Why God Can’t Lie (Or Sin)

no-lies1Scripture repeatedly affirms the truthfulness of God. As early as the book of Numbers, we read:

God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should repent. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfil it? (Num. 23:19).

The same view is expressed in multiple other passages (e.g., 1 Sam. 15:29, 2 Tim. 2:13, Tit. 1:2). Jesus even declares himself to be “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” (John 14:6).

But Hebrews goes a step further, saying not only that God does not lie, but speaking of it being impossible for God to lie:

God, because he wanted to show even more to the heirs of the promise the unchangeableness of his resolve, guaranteed it with an oath, in order that through two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have taken refuge may have powerful encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us (Heb. 6:17-18, LEB)

How does this square with the fact God is omnipotent—that he can “do anything”?

If he can do anything, wouldn’t that mean he can lie?

No, and here’s why . . .

 

Talking Nonsense

In my latest book, A Daily Defense, I take up the question of whether God could make up a stone too heavy for him to lift, which poses the same kind of challenge to divine omnipotence that we are considering here.

In response, I point out that theologians do not understand omnipotence to mean that God can do anything you can say.

You can say all sorts of things that amount to gibberish. For example:

God can the helium the the an a five wooden the the the next.

That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just gibberish—nonsense. It doesn’t even obey the laws of English grammar.

And even if something obeys the laws of grammar, that doesn’t mean it makes sense, either.

Linguists have identified sentences like “Colorless green ideas sleep furiously,” which obeys the laws of English grammar but doesn’t mean anything—as long as you give the words their normal meanings.

Taking the terms in their normal senses, this sentence is also jibberish:

God can make colorless green ideas sleep furiously.

But you might not notice that it’s meaningless unless you stopped to carefully parse it. The same is true of sentences like:

God can make four-sided triangles.

God can make square circles.

At first glance, those might sound sensible, but if you think about them, these statements also fall apart.

By definition, a triangle has three sides, not four. And by definition, a circle is not square.

Same thing goes for married bachelors, two-horned unicorns, and colorless green ideas.

None of these things can exist because they all involve logical contradictions. That is, the terms used contradict each other. Philosophers thus classify these entities as logically impossible.

Of course, it is possible to play games with words by taking the terms in non-normal senses, like saying that a four-sided pyramid is a “four-sided triangle” or that a unicorn that later grows a second horn is a “two-horned unicorn,” but that’s not what we’re talking about.

These things are logically impossible if you take the terms in their intended, normal senses.

 

What Omnipotence Means

This gets us to the issue of omnipotence. It isn’t the ability to do anything you can say—because you can say a lot of things that amount to gibberish—it’s the ability to do anything that is logically possible.

See St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I:25:3-4.

This gives us the answer to whether God can make a stone too heavy for him to lift. The answer is no.

God’s omnipotence gives him unlimited—or infinite—lifting power, and a stone too heavy to be moved with infinite lifting power would have to have more than infinite weight.

And there is no such thing as “more than infinite.”

Even appealing to the different kinds of infinity proposed by mathematicians won’t help, because—as an All-Perfect Being—God’s power comprehends them all, and there is no such thing as a weight that transcends all possible infinities.

A stone too heavy for God to lift thus involves a logical contradiction, meaning it is not logically possible and thus not something an omnipotent Being could create.

But what about lying? Why can’t an omnipotent Being do that? After all, we can!

 

a-daily-defense_1Why We Can Lie (And God Can’t)

If you think about it a moment, the reason why we can lie becomes clear: It’s because we’re imperfect.

Lying is a sin. Sins are morally imperfect actions. And so a being capable of lying is a morally imperfect being.

That gives us the reason why God can’t sin: He’s All-Perfect, possessing all possible perfections. That means he possesses moral perfection. Moral perfection implies sinlessness. It therefore precludes lying.

To put this in terms of divine omnipotence, the reason God can’t lie—or commit any other sin—is because he’s All-Perfect. If he were able to lie, he would be imperfect, like we are.

The idea of an All-Perfect Being lying thus involves a logical contradiction, just like the idea of a square circle or a married bachelor.

God can’t bring about a situation in which he, an All-Perfect Being, lies any more than he can bring about a situation in which there is a four-sided triangle or a stone too heavy for him to lift.

Such situations are logically impossible because the terms involved contain logical contradictions.

The reason God can’t lie is thus because it’s inconsistent with his nature as an All-Perfect Being.

This idea is reflected in 2 Timothy 2:13, where Paul says that even “if we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself.”

God’s own nature—his complete holiness—prevents him from sinning.

By the way, if you haven’t already gotten a copy, be sure to check out my book A Daily Defense, where I go into all kinds of interesting things like this!

God’s Foreknowledge and Predestination–And More!

free-will-and-divine-foreknowledgeIn this episode of Catholic Answers Live (March 2, 2017), Jimmy answers the following questions:

  • What’s the difference between God’s foreknowledge of our salvation and being predestined for salvation? Is it possible to desire and seek salvation, but not earn it because you are not predestined?
  • Why is it that the Rite of Blessing of holy water is not done at every Mass before the penitential rite? Would it be allowed for a U.S. priest to celebrate the Ambrosian or the Mozarabic rite in order to give Italian and Spanish Catholics a taste of home?
  • Why aren’t there women priests?
  • My friends asked me to explain what Lent is. I wasn’t sure what to say. How should I have answered them?
  • Is it correct to say we are not only declared righteous, as in a courtroom, but also made righteous by God’s grace?
  • My friends have been praying to have a child for a couple of years. They are beginning to despair. Do you have any advice as far saints to pray for intercessions or ways I can pray with them?
  • How can I explain the Trinity to someone who says it is not biblical and that the verse in Matthew 28 was added by the Catholic Church?
  • I am Evangelical and have been considering converting. As I listen to all these talks on the radio and evaluate, I’m surprised that many on Catholic radio are not priests. Can I really rely on the answers I hear and to know they are representing the true Catholic position? I want to be sure I have the correct information to base my decision to convert.
  • Do we know how Mary’s name was pronounced in her native tongue?

Resources Mentioned:


Click the link to watch the video on YouTube.

Why Don’t We Hear About the Apostles’ Children? And More!

twelve apostlesIn this episode of Catholic Answers Live (Feb. 23, 2017, 2nd hour), Jimmy answers the following questions:

  • My wife divorced me, how do I get an annulment?
  • Why do we never hear about the Apostles children?
  • What’s the Catholic teaching on predestination?
  • What is the Douay-Rheims Bible and is it a valid translation?
  • When I explain the Immaculate Conception to my Protestant family, I get to the point where I say “It is fitting that Mary was Immaculate Conception” and my family says, “Well, it might be fitting, but that doesn’t mean it is so.” How can I explain this better?
  • If you’ve had spiritual experiences, how do you explain them? I’ve seen things that are hard to explain.
  • How do I correct the false teachings of my RCIA director?
  • Are the miracles of Medjugorje valid?
  • I invited two Mormons to breakfast tomorrow, how should I steer the conversation?

Resources Mentioned

Click the link to watch the video on YouTube.

The Epistle of Barnabas and the Gospel of Matthew

barnabusbIn its entry on the (apocryphal) Epistle of Barnabas, the Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary states:

Although Barnabas 4:14 appears to quote Matt 22:14, it must remain an open question whether the Barnabas circle knew written gospels. Based on Koester’s analysis (1957:125–27, 157), it appears more likely that Barnabas stood in the living oral tradition used by the written gospels (Treat, J. C. (1992). Barnabas, Epistle of. In D. N. Freedman (Ed.), The Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary (Vol. 1, p. 614). New York: Doubleday).

The connection between Barnabas 4:14 and Matthew is, indeed, striking. Barnabas 4:14 states:

Moreover, consider this as well, my brothers: when you see that after such extraordinary signs and wonders were done in Israel, even then they were abandoned, let us be on guard lest we should be found to be, as it is written, “many called, but few chosen.” (Holmes, M. W. (1999). The Apostolic Fathers: Greek texts and English translations (Updated ed., p. 283). Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books.)

If the last bit of this is a quotation from one of the Gospels, it can only be from Matthew 22:14, for this verse has no parallels in the other Gospels.

However, the idea that Barnabas is borrowing this from oral tradition is extremely implausible. The author introduces the quotation with the formula “as it is written”–not “as it is said.” This not only implies he is using a written source but also that he regarded it as scripture, for “it is written” is a standard formula for introducing scripture quotations.

The probability is thus that Barnabas was quoting Matthew’s Gospel, and that would let us establish a terminus ad quem (roughly, a latest possible date) for Matthew if we could establish when Barnabas was written.

It was clearly written after the destruction of the temple in A.D. 70, for Barnabas 16:3-5 refers to that event:

(3) Furthermore, again he says: “Behold, those who tore down this temple will build it themselves.” (4) This is happening now. For because they went to war, it was torn down by their enemies, and now the very servants of their enemies will re-build it. (5) Again, it was revealed that the city and the temple and the people of Israel were destined to be handed over. For the Scripture says: “And it will happen in the last days that the Lord will hand over the sheep of the pasture and the sheepfold and their watchtower to destruction.” And it happened just as the Lord said.

Precisely how long afterwards Barnabas was written is not clear, but it is certainly early. In fact, it is likely the first surviving piece of Christian literature written after the destruction of the temple. In The Fathers Know Best, I date it to around A.D. 75.

The fact that Barnabas records the destruction of the temple as a past fact (“And it happened just as the Lord said”) but Matthew presents it only as a future fact, with no notice of the prophecy’s fulfillment, suggests Matthew was written before 70.

Science Fiction and Christianity! And More!

AlienSouls-660x330

In this episode of Catholic Answers Live (Feb. 23, 2017, 1st hour), Jimmy answers the following questions:

  • Appreciating science fiction from a Christian perspective
  • I’ve seen people touch the monstrance, is that okay?
  • What’s the Church’s position on transgender issue?
  • In the bible, there’s a footnote on the USCCB’s website under Genesis 2:8 on the garden in the east, saying it’s a pleasure park. What’s the Catholic understanding of this?
  • Hypothetically, if the Pope allowed divorced and remarried people to receive communion, what would that mean for the Church?
  • My husband and I just had a baby, and I’m not ready health wise for another baby, and I asked my husband if he could get a vasectomy, how big of a sin is that? Can I still receive communion?
  • Is there a possibility of intelligence life outside of us? What would that mean for theology and God’s relationship with those beings?
  • Should we be filled with the Holy Spirit so we’re speaking in tongues? Is it another language or is it just babbling?

Resources Mentioned:


Click the link to watch the video on YouTube.

Do You Need Religion to Be Moral? And More!

Here’s my recent appearance on Catholic Answers Live where I discuss whether you need religion to be moral, and many other questions!

In this appearance on Catholic Answers Live (Feb. 2, 2017), Jimmy Akin explains how he lost 100 lbs and answers questions about:

* How the Eucharistic fast works
* How the Church is able to know that saints are in heaven
* What kind of medical care needs to be given to the aged
* Was there a “Council of Jamnia”?
* How to respond to atheists’ assertions that you don’t need religion to be moral
* Whether you receive “more God” when you receive the Eucharist under both kinds
* Why does only Matthew mention the dead who were raised when Jesus died?
* How to become a spiritual director
* The morality of British authorities letting Nazi attacks succeed to keep the Nazis from knowing their codes had been broken
* What was the status of the people who Jesus addressed when he said “Do this in memory of me”?

Cardinal Muller on Amoris Laetitiae: 12 things to know and share

Gerhard-Ludwig-MüllerCardinal Gerhard Muller has made public comments on Pope Francis’s document Amoris Laetitiae and the controversy surrounding it.

Here are 12 things to know and share . . .

 

1) What is Amoris Laetitiae?

It’s a document issued by Pope Francis in April of 2016.

It deals with marriage and how the Church can help married couples.

The text of the document is online here, and a discussion of it is here.

More commentary, from a Catholic perspective, here.

 

2) Why has there been controversy around Amoris Laetitiae?

Certain passages in it have been taken to mean that couples who are divorced and civilly remarried can continue to have sex and receive the sacraments of confession and the Eucharist.

This would be at variance with the historic Catholic understanding because such couples would not be validly married to each other and thus sexual relations between them would be adulterous.

Because of different interpretations of the document, a group of four cardinals recently asked Pope Francis to answer several clarifying questions on the document and how it relates to Catholic teaching. Info on that here.

Thus far, Pope Francis has not publicly responded to these queries.

 

3) Who is Cardinal Muller?

He’s the head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, which is the department at the Vatican charged with correcting doctrinal errors.

This is the same department that Pope Benedict XVI was head of before he was elected pope.

Cardinal Muller is thus, in terms of his office, Pope Francis’s right hand man when it comes to doctrine.

 

4) Where did Cardinal Muller make his remarks?

Most recently he did so in an interview that was published in the Italian apologetics magazine Il Timone (“The Rudder”).

That issue is available for purchase online here.

Thus far, I haven’t found a complete English translation of the interview, but key sections of it are provided here.

 

5) What does Cardinal Muller say in this interview?

He addresses several issues, including:

  • Whether there can be a conflict between doctrine and personal conscience
  • How Amoris Laetitiae is to be interpreted
  • Whether the requirement that divorced and remarried couples who cannot separate for practical reasons must live as brother and sister to receive the sacraments
  • How to resolve the chaos surrounding the different interpretations of Amoris Laetitiae

 

6) What did Cardinal Muller say on the conflict between doctrine and personal conscience?

This was the exchange on that point:

Q: Can there be a contradiction between doctrine and personal conscience?

