Category: Apologetics

The Resurrection in Mark

You sometimes hear skeptics casting doubt on the Christian message by saying that Mark—the earliest of the Gospels—doesn’t even have the resurrection of Jesus in it.

What are they talking about? Mark 16:9 reads, “Now when he rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons.” That’s certainly a mention of the Resurrection, isn’t it?

The issue is that most scholars have concluded that the final twelve verses of Mark (16:9-20) were not part of the original Gospel.

The reasons for thinking this include: (a) the evidence for the Longer Ending weakens the farther back you go in the history of manuscripts; (b) the manuscripts actually contain at least five different endings for Mark; (c) the style of the Longer Ending seems different than the rest of Mark; (d) the content of the Longer Ending is made up primarily of references to things we know about from elsewhere in the New Testament, making it seem to be reconstructed from other sources; and (e) since the risen Jesus has not appeared to anyone by v. 8, it is easy to see how later Christians would want this deficit to be supplied and a new, supplemental ending composed that contained post-Resurrection appearances.

I agree that the evidence suggests that the Longer Ending was not in the original, but this doesn’t really do anything to cast doubt on the Resurrection. The earlier, undisputed text of Mark shows Jesus repeatedly predicting his rising from the dead (8:31, 9:30-31, 10:33-34, 14:28).

Further, immediately before the undisputed text breaks off, an angel has told the women, “Do not be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene who was crucified. He has been raised, he is not here! See the place where they laid him! But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you” (16:6-7).

It is thus clear that Mark firmly believed in the Resurrection of Jesus, so the absence of an explicit resurrection appearance in the undisputed text of Mark does not provide evidence that the Resurrection wasn’t part of the early Christian message.

You don’t have to narrate a resurrection appearance to believe and proclaim the event. Paul’s letter 1 Thessalonians is even earlier than Mark, and in it, Paul clearly preaches Jesus raised from the dead (1:10, 4:14), but he doesn’t narrate a resurrection appearance.

The claim that the Resurrection “isn’t in” Mark thus doesn’t do the work a skeptic would want. The absence of a resurrection appearance in the undisputed text of Mark is more of a historical curiosity than anything else.

But why would this be? There are two basic possibilities: (1) Mark stopped writing at verse 8 (“And [the women] went out and fled from the tomb; for trembling and astonishment had come upon them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid”) and (2) the original ending was lost at a very early stage.

On the first proposal, there is further scholarly division. Some think that Mark deliberately stopped writing there to end his Gospel on an unexpected, challenging note.

Jesus has already predicted his Resurrection many times, and the women have discovered the empty tomb and been told of the Resurrection, but they haven’t seen it. They are therefore faced with the choice of whether or not to believe. Will they overcome their fear and amazement at the idea of the Resurrection and go on to proclaim Jesus to others?

In the same way, Mark knows that his audience has been told of the Resurrection of Jesus, but they haven’t seen it. Will they overcome their trepidation and amazement at the idea and go on to proclaim Jesus to others? We can infer that the women did, and Mark implies that his audience should as well.

On the other hand, some who think that the original version of Mark stopped at v. 8 hold that he did not intend anything so dramatic or avant-garde. He was simply prevented from finishing his planned ending for some reason, and copies of the manuscript got made in its unfinished condition. Advocates of this view may appeal to the fact that Mark’s Gospel seems unpolished (particularly in Greek), as if it were a first draft.

Another possibility is that Mark stopped writing because he never intended his work to be a finished, polished Gospel. Instead, he meant it to be a collection of notes.

The ancients sometimes drew a distinction between two kinds of works. The first was an unpolished collection of material that didn’t have literary pretentions and was meant to serve basic informational needs. In Greek, these works were called collections of hypomnêmata, and in Latin they were called comentarii. Both of these terms meant, roughly, “notes,” “memoranda,” “things to be remembered.”

Sometimes authors would publish books of this nature as reference works or textbooks, as the physician Galen did with some of his medical texts. Other times they would be published in this form for reasons of expediency and timeliness. Thus, Julius Caesar published his Gallic Wars in the form of commentarii.

Authors might prepare works like this as a prelude to more polished literary productions on the same subject. Sometimes one author would prepare hympomnêmata for use by another author. He might even sell it to the second author as the basis for the latter’s literary work. This is similar to how major authors today may use research assistants to prepare the material on which they will base their novels or nonfiction works.

When the time came to produce the literary work, an author would take the initial, unpolished one, put the material in proper literary order, supplement or trim it, and polish its style before publishing it as a new work. This is exactly what Luke and Matthew did, working with Mark as a base text.

On the other hand, scholars who hold the view that the original ending was lost need to explain how this happened. There are two questions here: (1) How, physically, did it happen? (2) When did it happen?

Regarding the first question, if Mark was originally written on a scroll, then the loss of the ending would be unlikely, since the end of a one-sided scroll tended to be the centermost portion of the roll, around which the rest of the roll was wound. It would thus be the part of the scroll most protected from accidental damage.

On the other hand, if it was a double-sided scroll (what was known as an opisthograph) then, if the ending was lost, the beginning should be lost as well, for they likely would have been on opposite sides of the same page. We see this phenomenon with many ancient manuscripts: If the end is lost, the beginning is, too.

If Mark was originally bound as a codex (a book with a spine), it would be easier to see how the last page of the book could be lost, but in Mark’s time codices were not yet common.

Regarding the second question, the destruction of the original ending must have happened very early. There would seem to be three possibilities: It was destroyed (1) at the time between when Mark finished writing and when the first copy was made, (2) after the first copy was made but before others, or (3) when only a few copies were in existence.

Here we encounter a paradox. If the ending was destroyed late—after multiple copies were in existence (i.e., option 3)—then the original one should have survived in the manuscript tradition, but it does not appear to have done so. On the other hand, if the ending was destroyed early—when only a draft or the first new copy existed (i.e., options 1 or 2)—then why didn’t Mark just replicate the original ending?

What is one to say about all this from a Catholic perspective? Is the current, longer ending divinely inspired?

The fact that it appears to have been written by someone other than Mark does not matter. Several books of Scripture have more than one author (e.g., some of Paul’s letters cite additional authors as having input, like Sylvanus and Timothy; see Phil. 1:1, 1 Thess. 1:1, 2 Thess. 1:1)

More of an issue is that the Longer Ending seems to have been composed in the second century, possibly placing it after the end of the apostolic age, when the writing of inspired Scripture ceased.

