich Young Ruler (Mark 10:17–25) | ||
---|---|---|
Mark 10:17a | Narrative | 'And as he was going forth into the way, there ran one to him, and kneeled to him and asked him . . .' |
Mark 10:17b–21 | Vivid Dialogue | Question, reply, response, reply. |
Mark 10:22–25 | Narrative | 'But his countenance fell at the saying and he went away sorrowful; for he was one that had great possessions . . .' |
Many stories in the Gospel of John show the same literary form. For that matter, the mixing of narrative with lively dialogue is a very ancient form of storytelling; witness, among many others, the histories of the Greek Herodotus.
If you first assume that this form of storytelling is late and is confined to the apocryphal Gospels, and if you then go through the Gospels and cut out any story that exhibits this form on the ground that stories of this kind are late, then of course you can show that what remains of the Gospels does not include any such stories. But in doing so, you prove your point only by first assuming that your point is true, and building your proof on that assumption.
Next, Hendrickx (p.43) observes that the other Gospels do not mention this incident. That, of course, is true; and Matthew himself points to the reason for this. Of the false story put about by the temple police, he says that 'this story was spread among the Jews until this day' (Matthew 28:15). Writing, as most people think, primarily for the benefit of Palestinian and predominantly Jewish Christians, Matthew would need to refute this false story which Palestinian believers would have heard.
But Mark, writing for believers in Rome, and Luke, writing for the Greek and Roman world, would be writing for people who in all likelihood would never have heard of this false story. There was therefore no need either to mention it, or to refute it. Even Hendrickx admits that the fact that the other Gospels do not mention this story does not necessarily prove that the narrative is entirely legendary (p. 43).
But notice how Hendrickx argues. His phrase 'does not necessarily prove' implies nevertheless that it is strong evidence in that direction. Actually, it is no evidence at all. Once more Hendrickx is assuming what he wants to prove. Again, his phrase, 'that the narrative is entirely legendary', implies that at least some of the narrative is legendary. But Hendrickx has not yet proved that any part of it is legendary. And when in his final paragraph (middle of p. 43) he assembles all his doubts, subjective impressions, speculations, assumptions and arbitrary pronouncements, this does not transform these things into cumulative proof. They remain what they always were: a collection of doubts, subjective impressions, speculations, unwarranted assumptions and arbitrary pronouncements.