A: No, that is impossible. For example, it cannot be said that there are circumstances according to which an act of adultery does not constitute a mortal sin. For Catholic doctrine, it is impossible for mortal sin to coexist with sanctifying grace. In order to overcome this absurd contradiction, Christ has instituted for the faithful the Sacrament of penance and reconciliation with God and with the Church.

I find this response somewhat puzzling. There may be a problem with the transcription or translation of the question or answer.

First, it is obvious that sometimes people’s consciences contradict Church teaching. In this situation they have what is termed an erroneous conscience.

I assume that Cardinal Muller means that there cannot be a contradiction between a person’s conscience and the Church’s teaching unless their conscience is in error.

Second, the Church holds that three conditions must be met for a mortal sin to be committed: It must have (1) grave matter and be committed with both (2) full knowledge of its moral status and (3) deliberate consent in spite of this knowledge.

An adulterous act always has grave matter, but there are cases in which a person may lack full knowledge or deliberate consent, in which case the sin is objectively grave but not mortal.

I assume that the cardinal is speaking of an adulterous act in which these two conditions are also met.

 

7) What did Cardinal Muller say on how Amoris Laetitiae is to be interpreted?

The exchange on this point was:

Q: This [see the previous Q and A] is a question that is being extensively discussed with regard to the debate surrounding the post-synodal exhortation “Amoris Laetitia.”

A: “Amoris Laetitia” must clearly be interpreted in the light of the whole doctrine of the Church. […] I don’t like it, it is not right that so many bishops are interpreting “Amoris Laetitia” according to their way of understanding the pope’s teaching. This does not keep to the line of Catholic doctrine. The magisterium of the pope is interpreted only by him or through the congregation for the doctrine of the faith. The pope interprets the bishops, it is not the bishops who interpret the pope, this would constitute an inversion of the structure of the Catholic Church. To all these who are talking too much, I urge them to study first the doctrine [of the councils] on the papacy and the episcopate. The bishop, as teacher of the Word, must himself be the first to be well-formed so as not to fall into the risk of the blind leading the blind. […]

Again, Cardinal Muller’s response contains what might seem like puzzling elements that may be due to a problem with transcription or translation.

Obviously, anyone reading Amoris Laetitiae must seek to understand what the pope is saying and in that sense interpret it.

Therefore, I assume what the cardinal is referring to is what is known in ecclesiastical circles as an “authentic interpretation.”

“Authentic” is a term of art in ecclesiastical documents that means authoritative. An authentic interpretation is thus an authoritative declaration concerning the meaning of a text.

Cardinal Muller thus seems to be saying that bishops (and others) do not have the ability to make authoritative declarations about the meaning of the pope’s teachings. Only the pope himself and the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (as authorized by the pope) are capable of doing so.

Authentic interpretations are periodically issued by the Holy See in official documents.

Thus an authoritative interpretation of Amoris Laetitiae would only be made in a new, public proclamation by the pope or the CDF.

Unless and until such a declaration is made, Amoris is to be interpreted “in the light of the whole doctrine of the Church,” including its historic understanding of the effects of divorce and civil remarriage.

 

8) What did Cardinal Muller say about the obligation of those who are divorced and civilly remarried to live continently if they are to receive the sacraments?

Here is the exchange on that point:

Q: The exhortation of Saint John Paul II, “Familiaris Consortio,” stipulates that divorced and remarried couples that cannot separate, in order to receive the sacraments must commit to live in continence. Is this requirement still valid?

A: Of course, it is not dispensable, because it is not only a positive law of John Paul II, but he expressed an essential element of Christian moral theology and the theology of the sacraments. The confusion on this point also concerns the failure to accept the encyclical “Veritatis Splendor,” with the clear doctrine of the “intrinsece malum.” [“intrinsically evil (act)”] […] For us marriage is the expression of participation in the unity between Christ the bridegroom and the Church his bride. This is not, as some said during the Synod, a simple vague analogy. No! This is the substance of the sacrament, and no power in heaven or on earth, neither an angel, nor the pope, nor a council, nor a law of the bishops, has the faculty to change it.

In this context, a “positive law” refers to a law that is made by humans (as opposed to “natural law,” which refers to the laws God built into human nature).

Cardinal Muller thus means that the principle in question is not simply a law John Paul II made up and that therefore would be capable of being changed. It belongs to divine law and cannot be changed by man.

He comments that confusion on this area is rooted in the refusal of some to accept the teaching John Paul II articulated in Veritatis Splendor that some acts are intrinsically evil and can never be done—such as an act of adultery.

He says that marriage “for us” (meaning either “from a Catholic point of view” or “marriage between the baptized”) has a sacramental nature that participates in the unity between Christ and the Church.

Such unity requires fidelity and thus absolutely excludes adultery—something he indicates nobody, including the pope, can change.

 

9) What did Cardinal Muller say regarding how to deal with the confusion surrounding Amoris Laetitiae?

Here is the exchange on this point:

Q: How can one resolve the chaos that is being generated on account of the different interpretations that are given of this passage of Amoris Laetitia?

A: I urge everyone to reflect, studying the doctrine of the Church first, starting from the Word of God in Sacred Scripture, which is very clear on marriage. I would also advise not entering into any casuistry that can easily generate misunderstandings, above all that according to which if love dies, then the marriage bond is dead. These are sophistries: the Word of God is very clear and the Church does not accept the secularization of marriage. The task of priests and bishops is not that of creating confusion, but of bringing clarity. One cannot refer only to little passages present in “Amoris Laetitia,” but it has to be read as a whole, with the purpose of making the Gospel of marriage and the family more attractive for persons. It is not “Amoris Laetitia” that has provoked a confused interpretation, but some confused interpreters of it. All of us must understand and accept the doctrine of Christ and of his Church, and at the same time be ready to help others to understand it and put it into practice even in difficult situations.

 

10) Since Cardinal Muller is the head of the CDF, does this mean his remarks can be taken as an authentic (authoritative) interpretation of Amoris Laetitiae?

No. Authentic interpretations by the CDF are issued in documents published by the Congregation and approved by the pope.

They are not made in interviews with apologetics magazines.

 

11) Could we see Cardinal Muller’s remarks as an unofficial response to the questions submitted by the four cardinals? I.e., that the pope doesn’t want to respond officially at this time, so he asked Cardinal Muller to give an unofficial response?

This is not likely. If we knew nothing else about Pope Francis’s views on the interpretation of Amoris Laetitiae, this would be a reasonable conjecture. However, we do know more.

We have significant evidence that Pope Francis has a different view (as acknowledged even in this piece by Fr. Raymond de Sousa, which is perhaps the most optimistic I have read).

However, thus far Pope Francis has not issued an authentic interpretation of the disputed points in Amoris Laetitiae, nor has he authorized the CDF to publish one.

It therefore appears that Cardinal Muller is giving his own views about how the document should be interpreted and that these views differ from the way Pope Francis would like to see the document interpreted.

 

12) For the pope and the head of the CDF to disagree on a point like this seems very serious. What should we do?

Pray for them both—and for the Church as a whole.

How the Resurrection Narratives Fit Together

resurrection-33People are sometimes confused by the differences in the Gospels’ infancy narratives and their resurrection narratives. Sometimes it is claimed that they contradict each other.

I’ve already written about how the infancy narratives fit together. You can read that here.

Now I’d like to show how the Gospels’ resurrection narratives fit together, not only with each other but also with information about this period from Acts and 1 Corinthians.

When I first began studying this issue, I was startled by how easily the resurrection narratives fit together.

To see how this happens, one needs to bear in mind a few aspects of the way the Evangelists wrote, because the ancient Greek genre of a bios (“life”) worked differently than a modern biography.

In particular, it is important to note that the Evangelists had the freedom to:

  1. Choose which details they will record or omit
  2. Choose the order in which to present events
  3. Present things Jesus said on different occasions in a single, particular location in their work
  4. Reconstruct scenes to make implications clear

In what follows, we will use the material from the Gospels after Jesus has been buried. We will also deal with material from the beginning of Acts and from 1 Corinthians 15.

One passage of special note is the longer endings of Mark. The original narrative of Mark cuts off at Mark 16:8. Whether Mark stopped writing at this point or whether he composed an ending which has been lost is debated by scholars.

However, it is generally agreed that the material which follows (Mark 16:9-20) was composed afterwards—either by Mark or by another author. We will refer to it as the longer ending of Mark. Even if it was not produced by Mark’s hand, it represents traditions about Jesus that were of very early date and in circulation in the first century Christian community.

 

1) Securing the Tomb (Matt. 27:62-66)

Matthew records that, after Jesus was buried, the chief priests and Pharisees went to Pilate and asked for a guard to be posted at the tomb. This is an event recorded only by Matthew, and it does not contradict anything contained in the other accounts, which simply do not mention it.

This is not a problem, because the Evangelists were free to choose which traditions about Jesus they included in their accounts. The sheer number of traditions made it impossible to include them all—a point that John makes explicitly (see John 21:25).

 

2) The Moved Stone (Matt. 28:1-4, Mark 16:1-5, Luke 24:1-4, John 20:1)

All four Evangelists record that, after the Sabbath, on the first day of the week, certain women went to the tomb.

Matthew says it was “toward dawn” (Matt. 28:1), Mark says it was “very early . . . when the sun had risen” (Mark 16:2), Luke says it was “at early dawn” (Luke 24:1), and John says it was “while it was still dark” (John 20:1). This last statement need not mean it was completely dark, just that it wasn’t full daylight yet.

These all point to the same basic time of day, and it is likely that the women left before dawn and that the sun came up while they were involved in this effort.

All four Evangelists mention Mary Magdalene as being among the women (Matt. 28:1, Mark 16:1, Luke 24:10, John 20:1). Matthew adds that “the other Mary” was there (Matt. 28:1). This person seems to be identified in Mark and Luke as “Mary the mother of James” (Mark 16:1, Luke 24:10). Mark also adds that Salome was there (Mark 16:1), and Luke adds that Joanna and “the other women with them” were present (Luke 24:10).

There is no contradiction involved in the variation regarding which women are mentioned as being present, per the principle that the Evangelists can choose which details they will record.

We can conjecture why each Evangelist mentioned the particular women he did. For example, Richard Bauckham has pointed out that named people in the Gospels often indicate the bearers of the traditions that were drawn on by the Evangelists (see his book, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses), and so it may be that the named women were ones whose traditions of the event were used by the respective Evangelists. (After all, no men were there.)

Literary concerns may also be involved. For example, John mentions only Mary Magdalene, and it may be because he wants to keep his narrative streamlined, simple, and focused on her, because he is going to record information from her that is not preserved by the other Evangelists.

Mark and Luke mention that the women brought spices for the body (Mark 16:1, Luke 24:1).

Mark also records that the women were trying to figure out who would roll the stone away from the tomb for them (Mark 16:3).

We now come to one of the points where many people wonder how to reconcile the Gospels. According to Matthew, “there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone, and sat upon it” (Matt. 28:2), but the other three Evangelists say that the women saw that the stone was rolled back (Mark 16:4, Luke 24:2, John 20:1).

There is certainly a difference in how Matthew describes this event compared to the other three, but before we seek to explain it, we should note that the other three do mention there being angels involved (Mark 16:5, Luke 24:4, John 20:12). This will be important to understanding the reason that Matthew recounts the incident in the way he does.

All four Evangelists also describe the angels in similar terms. Matthew says his angel’s appearance was “like lightning” (i.e., dazzling) and his clothes were white as snow (Matt. 28:3). Mark says the angel wore a white robe (Mark 16:5). Luke says there were two angels “in dazzling apparel” (Luke 24:4). And John says they were “in white” (John 20:12).

All four also mention the angels’ posture. Matthew says his angel sat on the rock outside the tomb (Matt. 28:2). Mark says he sat inside the tomb, on the right side (Mark 16:5). Luke says they stood by (Luke 24:4). And John says they sat in the tomb where the body of Jesus had lain, “one at the head and one at the feet” (John 20:12).

We thus see considerable convergence among all the Evangelists. They all agree that the stone was moved back and that there was at least one angel in white/dazzling clothes there.

The differences in the descriptions are minor and concern whether the angel was seen rolling away the stone, whether there was one or two angels, whether he/they were seated or standing, and—if seated—where.

All of these details fall within the liberty that the Evangelists have in how they record events. For a start, Matthew and Mark may have chosen to mention only one of the two angels to simplify their narratives.

The angels may have sat during part of the encounter (as in Matthew, Mark, and John) and also stood (as in Luke). More likely, the angels may have sat inside the tomb (as in Mark and John), while Matthew depicted the angel sitting outside as part of his reconstruction of the scene (see below), and Luke simply recorded them being present, without meaning to imply a particular posture (the Greek verb—ephistēmi—can mean “to be present” or even “to appear”).

It is also worth noting that Mark’s description of the angel sitting on the right and John’s description of the angels sitting at the head and foot of where Jesus lay are compatible. In fact, if you enter the tomb at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem, the place where Jesus lay is on the right, and the angels could have sat at its head and foot.

The most significant difference in the accounts is between Matthew’s presentation of the angel rolling away the stone and the other Evangelists’ presentation of the stone as already being rolled away when the women arrive.

Matthew’s statement (“And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone, and sat upon it,” v. 2) could be taken to mean that the angel descended in front of the women but that the events of vv. 2-4 occurred while they were going to the tomb, and the angel did not interact with the women until they arrived in v. 5. While this reading is possible, it is unlikely in view of Matthew’s statement that the angel sat on the stone, which seems to suggest the women as witnesses of his descent.