The Council of Trent infallibly defined that the books of the Catholic canon are “sacred and canonical, these same books entire with all their parts” (Decree Concerning the Canonical Scriptures). This affirmation is most clearly directed against the views of Protestants who wanted to consider the deuterocanonical portions of Daniel and Esther to be non-inspired.

However, there was apparently some discussion of the Longer Ending of Mark during the council, though it is not mentioned in the final decree.

A footnote on Mark 16:9–20 in the New American Bible: Revised Edition states the Longer Ending “has traditionally been accepted as a canonical part of the gospel and was defined as such by the Council of Trent.”

However, Benedict XVI seems to have had a different perspective, writing that, “The authentic text of the Gospel as it has come down to us ends with the fear and trembling of the women” (Jesus of Nazareth, 2:261).

Regardless of how one answers the question of whether Trent intended to define the Longer Ending as canonical, it is still very early, and it witnesses traditions about Jesus circulating in the early Church. Indeed, it is almost entirely composed of material paralleling traditions found in Matthew, Luke, John, and Acts.

Further, the undisputed text of the Gospel of Mark witnesses belief in the Resurrection multiple times, meaning that the Longer Ending does not give us any reason to doubt the early proclamation of the Resurrection.

Did Early Christians Believe in Dragons?

Today people are fascinated by cryptids—hidden creatures—like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. In the ancient world, the most famous cryptid was the dragon, so did early Christians believe in them?

The term dragon (Greek, drakôn) appears in the Greek Bible, but normally it is in a symbolic context—like when the devil appears in the form of a dragon in the book of Revelation (e.g., Rev. 12). So this doesn’t provide good evidence for belief in literal dragons.

However, the term also appears in other contexts. For example, in Daniel 14, the prophet Daniel kills a large drakôn that the Babylonians worshipped. However, in secular Greek, the term drakôn originally referred to a snake or serpent, and it did not always have monstrous connotations. This is clear in Wisdom 16:10, where the author refers back to the snakes that bit the Israelites in Numbers 21 and describes them as “venomous drakontôn.” The author of Daniel 14 may thus have expected readers to imagine a big snake, and some modern Bible translations like the Common English Bible use “snake” in the passage.

The Bible thus doesn’t provide a good basis for documenting belief in literal dragons. However, we do find some in the early Church who were open to the idea. St. Augustine writes:

As for dragons, which lack feet, they are said to take their rest in caves, and to soar up into the air. While these are not too easy to come across, this kind of animated creature is for all that definitely mentioned not only in our literature but also in that of the Gentiles (Literal Meaning of Genesis 3:9:13).

This passage may not mean what it suggests, however. You’ll note that Augustine says dragons have no feet—which would point to snakes—but that they fly. There were—indeed—references to flying snakes in ancient literature. Isaiah mentions them (14:29, 30:6), and so does the Greek historian Herodotus (Histories 2:75-76, 3:109). So Augustine is likely not referring to what we would think of as a dragon but to flying snakes. (Note: flying—or, technically, gliding—snakes do exist in some parts of Asia.)

The flying snakes that Herodotus referred to were small, but in another passage, Augustine envisions dragons that are very large:

Now dragons favor watery habitats. They emerge from caves and take to the air. They create major atmospheric disturbance, for dragons are very large creatures, the largest of all on earth. This is probably why the psalm began its consideration of earthly creatures with them (Expositions of the Psalms 148:9).

Augustine wasn’t alone in thinking about real, enormous dragons. Other Church Fathers did so also, and so did non-Christian thinkers.

The reason is obvious when you think about it. Although the term paleontology was only coined in 1822, humans have been running across fossils for as long as there have been humans. When they came across the bones of giant, monstrous animals, they correctly concluded that there used to be giant animals in the area.

In her book The First Fossil Hunters, historian Adrienne Mayor insightfully argues that it was the ancient discovery of fossils that formed the basis of the legends of dragons and similar creatures the world over.

St. Augustine himself reports finding a giant tooth on a beach, where the action of the waves presumably uncovered it:

Once, on the beach at Utica, I saw with my own eyes—and there were others to bear me witness—a human molar tooth so big that it could have been cut up, I think, into a hundred pieces each as big as one of our modern teeth. That tooth, however, I can well believe, was the tooth of a giant (City of God 15:9).

I’m not a Young Earth Creationist, but I have to agree with musician Buddy Davis’s fun children’s song D Is For Dinosaur:

When dinosaurs first roamed the earth, many years ago
People called them dragons (and just thought you’d like to know)
So dinosaurs and dragons are both the same thing
The only thing that’s different is we changed the dragon’s name

 

Is Objective Morality Real?

A reader writes:

I have been really hurting due to a question that I can’t seem to find an answer to wherever I look. Wherever I go, I can’t find a Christian that will answer my questions. I am Catholic, but this particular question causes me pain, because morality is the bedrock that my framework is built upon.

My question is, how do I know that Morality is real?

I heard that morality is just a herd mentality to ensure human survival. Like, for example, I don’t kill him, so he doesn’t kill me, a herd mentality. Homosexuality is wrong because it doesn’t ensure human survival. It’s a sort of empathy-like survival mechanism.

This does mean that if you do something wrong, since there would be no Objective Morality, that there is nothing actually wrong about it, and you could technically do whatever, and it would just be atoms moving across space-time, a scary thought indeed.

How do I beat moral nihilism? What are some arguments against it? What if someone is willing to accept it, because facts don’t care about your feelings? How do you show its real? What evidence is there? I still believe, but it hurts to have my framework attacked.

