On “Misquoting Jesus” by Bart D. Ehrman ****

I'd been a little leery of this book, knowing Ehrman's penchant for calling into question basic tenets of Christianity, and that is, on the whole with this book, his point and purpose. His general thesis, as denoted in the introduction and conclusion is that because the text of the New Testament can't be perfectly known, it must not be inspired. But his general point, alas, does not necessarily follow from the evidence he provides. In between is a really good layman's introduction to textual criticism and to some of the issues that arise when trying to edit the Bible (the same issues, actually, that arise with editing virtually any book whose author no longer is alive). It was because I couldn't get ahold of Ehrman's Orthodox Corruption of Scripture that I ended up reading this layman's version. I actually wanted to know more about the various alternative versions of the text. And while not as thorough as that book, this one certainly provides some great case studies.

The start of the book and, indeed, some passages later on are very basic. Such made me reflect on the difficulty writers have who are aiming at a general audience. How much is too general? How soon can one delve into specifics. But soon enough, Ehrman drops into literacy rates in the ancient world (they were low, but Ehrman takes the lowest end of estimates as a given) and the nature of how early texts were copied. The earliest texts, as he notes, were copied not by professionals but by what few literate members there were among the Christian community. Most of the time this would have been those who also were rich enough to have large enough homes to host Christian gatherings. As there were a number of Christian beliefs, some “scribes” would have had a willingness to change texts to fit an agenda. (The fact that our texts are as close as they are to one another would itself seem to be something of a miracle, but Ehrman focuses on differences not on similarities.) A few centuries in, the role of copying was taken over by professionals, but the damage of these early years was already done. There were no really reliable manuscripts. But I'm not so sure this reading of the history is correct. Professionals, as Ehrman brings out in his examples, were inclined to make similar errors or even deliberate changes as well.

This is the situation we find ourselves in when we come to the translations into English. The King James Version, which has so affected every English translation since, was itself based on a faulty manuscript, according to Ehrman, one of the most faulty of them all. Other reading of mine, however, shows this claim to be debatable, counterarguments that Ehrman largely ignores. The issue, of course, as Ehrman brings out, is that with varying manuscripts, editors are left trying to figure out what the original actually was. We have, in many cases, older manuscripts than those that were used to translate the KJV. Differences there would seem to indicate that some of the later manuscripts reflect changes made to the text that weren't in the original. But our early manuscripts, alas, are also often from particular regions and reflect, arguably, changes that were made in that region. They might be older, but there is possibly a reason that the variations in those texts didn't show up in later versions: They weren't the accepted or best text. It's impossible, often, to know. Ehrman describes some of the ways in which scholars attempt to figure out which really is more accurate. One way is by looking at what is the more difficult reading. It's more likely that a scribe would have changed something to be easier to read or understand than to be more difficult. This makes sense to a point, but it's no given. Another, Ehrman does not, is also regional variation. Copyists in one part of the world might have a manuscript with an error that is copied from frequently, an error or variation that doesn't exist in manuscripts in other parts of the world.

Ehrman himself admits that the vast majority of the changes to the text are mere typographic errors that are easily enough discerned. It's in the places where such changes make a difference to meaning that issues arise. But even here, some of these variations don't seem quite as profound as Ehrman makes them out to be. Whether Jesus looks on a disabled man with grace or anger when healing in one passage in Mark makes a little difference in the context and even to an extent in how we read Mark generally, but when we look at the overall point of the Gospels, I don't think it signficantly changes Christian teaching. One can read such a passage both ways and find value in each.

And I can totally understand the difficulties scribes and editors are up against. Sometimes a passage is unclear. If there's no author to ask, one is left sometimes with a difficult decision. Is this weird thing an inadvertant error or was that what the author really wrote and intended? It happens even when editing contemporary texts. The more interesting observations are those where Ehrman claims the text was changed deliberately. Some of these are more obvious than others; others are certainly open for debate, though how one reads other parts of the New Testament will often affect whether one believes these were later changes.

In the end, I found this book really engaging and informative. And while I don't think that Ehrman's overall point is ultimately convincing, denying that some parts of the Biblical text are difficult to discern is not the best means toward valuing faith. It's better to acknowledge that we don't know everything, even as we look to the overall themes of the New Testament text.