Since Matthew used Mark and therefore had read Mark’s account of the tomb being found already open, his sequencing events is likely due to literary reasons to make the implications of the event clearer to readers: Someone rolled away the stone, and the other Evangelists do not record who.

Matthew describes the incident the way he does to make it clear that it was not any ordinary, human agency that moved the stone. Neither did Jesus do so (he was already gone). Instead, the stone was moved by angelic agency, specifically to allow the women access to the tomb.

Matthew thus depicts this happening to make what is implicit in the other Gospels clear to the reader. (This is similar to the way that Matthew reconstructs the account of the Centurion’s Servant to make it clear that Jesus and the Centurion were the prime actors, not the intermediaries recorded by Luke; see Matt. 8:5-13, Luke 7:1-10). Having reconstructed the scene thus, Matthew then records the angel sitting on the stone.

Having already mentioned the presence of the tomb guards (Matt. 27:62-66), Matthew now (Matt. 28:4) records their fainting in reaction to the arrival of the angel and the moving of the stone (even if, chronologically, this happened before the women arrived).

 

3) Peter at the Tomb (Luke 24:12, John 20:2-10)

Both Luke and John record a visit by Peter to the tomb. John’s account, which is much longer, records significantly more detail. The most notable additional detail is the presence of the beloved disciple, from whose viewpoint the incident is recounted. The absence of the beloved disciple from Luke’s version is accounted for by the Evangelists’ freedom to choose which details to include.

The other significant difference is the fact that, in John’s account, the visit to the tomb occurs before any of the women have met the angels. In his version, as soon as the empty tomb is discovered, Mary Magdalene—thinking that Jesus’ body has been stolen—runs and informs Peter and the beloved disciple, who then rush to the tomb to investigate.

In Luke’s account, however, Peter’s visit occurs after the women have seen the angels and reported their message.

The difference is accounted for by the Evangelists’ freedom to choose the order in which the material is presented.

Because of John’s interest in exact chronology elsewhere in his Gospel, and because he is giving eyewitness testimony, it is probable that his version of the event is the chronologically exact one. Luke places the visit to the tomb later either for literary reasons or simply because he knew the tradition of Peter visiting the tomb but did not know or wasn’t sure where in the sequence it occurred.

Another, very minor difference in the accounts is that in Luke Peter stoops and looks into the tomb, seeing the discarded grave clothes, while in John he enters the tomb. The omission of Peter’s entry into the tomb may be caused by Luke having a lack of specific details about the event: He knew Peter went there, he knew Peter saw the grave clothes in the tomb, and he knew Peter went home, but he may not have known that Peter actually entered the tomb.

Both Luke and John record the need to stoop to see or enter the tomb (Luke 24:12, John 20:5, 11), suggesting an authentic tradition of the tomb’s physical structure.

Both Evangelists also record a confusion or lack of faith in connection with this incident. Luke records that Peter went home, “wondering what had happened” (Luke 24:12), and John remarks that the disciples “did not know the scripture, that he must rise from the dead” (John 20:9).

(John also says that the beloved disciple “saw and believed” at this point; John 20:8; this is usually taken to mean that the beloved disciple came to faith earlier than the other disciples; alternately, it may mean that he had a kind of incipient faith but did not fully understand or simply that he believed Mary Magdalene that the body was gone.)

 

4) The Angelic Message (Matt. 28:5-8, Mark 16:6-8, Luke 24:5-8, John 20:11-13)

All four Evangelists record the angel(s) giving a message to the women:

  • Luke reports that the women were terrified and bowed low (Luke 24:5a)
  • In Matthew, the angel tells the women not to be afraid (Matt. 28:5a), while in Mark he tells them not to be amazed (Mark 16:6a).
  • In Matthew and Mark the angel says that he knows the women are seeking Jesus, who was crucified (Matt. 28:5b, Mark 16:6b).
  • Luke says the angels asked why the women were seeking the living among the dead (Luke 25:5b).
  • All three Synoptic Evangelists report the angel(s) saying, “He is not here” and “He is risen” (Matt. 28:6a, Mark 16:6c, Luke 25:5c).
  • Matthew and Mark then record the angel inviting them to see where Jesus lay (Matt. 28:6b, Mark 16:6d).
  • Luke records the angels reminding them that, when he was in Galilee, Jesus had predicted his crucifixion and resurrection (Luke 24:6-7). He also records the women remembering this (Luke 24:8).
  • Matthew and Luke record the angel instructing the women to go and tell the disciples (Matt. 28:7a, Mark 16:7a; Mark mentions Peter in particular).
  • In Matthew, the angel says to inform the disciples that Jesus has risen (Matt. 28:7b).
  • In both Matthew and Mark, the angel says to tell the disciples that Jesus is going before them to Galilee, where they will see him (Matt. 28:7c, Mark 16:7b).
  • All three Synoptic Evangelists then report the women leaving to tell the disciples (Matt. 28:8, Mark 16:8, Luke 24:9). (NOTE: In Mark’s version, v. 8 ends saying that the women didn’t say anything to anyone because they were afraid. It is at this point that the original version of Mark breaks off. However, given what the women were told and what the reader knows about what happened next, this certainly means that they didn’t say anything to anyone while they were on their way to the disciples. They were not disobeying the angel; they were leaving to fulfill his instructions. They simply weren’t joyously announcing the news to passers-by as they went.)

All of these variations are within the Evangelists’ freedom to paraphrase and choose which details to record. They are clearly different accounts of the same event.

John’s account of the angelic message is significantly different, and it is the briefest. In his version, the angels ask Mary Magdalene why she is weeping, and she replies that she does not know where Jesus’ body has been taken (John 20:13). He does not preserve further interaction with them.

The reason is likely twofold: First, John expects the reader to already know the Synoptic tradition (as illustrated by the fact that he seems to have built his Gospel to interlock with the outline of Mark’s Gospel; see Richard Bauckham, “John for Readers of Mark” in The Gospels for All Christians). He thus doesn’t feel the need to repeat everything that was said.

Second, John is setting up Mary’s unexpected meeting with Jesus himself, and to convey the emotional force of this in literary terms, he transitions from the briefest account of her interaction with the angels to her unexpected, face-to-face encounter Jesus.

My assumption, in this and each of the encounters involving the women, is that they were all present, though sometimes only Mary Magdalene is mentioned because she was the major preserver of the tradition that the evangelists drew on since they weren’t there for the encounter.

 

5) Meeting Jesus (Matt. 28:9-10, Mark 16:9, John 20:14-17)

Matthew, John, and the longer ending to Mark record that, after the angelic encounter, Jesus himself appeared.

In John and the longer ending of Mark, it is to Mary Magdalene that Jesus appears (John 20:14, Mark 16:9). In Matthew, it is the same women who went to the tomb (Matt. 28:9).

The longer ending of Mark does not preserve any information about what happened during this encounter.

John’s account, which is lengthy, includes significant interaction with Mary Magdalene.

In Matthew’s version, the women take hold of Jesus’ feet and worship him (Matt. 28:9), while in John, Jesus tells Mary not to hold him (John 20:17).

In both Matthew and John, Jesus tells the women/Mary Magdalene to deliver a message to the disciples (Matt. 28:10, John 20:17). In Matthew the message is to go to Galilee, where they will see him. In John it is that he will be ascending to the Father.

While the Gospels are in agreement about the occurrence of this encounter, its specific chronology is harder to pin down. Matthew gives the impression that the women first left the tomb and then Jesus appeared to them, including Mary Magdalene (cf. Matt. 28:1). John gives the impression that Mary (presumably with the other women still there) encountered Jesus at the tomb and then left.

It is possible that all the women except Mary Magdalene left the tomb and that Jesus appeared to both. However, this seems overly complex—particularly when the issue of touching or clinging to Jesus appears in both Matthew and John’s accounts.

John’s account is the most detailed—and certainly draws on traditions from Mary Magdalene herself. John is also demonstrably more interested in specific chronology than the other evangelists. Consequently, it seems probable that the picture presented by John reflects the specific chronology of what happened.

 

6) Explaining the Empty Tomb (Matt. 28:11-15)

Matthew reports that, while the women are on their way to the disciples, the guards from the tomb return to those who sent them and an explanation for the empty tomb is concocted.

 

7) Telling the Core Disciples (Mark 16:10-11, Luke 24:9-11, John 20:18)

Luke, John, and the longer ending of Mark report that Mary Magdalene/the women delivered the message to the disciples in a body (Mark 16:10, Luke 24:9, John 20:17).

Luke and the longer ending of Mark record that the message was not initially believed (Mark 16:11, Luke 24:11).

 

8) Jesus Appears to Two Disciples (Mark 16:12-13, Luke 24:13-35)

Both Luke and the longer ending of Mark record Jesus appearing to two disciples in the country, without them recognizing him.

Luke’s account is much more detailed, and the account in the longer ending of Mark may well be based on Luke’s version.

In Mark, Jesus is said to appear “in another form” (Mark 16:12), while in Luke it is said that “their eyes were kept from recognizing him” (Luke 24:16). These need not be understood in opposition, for appearing in another form would keep others’ eyes from recognizing one. (Alternately, the miracle may have been one of induced prosopagnosia, with the resulting effect of Jesus manifesting in another apparent form to them.)

Both accounts agree that, when Jesus manifested himself, the two disciples returned and told the others.

The longer ending of Mark says that “they did not believe them” (Mark 16:13), while in Luke the other disciples have already believed the message of the resurrection (Luke 24:34).

Even in Luke, however, it is clear that the issue of the resurrection is not fully settled in the disciples’ hearts, as the forthcoming appearance to the core disciples shows. This may be the reason that the longer ending of Mark reflects doubt on their part at this juncture.

 

9) Jesus Appears to Peter (Luke 24:34, 1 Cor. 15:5a)

At this point in the narrative, Jesus has appeared to various women and to individual disciples, but he has not yet appeared to the apostles as a group.

Both Luke and Paul indicate that, before Jesus appeared to the twelve, he appeared to Peter in particular.

We can’t know whether this appearance occurred before or after the appearance to the two disciples in the country (or whether it happened concurrently, since God’s power transcends space and time).

Assuming Jesus wasn’t bilocating, he presumably appeared to Peter either before he appeared on the road to Emmaus or while the two disciples were coming back from Emmaus.

Since Jesus was not still with Peter and the disciples when the two returned from Emmaus, it suggests that some time has passed. It therefore seems probable that this appearance occurred before the encounter on the road.

 

10) Jesus Appears to the Core Disciples (Mark 16:14, Luke 24:36-43, John 20:19-23, 1 Cor. 15:5b)

Luke and John report that Jesus appeared to the core disciples on the evening of the day he rose (Luke 24:29 with 24:36; John 20:19).

In both, Jesus greets the disciples by saying, “Peace to/be with you” (Luke 24:36, John 20:19).

Though Luke previously depicted the core disciples as having acknowledged the resurrection (Luke 24:34), when Jesus stands before them, he tells us that “they were startled and frightened, and supposed that they saw a spirit” (Luke 24:37).

Jesus assures them that he has risen bodily (Luke 24:39), and shows his hands and feet to them (Luke 24:40). In John, he shows them his hands and his side (John 20:20).

In Luke, Jesus also asks for something to eat, and he eats fish in their presence (Luke 24:41-43). (This may also be a reflection of the fish-eating scene by the Sea of Galilee in John 21:9-15; Luke may have placed the tradition here to avoid a reference to Galilee—see below—or because he knew it happened but wasn’t sure when.)

The longer ending of Mark also records that Jesus appeared to the eleven “as they sat at table” and reprimanded them for not believing the reports they had heard (Mark 16:14). This appears to refer to the same event. It may be based on Luke’s account.

In John, he imparts the Holy Spirit to them and commissions them to forgive and retain sins (John 20:21-23).

Paul refers to Jesus appearing to the twelve, but gives no other details about the event. Based on the sequencing of events in 1 Corinthians 15, it is likely this appearance that he refers to (see below).

In both longer-Mark and Paul’s case, “the eleven” and “the twelve” are used as customary ways of referring to the group of apostles, even though Judas Iscariot and Thomas were not there, as indicated elsewhere (Matt. 27:3-5, John 20:24).

 

11) The Encounter with Thomas (John 20:24-31)

John, uniquely, records that Thomas was not with the other disciples during the previous encounter, and he records that Thomas did not initially believe the other disciples’ report (John 20:25). However, “eight days later” (John 20:26), Thomas is with them, and Jesus invites him to inspect his wounds (John 20:27).

 

12) Encounter at the Sea of Galilee (John 21:1-25)

John records a subsequent encounter in Galilee on the Sea of Tiberias, during which Jesus (apparently) eats fish in the presence of the disciples (John 21:9-15).

This tradition may be reflected in Luke’s reference to him eating fish in his account of the evening appearance (Luke 24:41-43), in which case Luke likely knew the tradition of Jesus eating fish and placed it in the previous encounter since he knew they were at table on that occasion.

 

13) Appearance to Five Hundred Brethren (1 Cor. 15:6)

St. Paul depicts the appearance to five hundred as occurring after the appearance to the twelve and before the appearance to James. We do not know precisely when it occurred, but this is a reasonable place to locate it.

 

14) Appearance to James (1 Cor. 15:7a)

St. Paul indicates that the appearance to St. James the Just occurred after Jesus appeared to the five hundred brethren and before his appearance to “all the apostles.”

We do not know precisely when it occurred, but this is a reasonable place to locate it, particularly in view of the fact that the scene has shifted to Galilee, where Jesus’ brothers presumably lived at this time (not yet having become believers; cf. John 7:5; and not yet having come to live in Jerusalem; cf. Acts 15:13).