Those attacking the objective reality of morality based on its survival value are making a fundamental mistake, which is pitting objective morality and survival value against each other. They do not need to be seen in opposition and should be seen as in harmony.
According to the standard Christian understanding (and, specifically, the Catholic understanding), morality is rooted in human nature. For example, we need lifelong marriages because our offspring are born helpless and take 2 decades to mature. Therefore, they need care for decades, and thus the parents need to stay together for decades, which amounted to a full human lifespan before modern medicine. Therefore, human nature implies lifelong marital unions.
This would be different if God had designed us to be creatures like fish, which essentially fertilize their eggs and then leave them to their fate. No lifelong marriages would be needed.
We therefore must understand the rules of (human) morality in terms of human nature. They are given to us by God to help us survive and thrive, based on the way our natures work. Therefore, being a moral person has survival/flourishing value.
However, this is exactly what we would expect of a loving God in giving us his laws. They would be based around our nature and be meant to promote our good. They would thus draw upon our nature as human beings and make explicit the best ways for humans to survive and thrive.
God’s law for man thus is not an alien standard imposed on us that has nothing to do with human flourishing. Instead, on the Christian view, it is designed to promote human flourishing, based on our nature.
And this is what Scripture indicates: God gave man laws for man’s own good. The law is designed to help us. Following it is good for us.
This is explicit in various passages in the Bible. It’s also implicit in other passages. One that I find particularly interesting is James 1:22-25, which compares a person who hears God’s law and does not do it to a man who looks at his face in a mirror and then forgets what he looks like. The analogy James uses shows how God’s law reveals our own nature to us. If we forget God’s law, we forget our own nature.
The fact that morality has survival value thus is not contradictory to the biblical view of morality. It is built into the biblical view of morality. The biblical view presupposes that morality has survival value, and the two should not be put in opposition to each other.
When it comes to evidence for the objective existence of morality, we have the testimony of the human heart. Humans have a powerful intuition that some things are Just Right and other things are Just Wrong. Our hearts tell us that morality is objectively real (and they tell us this because God built it into us).
Even those who claim not to believe in objective morality inevitably slip back into assuming that it is real. They invariably fall back into the assumption that some things are just evil–whether it’s racism, sexism, torturing babies for fun, or whatever else it may be. They may be able to momentarily suspend their belief in objective morality, but they inevitably slip back into the view that it is real. So strong is the testimony of the human heart.
Further, belief in objective morality is a human universal. It appears in all world cultures in all periods of history. This only happens with things that are built into human nature, and so belief in morality is part of human nature.
We thus have powerful evidence from the human heart that morality is objectively real.
Furthermore, by believing in morality, we are simply going along with our nature (rather than fighting against it).
Finally, a critic of morality would have absolutely no grounds for trying to guilt us or cause us anxiety for our belief in morality, because if the critic was right then–on the critic’s own principles–we wouldn’t be doing anything wrong by believing in morality, because there would be no objective right or wrong.
And we’d be happier for just going with what human nature tells us–that morality is real.
We’d also reap the survival and flourishing benefits of leading a moral life.
I hope this helps, and God bless you!

Why Did Jesus Curse the Fig Tree?

A perplexing story about Jesus in the Gospels is the account in which he curses a fig tree. It is found in Mark 11 and in Matthew 21.

The incident occurs when Jesus makes his way to Jerusalem for his final Passover. However, it is related differently in the two Gospels.

Mark 11 presents Jesus first as cursing the fig tree (11:12–14), then clearing the temple (11:15–19), and the next morning the fig tree is seen to have withered (11:20–25).

But in Matthew 21, Jesus first clears the temple (Matt. 21:12–13) and later curses the fig tree (Matt. 21:18–20), after which it immediately withers (Matt. 21:21–22).

What explains this difference in order? Matthew may have presented the material about the fig tree together because it deals with the same subject—the fig tree. This is in keeping with the way Matthew groups material topically.

Mark’s ordering of the events may be chronological. However, Mark also has a special way of ordering material, which scholars call the “Markan sandwich.” A sandwich occurs when Mark interrupts one story with another before returning to the first. This allows Mark to contrast the two stories so that they shed light on each other.

Scholars have proposed that this is what is happening in Mark’s accounts of the cursing and withering of the fig tree with the clearing of the temple interposed. In fact, this is one of the most famous Markan sandwiches. So Mark also may be ordering these events in a non-chronological way.

In the story, Jesus sees a fig tree in the distance. Mark notes that it is “in leaf” and that it is “not the season for figs.” This is consistent with the timing of Passover (late March or April).

Jesus then “went to see if he could find anything on it.” Why does he do that if it is not the season for figs? This seems strange.

“If, however, as Pliny the Elder noted in his Naturalis Historia (16.49), the fig tree stands out as a tree that produces fruit before leaves (cf. Mark 13:28 …), the presence of leaves makes intelligible to Mark’s readers why Jesus went to the tree in search of something to eat” (Craig Evans, Word Biblical Commentary on Mark 11:13).

There are several possibilities for what Jesus may have hoped to find on the tree, including unripe but edible figs; however, he finds nothing.

Jesus says to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” Why does Jesus say this to the tree? At first glance, it seems like an act of gratuitous malice.

Why should Jesus curse a tree—especially when it isn’t even the season for it to be bearing fruit? The Law of Moses even condemned the needless destruction of fruit trees (Deut. 20:19–20).

The fact that Jesus perfectly observed the Law (Matt. 5:17–18, Heb. 4:15) suggests that this does not constitute the needless destruction of a fruit tree. It has a purpose, and what happens next clarifies that purpose.

The party enters Jerusalem and goes to the temple. There, Jesus “began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons.”

Note that in this passage and the previous one, we witness a similar phenomenon: apparently unprovoked anger on Jesus’ part. Just as Jesus lashed out at the fig tree, he lashes out at the people doing commerce and changing money in the temple. This connects the two events and provides a clue as to why Jesus cursed the fig tree.

The people Jesus drives out are those who bought and sold items relating to the functioning of the temple itself—specifically, to the animals that were offered there in sacrifice. Mark alludes to this when he speaks of “those who sold pigeons” (pigeons being one of the sacrificial animals).

The “money-changers” served the temple-goers in ancient Jerusalem, who needed to change the Roman currency that had pagan images—including emperors, some of whom were worshipped as gods—for money that could be used at the temple.

Jesus explains his actions by saying, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.”

The statement Jesus quotes is from Isaiah 56:7. Today we think of the Jerusalem temple as an exclusively Jewish institution, and the idea of it being used for prayer by Gentiles (“all the nations”) seems strange. However, Gentiles did pray there. They even had sacrifices offered for them by the Jewish priests. In fact, the stopping of the sacrifices for foreigners, including Caesar, was one of the precipitating events of the Jewish war of the A.D. 60s (Josephus, Jewish War 2:17:2[409–410]).