On "Heaven and Hell" by Bart D. Ehrman ****

The latest from Ehrman explores ancient concepts of the afterlife, ultimately showing how our contemporary mainstream Christian concepts of heaven and hell were not shared by Christians of Jesus's generation. Ehrman does most of this work by summarizing ancient texts and then trying to draw conclusions from there; as he notes, this is a somewhat problematic system but is what we are essentially limited to. The common men didn't leave behind written records other than gravesites, and telling what a person believed regarding the afterlife is very difficult from the pithy statements left behind as epitaphs.

Ehrman spends most of his time among the Greeks and the Jews, with a bit thrown in from the Babylonians--but little time with the Egyptians, which is something of a shame, since their own views had such an impact on later Greek ideas. As Ehrman notes, among the early Greeks, concepts of the afterlife were hazy and generally unappealing. Unless you were some sort of hero who went on to reign in the world of the dead, you were likely to become a mere shadow, a sort-of half-conscious/half-existent being, which left questions as to what exactly the heroes among the dead ruled over. The philosophers had their own views, including that of Socrates, who thought that there either was no afterlife or that if there was one, it was most excellent. Either way, death was not to be feared, for we had no pain or sorrow before life and thus will feel none after either way. As time went on, Plato, via various Eastern cultures, adopted views that included an immortal soul and various rewards and punishments that went with a good life or a bad one. All came from the One, in Plato's view, and all were headed back there--as one moved closer in viewpoint to that First Cause through proper living and thought.

Among the Jews, in Ehrman's interpretation, there was concern only with national restoration, which resulted in the concept of a resurrection. But the scriptures focus on that resurrection as a way of restoring God's nation, more than on individuals. In time, however, the concerns with national restoration and the nation's resurrection became individualized such that there came to be a view that there was a resurrection and a judgment for individuals. (I am not completely swayed by Ehrman's view that resurrection was solely a national prospect in the early-going, but certainly I'd agree that the emphasis was on the nation rather than the individual.) PUnishment was generally simply not being resurrected or being destroyed for all time--burned up.

By Jesus's day, the individualized view of the resurrection and judgment was a common Jewish viewpoint, though there were others--no afterlife (common among the Sadducees) or immortal soul (common among the Essenes).

Early Christians emphasized a resurrection to life on Earth (sometimes in the flesh, sometimes as something bodily but somehow more than flesh), according to Ehrman, as part of the idea that Jesus would be returning soon and establishing his Kingdom. As this did not happen on the quick time scale people expected, other theories began to predominate, including an idea that the soul would be taken to heaven to await unifying with the body at the last judgment and Jesus's return or the idea that the body would be done away with completely. Punishment for an evil life moved from being eternal death to being eternal punishment. Likewise, in time, some Christians began to believe that there was likely some kind of intermediate state, or even a set of Platonic reincarnations, to purify those who had not been that evil (or even though who had been evil) so that all would have a chance at eternal bliss.

It is this last section of Ehrman's book that I found somewhat disappointing. After setting up his discussion so well with regard to what ancients believed regarding the afterlife and what people of Jesus's day believed, he pretty much wraps up the book, paying scant attention to how we get to the views so many Christians have today. To be sure, such views vary widely, as Ehrman notes--not everyone believes in Purgatory, for example. But in leaving out the chronological development of thought after the first century, we don't get a very clear sense of just how and when certain views came to predominate. As a history of the afterlife, the book could have easily continued into the Middle Ages to give a clearer sense of how we end up with the views that are so common today.

On "Lost Christianities" by Bart D. Ehrman *****

I now understand why Ehrman could sell so many books, beyond just writing things about Christianity that are sometimes controversial. He happens to be an extremely engaging writer, and at least in this text, he is one who comes across as quite reasonable. I had in some ways expected not only to largely disagree with Ehrman but also to be angered by him. This book did neither to me. This is not to say that I agreed with everything that Ehrman had to say, but he gave me a lot to think about, and were I to accept all his premises, I'd likely more often reach similar conclusions.