 

15) Jesus’ Evangelistic Instructions (Matt. 28:16-20, Mark 16:15-18, Luke 24:44-49; 1 Cor. 15:7b)

Matthew, Luke, and the longer ending of Mark record Jesus giving the disciples a set of final, evangelistic instructions. As we will see, these instructions may have been given during a series of occasions (cf. Acts 1:3) that cannot be untangled. This is similar to the way Matthew draws together Jesus’ ethical teachings, which were given many times throughout his ministry (and which are found at different places in Luke) and presents them together in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5-7).

In Matthew, Jesus’ final evangelistic instructions are delivered on a mountain in Galilee (Matt. 28:16). In Luke and the longer ending of Mark, the place is not specified but would appear to be the same location as the evening appearance described above, in which case it would have taken place in Jerusalem. Particularly noteworthy is that in Luke’s account Jesus tells them to “stay in the city, until you are clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49).

These locations—Galilee and Jerusalem—are considered one of the more challenging differences in the resurrection narratives, but they are not problematic. There are several possibilities:

First, one could say that, just as the Evangelists have the freedom to present material in a non-chronological manner for literary reasons, they also have the freedom to present it in a non-geographical manner for literary reasons.

If so, Matthew might present his final evangelistic instructions on a mountain in Galilee because of the literary suitedness of this setting. Mountains are frequent places of encounter with the divine, and we have multiple significant mounts in Matthew alone. Galilee, for its part, was Jesus’ home base during the bulk of his ministry, and a return to a mountain in Galilee could make an apt literary setting for Jesus’ final evangelistic instructions.

However, there are other options.

Second, it may be noted that Luke—and Mark’s longer ending—do not expressly state that this is occurring in Jerusalem. This is simply the appearance generated by the fact that the last mentioned location was Jerusalem. Jesus could have given these instructions in Galilee (even the comment found in Luke telling the disciples to remain in “the city”—meaning Jerusalem—which would imply that they were to make a trip back to Jerusalem).

Third, there is no need to choose between having the disciples both visit Galilee and Jerusalem during this period. Indeed, this is the tradition represented by John. In John, Jesus appears to the disciples both in Jerusalem (John 20:19-23) and in Galilee (John 21:1-25). The same thing seems to happen in longer Mark, where a visit to Galilee is implied in the original ending (Mark 16:7) and Jesus also appears, apparently, in Jerusalem (Mark 16:12-14).

On this view, Matthew would have chosen to omit the Jerusalem traditions because of the way he wanted to end his Gospel, with the appearance on a mountain in Galilee.

By contrast, Luke would have chosen to omit the Galilee traditions because of the way he wanted to end his Gospel and begin Acts, with the Ascension, which occurred in the Jerusalem area (Luke 24:50-52, Acts 1:4, 8-12).

It may be noted that Luke used Mark and, even if he had access only to the shorter version of Mark, he thus would have been exposed to the tradition that Jesus appeared to the disciples in Galilee after his resurrection. Since Luke does not preserve this tradition, we may infer that he chose not to use it because of the way he wanted to end his Gospel and begin Acts.

Indeed, since Luke tells us that Jesus appeared to the disciples multiple times during a period of forty days (Acts 1:3), it is likely Jesus spent much of this time preparing them for their upcoming mission by giving them evangelistic instructions, and—in keeping with the traditions preserved in the four Gospels and Acts—some of these instructions were given in Galilee and some in the Jerusalem area.

Luke also says that Jesus “presented himself alive after his passion by many proofs” to the disciples, which may be a deliberate gesture to traditions preserved in the other Gospels and in 1 Corinthians, even if they are not found in Luke/Acts. In view of this statement, we should thus seek to read Luke/Acts in harmony with the other materials.

Given the fact that Jesus likely gave evangelistic instructions on multiple occasions in this period, we should not too closely tie particular remarks with particular locations. He likely reiterated the same things on multiple occasions, and the eyewitnesses were not interested with noting precisely which things he said in precisely which locations. It would be overtaxing the Gospel narratives to expect that kind of precision, just as it would be to expect most of Jesus’ parables to have been said in particular locations on particular occasions, rather than simply being things that Jesus said which the Evangelists needed to put in appropriate places in order to record them.

Finally, we may note that Paul records that Jesus appeared to “all the apostles” after he appeared to James (1 Cor. 15:7b). This is an interesting statement, since he recorded an earlier post-resurrection appearance to “the twelve” (1 Cor. 15:5b).

It is presumably to be explained by the fact that not all of the apostles were members of the twelve. Barnabas and Paul, for example, were not (Acts 14:14). While Paul separates out the appearance Jesus made to him as a separate encounter (1 Cor. 15:8), which occurred after the Ascension (Acts 9:3-7), it is possible that Jesus made a collective appearance to the twelve and others who counted as apostles, such as Barnabas. If so, this presumably would have happened before the Ascension, and so we place the event here, in the same forty days that Jesus gave evangelistic instructions to his core disciples.

On the other hand, Paul (and the creed he is thought to be quoting) may not intend a single appearance to “all the apostles.” The thought may be that Jesus appeared to all the apostles in one way or another, at one time or another, in which case a single event is not in view.

 

16) The Ascension (Mark 16:19-20, Luke 24:50-53, Acts 1:3-11)

The post-resurrection narratives come to a conclusion with the Ascension, which is recorded in Luke, Acts, and the longer ending of Mark.

In Luke, this event occurs when Jesus has led the disciples “as far as Bethany” (Luke 24:50), while in Acts Luke says that they afterward returned “from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day’s journey away” (Acts 1:12). This is not a contradiction, because Bethany was located near the east foot of the Mount of Olives.

In the longer ending of Mark, no location for the event is stated. It is simply presented as occurring after Jesus gives his final evangelistic instructions. The author therefore does not assert any particular location for it.

 

Gospel Sequencing

One thing that may not be obvious from a quick reading of the preceding commentary is the way in which the material from the different sources—Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, and 1 Corinthians—fits together.

While individual sources may omit particular traditions, they almost never resequence them. The material they present dovetails together in such a way that, with a few very small exceptions, all of the material fits together in sequence.

Examine the verse numbers in the section headings above, and you will see how they proceed forward through each Gospel.

Acts, having only one element in the above treatment—the Ascension—can’t help but fit this pattern, but the material from 1 Corinthians does also.

The fact that the pattern holds for each of the other sources is very remarkable, and it reveals that they are each describing the same chronological sequence of events, with only minor variations.

The variations are as follows:

  1. Matthew 28:2 appears to relate the descent of the angel later than it happened chronologically, to make the it clear to the reader who rolled the stone away.
  2. Matthew 28:8-9 seems to suggest that the women left the tomb and then encountered Jesus, while John 20:14-18 seems to suggest that the women encountered Jesus at the tomb and then left it. Both are possible if the group split (i.e., most of the women left while Mary remained at the tomb), but it seems more likely that John’s account reflects the strict chronology of what happened.
  3. Luke 24:12 records Peter’s visit to the tomb. For reasons explained above, we have grouped this verse with John’s account of the visit, which is the one more likely to be presented in the chronologically exact order.
  4. Luke 24:41-43 may record the tradition of Jesus eating fish out of its chronological sequence, which is preserved in John 21:9-15. However, this is uncertain, since Jesus may have eaten fish in the disciples’ presence more than once (it was a very common dish, especially for fishermen), and John 21 does not explicitly say that Jesus ate fish on that occasion, though it seems to be implied by their common breakfasting on fish.

(Luke’s reference to Jesus’ appearance to Peter, preserved in Luke 24:34, might seem to be an exception, but it is not, because it is described within the narrative as having already happened, making it a kind of flashback, and thus an event Luke knowingly presents out of sequence.)

The fact that the material from the resurrection narratives so easily fits together, with only a tiny number of minor details seeming to be resequenced, is a startling and unexpected testimony to the fundamental harmony of these accounts.

 

Proposed Chronology

Based on the above, I would propose the following chronology for the overall sequence of events:

  • (Good Friday) A guard is set over the tomb (Matt. 27:62-66)
  • (Between Saturday night and Sunday morning) Jesus is resurrected and leaves the tomb
  • (Easter Sunday morning) An angel descends and rolls away the stone to allow the women access (Matt. 28:2-3)
  • The guards faint (Matt. 28:4)
  • The women leave for the tomb (Matt. 28:1, Mark 16:1-2, Luke 24:1, John 20:1a)
  • They find the tomb open (Mark 16:3-4, Luke 24:2, John 20:1b)
  • The women—or at least Mary Magdalene—run and tell Simon Peter, who then visits the tomb, sees that it is empty, and returns home (Luke 24:12, John 20:2-20)
  • The women, including Mary Magdalene, remain at the tomb. Upon entering it, they encounter angels, who speak to them (Matt. 24:5-7, Mark 16:5-7, Luke 24:3-8, John 20:11-13)
  • Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene and the other women (Matt. 28:9-10, Mark 16:9, John 20:14-17)
  • The women leave to inform the disciples what has happened (Matt. 28:8, Mark 16:8, Luke 24:9a)
  • Some of the guard leaves to inform the authorities what has happened (Matt. 28:11-15)
  • The women tell the disciples what has happened (Mark 16:10-11, Luke 24:9b-11, John 20:18)
  • Jesus appears to Peter (Luke 24:34, 1 Cor. 15:5a)
  • Jesus appears to the disciples on the road to Emmaus (Mark 16:12-13, Luke 24:13-35)
  • (Easter Sunday night) Jesus appears to the core disciples but without Thomas (Mark 16:14, Luke 24:36-43, John 20:19-23, 1 Cor. 15:5b)
  • (The next Sunday) Jesus appears to the disciples with Thomas present (John 20:24-31)
  • (Also between Easter and Ascension Thursday) The encounter at the Sea of Galilee (John 21:1-25)
  • The appearance to five hundred brethren (1 Cor. 15:6)
  • The appearance to James (1 Cor. 5:17a)
  • Jesus gives evangelistic instructions to the disciples (Matt. 28:16-20, Mark 16:15-18, Luke 24:44-49, Acts 1:3-5, 1 Cor. 15:7b)
  • (Ascension Thursday) Jesus ascends into heaven (Mark 16:19-20, Luke 24:50-53, Acts 1:6-11)

Meet Jack Chick

jackchick2_1Anti-Catholic comic book writer/artist Jack Chick passed away on Sunday, October 23, 2016.

Eternal rest grant to him, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon him.

As far as I know, I’m the only Catholic apologist ever to meet him.

Below is an account of that meeting, originally published in the March, 2004 issue of This Rock (now Catholic Answers Magazine).

For decades the cartoon tracts of Jack T. Chick have fascinated and horrified. Their pages contain the most extreme, paranoid conspiracy theories imaginable. Among other things, Chick publications will tell you that:

  • the Catholic Church keeps “the name of every Protestant church member in the world” in a “big computer” in the Vatican for use in future persecutions (see his tract My Name . . . In the Vatican? );
  • through the Jesuits, the Vatican runs an extensive conspiracy that includes the Illuminati, the Council on Foreign Relations, international bankers, the Mafia, the Club of Rome, the Masons, and the New Age movement, among others (Four Horsemen);
  • the Catholic conspiracy also includes creating venomously anti-Catholic movements such as Communism, the Ku Klux Klan, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormonism, and Islam (The Big BetrayalThe Godfathers: Alberto Part ThreeThe Force: Alberto Part FourThe Prophet: Alberto Part Six).

Chick’s material is weirdly compelling. It is amateurish, lurid, ham-fisted, and viciously hateful at times. But it is intense, and something about that intensity makes people want to read it. His tracts generate a kind of bizarre fascination. Since he first began publishing them, Chick has distributed over half a billion, making him the most published comic book author in the world.

Yet little is known of him. The seventy-nine-year-old Chick is a recluse. His office does not give tours, he never allows his photo to be taken, and he never, ever gives interviews. Little is known about him beyond what is revealed in the biography on his web site, www.chick.com.

Recently Chick has ventured out of the world of comic book publishing to produce a feature-length movie entitled The Light of the World. I received an unexpected invitation to the premier of the movie. Writing movie reviews is a hobby of mine, and the camp value alone of a Chick film would make it worth reviewing, so I made the trek to the premier—and got more than I imagined I would.

The Light of the World premiered in Ontario, California, where Chick Publications is based. The site was an old auditorium that would have been dazzling in the 1940s and that still boasted an impressive main theater. As I approached it an hour before the screening was scheduled to begin, a small group of people, including a number of elderly men, was out front.

Could one of these men be Jack Chick? I wondered, then answered my own question: probably not. No doubt he’d seen the completed film, and with his reclusive tendencies he wasn’t likely to show up.

Still, I kept an eye out, particularly for an elderly man with a young Asian woman. (After the death of his wife a few years ago, Chick married an Asian woman much younger than himself.)

In the foyer of the auditorium, representatives of Chick Publications had tables set up where copies of the film were on sale on VHS and DVD. One table was cash only, one check only, and one credit card only. Having a copy of the film would let me get exact quotes for a critique of the film, but I didn’t really want to give my credit card or checking account number to a bunch of conspiracy theorists. I approached the cash only table.

Once I had the copy in hand, I began to contemplate the fact that I had just driven two hours to get to the theater, the screening wouldn’t even begin for another hour, and it would be almost midnight before I got back home to San Diego. The thought of driving back and watching the DVD in the comfort of my own living room was attractive, and I was on the verge of heading home when I decided to take one more look around to see if I could spot Chick.

