Rene Salm has clued me in to another important new peer reviewed journal article, by Tom Dykstra (M.Div.; Ph.D. in Russian History), who is best known for his critically acclaimed book on how the Gospel of Mark is built out of the Epistles of Paul (Mark, Canonizer of Paul: A New Look at Intertextuality in Mark’s Gospel, reviewed by Neil Godfrey at Vridar). His new article is “Ehrman and Brodie on Whether Jesus Existed: A Cautionary Tale about the State of Biblical Scholarship,” published in volume 8.1 of the Journal of the Orthodox Center for the Advancement of Biblical Studies in 2015.

Comparing the books pro and con historicity by Thomas Brodie and Bart Ehrman, Dykstra makes many remarks critical of both authors, but especially Ehrman, and like Philip Davies, argues for greater caution and humility from historicity defenders. He also dismantles Ehrman’s arguments for historicity. Not always effectively (his treatment of the “Brothers of the Lord” argument is conspicuously weak; and he is, IMO, too sympathetic to the all-Paul-as-forgery thesis), but still often illuminatingly.

Dykstra also opens with a good brief on the Thomas Thompson parallel (which ended in the field’s acceptance of OT mythicism), illustrating how Ehrman’s (and McGrath’s) threats to destroy the career of anyone who even tries arguing against historicity in the field have a frightening precedent in biblical studies that scholars today are still embarrassed by. Even more material on that comes up later as well (pp. 20-21).

Two Interesting Observations

But what I noticed the most about this thirty pages (almost all of it well worth reading) are two things in particular worth calling special attention to.

First, how much it parallels, corroborates, and vindicates Lataster’s similar article, against desperate trash-talking from the likes of James McGrath. Dykstra makes many of the same points. Including accusing Ehrman of resting his case on “imaginary” sources (sic). And this in yet another serious academic journal. He likewise extends, corroborates, and shores up the arguments of Davies that historicists need to start taking challenges to historicity seriously and stop resorting to the fallacies, ad hominems, lies, and threats they have been resorting to instead. (And like Davies, he references the Thompson affair as illustrating his point.)

Second, how much Dykstra’s argument is (unknowingly?) Bayesian.

He makes two arguments throughout, which are in fact the two arguments that compose any complete Bayesian case for a conclusion about history. On the first prong, he says:

If you apply criteria that help determine intertextual relationships and reach the conclusion that Mark was created by reworking Pauline epistles and Old Testament texts, and if he was writing in a genre characterized by historicized fiction, that changes your whole approach to interpreting Mark. It forces you to recognize that the text does not have a historical focus, but rather has a didactic or polemical focus. The Gospel was written in order to build or strengthen a community and tell people how to behave within that community. It was written to provide an authoritative argument against opposing views of how the community should be constituted. History, if present at all, is taking a back seat to making a point. Even if you find that something in Mark is historical, that doesn’t reflect on the historicity of everything else in it. (pp. 17-18)

This statement should be 100% uncontroversial. There is no basis for Ehrman, or any honest, competent historicist to reject it. It is demonstrably correct. Yet it has consequences. Logically inescapable consequences.

This is a Bayesian argument from prior probability.

Ehrman claims the Gospels belong to the genre of oral memory, and in that genre the historicity of the named subject is most commonly true. That’s questionable, of course. Studies of ideological oral traditions, e.g. Moses, King Arthur, Romulus, Hercules, Aesop, Ned Ludd, John Frum, and of urban legends as an entire genre, actually call into question the prevalence of central-subject historicity in that set. But Dykstra is making a different point: that in fact the Gospels belong to a different reference class altogether. They are demonstrably not “the genre of oral memory,” but in fact of literary artifice, and “historicized fiction” as Dykstra puts it (I demonstrate this conclusively in Chapter 10 of OHJ; there citing numerous, and many renowned, experts who concur; it really should be a settled point by now).

Dykstra makes this point in several different ways throughout. He likewise deploys many arguments that represent the second prong of Bayesian reasoning: an argument from likelihood ratio.