The outer court, the so-called “court of the Gentiles,” was very large, and it was apparently here that the sellers and money-changers set up shop. This space was meant for the use of the Gentiles to worship God, but instead unscrupulous merchants were using it. Thus Jesus quotes Jeremiah 7:11, asserting that they have made it “a den of robbers.” And “when evening came they went out of the city” and return to Bethany.

In the morning, as they return to the city, they see the fig tree has withered. Peter remembers the curse Jesus put on the tree and says, “Master, look! The fig tree which you cursed has withered.” This was evidently a surprising and impressive event for Peter.

Jesus tells them, “Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him.”

By pointing to the power of faith in God, he indicates the means by which the fig tree withered so quickly: Jesus had faith in God that it would happen, and it did.

Many earlier commentators have failed to appreciate the fact that the clearing of the temple occurs between Mark’s two halves of the fig tree narrative, suggesting that they did not see its relevance. However, given Markan sandwiches, we should be alert to elements connecting the two. There are a number to be found.

“The interrelation of the clearing of the temple (vv 15–19), and the cursing (vv 12–14) and withering (vv 20–21) of the fig tree, is established at several points. For one, all the material between Mark 11:1 and 13:37 is oriented around the temple; this is itself a cue that there is a relationship between the fig tree and temple. There is also a clear parallel between ‘his disciples were hearing’ (v 14) and ‘the chief priests and the scribes heard’ (v 18). Above all, the fig tree is often in the Old Testament a symbol for Israel, and more than once Israel is judged under this symbol, ‘There will be no figs on the tree, and their leaves will wither,’ said Jeremiah (8:13). In connection with this is the intriguing statement that ‘it was not the season for figs’ (v 13). This statement surely has less to do with horticulture than theology. The word for ‘season’ (kairos) is used at the opening of the Gospel, ‘ “The time (kairos) has come,” said Jesus, “the kingdom of God is near” ’ (1:14). Kairos means a special, critical moment. There is no fruit on the tree because its time has passed. The leafy fig tree, with all its promise of fruit, is as deceptive as the temple, which, with all its bustling activity, is really an outlaw’s hideout (v 17)” (James R. Edwards, “Markan Sandwiches: The Significance of Interpolations in Markan Narratives,” Novum Testamentum XXXI, 3 (1989), 207).

There is also the fact that, in both narratives, Jesus lashes out, first at the fig tree and then at those in the temple complex. This is perhaps the most direct parallel between the two narratives, and it provides the key to understanding them.

By cursing the fig tree, Jesus is enacting a physical parable of what will happen to the temple. The time when the fig tree produced fruit is passed. In the same way, whatever fruit the temple may have borne in the past, at the time of Jesus it is corrupt and has become a “den of robbers.”

Thus, just as no one will eat fruit from the fig tree in the future, the time of the temple itself is passing. Jesus makes this explicit later by prophesying its physical destruction (13:1–2).

The fact that Jesus uses the fig tree as a parable of the temple sheds light on why he cursed the tree even though it was not the season for figs. Only a tree without fruit is suitable for this physical parable. Thus he seeks to see if it offers anything edible. It does not, and so instead he uses the occasion to enact the parable.

Interested in hearing more about the Gospel of Mark? Check out Jimmy Akin’s full-length commentary on Logos/Verbum Bible software!

Christmas Myths

Every year at Christmastime, you hear people trying to debunk aspects of the holiday and the biblical accounts behind it.

One of the most common allegations is that Christmas is based on a pagan holiday, and so it is really “pagan” in origin.

Not only is this particular claim made by secularists who don’t like Christianity in general, it’s also made by some in the Protestant community. Before I was Catholic, some members of my Protestant congregation didn’t celebrate Christmas because of its “unbiblical,” pagan origins.

Other allegations charge the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ birth with contradictions, and almost every aspect of the Christmas story and the Christmas celebration has been challenged.

So let’s take an objective look and see what the historical evidence has to say.

 

Not a Matter of Faith

First, we should point out that Jesus being born on December 25th is not a matter of faith.

Those who delight in saying that he wasn’t sometimes seem to take pleasure in the idea that they’re somehow undermining Christianity, but they’re not.

The Church may celebrate Jesus’ birth on this day, but it’s not a matter of Catholic doctrine. It’s not a teaching of the Faith but a matter of custom.

In fact, as we’ll see, there were a number of dates for Jesus’ birth proposed in the early Church, and it is still celebrated on other days in some parts of the Christian world.

For example, some Eastern Christians celebrate Christmas on January 6th.

 

December 25th?

One of the most commonly repeated claims is that Jesus wasn’t born on December 25th, and that this date was chosen to subvert a pagan holiday.

Further, it’s claimed that Jesus couldn’t have been born on this date because the Gospel of Luke reports that shepherds were out tending their flocks on the night Jesus was born (2:8). It would have been too cold for that in December, so Jesus must have been born in a warmer time of year.

This latter claim is absolute nonsense. First, winters are quite mild in Israel. Bethlehem is just six miles from Jerusalem, and the temperature in Jerusalem on December 25th ranges from an average of 55 degrees in the day to 43 degrees at night. It’s still well above freezing, even in the coldest part of the night.

Second, sheep do just fine in the cold. That’s why they’re covered in wool! As a species, sheep grew up outdoors, and they haven’t lost their cold resistance due to domestication. (If anything, humans have bred them to have even thicker wool.)

If you google “winter sheep care,” you’ll find websites advising you not to keep your sheep indoors all day (they will go crazy if they’re locked up all the time) and not to be afraid of having them outside (they’re covered in warm, water-resistant wool). You’ll also find lots of pictures of domesticated sheep casually strolling around in the snow.

Another charge I’ve seen is that Jesus couldn’t have been born in December because the shepherds had lambs in their flocks, but lambing season is in the springtime.

There are multiple problems with this. First, while some breeds of sheep lamb in the spring, other sheep breed all year round and do not have a consistent lambing season.

Second, at least in English, a sheep is still considered a lamb until it is one year old, meaning lambs could be present any time of the year, even for breeds that have a lambing season.

Thirdly, and most importantly, Luke nowhere mentions lambs. They’re just not in the text. This idea is simply a product of people’s imaginations.