I was sitting in the back row, so I had a good view of the theater. Nobody looked like an obvious candidate to be Chick. The folks in the front row were too young. I couldn’t see an elderly man with Asian wife. There was an elderly guy sitting alone on the far side of my row, talking with a few people in the aisle. I heard one of them say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

I took a closer look at him. He had white hair, glasses, and was wearing a white dress shirt and dark slacks. He had a fancy gold wristwatch (a Rolex?)—the kind that you could afford if you’d sold half a billion tracts.

If it were Chick, what would I say to him? The apologist in me would have loved to debate him theologically. Part of me would want to ask him futile questions like “You don’t really believe all that stuff you publish, do you?” But I decided that, if it was Chick, the most charitable thing I could do was simply be nice to him and chat.

Moving a few seats closer to him, I heard him tell the people, “We got started about forty years ago . . .” Doing some quick math in my head, I realized that was when Chick Publications began.

I moved to the seat next to him (well, technically, next to his jacket, which was draped on th seat next to him), and, when the well-wishers moved on, I said, “Excuse me, sir. Are you Jack Chick?”

“I am,” he replied, smiling warmly. “What’s your name?”

“Jimmy Akin,” I replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

We shook hands, and he asked me, “What do you do?”

“I’m an evangelist.”

His face brightened. “Praise God!” But then his eyes studied me a moment. Wearing a Stetson, cowboy boots, faded blue jeans, and a Texas belt buckle, I didn’t look like the typical suit-and-tie evangelist from Chick’s Fundamentalist world.

“I’ve read a lot of your comic tracts,” I said as he settled back into his seat.

“We have plans for a lot more,” he replied.

“You’re going to be doing a lot after the film?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “That’s in their hands now,” he said, referring to the Light of the World Project, which has hopes to translate the film into a thousand languages. “There were times when I thought we would never be finished with it.”

“I understand you’ve been working on it for ten years.”

“Fifteen,” he corrected. “I think it will help a lot of pastors. It should get a lot of people sold—uh, saved.”

Was that a Freudian slip? Given Chick’s tendency to devote publication after publication to the sensationalist claims of men who were later exposed as religious con men, there has been some question of whether he really believes his own publications. Some have suggested he is simply in it for the money.

Another group of well-wishers came by to greet him, and while they did I fished out a pen and a tract promoting the film that I had been given at the door. When he turned back to me, I asked for his autograph.

He laughed heartily, as if he wasn’t used to giving autographs. I handed him the tract and pen, and he looked around for a hard surface to sign it.

“Here, use this,” I said, handing him my Light of the World DVD.

He signed and handed the articles back to me. His signature matched the version I had seen printed in his publications.

Originally, Chick did all the art for his tracts, but in 1972 he began working with a then unknown artist. Fans noticed the difference immediately. Since the artist never signed his name, and since his style was much more realistic than Chick’s, fans speculated for years who “the good artist” was. In 1980, Chick revealed that the other artist was an African-American named Fred Carter, whom Chick claimed was shy and did not wish to have his name on his work.

“The artist who does the comic books . . .” I began, blanking on the gentleman’s name.

“Fred Carter,” Chick said. “He’s a pastor. I’m really hoping he’s going to be here tonight.”

Cool, I thought. Maybe I could meet him, too. 

“I really like his work,” I said. “He has a wonderful technique.”

“Yes, he does.”

“I practiced for a long time to be a comic book artist. I really like the way he uses Zip-A-Tone,” I said, referring to a technique comic book artists uses to create detailed textures in their work.

Chick agreed.

“Have you ever used any other artists, or has it just been the two of you?”

“No, just the two of us,” he said.

Score! I thought. One more rumor about Chick disconfirmed.

“Are you affiliated with any church?” Chick asked me.

“Catholic,” I replied. Chick’s eyes widened.

“Oh? You have a Catholic background?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I love Catholics,” he assured me.

“Uh-huh,” I said, already familiar with the I-love-Catholics-that’s-why-I-attack-their-faith routine used by countless Fundamentalists.

“Well. A Catholic evangelist!” Chick mused. “Are you a Jesuit?”

It was my turn to laugh. If Jack didn’t believe his comics’ paranoid conspiracy theories about Jesuits, he was acting as though he did.

“No, I’m just a layman. I’m not even a priest. I’m not an anything,” I said, hoping to reassure him that I wasn’t a sinister Vatican agent. Perhaps a brief profession of faith might help. “We have our differences,” I told him, “but we both worship God—and his Son, Jesus.”

Chick made what was probably best read as a pleasant but non-committal acknowledgement.

“I’m sure the Pope will have seen this movie by next week,” he said.

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure it’ll be going out on a plane. They have all my stuff at the Vatican.”

“I see.”

Since he’d signed a tract for me on the back of my Light of the World DVD, he might think that my copy was the very one that would be sent to the Pope.

“I’m one of the few who stands up against Rome,” Jack continued. “That all started years ago when I met Alberto. Do you know about Alberto?”

“Yes,” I said.

Alberto Rivera’s conspiracy theories are the subjects of many of Chick’s comics and tracts. Rivera claimed to be an ex-Jesuit sent to infiltrate and destroy Protestant churches for the Vatican. He was later exposed as a fraud by Protestant publications and groups such as Christianity TodayCornerstone magazine, and the Christian Research Institute. He also was wanted by the law for writing bad checks and credit card theft, among other financial improprieties. Chick’s persistence in publishing Rivera led to his leaving the Christian Booksellers Association. Rivera died in 1997 of colon cancer.

“Alberto was murdered, you know,” Jack informed me.

“Well, I understand that he had cancer, but beyond that I’m not aware of anything,” I replied.

“Oh, yes, he was murdered.” Jack said an ex-member of the Irish Republican Army had told him of two poisons, one of which causes cancer. “And that was what they gave him.”

“I see.”

More well-wishers said hello to Jack. While they chatted I tried to think how I might be able to get a tour of Chick Publications itself. These are seldom granted, and I knew my chances were next to nil, but I had to ask. When Chick turned back to me I said, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask: Do y’all ever give tours of your place? I’d love to see where you work.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” he said.

I paused for a minute trying to think if there was a good way to ask for an exception.

“Sorry,” he smiled, knowing what I was thinking. “We have to draw the line somewhere. I don’t let my picture be taken. I’m on too many hit lists.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Yes, we get death threats every week . . . from the Muslims.”

“Yeah, we get them, too,” I said, thinking of the periodic threats we get at Catholic Answers from various groups, though not Muslims in particular.

“Really?” he said. “I wouldn’t have thought you would.” This would be a natural assumption for Chick if he believes his own propaganda about the Catholic Church starting and then later manipulating Islam. “Do you still draw a lot?”

“No, not anymore. These days I’m mostly just a writer.”

This seemed to tickle Chick’s fancy.

“Really?” he chuckled at an unstated irony, perhaps thinking of his own evolution from being a writer and illustrator to being principally a writer. “Where do you work?” he asked.

“In San Diego.” I realized immediately this probably wasn’t what he was asking. “At Catholic Answers,” I said.

Jack laughed uproariously.

“You know of us?” I asked.

” O-o-o-h, yes,” he said mirthfully.

Over the years Catholic Answers has conducted a number of campaigns to educate people about the paranoid anti-Catholicism in Chick’s tracts. We have sent out hundreds of thousands of pieces of educational material. No doubt some made their way to Chick’s desk. I thought of telling him that I am the author of the latest special report critiquing his work, but decided it might spoil the moment.

More well-wishers came by, and Chick informed me that his wife would soon arrive and that she would be sitting in the chair between us, where his jacket rested. I was very interested to see what she looked like. By this point, I was considering staying for the movie. Being able to say that I watched the world premier of Jack Chick’s movie sitting next to him and his wife would make it worth staying.

“I figured I’d be approached tonight,” Chick confided.

“Really? I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I said, unable to think of a way of convincing him that I wasn’t a secret agent sent to “approach” him for some evil purpose.

It was occurring to me that, despite his friendliness, Chick might well be uncomfortable with my presence—especially if he really were the paranoid conspiracy nut he appears to be. He probably was not looking forward to watching the film with a presumed Jesuit agent sitting by his side. Things were quite amicable between us, but it came as little surprise when a final group of people showed up in the aisle and Chick asked politely if I could move so that they could take the seats next to him. One in the group was his wife. Not as young as I had supposed from press accounts, but quite pretty.

“Of course,” I said as graciously as I could, and we stood up to part.

“We’re in the war,” Chick said. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from you in the future.”

“I’m sure,” I said, nodding and smiling warmly. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said, extending my hand again. Jack shook it and smiled, and that was the end of our encounter.

On the way out I saw a smartly dressed African-American man walking up the far aisle, and I suspected that he might be Fred Carter. As I approached to find out, a thin, poorly groomed man threw his arms around him and cried, “Fred! I’m so happy to see you!”

When the thin man released him, I walked up and said, “Excuse me, sir. Are you Fred Carter?”

He acknowledged that he was, and I shook his hand, saying “I’m pleased to meet you. I really like your artwork. You have an excellent technique.”

He expressed his appreciation, but I wasn’t able to strike up a conversation because the thin man suddenly became interested in me, introduced himself, and started asking about a book on St. Paul that I was carrying. Carter departed for the foyer.

As I drove home, I reflected on my meeting with the king of Fundamentalist kitsch. Chick came across as a kind, gentle old man. He was nothing but polite. He smiled. He laughed. Unlike the characters in his comic books, he didn’t say “Haw! Haw!” when he laughed. From meeting him one would never suspect him to be the most infamous broadcaster of hate and paranoia in the Christian comic book world.

Chick noted that “we’re in the war.” The only experiences I could compare meeting him to are strange wartime incidents I’ve read about where soldiers of opposing sides are able to put down their weapons and share a moment of humanity. Like when Yankees and Confederates stopped shooting at each other long enough to trade coffee and tobacco. Or when German and British soldiers climbed out of their World War I foxholes to exchange Christmas greetings.

I wondered what Chick thought of our meeting. Maybe nothing, but maybe his conspiracy-prone mind would cause it to assume larger-than-life proportions. He had read me as a potential Vatican agent making some kind of hostile “approach” to him. Maybe he would think that there was a cancer-causing poison on my palm when we shook hands.

Given Chick’s tendency to sometimes include real people in his comics—even as minor, unnamed characters—he might even record the incident. If you’re ever reading a Chick comic and see a young, bearded Jesuit agent dressed like a cowboy, it’ll probably be me.

I only hope Fred Carter does the art.

Is Mark a Transcript of Peter’s Lectures on Matthew and Luke?

peter-preachingThe Orchard hypothesis, which holds that Mark is a transcript of lectures that Peter gave on Matthew and Luke, is a unique solution to the Synoptic Problem.

It was proposed in the late 20th century by the British scholar Dom Bernard Orchard, along with other authors, including Harold Riley, David Alan Black, and Dennis Barton.

It can be seen as a variation of the Griesbach hypothesis (according to which Mark composed his Gospel from Matthew and Luke), but it is different enough that it deserves its own treatment.

The view is not common. In fact, it is quite uncommon, but this should not be held against it. The question is not how popular it is but how well the evidence supports it.

 

Resources on This View

The following resources describe and advocate this view:

Dennis Barton’s web site—ChurchInHistory.org—contains additional materials on the view, including pieces written by Orchard.

I want to personally thank Barton, who provided very kind assistance as I was researching this view.

In what follows, we will principally deal with Orchard and Riley’s book, which is the longest sustained treatment of the position in print.

 

Stating the View

The basic proposal of the Orchard hypothesis runs along the following lines (page numbers refer to The Order of the Synoptics):

  1. Matthew wrote his Gospel first, to meet the needs of Jewish Christians (cf. pp. 239-245).
  2. Luke wrote his Gospel second, based in part on Matthew, to meet the needs of Gentile Christians (cf. pp. 248-250).
  3. Luke did not publish his Gospel until after Peter had vouched for its accuracy at Rome (cf. pp. 260-262).
  4. When Luke’s Gospel was brought to him, Peter gave a series of lectures based on Matthew and Luke (cf. pp. 269-272).
  5. Mark had these lectures transcribed (cf. pp. 269, 273).
  6. Some Roman Christians demanded copies of the transcripts immediately (cf. p. 274). This amounted to a private publication of Mark’s Gospel, with its original, shorter ending, finishing at Mark 16:8 (cf. p. 272).
  7. Luke then published his Gospel, its accuracy having been attested by Peter’s lectures (cf. p. 209).
  8. Later, Mark supplemented his Gospel by providing it with its current, longer ending (i.e., Mark 16:9-20) and published a second edition (cf. pp. 264-265 n. 4, 274).

 

An Oral vs. Literary Relationship

This view differs from the standard Griesbach hypothesis in that it does not envision Mark being the one to select and combine material from Matthew and Luke. Instead, it envisions Peter playing this role. Mark simply made a transcript of Peter’s oral presentation of this material.

The link between Mark and the other two Synoptics is thus oral rather than literary. This has the potential to avoid the problem (discussed in my piece on the Griesbach hypothesis) of why Mark tends to use more words to describe the same events as Matthew and Luke and why he often combines individual words and phrases from both of them.

If Mark were abridging Matthew and Luke with copies of them in front of him then, like other ancient epitomists, he would be expected to use fewer words—not more—and he would not freely combine wording from the two but would model his wording after one Gospel or the other.

However, if Peter were lecturing from Matthew and Luke, one might suppose that he would have a larger number of words in recounting particular events, and he might more freely mix words and phrases from the two Gospels, based on his memory of what one said when he had the other in front of him.