Dykstra notes that the evidence Ehrman points to, Ehrman argues is unlikely on mythicism but likely on historicity, which is a Bayesian argument from likelihood ratio. Valid, if the premises are true (and the priors don’t mess with your conclusion). But Dykstra argues Ehrman is wrong, that in fact in every case Ehrman leans on, the evidence is actually just as likely on alternative explanations (explanations Ehrman ignores, doesn’t take seriously, or shows little competence in). Perhaps even more likely. In other words, contrary to what Ehrman claims, it is in fact quite obvious that none of his cited evidence actually supports historicity.

Dykstra also makes balanced points about Ockham’s Razor, which can be expanded with my treatment of the same question as it relates to historicity in my discussion of the case made by Bermejo-Rubio. Likewise, on the problem badly handled by Ehrman of how one defines historicity for Jesus in the first place (the central focus of my entire second chapter in OHJ). And the obvious inadequacy of the method of criteria (which is thoroughly demonstrated, citing even more experts than Dykstra summons, in Chapter 5 of my book Proving History).

Calling Out the Ad Baculum

Dykstra also calls Ehrman out for relying on the No True Scotsman fallacy, and on “the consensus” too uncritically (again noting the Thompson case proves the folly in that; adding to this would be my discussion in Chapters 1 and 5 of Proving History in light of my analysis online).

He closes by reiterating something else I’ve said many times; and he puts it quite well (on p. 22):

Ehrman accords special status to the opinions of scholars who teach at accredited educational institutions. Brodie was just such a person, and for four decades he doubted Jesus’s historicity but didn’t say so publicly. Why? Might there be others who are waiting until retirement age to say what they really think, or who maybe never will?

That possibility weakens Ehrman’s point here. There are good reasons why some of the best scholarship about the New Testament is written by people who don’t earn their livelihood by teaching in the field. Professional scholars have vested interests that they have to protect. A scholar’s livelihood depends in part on his or her reputation, and both can be lost if they say the wrong thing publicly. For many scholars, acknowledging doubts in Jesus’s historicity would be just such a “career-limiting move.” It’s not just a matter of losing your job. Any scholar who comes out for “mythicism” is likely to endure vilification and ridicule. …

No one wants to endure aspersions on their competence and integrity as Thomas Thompson experienced, or accusations of dishonesty as Thomas Brodie experienced.

Likewise you can lose grants, funding, offices, conference appointments; you can anger alumni and other donors whose money your school or department depends upon; you can create a perpetually hostile work environment, be perpetually targeted by political machinations, and face retaliation from peer reviewers, editors, and publishers. And then on top of that, you can cause problems for yourself with your family, friends, and personal life.

Even the false perception or belief that any of this might happen will be enough to silence a scholar. It is therefore especially disgusting and irresponsible of the likes of Ehrman and McGrath to threaten their colleagues with the implied pall of such consequences. As Dykstra points out, Thompson, Lüdemann, Brodie, and even Le Donne were all professionally punished by their peers for daring to say things “the consensus” didn’t like…and in all but Brodie’s case, these were things that have since become the consensus!

As Dykstra observes, “The result is self-censorship: people voluntarily refrain from saying what they believe, in order to avoid loss of income, loss of respect of their peers, or fear of unpleasantness.” (He then quotes me on the same point.)

Dykstra further adds that “professionals who have lived their lives teaching a particular interpretation of literature or history have staked their reputation on that interpretation” and “they tend to not be receptive to new proposals that involve a shift that would make much of what they taught and wrote over the years obsolete.” They are therefore highly biased against admitting they have been wrong all this time, and worse, fearful of ripping up the foundation of their own hard-earned reputation and having to rebuild it from scratch. Dykstra adds illuminating quotes from MacDonald and Goulder on how “the consensus” in this field is often a vindictive monster, and not the product of a genuine commitment to discovering the truth. As I often quote Thomas Paine saying, “Time makes more converts than reason.” When today’s professors die off and are replaced with a new generation, we will have a better chance of truth finally replacing the juggernaut of error.

In the end, Dykstra is at least as sympathetic to mythicism as Davies. Is he now a historicity agnostic? I cannot say. His closing declaration on this point is not clear enough, though it is certainly far more than any historicist would dare say, even Davies:

As for the question of whether Jesus existed, the best answer is that any attempt to find a historical Jesus is a waste of time. It can’t be done, it explains nothing, and it proves nothing.

-:-

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