Finally, the shepherds around Bethlehem do keep sheep outdoors, even on December 25th. “William Hendricksen quotes a letter dated Jan. 16, 1967, received from New Testament scholar Harry Mulder, then teaching in Beirut, in which the latter tells of being in Shepherd Field at Bethlehem on the just-passed Christmas Eve, and says: ‘Right near us a few flocks of sheep were nestled. Even the lambs were not lacking. . . . It is therefore definitely not impossible that the Lord Jesus was born in December’” (Jack Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology, 2nd ed., §569).

 

A Pagan Holiday?

What about the claim that the celebration of Christmas on December 25th is based on a pagan holiday?

My first reaction to this charge would be, “Well, supposing that’s true, so what?”

In the face of a popular holiday that people find objectionable, it is common to create an alternative, wholesome celebration.

For example, some Protestant churches hold “Reformation Day” or “harvest festival” celebrations as alternatives to Halloween, and some Catholics have their children dress up as saints rather than ghosts and monsters.

If early Christians decided to place the celebration of Christ’s birth in opposition to a popular pagan holiday as a way of subverting it and giving Christians an alternative, wholesome thing to celebrate, then that would be a good thing.

Subverting paganism is good, and so is providing wholesome alternatives.

Further, if Christmas was timed to oppose a pagan holiday, that would not mean that Christmas is “really” pagan. It would mean that Christmas is really anti-pagan.

When a Protestant church celebrates Reformation Day to commemorate the publication of Martin Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses on October 31, 1517, they are not “really” celebrating ghosts and monsters. They’re really celebrating the Reformation; they’re just doing it in opposition to a pop culture ghosts-and-monsters festival.

The same thing goes for those who celebrate harvest festivals. What they’re “really” celebrating is the harvest season—as an alternative to celebrating the pop culture version of Halloween.

In the same way, if Christians timed Christmas to compete with a pagan holiday, they weren’t celebrating a pagan deity. They were celebrating Christ’s birth! And by competing with a pagan holiday, they would be doing something anti-pagan.

So Christmas is just not pagan, no matter what pagans were doing on December 25th.

 

Which Pagan Holiday?

If Christmas was timed to compete with a pagan holiday, which would it have been?

Some sources try to link it with the Roman holiday Saturnalia, which was a festival in honor of the god Saturn.

For Saturnalia people would shut their businesses, wear festive clothing, have a banquet, get drunk, gamble, reverse roles (such as having masters serve slaves), give each other gifts (often inexpensive gag gifts), and elect a mock “king of Saturnalia” to preside over the festivities.

But there is a major problem claiming that Christmas is an alternative to Saturnalia. This Roman festival was originally celebrated on December 17, though by the time of the Republic it extended through December 23.

Christmas wasn’t held until after Saturnalia was over, making it a poor alternative. To be a true alternative, it would need to be taking place at the same time.

 

Sol Invictus?

Many sources link Christmas with a different holiday—the birth of Sol Invictus—that is, the sun god Sol, who was nicknamed Invictus or “the Unconquerable.” This was celebrated on December 25th.

The first thing to say is that we have no early Christian sources saying, “We decided to celebrate Christmas on December 25th in order to compete with Sol Invictus.” That means that the idea is sheer speculation, not something that we have evidence for.

It’s not even particularly good speculation, because the only thing the two celebrations have in common is the date December 25th, but just because two things happen at the same time doesn’t mean one is based on the other.

For Christians to want to compete with Sol Invictus, the latter holiday would have to be something worth competing with.

That might be the case if Sol Invictus was a major Roman god, if the December 25th celebration was a popular one, and if it was longstanding and deeply entrenched in Roman culture—thus creating social pressure for Christians to find an alternative to it.

But none of those things are true. In the first place, Sol Invictus was not a major Roman deity. The Sol wasn’t even the most popular solar deity (that would be Apollo), and scholars today don’t know a great deal about the worship of Sol because the Romans didn’t talk about him that much. He simply wasn’t that important.

Furthermore, December 25th wasn’t a major festival of the god Sol. It was a single-day celebration, but Sol had multi-day celebrations in August and October.

Neither was December 25th a longstanding festival of Sol. His oldest celebration was in August, and we have no evidence of December 25th being celebrated as the birth of Sol Invictus before A.D. 274. In fact, some scholars have argued that the celebration was instituted by the Emperor Aurelian when he dedicated a temple to Sol in that year.

Sol Invictus thus appears to be a recent holiday. It was one of Sol’s lesser holidays. And Sol was not a major deity. Christians would not have felt the need to compete with it by placing Jesus’ birth on it.

 

Christmas First?

If it is correct that Sol Invictus was not instituted until A.D. 274, then we have evidence that the timing of Christmas could not have been based on it.

The reason is that we know Christians were already celebrating on December 25th at this time.

Around A.D. 204, St. Hippolytus of Rome wrote a commentary on the book of Daniel, and in it he states: “For the first advent of our Lord in the flesh, when he was born in Bethlehem, was December 25th” (Commentary on Daniel 4:23:3).

We also have an ancient statue of Hippolytus—rediscovered in 1551—that has inscriptions of calendrical calculations, and this also mentions Christ’s birth as being on December 25th.

These pieces of evidence indicate that some Christians were already commemorating Christ’s birth decades before the institution of Sol Invictus.

Could the causal arrow be pointing the other way, then? Could Romans have based Sol Invictus on the date of Christmas?

 

Why December 25th?

Probably not. There was another, every obvious reason why Romans would dedicate a temple to Sol or celebrate his birth on December 25th—it was the day of the winter solstice.

The winter solstice is the shortest day of the year, after which the days begin growing longer, and that makes it an important day for worshippers of the sun all over the world. The same would have been true for the Romans.

Technically, because the Julian calendar is slightly off in reckoning the length of the year, the astronomical winter solstice had drifted slightly from December 25th, but the latter date was the conventionally recognized date by tradition, so it was the ritually important one in Rome.

What about Christians? Could the fact that December 25th was the winter solstice have played a role in their celebrating it as Jesus’ birth?

Malachi 4:2 says that for those who fear God, “the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings,” and early Christian authors saw this as a symbol of Jesus Christ.

One might thus speculate that, understanding Jesus as “the sun of righteousness,” they chose to place his birthday on the winter solstice for the same reason Romans did.