The fact that the Orchard hypothesis proposes an oral rather than a literary use of Matthew and Luke thus potentially gets around a serious objection to the Griesbach hypothesis, which is one reason it is worthy of independent consideration (for more, see “The Composition of Mark,” below).

 

Order of Publication and Order of Composition

Another interesting aspect of the hypothesis is that it can be looked at as a combination of the Griesbach hypothesis and the Augustinian hypothesis.

According to the former, the Synoptic Gospels were composed in the order Matthew, Luke, Mark—which is what the Orchard hypothesis proposes.

However, the Orchard hypothesis also proposes that they were published in the order Matthew, Mark (1st edition), Luke—which is the same order proposed by the Augustinian hypothesis.

Normally, the order of composition and the order of publication are not distinguished (it being assumed that they were published immediately upon being composed), but if this distinction is made then it is possible to harmonize the two.

Advocates of the Orchard hypothesis thus might claim the support of patristic texts favoring both the Augustinian and the Griesbach hypotheses.

(Although Orchard appears to propose the idea that Mark’s first, private edition was released before Luke was published, he is not emphatic on this, and it is not an essential element of the proposal. The key is the idea that Mark is based on transcripts of Peter’s lectures, not the specific order of publication. One thus might reject the proposed harmonization of the two sequences without rejecting Orchard’s central hypothesis.)

 

Two More Advantages?

In The Order of the Synoptics, Orchard suggests two more advantages of his proposal over the Griesbach hypothesis (p. 275).

The first is that it provides a rationale for why there are three Synoptic Gospels: Matthew wrote for Jews, Luke wrote for Gentiles, and Mark was a product of Peter’s validation of Luke vis-à-vis Matthew.

The second is that his account of Peter’s lectures provides an explanation for why the sequence of material in Mark seems to zig-zag between the sequences used for the same material by Matthew and Luke.

To evaluate the Orchard hypothesis, we will look at the four potential advantages just named and then at the individual points of the hypothesis (the claims numbered 1-8, above).

 

An Oral Advantage?

The fact that Mark typically uses more words to recount the same events that Matthew and Luke cover and the fact that he often fuses the language of the two are both serious problems for the Griesbach hypothesis in its classical form. If Mark had Matthew and Luke in front of him, we simply would not expect to see either of these phenomena on a regular basis, but we do.

If, however, Mark is largely a transcript of Peter’s speeches based on the other two Gospels then this objection is blunted. A speaker might well use more words than a prepared text if he were speaking naturally and occasionally glancing down at the text in front of him.

Similarly, if he knew one of the texts well (and the Orchard hypothesis holds that Peter would have known Matthew’s Gospel for years) then he might well mingle snippets from that text in his oral presentation, even when that text was not in front of him.

Is there a way to test this as it applies to the Orchard hypothesis?

Perhaps. Orchard, et al., propose that at certain identifiable points in his lectures, Peter had Luke’s text in front of him, while on other occasions he had Matthew’s. It thus should be possible to compare these portions and see what kind of intermingling is being done.

If Peter knew Matthew’s Gospel well but had only recently been presented with Luke’s then we would expect a more substantial introduction of Matthean phrasing when he had Luke in front of him and a less substantial introduction of Lukan phrasing when he had Matthew in front of him.

I don’t know of anyone who has conducted an evaluation of Mark with this in mind. Until such time as this test is done, there is no way of knowing whether it would tend to confirm or disconfirm the hypothesis.

Another potential way of testing the hypothesis would involve the number of words used to tell particular stories. While it is true that a speaker, especially an eyewitness like Peter, might expand on the text in front of him, there is the question of whether we would expect this degree of expansion.

One might argue that we should expect even more expansion than what we do see. Unless an eyewitness is (for some reason) following the text in front of him very closely, we might expect him to add many more details than what Mark’s Gospel does.

Unless Peter spent an unexpectedly large proportion of his time looking down at the scrolls of Matthew and Luke and reading them almost word-for-word, we might expect him to elaborate even more—or at least to vary his wording from them more than we see him do.

On the other hand, if he wasn’t looking down constantly during the recounting of a particular incident, we might expect him to summarize it even more briefly than what we see in Mark.

Because of these variables, the construction of an objective test along these lines would be difficult, though it might still be possible.

Regardless of how these tests might turn out, we can say this: Any advantage that the Orchard hypothesis might have over the Griesbach hypothesis is a relative one. At most, it would establish that the Orchard hypothesis is relatively more likely than the Griesbach hypothesis. It would not establish that it is likely in absolute terms.

Put another way: The oral link to Matthew and Luke posited by Orchard could diminish or remove the force of objections to Griesbach, but it would not provide a positive reason to believe the Orchard hypothesis.

 

A Harmonizing Advantage?

The fact the Orchard hypothesis allows a possible way to harmonize the Augustinian hypothesis and the Griesbach hypothesis by distinguishing between the Gospels’ order of composition and their order of publication at first seems intriguing.

Wouldn’t it be great to be able to appeal for support to both patristic sources supporting the former and the latter? That seems like it would be a net advantage for the hypothesis. But a closer look is less promising.

For advocates of Orchard to claim the patristic texts supporting the Augustinian sequence (Matthew, Mark, Luke) and the Griesbach sequence (Matthew, Luke, Mark) as evidence for their view, there would have to be a causal connection between the way in which the Gospels were composed and published and what is found in the Church Fathers.

In other words: Memory of the fact that Mark was given a private publication before Luke had to be preserved and this memory would have to give rise to the Augustinian hypothesis tradition and memory of the fact that Luke was written before Mark had to be preserved and this memory would have to give rise to the Griesbach hypothesis tradition.

How likely is this?

There are problems on multiple fronts. First, it is not particularly likely that the memory of a quick, private publication of Mark before Luke would have survived and given rise to the dominant patristic view regarding the order of the Synoptics.

If anything, the fact that the composition of Mark was a byproduct of the validation of Luke would have been what stuck in people’s memories, which would have reinforced awareness that Luke had been written first.

The fact that Mark had a few quick copies made of lecture transcripts and then distributed them privately would not have been as significant an event in the life of the Church has the long-awaited publication of the “Gospel for the gentiles.”

The publication of Mark would have been too insignificant by comparison, and too reinforcing of the fact that Luke was written first, for it to be responsible for the tendency of later writers to suppose that Mark wrote before Luke did.

If anything, we would expect it to reinforce a patristic tradition that the Gospels were written in the order proposed by Griesbach, not Augustine.

This leads to a second problem, which is that there is little patristic support for the Griesbach order. As we will see below, there is at most a single quotation from Clement of Alexandria that seems to suggest this, and it may well involve a mistranslation.

Furthermore, the later writers seem to have thought that Mark wrote before Luke, not just that he published (however briefly or privately) before Luke. This means that they would have had to have remembered but misunderstood the way in which Mark came to be. They would have had to have forgotten what motivated the composition of Mark but remembered that it was released to a few individuals slightly before the much more popular Gospel of Luke and then confused the order of publication with the order of composition.

Such a sequence of events is sufficiently implausible that it does not allow the Orchard hypothesis to claim substantial support from Fathers who advocate the Augustinian view.

The most that can be said is that the Orchard hypothesis would, again, enjoy a slight relative advantage over other forms of the Griesbach hypothesis.

However, as we noted, the idea that the Gospels were published in the Augustinian sequence is a secondary aspect of the Orchard hypothesis, not one of its central features, and so one could set this matter aside.

 

Why Three Synoptics?

Orchard proposed that one advantage of his hypothesis is that it provides a credible rationale for why there are three Synoptic Gospels.

It certainly provides a rationale, but this is of limited value because it is quite speculative and substantially coincides with rival views.

The parts of the rationale that are the firmest—that Matthew wrote more for Jews than Gentiles and that Luke did the reverse—are agreed upon by all, and they are not unique to the Orchard hypothesis.

There is also a danger of overstating the ethnic orientations of these two Gospels. All four Gospels—including Matthew—display significant interest in Gentiles, and Luke contains a significant amount of material that is distinctly Jewish in orientation (e.g., in his Infancy Narrative).

(Indeed, the fact Matthew displays significant interest in Gentiles suggests that it was written after the conversion of a significant number of Gentiles began, which would place it after the A.D. 30-44 period that Orchard proposes for its composition. This dating, however, is another secondary aspect of the hypothesis, not an essential feature.)

The unique contribution that the Orchard hypothesis could make to an understanding of why there are three Synoptics concerns the way Mark came to be.

The idea that Mark is a transcript of lectures that Peter gave to validate Luke relative to Matthew certainly is a rationale for why Mark was written, and in general views that can provide rationales are to be preferred to those that do not, but one has to ask whether the rationale that is provided is the most plausible one available.

As we will see, the rationale provided by Orchard is speculative and not well-supported by either patristic or internal evidence. Further, there are other potential explanations for why there are three Synoptics (e.g., Mark wrote first but was deemed too short and incomplete, so Matthew expanded it to create a longer version with a Jewish orientation and Luke did the same for a Gentile audience).

The fact that the Orchard hypothesis provides a rationale for the composition of three Synoptics thus does not provide significant evidence that it is true.

 

A Zig-Zag Advantage?

The second advantage that Orchard proposed was that his suggestion provides an explanation for the way Mark’s sequencing of material seems to zig-zag between Matthew’s sequence and Luke’s sequence.

Again, Orchard is correct in that he does provide an explanation for this phenomenon. The Order of the Synoptics describes how Peter would have proceeded to mark up copies of Matthew and Luke to indicate which sections of them he wanted to use so that assistants could roll through them to these points and then hand the scrolls to him while he gave his lectures (pp. 266-272).

However, there is nothing about this that requires a scenario involving lectures rather than a written composition. Mark—or anybody else—could have similarly marked up copies of Matthew and Luke, noting the sections to be used, and then rolled through them in the process of composing a written version of Mark.

Or Matthew could have marked up copies of Mark and Luke, or Luke could have marked up copies of Matthew and Mark.

The fact that the Orchard hypothesis provides an explanation for the zig-zag is thus not of much advantage. There are alternative explanations that work just as well. The zig-zag does not provide evidence that Mark is a transcript of lectures by Peter. This would have to be supported on other grounds.

We now come to the point in our evaluation where we need to look at the plausibility of the individual components of the Orchard hypothesis (numbered 1-8, above).

 

The Composition of Matthew

Claim #1: Matthew wrote his Gospel first, to meet the needs of Jewish Christians.

We have already noted that Matthew’s Gospel has a Jewish character, though it also shows interest in Gentiles. This is not in dispute. The question is whether he wrote first. Orchard and his co-author Riley attempt to provide both internal and external evidence for this.

The internal evidence they offer is an attack on Markan priority (Lukan priority is assumed to be false, so a rejection of Markan priority would entail Matthean priority). The core of the argument is offered on The Order of the Synoptics, 4-7, where Riley presents a table of the material in Mark with parallel columns showing when that material was used by Matthew or Luke in the same sequence as Mark (relocations of material are not shown on this table).

(Click here to see the table.)

Riley then argues:

[A]t every point where Matthew ceases to follow Mark’s order, whether for a short or longer period, Luke continues in it; and wherever Luke ceases to follow Mark’s order, Matthew in his turn continues in it. There is surely an inescapable conclusion to be drawn from this. If Matthew and Luke were dependent on Mark for the order of events, they must have agreed together that they would do this. Without constant collaboration, the result would be quite impossible. That they followed such a course is incredible, and therefore the conclusion cannot be avoided that the hypothesis that they were dependent on Mark cannot be sustained (p. 7).

This argument does not work. The collusion that Riley argues would have to have existed between Matthew and Luke is an illusion based on the way he has constructed the table.

Since the table lists all of the material of Mark in its middle column, that column is guaranteed to be filled. A particular block of Markan material will then have a parallel in the Matthew (left) column if Matthew chose to parallel that block and if Matthew presented it in the same order. In the same way, a particular block of Markan material will have a parallel in the Luke (right) column if Luke chose to parallel that block and he presented it in the same order.

This means that there are four things we could see on any given row of the table:

  1. An entry in all three columns, where all three Evangelists used the material and in the same order.
  2. Entries in the Matthew and Mark columns but a blank space in the Luke one, where Luke didn’t use the material or did not use it in the same order.
  3. Entries in the Mark and Luke columns but a blank space in the Matthew one, where Matthew didn’t use the material or did not use it in the same order.
  4. An entry in the Mark column only, where Matthew and Luke either did not use the material or did not use it in the same order as Mark.

All four phenomena are found in the table, and they are consistent with the idea that Matthew and Luke used Mark:

  • The most common type of row is the first, which means that on Markan priority, Matthew and Luke would have both made a large number of selections from Mark in which they preserved his sequence.
  • The second type of row is the next most common, which is consistent with Matthew having a stronger preference than Luke for including material from Mark and using its sequence.
  • The third is next most common. It is consistent with Luke having a weaker preference than Matthew for including material from Mark and using its sequence.
  • The fourth is the least common. Its low frequency is consistent with the idea that Matthew and Luke had a strong enough preference for using material from Mark, and Mark’s sequence, that this type of row is rare.

We have no need to suppose collusion between Matthew and Luke to produce the patterns we see. Since the table excludes material that Matthew and Luke might have taken from Mark but relocated, we are certain to have one of the above four phenomena on any given row of the table.

Setting aside the first type of row (where both Matthew and Luke followed Mark) and the fourth (where neither did so), we are guaranteed to have either the second or third. Whenever Luke departs from Mark, we will have the second, and whenever Matthew departs, we will have the third. The alternating pattern that Riley observes is thus a product of the way the table itself has been set up.