The point of this book is largely for Ehrman to explore what Christianity may have become if orthodox Christianity hadn't won out. As such, he looks at various heresies and how those who taught them thought about Jesus--and also how the proto-orthodox pushed their agenda. As Ehrman notes, those proto-orthodox not only won out but also then wrote the history of Jesus and early Christianity, ridding it of the differences that existed in those early years and of the voices of those who taught in a different way. These are all excellent points--and ones would totally agree with.

Now, of course, we have access to some of the original documents that were earlier only available to us in quotes from those arguing against heretical teachers. This was made possible by the discovery of the Nag Hammadi library most especially, among others. Interestingly, the teachings of those arguing against such thinkers turn out to be largely correct about what such people were teaching--or at least that seems to be the case when we read it through the lens of such arguers; take the lens away, and some of the teachings may not be quite as antithetical in all cases.

Ehrman begins his discussion of how we establish authority in Scriptures. He looks at how people wrote pseudo-epigraphically and how such forgeries could affect how people accepted a given work. He argues quite well against those who would say that pseudo-epigraphy was simply a rhetorical device that was accepted (something that seemed a point in John Collins's book on diasporic Jewish writers); as Ehrman notes, the whole point of writing in someone else's voice with their name was to pose as that authority and discovery of a work being "forged" in such a name meant it wasn't accepted as authoritative generally.

Next, Ehrman looks at different forms of Christianity that existed--Ebionites, Marcionites, and Gnostics. The first were more Jewish in temper and emphasized Jesus as human (rejecting Paul's writings); the second were more Gentile in orientation, rejected the Jewish Old Testament and virtually all writings by New Testament writers outside of Paul (and Luke's gospel), and emphasized Jesus as divine. Orthodox Christianity pushed both such views out.

Here's where Ehrman's work gets really interesting. He looks at the New Testament as it comes down to us and largely argues that it was in selecting these books--and the accepted texts for these books--that the proto-orthodox established their authority. The New Testament is not, as Ehrman notes, necessarily as nailed down as we suppose. Ancient manuscripts (of which we have more than any other ancient text) of the books that make up the New Testament include numerous differences. Most of these, Ehrman concedes, are merely spelling errors and other simple and obvious mistakes. But a few suggest an agenda. One of the most interesting sets of differences are passages in Luke, wherein references are made to Jesus's father and mother or parents--in many of the manuscripts such wording is "changed" to emphasize only his mother, the idea being that some had used Luke's references to his parents to say that Jesus had not been conceived by the Holy Spirit. Likewise, the oldest manuscripts (though not the majority of ancient manuscripts overall) have Father saying, in contract to Matthew and Mark, at the time of Jesus's baptism, "This is my beloved Son; today I have begotten you"--instead of "This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." The majority of English translations take up the later version. Ehrman argues the manuscript was changed for the same reason (though this argument supposes that "oldest" is always better--something that I would say is not necessarily the case; the accepted text may be the real whose older versions fell into disrepair and the oldest could well be a changed text that we discovered; either way, though, the discrepancies do show the challenges textual editors/scholars have in defining what the original text was intended to be).

Then Ehrman goes into the subject of how the canon was settled on, again arguing that this was the product of proto-orthodox Christians winning out over the first four centuries. Indeed, if one looks at some second-century works, almost the entire the New Testament is referenced (namely in Polycarp's letter), while in other such works almost none of it is (Shepherd of Hermas, 2 Clement). What constituted Scripture differed from place to place, which is likely true. What is interesting here, however, is that in Asia Minor, it would appear that most of the New Testament was already settled by the time of Polycarp, which to me would suggest that this is where the proto-Orthodox canon formation actually came from, despite the fact that Rome continued to argue over biblical concepts for another several hundred years. In part, that would seem to make more sense because otherwise, it seems odd to me that some of the books we have in the New Testament would be there, as they don't well fit orthodox Christian doctrines. Indeed, modern scholarship to me, seems in a sense, to have taken on a kind of Marcionite canon insofar as most secular scholars now argue that other than about seven of Paul's letters, the rest of the New Testament was written much later and most of it pseudo-epigraphically; as such, we end up almost with an antinomian New Testament in which only a selection of Paul's letters count as truly apostolic.