However, another view has been proposed in scholarly circles.

 

The Calculation Theory

The easiest date in Jesus’ life to calculate is actually the date of his death, because the Crucifixion occurred on a Friday in conjunction with Passover.

Scholars have calculated that the most likely date for it is April 3, A.D. 33, though some have argued for April 7, A.D. 30.

However, in the ancient world, many early Christian sources reckoned that it was March 25th.

One reason for this is clear: Just as December 25th was the winter solstice, March 25th—3 months later—was the spring equinox, and the timing of Passover was determined by the spring equinox.

Even if you didn’t have other knowledge to calculate with besides Jesus being crucified at Passover, it would be easy for ancients to conclude he died around March 25th, and that became the standard date.

Easter was a much more important holiday for early Christians than Christmas, and so many scholars have proposed that it was actually the date of Jesus’ death that was used to calculate the date of his birth.

How would they have done that?

 

Integral Age Theory?

We have evidence that—at least in certain periods of history—various Jewish and Christian sources held to what is sometimes called the “integral age” theory.

This is the belief that important figures like prophets and saints lived “perfect” lives—perfect in the sense of being made of complete years.

If you were such a figure, you would die on the same date that you were born on, so you lived to be exactly so many years old, with no overage or underage.

For integral age advocates, Jesus would have been born—or perhaps conceived—on the same day that he died.

This may well be why we celebrate March 25th as the Annunciation, which is commonly taken to be not only when Gabriel appeared to Mary but also the date of Jesus’ conception.

Add 9 months to March 25th, and what do you get? December 25th.

Some scholars have thus proposed that the date of Christmas was calculated from what was regarded as the day of Jesus’ death.

 

The Tradition Theory

It should be pointed out that the calculation theory is speculative, and it depends on a number of unprovable assumptions.

Just like we don’t have Christian records saying, “We set Christmas on December 25th to compete with a pagan holiday,” we also don’t have ones that say, “We calculated the date of Christmas using the date of Christ’s death.”

Further, we don’t have evidence of Christians holding to the integral age theory before the celebration of December 25th started—only afterwards. And one would have to reckon Christ’s integral age not from birth but from conception.

The calculation theory is possible, but so is another view—that early Christians simply had a tradition that this was the day on which Jesus was born.

If so, it was not the only tradition. From the late second century, we have other dates that were proposed as well, including January 6 and 10, April 19 and 20, May 20, and November 18.

The two dates that attracted the most support, though, were December 25th and January 6th, which was another date sometimes reckoned as the winter solstice, and both went on to be celebrated as Christmas in different parts of the world. (Note that January 6th is still celebrated as the feast of the Epiphany, or visit of the Magi, on the Roman calendar.)

We thus do not have a definitive way of establishing the day on which Christ was born.

However, what we can say is that it certainly could have been December 25th (the sheep do not rule that out), that we have early Christian sources supporting this date, and that it was definitely not based on a pagan holiday.

The early Christians who support December 25th do so because that is when they sincerely believed Christ was born.

 

Looking at the Gospels

While the calendar date of Jesus’ birth is something that we cannot know definitively, the Gospels present us with solid information about Jesus’ birth.

Matthew and Luke inform us that it took place in Bethlehem, and Luke states that, when the time came, Mary “gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn” (2:7).

This statement has given rise to popular images of the birth, such as Christmas cards depicting Jesus being born in a barn (because of the manger) and Joseph and Mary being turned away from the ancient equivalent of motels (because of the mention of the inn)—often in a cold, snowy environment.

However, all of these images are probably wrong.

As we mentioned earlier, the average temperature in the Jerusalem area on December 25th is well above freezing, and so although snow is possible, it is unlikely.

Further, the Greek term that is translated “inn” is kataluma, and it refers to a place where people live. It’s a general term that can refer to any such place and does not mean an inn, specifically.

There is a more definite term for inn—pandocheion—and Luke uses that term in the parable of the Good Samaritan (10:34).

What most people don’t know is that a kataluma could refer to a place where people stayed within a home—a living room or guest room. Thus the “upper room” where Jesus eats the Last Supper is referred to as a kataluma (Mark 17:14, Luke 22:11).

Since Joseph’s family was from Bethlehem (Luke 2:3-4), he and Mary were likely staying with family. But there were so many family members there for Caesar’s enrollment (2:1) that the living area was full, and so Mary chose to give birth in another part of the house.

Family rooms tended to be on the upper floor of a house, so Mary would have gone to the lower part of the house, which is where animals were kept, as indicated by the presence of the manger.

What kind of animals were they? We cannot say, though cows, sheep, and goats were commonly kept.

In any event, the image of Jesus being born in a barn is probably wrong. It was likely the lower part of a house, and—specially—it was likely in a cave.

In regions with caves, Israelites often would take advantage of them by building their homes over them, and we have sources from the second century indicating that Jesus was born in a cave. Thus, the Grotto of the Nativity in Bethlehem is celebrated as Jesus’ birthplace to this day.

 

The Visit of the Magi

Our Christmas cards often depict the magi as showing up on the night of Jesus’ birth—just like the shepherds did (Luke 2:8-10). However, they did not.

We also should mention that—despite them being referred to as “three kings”—the magi were not kings. “Wise men” comes closer, but Matthew uses the specific term magoi for them (2:1).

The magi were originally a Persian tribe with priestly duties (like the Jewish tribe of Levi), but over time the term had broadened and was used for anyone who performed ritual activities that were thought to be in some way similar to those of the magi. Thus we read about Jewish magi like Elymas bar-Jesus (Acts 13:6-8).

The magi who visited Jesus came from a country in “the East” (2:2, 9)—perhaps Babylonia or Persia—and they arrived as much as two years after Jesus’ birth.

We know this because, when they failed to report back to Herod the Great, he killed “all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had ascertained from the magi” (2:16).

The magi had told Herod when they had first seen Jesus’ star (2:7), and this would have been between one and two years earlier. (Herod likely rounded the figure up to two years in an attempt to ensure that his effort would result in the death of the correct child.)

In any event, the magi did not arrive on the night of Jesus’ birth but considerably afterward, and the Holy Family was either still in Bethlehem or had returned for another visit. Likely they were staying with the same family members, and Matthew does indicate that the magi found the baby Jesus with his mother in a “house” (2:11).