You could generate exactly the same kind of pattern by taking a table with all the columns filled in and then rolling a die to randomly blank out cells from the first and third columns (say, blanking a cell every time you roll a 6 for the first column and every time you roll a 5 or 6 for the third column, since Matthew more closely follows Mark than Luke).

There is thus no need to posit collusion between Matthew and Luke to explain the table if Markan priority is true. As long as Matthew and Luke sometimes deviated from Mark, the construction of the table guarantees the pattern that Riley observes.

Riley’s attempt to support Matthean priority by attacking Markan priority thus fails.

What of the external evidence? This is dealt with by Orchard in Part Two of their book.

It is true that by the late second century we have endorsements of Matthean priority and that this view is later dominant. All things being equal, this would be the preferred view.

But not all is equal. In particular, the earliest patristic statement we have on the origins of the Gospels dates to the first-century figure John the Presbyter. Its straightforward interpretation (see below) indicates that Mark was written first.

In view of the fact John the Presbyter likely was one of the authors of the New Testament (whether or not he is identified with John son of Zebedee), this is an extraordinarily important testimony. Coming from the same circle of authors that wrote the New Testament, it has more intrinsic weight than later statements, however popular they came to be (a phenomenon likely driven by the popularity of Matthew’s Gospel rather than its historical sequence).

Orchard and Riley thus do not produce compelling evidence for Matthean priority. The initial point of the Orchard hypothesis thus looks shaky.

 

The Composition of Luke

Claim #2: Luke wrote his Gospel second, based in part on Matthew, to meet the needs of Gentile Christians.

Again, there is little dispute that Luke’s Gospel has a special concern for Gentiles, and it is generally thought that it was written for a primarily Gentile audience. The questions would be whether Luke wrote second and whether he based his Gospel on Matthew.

The claim Luke wrote second could be inferred from Matthean priority and the view that Mark is a transcript of Peter’s lectures from Matthew and Luke. If those premises are true then Luke had to come second.

If, however, either or both premises are shaky then this inference does not work. We have already suggested that Matthean priority is shaky, and below we will cast doubt on the idea that Mark is a transcript.

It would still be possible to provide support for this view, though. For example, there is the statement attributed to Clement of Alexandria that the Gospels with the genealogies (Matthew and Luke) were “written first” (Greek, progegraphthai; the statement is preserved in Eusebius, Church History, 6:14:6-7).

If that view is true then, unless one advocates Lukan priority, one could infer that Luke wrote second.

However, Stephen Carlson argues that the key Greek verb (progegraphthai) should be rendered “published openly” rather than “written first.” On this view, Clement was claiming that Matthew and Luke were published openly, while Mark was initially written for a group of private individuals, without Peter’s initial knowledge or authorization. (See Carlson’s argument, here.)

The statement of Clement thus may not provide support for the idea that Luke wrote second.

What about the view that Luke used Matthew? This has been advocated by a number of scholars, including advocates of the Farrer hypothesis (a fact Orchard notes; see p. 236). However, the reverse—that Matthew used Luke—has also been maintained by advocates of the Wilke hypothesis, and most contemporary scholars think that Matthew and Luke wrote independently of each other, so there is no scholarly consensus in favor of Luke using Matthew.

To maintain that this happened, one would need to produce positive arguments in favor of the view. If one accepts Matthean priority then, given the similarities of the Synoptic Gospels, the idea that Luke used Matthew naturally results. But if Matthean priority is shaky then, without further argumentation, the idea that Luke used him is shaky as well.

The second point of the Orchard hypothesis is thus not established.

 

Claim #3: Luke did not publish his Gospel until after Peter had vouched for its accuracy at Rome.

Orchard provides a speculative account of why he thinks this happened. He proposes that Paul recognized that, given its Gentile orientation, Luke’s Gospel would not be well received by non-Pauline churches unless it were vouched for by an authoritative, original apostle, such as Peter. He thus thinks Paul had a role in delaying the publication of Luke’s Gospel until Peter could approve it.

This is possible, though it is quite speculative. Despite this, Peter may well have approved Luke’s Gospel prior to its public distribution.

The reason is that Acts suddenly stops its narrative when Paul is under house arrest for two years in Rome, awaiting trial before Nero. The logical explanation for this is that this is when and where Acts was written. Since Acts is the sequel to Luke’s Gospel, and since both are addressed to the same individual (Theophilus; Luke 1:3, Acts 1:1), it is likely that Luke also wrote his Gospel at Rome during the same two years.

Early Christian authors indicate that Peter ministered at Rome for an extended period of time and that Paul and Peter were martyred there at approximately the same time. It is thus quite possible that Peter was at Rome when Luke-Acts was being written.

This seems confirmed by the way Peter dominates the early chapters of Acts. If Luke had stopped writing with chapter 12, the book could have been titled “The Acts of Peter.”

There is also a marked difference in the sources that Luke had available to him for the first half of the book. This is shown by comparing the general description of travels in the first half with the detailed descriptions of how long and by what routes Paul travelled in the second.

Given the shift in Luke’s sources and the prominence of Peter early in Acts, it is very likely that Peter himself was one of Luke’s sources when he was writing Acts. If so, then it is also likely that Peter was one of Luke’s sources for writing his Gospels and that Peter stands behind some of the material found in Luke but not in Mark.

Peter’s participation in Luke and Acts could itself be construed as evidence of his approval of them. Even apart from this, if Luke’s Gospel was published at Rome then it would be inevitable that people would ask Peter’s opinion of it—and that it would have been dealt a severe blow if Peter disowned it.

It is therefore probable that Peter gave Luke’s Gospel some form of approval, either before or shortly after its publication in Rome. The third point of the Orchard hypothesis therefore looks very reasonable, though perhaps not for the reasons that Orchard himself proposed.

 

The Composition of Mark

We now come to the core of the Orchard hypothesis and what sets it apart from the Griesbach hypothesis.

At this point we should note the implications of the fact that the Orchard hypothesis is different from the Griesbach hypothesis. The latter proposes that Mark is based on a written conflation of Matthew and Luke, while the latter proposes it is based on an oral conflation of them.

That is important.

It means that some of the arguments used with respect to the Griesbach hypothesis do not work—or work as well—when applied to the Orchard hypothesis.

For example, it has been argued that it is very implausible that an ancient author would stitch together two passages in Matthew and Luke on a phrase-by-phrase basis. That kind of thing is possible with word processors, but the ancient world lacked even writing desks. It would be far more likely for Mark to base his version of a passage on either Matthew or Luke, perhaps including a word or phrase from the other, but not alternating between them frequently.

As discussed above, this argument is less acute if we suppose Peter was familiar with both Matthew and Luke and was mentally combining them on the fly as he delivered lectures, looking down for reference at the text of one or the other Gospel in front of him.

Similarly, given the length of Matthew and Luke, Mark makes little sense as an epitome. In the ancient world, epitomes were produced for long, multi-volume works, but Matthew and Luke are both one scroll long, and Mark is not that much shorter than either.

Also, if Peter were giving lectures, he might skip some material in the sources in front of him that he originally meant to cover (a phenomenon known to almost all givers of speeches), accounting for at least some of the omissions of important material we would not expect an author to omit if he were carefully selecting which bits of Matthew and Luke to incorporate in his new, written work.

This is not to say that the arguments commonly used with respect to the Griesbach hypothesis have no value with respect to the Orchard hypothesis. They may have some force—or be reconfigurable in a way that has force—but it is important to give the Orchard hypothesis its due and not simply dismiss it as if everything that applied to the Griesbach hypothesis applied to it.

 

Claim #4: When Luke’s Gospel was brought to him, Peter gave a series of lectures based on Matthew and Luke.

There is absolutely no external testimony to this, which means in the first place that we have introduced a new speculative element into the mix.

How likely is it?

As an eyewitness of Jesus’ ministry, Peter almost certainly preached from his memories on the large majority of the occasions when he discussed the events in question. He would have had no need to preach from written texts.

Having said that, it is possible that he could have given a series of lectures from Luke if, as we have argued, Luke was available to him at Rome. It is also possible that he could have preached a series from Matthew if this Gospel were also available to him. However, these are possibilities and not probabilities.

The Orchard hypothesis goes a step further by proposing that during a single series of lectures Peter alternated between Matthew and Luke and that he alternated between the two during the course of the individual lectures. That is, in a single session, he alternated between reading from a scroll of Matthew and a scroll of Luke.

It is difficult to see why an eyewitness of Jesus’ ministry would choose to do this.

The choice would only be rational if Peter had some very specific reason to do so, and Orchard proposes one: that Peter was intending to vindicate Luke vis-à-vis Matthew.

If that’s what he was doing, however, we would expect to see evidence of it in the written record of these lectures (i.e., Mark). For example, we would expect comments like, “Although Luke places this account in a different location than Matthew, it is still fundamentally accurate,” or “Matthew is placing this story here in order to make a particular point, but Luke’s placement is chronological.”

Comments of this nature are natural in any talk on how to harmonize the Gospels, yet there are no comments of this sort in Mark.

If Peter’s lectures were meant to be a vindication of Luke—whether by harmonization or in some more general sense—then it is striking that there are no references to the texts upon which Peter is lecturing in the written record.

This is very implausible. Any speaker attempting to vindicate one source with respect to an already established source is certain to make reference to the two sources he is discussing, and yet Mark makes no mention of either source!

The proposal that Peter was lecturing to vindicate Luke thus is not established and we revert to the antecedent probability that it is very unlikely that an eyewitness like Peter would choose to do a series of lectures in which he read alternatingly between Matthew and Luke in the course of individual talks.

 

Claim #5: Mark had these lectures transcribed.

How likely is this?

The antecedent likelihood is not great. For a start, the number of people who were trained in stenography and thus capable of taking dictation was very small.

The Christian community in Rome c. A.D. 60 was also small, likely including only a few dozen members and no more than one or two hundred at the very most.

In Romans 16:3-15, Paul greets twenty-four individual Christians and five groups (e.g., the church that meets in Aquila and Priscilla’s house, “those who belong to the family of Aristobulus,” “those who belong to the family of Narcissus”). It is unlikely that Paul knew all of these Roman Christians personally since most people did not travel and Paul had not yet visited Rome. Yet it is likely that he is trying to be as complete as possible in his greetings, given the sensitivity of the letter. He most likely relied on Tertius (Rom. 16:22), who was probably a visiting Christian scribe from Rome, to flesh out his knowledge of the Roman churches. Romans 16 thus may represent a near-complete representation of the size of the Christian community at Rome at this time, in which case it would be only a few dozen individuals.

Given that, it is likely that none of the Christians at Rome were able to write in shorthand. Tertius was able to write and serve as a scribe, but that is not the same thing as being able to take dictation at the speed a public lecture is given. For that, training in special, stenographic signs is needed.

There were people in Rome trained in shorthand, but they were probably not Christians, and they would have needed to be hired to serve as stenographers for a dodgy group like the Christians.

It is very questionable whether a non-Christian scribe would be willing to take a dictation assignment from such an iffy group as the Christians, who were advocating a king rival to Caesar (Matt. 27:37, Mark 15:26, Luke 23:38, John 19:12, 19-20) in Rome itself!

Even if a scribe trained in stenography (Christian or not) was available and willing to take the job, it would have cost money to hire him, and it would have cost a great deal.

Even after the cost of the initial shorthand transcription was paid, the scribe would then need to prepare a version in readable Greek. If such a Greek version were not made then the only people who could read it would be those trained in the same system of stenographic signs as the transcriptionist.

Based on E. Randolph Richards estimates for the cost of producing Paul’s letters (see Paul and First-Century Letter Writing, 169) and scaling the numbers up for a work the size of Mark’s Gospel, it would have cost the ancient equivalent of approximately $1,400 just to have a single copy of the resulting work made in Greek.

In view of all this, there would have needed to be a powerful reason to have a particular set of Peter’s talks transcribed, if a transcriptionist were even available.

After all, people in Rome had the opportunity to hear Peter preach all the time. Mark, in particular, had the opportunity to hear him preach on a regular basis. As his interpreter, Mark likely heard Peter preach so much that he could reconstruct large amounts of this material by memory. Of all people, Mark had no need for a transcription of a set of Peter’s lectures.

So why transcribe this set of lectures?

Presumably, on the Orchard hypothesis, because it was expected to deliver something of special value, beyond what was found in Matthew and Luke—and sufficiently beyond that to justify the costs involved.

If that was the expectation, Peter spectacularly failed to deliver on it in his lectures.

First, Mark’s Gospel contains almost nothing that is not found in either Matthew or Luke, and what it does have is of low value (e.g., the parable of the growing seed, the mention of Jesus’ relatives responding to the claim that he was beside himself, the mention of the man who ran away naked) compared with the material it omits (the Lord’s Prayer, the Infancy Narratives, the Sermon on the Mount, the resurrection accounts).

Second, Peter’s proposed vindication of Luke vis-à-vis Matthew would have been done in such a way that he never even mentioned the two sources he had before him, much less did he provide commentary on their differences and how the two might be understood in light of each other.

Ultimately, Mark’s Gospel doesn’t contribute anything that Peter couldn’t have provided in just five words if asked about the merits of Matthew and Luke: “Yes, they are both good.”

Indeed, knowing the fantastic costs associated with transcription, it’s hard to imagine that Peter—knowing what he was planning to do in the proposed lectures—wouldn’t have simply told Mark to save the money and not burden the church’s treasury with a project of such de minimis value.

If Matthew and Luke already existed, paying such sums to transcribe the set of lectures Peter allegedly gave would have seemed frivolous and irresponsible.