 

Conclusion

There are a large number of myths about Christmas. Some come from skeptics, such as those who say Jesus couldn’t possibly have been born on December 25th and that this date was chosen to compete with a pagan holiday.

Other myths come from Christians themselves, such as in artistic representations that tend to compress everything about Jesus’ birth into one scene, with the shepherds and the magi present together, in a barn, on a snowy evening.

Of course, it’s natural for Christians to represent the birth of our Savior in art, but we should be aware of the difference between what the Gospels actually say and when artistic license is being taken.

Myths aside, it remains true that our Savior really was born into the world, and on Christmas we honor the truth of this event.

More People Are Demanding to Be ‘Debaptized’ — Here’s What’s Wrong With That

In some places, the demand for debaptisms has been going up, which could be rather surprising.

“What’s a debaptism?” you might ask. “Is that even a thing? How can you un-pour water on someone?”

The short answer is that No, debaptism isn’t a thing, but that hasn’t stopped people from asking for it. And yes, “debaptism” is the language they use. The Pillar explains:

The Catholic Church in Belgium reported on Wednesday a sharp rise in the number of people asking for their names to be removed from baptismal registers.

The Church’s latest annual report, published on Nov. 30, said there were 5,237 such requests in 2021, compared to 1,261 in 2020 and 1,800 in 2019. …

Nevertheless, a rising movement in Europe promoting ‘debaptism’ has encouraged Catholics to write to Church authorities asking to be removed from parish baptismal records. The movement is a consortium of several political and philosophical factions among European secularists.

 

A Movement With Some History

This movement has been around for a while. For example, in 2012, NPR reported:

In France, an elderly man is fighting to make a formal break with the Catholic Church. He’s taken the Church to court over its refusal to let him nullify his baptism, in a case that could have far-reaching effects.

Seventy-one-year-old Rene LeBouvier’s parents and his brother are buried in a churchyard in the tiny village of Fleury in northwest France. He himself was baptized in the Romanesque stone church and attended Mass here as a boy. …

But his views began to change in the 1970s, when he was introduced to free thinkers. As he didn’t believe in God anymore, he thought it would be more honest to leave the Church. So he wrote to his diocese and asked to be un-baptized.

 

Problems for the Debaptizers

There are problems with what the debaptizers are asking for.

It’s not possible to un-pour water on someone after it has been poured on them. This makes debaptism physically impossible (though some atheist organizations have used tongue-in-cheek ceremonies with hairdryers).

However, it’s also not theologically possible to reverse all the effects of baptism. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states:

Incorporated into Christ by baptism, the person baptized is configured to Christ. Baptism seals the Christian with the indelible spiritual mark (character) of his belonging to Christ. No sin can erase this mark, even if sin prevents baptism from bearing the fruits of salvation. Given once for all, baptism cannot be repeated. (1272)

So, when you get baptized, an indelible spiritual mark is put on your soul, and nothing can remove this.

You can commit sins that will remove the sanctifying grace that baptism gave you, but the mark remains.

And — if you change your mind and repent — you can return to grace and resume life as a Christian.

You don’t need to get baptized again. In fact, you can’t get baptized again, because the spiritual mark remains.

 

What Happens in “Debaptisms”?

What happens when a person decides he doesn’t want to be a Christian anymore and sends in a “debaptism” request? The Pillar explains:

A spokesman for the Belgian bishops’ conference told The Pillar on Dec. 1 that when the Church received a ‘debaptism’ request, ‘it is noted in the register in the margin that the person has requested to be de-registered.’

‘You are not allowed to cross out or delete an entry in an official register,’ he explained.

That makes sense, because there needs to be a record of the fact the person was baptized. Suppose that they later change their mind and decide they want to live as a Christian again. There needs to be a record of the fact that they were baptized in order to show that they shouldn’t be baptized again.

What happened in the case of Monsieur LeBouvier? NPR reports:

‘They sent me a copy of my records, and in the margins next to my name, they wrote that I had chosen to leave the Church,’ he says.

Specifically, the revised record said that he “has renounced his baptism.” But that wasn’t enough for Lebouvier, and he sued the Church to have his name removed from the records.

 

A Parallel Case

Why would he do that? Let’s consider a parallel case — getting civilly married.

People sometimes go before a government official, get hitched, and then later change their minds and decide they don’t want to be married to each other after all.

When that happens, they get a divorce, and they seem to be happy with that. They don’t demand that the state go back and erase all records of them ever having been married.

There are good reasons the state doesn’t do that. Various legal matters may turn on the fact that the two people were married at one time (taxes, child custody cases, inheritances, lawsuits, etc.), and the state needs to have a record of the marriage — even if the state now regards it as dissolved.

 

Um … Why?

So why would someone like LeBouvier want his baptismal record obliterated?

Part of it could be confusion caused by poor catechesis. He might think that the existence of a physical record of his baptism itself makes him a Christian.

This would be a case of magical thinking, however, as it isn’t writing on a piece of paper that does this.

On the other hand, it could be cantankerousness. LeBouvier could have simply resented the Church and wanted to be difficult.

Instead of being satisfied with the fact that his parish noted in the records that he had renounced his baptism, he wanted to be a jerk and make a demand that he knew could not be granted, giving him a pretext to take the Church to court.

 

A Case Resolved

Whatever his motives, he ultimately lost. In 2014, the French Supreme Court ruled against LeBouvier, which is as it should be.

It’s a simple matter of historical fact that LeBouvier was baptized. That’s true regardless of what the effects of baptism are, and as an unbeliever, LeBouvier presumably wouldn’t even believe in the indelible mark it left on his soul.

It’s just true that — on a certain date — he was baptized in a certain parish, and there can be records of that fact occurring, just like there can be records of any other historical event taking place. Shy of having a flux capacitor-equipped DeLorean, there’s no way to go back in time and undo the event.

Just as the state can keep records of things that happened — like marriages — even if their effects are regarded as now neutralized (or not, from a religious perspective), so can the Church.

 

The Effect of a Document

There is a reason that people like LeBouvier might not be satisfied with the Church simply noting in the baptismal records that they no longer consider themselves Christian.

When people get a divorce, they get a court decree — a piece of paper that says they’re no longer legally married — and even though the state hasn’t gone back and erased all records of their marriage, the decree seems to satisfy them.