(In fact, the costs associated with producing Mark—by whatever means—were such that it would make no sense to pay them if Matthew and Luke already existed. This is itself an argument for Markan priority. See here.)

The antecedent probability that Mark would have had the proposed lectures of Peter transcribed is thus very low.

But an event’s antecedent probability does not trump strong after-the-fact evidence that it occurred. So what posterior evidence is there?

Advocates of the Orchard hypothesis have appealed to elements of orality in Mark’s Gospel (i.e., traces that it is based on orally performed material rather than the material being composed exclusively in writing). They have also appealed to John the Presbyter’s statement that Mark’s Gospel was based on Peter’s preaching.

However, neither of these elements provides the support that is needed for this point.

In the first place, the oral elements in Mark’s Gospel are equally accounted for whether Mark was a transcript of Peter’s speeches or whether it was based on Mark’s memories of Peter’s sermons. Either way, it would be based on oral performance, and traces of that could (and did) remain in the final text.

In the second place, John the Presbyter does not say that Mark had Peter’s talks transcribed. What he says is:

Mark, having become the interpreter of Peter, wrote down accurately, though not in order, whatsoever he remembered of the things said or done by Christ. For he neither heard the Lord nor followed him, but afterward, as I said, he followed Peter, who adapted his teaching to the needs of his hearers, but with no intention of giving a connected account of the Lord’s discourses, so that Mark committed no error while he thus wrote some things as he remembered them. For he was careful of one thing, not to omit any of the things which he had heard, and not to state any of them falsely (Eusebius, Church History 3:39:15).

Not only does John the Presbyter stress that Mark’s Gospel is based on Mark’s memories (not a transcript), he also indicates that the speeches on which Mark is based were delivered with “no intention of giving a connected account of the Lord’s discourses” (Greek, logia, which may refer to stories about the Lord rather than sayings given by the Lord). Yet the speeches would have been a connected account of traditions concerning Jesus if Peter was giving a series of lectures harmonizing Matthew and Luke.

John the Presbyter’s statement that Mark’s Gospel is based on Mark’s memories of Peter’s preaching—not on Matthew and/or Luke—thus supports the idea that Mark was written first.

The earliest evidence we have, and from a likely New Testament author, is thus that Peter gave various, unconnected sermons about Jesus’ ministry at different times and, at a later date, Mark composed his Gospel based on his memories of them.

We thus do not have posterior evidence capable of overcoming the extremely low antecedent probability that the lectures would have been transcribed (if they even occurred).

 

Claim #6: Some Roman Christians demanded copies of the transcripts immediately; this amounted to a private publication of Mark’s Gospel with its original, shorter ending (when the women flee from the tomb).

It is difficult to imagine Peter giving a series of lectures on Matthew and Luke and then suddenly stopping when he got to the resurrection accounts. The narrative momentum of the story would make the lectures seem extraordinarily incomplete and unsatisfying if Peter suddenly stopped at that point, without recounting the joyous and climactic vindication of Jesus.

Further, the differences between how Luke records these compared to Matthew’s version would have been one of the things the Roman Christians would have been most interested in hearing about. If Peter was trying to vindicate Luke vis-à-vis Matthew then he should have talked about how their resurrection accounts should be understood in light of each other.

Nor can one appeal to the proposal (sometimes made by Orchard advocates) that Peter was only commenting on things from Matthew and Luke that he was an eyewitness of. That might explain why he didn’t cover the Infancy Narratives, but it would not explain why he didn’t include the resurrection appearances, for he was an eyewitness—as Luke’s Gospel explicitly states (Luke 24:34; cf. 24:12).

It is thus very hard to imagine Peter not covering the resurrection narratives in his lectures and thus that this is the explanation for Mark’s shorter ending.

However, we may set aside the question of whether the first publication of Mark’s Gospel included only the shorter ending found in early manuscripts. As noted above, this is not a key aspect of the Orchard hypothesis.

What is more important is the idea that Mark’s Gospel was originally published when Roman Christians demanded copies of the transcript of Peter’s lectures on Matthew and Luke.

How likely is that?

Even if we assume that such a set of lectures took place then the antecedent probability does not appear high.

After all, Matthew was already in circulation, and Luke existed. Mark adds nothing of substance to these two, and that correspondingly diminishes the desirability of having a transcript of the lectures (especially if you hear Peter preach all the time).

If obtaining a copy were as easy as hitting “Print” is today, then some might have wanted a copy for archival purposes, but this does not apply when a single copy in Greek costs the equivalent of $1,400!

It boggles the imagination to envision a group of Romans paying for the multiple copies of the transcript that would be needed for Mark to survive the ages when they could have gotten so much more for their money by having copies of Matthew and Luke made instead.

Indeed, Mark could even be open to charges of swindling people if he allowed them to use their money in this way rather than pointing out the advantages of getting copies of Matthew and Luke.

The survival of Mark is vastly more explicable if it was the first Gospel written and had established a reputation as a sacred and inspired document—and thus one worth copying—before Matthew and Luke appeared.

The antecedent probability that people would have demanded copies of the transcript, given the existence of Matthew and Luke, is thus low.

What about after-the-fact evidence?

According to Clement of Alexandria (c. A.D. 200):

The Gospels containing the genealogies . . . were written first (Greek, progegraphthai).

The Gospel according to Mark had this occasion: As Peter had preached the Word publicly at Rome, and declared the Gospel by the Spirit, many who were present requested that Mark, who had followed him for a long time and remembered his sayings, should write them out.

And having composed the Gospel he gave it to those who had requested it.

When Peter learned of this, he neither directly forbade nor encouraged it (Eusebius, Church History, 6:14:6-7).

Whether progegraphthai is taken to mean “written first” or, as has been discussed, “published openly,” the first part of the statement is consistent with the Orchard hypothesis, since it both holds that Matthew and Luke were written first and that Mark had an initially private publication for those who requested it.

Clement agrees that Mark was approached by Roman Christians who wanted a record of Peter’s preaching, but the account is not that given by the Orchard hypothesis.

Clement specifies that they made their request of Mark because he “had followed him [Peter] for a long time and remembered his sayings.”

As with the quotation from John the Presbyter, we again have Mark being based on the Evangelist’s memories of what Peter preached over “a long time” and not being a transcript of a specific set of lectures.

The quotation from Clement thus contradicts the Orchard hypothesis, and we do not have posterior evidence sufficient to overcome the low antecedent probability that people in Rome would have wanted and paid for transcripts of the lectures, given the existence of Matthew and Luke.

 

Later Publications

We now come to two lesser claims, neither of which is essential to the Orchard hypothesis.

 

Claim #7: After the publication of Mark, Luke published his Gospel, its accuracy having been attested by Peter’s lectures.

We agreed above (see Claim #3) that Peter likely approved Luke’s Gospel at Rome, though we also argued (see Claim #4) that it is unlikely he gave a set of lectures on Matthew and Luke of the kind proposed by the Orchard hypothesis.

Still, given the scenario proposed by Orchard advocates, what should we make of the claim that Luke would have been published after Mark’s initial, private publication?

This is possible, though it is a weakly-supported claim.

In terms of antecedent probability, we must confront the fact that Luke’s Gospel already existed. Multiple copies of it probably had been made before Peter’s lectures. At a minimum, Luke would have had a copy, Peter would have had a copy (that he then marked up according to a frequent proposal by Orchard advocates), Theophilus likely would have had a copy, and so would Paul. Given this, there easily could have been other copies in circulation.

Even supposing that there weren’t, Luke’s Gospel was ready to be duplicated by the scribes available to the Christian community in Rome. For Mark’s Gospel to come out first, the scribes would have had to be diverted from copying Luke next to making copies of Mark’s transcript (with no split among the scribes allowing some to copy Luke and some to copy Mark).

Given the probable low demand for copies of the latter (see Claim #6)—and the fact that Mark would need to be transcribed from shorthand symbols into Greek and then edited, whereas Luke was already in Greek and ready to go—this is unlikely.

In terms of posterior evidence, we have multiple early sources attesting to the Augustinian order of composition (Matthew, Mark, Luke) and only a possible attestation from Clement of Alexandria to the Griesbach order (Matthew, Luke, Mark). This is entirely too slender a basis on which to propose that the Griesbach order is that of composition and the Augustinian order is that of publication.

In the first place, the sources we have assume that the order of composition was the same as the order of publication. The texts that support the Augustinian hypothesis indicate that the Gospels weren’t just published in that order but that they were composed in it. They thus contradict the Orchard hypothesis.

In the second place, the gap between the original publication of Mark and that of Luke would have been so slight (a few days or weeks at most) that it is extremely unlikely that memory of the difference between the two sequences would have been preserved and given rise to the later traditions.

The Orchard hypothesis’s proposed explanation for harmonizing the Augustinian and Griesbach sequences is clever, but it is too clever by half.

 

Claim #8: Later, Mark supplemented his Gospel by providing it with its current, longer ending (i.e., Mark 16:9-20) and published a second edition.

This claim is highly speculative. It presupposes that Peter’s lecture series did not include coverage of the resurrection appearances, which is quite improbable (see Claim #5).

It would be more likely, if Peter preached such lectures, that he covered the Resurrection in some detail, that this was transcribed, and that the original ending of Mark was then lost and its deficit supplied at a later date by an unknown party.

This could have been anybody. It did not require special knowledge that was unique to Peter or Mark. Indeed, the longer ending of Mark appears to largely parallel material found in Matthew, Luke, John, and Acts.

The fact it is in a different style also points to a different author.

And we have no patristic testimony attributing the earlier, shorter version to Mark and then attributing the longer ending to him as well. There is thus no patristic evidence for this claim.

 

Conclusions

What we said above regarding the cleverness of Claim #7 applies to the Orchard hypothesis as a whole: It is a very clever proposal. But it is too clever by half.

Its advocates sometimes observe that it accounts for a large number of data points, including ones that other proposals must set aside.

This is true. Other proposals must set aside some data points and conclude they are simply in error. Thus:

  • Advocates of Markan priority and the Griesbach hypothesis must both set aside patristic testimony to the Augustinian hypothesis.
  • Advocates of the Augustinian hypothesis and the Griesbach hypothesis must set aside John the Presbyter’s statement regarding the composition of Mark.
  • Advocates of the Markan priority and the Augustinian hypothesis must set aside the “written first” interpretation of Clement of Alexandria.

By “set aside,” we do not mean that they must simply dismiss these data points. They can and should provide arguments for why particular patristic claims are not accurate.

But some selection among these claims is inevitable, because the data we have available to us is not uniform in what it says. It is messy, and scholars must weigh and select which bits of it they think are accurate and which are not.

The Orchard hypothesis is sometimes presented as if it gets around this problem by explaining all of the data, but this is inaccurate.

While the Orchard hypothesis gestures at each of the data points mentioned above, it does not succeed in incorporating them because it changes their meaning. Specifically:

  • It only harmonizes the Augustinian and Griesbach orders by interpreting one as the order of publication and the other as the order of composition, when this distinction is not made in the patristic sources.
  • It takes John the Presbyter’s statement pointing to Mark being a transcript of a specific set of Petrine lectures rather than the Evangelist’s memories of Peter’s preaching.
  • It takes Clement of Alexandria’s statement as pointing to a Roman request for copies of a transcript of a specific set of Petrine lectures instead of a request that he write a new work based on his memories of having heard Peter preach for “a long time.”

This phenomenon can be described different ways. One could say that the Orchard hypothesis reinterprets or adjusts the patristic claims in order to incorporate them, but while it gestures at these data points, it does not incorporate them into the theory without adjustment.

It thus must do what every account of Synoptic origins does: Take the patristic claims as in some measure accurate and as in some measure inaccurate. The parts it deems inaccurate the Orchard hypothesis sets aside just like other proposals do. It thus is not any more comprehensive with regard to the evidence than the other proposals.

Indeed, the fact that it is sometimes represented as explaining the evidence without also noting that it adjusts the meaning of the patristic testimony is worrisome.

Ultimately, the Orchard hypothesis fails to convince. The core of the hypothesis is the proposal that Mark is based on a set of lectures Peter gave on Matthew and Luke, and the claims made regarding this core set of propositions are implausible.

Even granting for purposes of argument that Matthew and Luke were written first (something that can be vigorously argued), it is antecedently very unlikely that:

  1. an eyewitness like Peter would have given a set of lectures on Matthew and Luke, alternating between them in the course of a single lecture (Claim #4)
  2. Mark would have had such a set of lectures transcribed (Claim #5), and
  3. there would have been a demand for multiple copies of the transcript, given its high cost and the existence of Matthew and Luke (Claim #6).

Further, it is precisely with respect to these claims that the Orchard hypothesis must adjust the patristic testimony (from John the Presbyter and Clement of Alexandria) in order to support itself.

It could even be said that the Orchard hypothesis misrepresents the patristic data. However, we may view this more charitably by saying it partially incorporates the data (by acknowledging John and Clement’s claims that Mark is somehow connected with the preaching of Peter) and partially rejects it (by setting aside the way in which those sources say it is related to Peter’s preaching—i.e., based on Mark’s memory).

However, the fact that it must reject the means by which these sources connect Mark’s Gospel to Peter’s preaching means that they do not offer the Orchard hypothesis positive support. It must simultaneously accept and reject significant claims from these sources, resulting in no net support.

In sum: The core of the Orchard hypothesis involves a set of claims that are antecedently improbable and not supported by the posterior, patristic evidence we have available to us.

It thus represents a clever and noble effort to account for the data, but one which ultimately does not succeed.