But the Church doesn’t have an equivalent of this when someone abandons the Faith.

The 1983 Code of Canon Law did envision the possibility of someone defecting from the Church “by a formal act.” This had certain canonical effects, such as no longer being required to have a Catholic wedding.

 

Defections and the German Kirchensteuer

But the German church tax system (Kirchensteuer) complicated matters. Under this system, the German government automatically takes a portion of an individual’s income and gives it to the church they are a member of.

Consequently, some Germans began defecting from the Church and claiming they no longer needed to pay the tax.

Apparently in response to the German situation, the Pontifical Council for Legislative Texts in 2006 instituted a cumbersome process that made it harder to formally defect. The process involved things like meeting personally with your bishop and convincing him that you really, most sincerely, did not consider yourself a Catholic anymore.

Unsatisfied with the results of this, in 2009 Pope Benedict XVI decided to eliminate the concept of formal defection from canon law entirely.

This had serious unintended consequences, as it meant that people who had been baptized but not raised Catholic — many of whom might not even know that they had been baptized — were now legally unable to contract valid marriages (because of the obligation to observe “canonical form”) and were condemned to the state of perpetual, objective fornication.

To my mind, the cure was worse than the disease caused by the German tax situation, but it meant that one no longer even got a letter from one’s bishop saying that he believed you no longer regarded yourself as Catholic.

 

Looking to the Future

As the secularization of Europe progresses, it remains to be seen whether future Church leaders will deem it appropriate to create a document certifying that “We recognize that you no longer consider yourself or wish to live as a Catholic.”

Hopefully, such a document will not be needed — and God forbid that anyone should want one.

But while the French courts ruled against LeBouvier, we can’t count on this remaining the case in the future.

Anti-Catholic and anti-Christian animus continues to spread in the legal system, and just as there are cantankerous litigants who may just want to “stick it to the Church,” there may be cantankerous judges who wish to do the same thing.

To head off the legal collision that could result from activist judges demanding that the Church mutilate its baptismal records, it could one day be prudent to create a way of formally acknowledging the sad reality of people who no longer consider themselves Christian.

How Was Jesus Born?

A reader writes:

I have been a sponsor for RCIA catechumens and candidates. Mary is a frequent topic of discussion with questions about immaculate conception, perpetual virginity and how do we know Jesus was not born vaginally.

Do you have any resources we might share with them, please?

Thank you for writing.

It is not Church teaching that Jesus was not born vaginally. What the Church teaches is that Mary remained a virgin before, during, and after Christ’s birth. However, it does not have a teaching on specifically how Christ’s birth happened. This is left for theologians to speculate about.

(See Cardinal Avery Dulles’s remarks here.)

A common speculation is that Jesus came out of Mary’s womb miraculously and non-vaginally.

This speculation is found very early in Christian literature.

For example, the second century document known as the Infancy Gospel of James (aka the Protoevangelium of James) indicates a miraculous, non-vaginal birth, whereby there is a great light and Jesus suddenly appears outside of Mary’s womb and a later inspection confirms that she is still physically a virgin according to a common understanding of the time (see sections 19 and 20).

Even earlier than that, the first century document known as the Ascension of Isaiah–which likely was written in A.D. 67–similarly indicates a miraculous, non-vaginal birth where Jesus suddenly appears outside Mary’s womb (see 11:7-9).

We thus have very early Christian testimony to Jesus having a miraculous, non-vaginal birth, but this is still not Church teaching.

I hope this helps, and God bless you!

Misusing the Sign of Jonah

A reader writes:

The muslim Ahmed Deedat once wanted to prove that Jesus did not die on the cross. For this he used the sign of Jonah in Matthew 12:40 making the connection: Jonah alive in the fish = Jesus alive in the tomb. Hence these questions on which I would like to have your opinion.

1. If Jesus died in the tomb, did Jonah therefore die in the belly of the fish and then rise again (Jonah chapter 2)?

2. If Jonah didn’t die in the fish, would that also mean Jesus wasn’t in the tomb either?

Regarding your questions:

1) Jesus did not die in the tomb. He died on the Cross, and afterward his body was put in the tomb.

Jonah did not die in the fish. He lived through the entire experience.

2) No. Just because Jonah didn’t die in the fish does not mean that Jesus was not in the tomb. He was in it.

If your account is accurate, what Mr. Deedat is doing is making two mistakes.

 

Pressing Analogies Beyond Their Limits

First, he is pressing an analogy beyond its limits. In an analogy, there are two things that are similar in some way. The similarity is the basis of the analogy/comparison.

But there also are differences between the two things, which are also essential for the analogy. If there were no differences, one would be comparing a thing to itself, which would make no sense.

Thus, in the comparison between Jonah and Jesus, both go into something for “three days.” That is the similarity.

But then the differences start: Jonah is named Jonah, while Jesus is named Jesus. Jonah went into a fish, while Jesus went into a tomb. Jonah went to Nineveh, while Jesus didn’t. Jonah lived centuries before Christ, while Jesus lived centuries after Jonah. Et cetera.

What Mr. Deedat is doing is failing to appreciate that not every element of an analogy is the same, and he is pressing the analogy beyond its limits.

Specifically, he is insisting that the life-status of the two figures must be the same, but this is one of the differences between the two things being compared: Jonah was alive, while Jesus was dead.

 

Failing to Identify the Point of Analogy

Second, Mr. Deedat would be failing to notice that the life-status of the two figures is not part of the sign of being “in” something for “three days.”

Jonah was alive when he went into the fish, while Jesus was already dead when he went into the tomb.

Therefore, Jesus being dead tells us nothing about Jonah’s status and whether he was alive. Nor does Jonah’s status of being alive tell us anything about Jesus’ life-status.

The point of the comparison is that they were both in something for “three days.” That is the comparison. Whether they were alive or dead while they were in this thing is simply not part of the comparison.

I hope this helps, and God bless you!

Will God Give Me Whatever I Want? (Prosperity Gospel, Word Faith, Write Your Own Ticket with God)

The Gospels contain some remarkable statements about prayer. They’re found particularly in the Gospel of Matthew, though there are parallels in Mark and Luke.

These statements sound very positive—as if you can ask God for anything you want, and he’ll give it to you so long as you believe.

When people take these passages in isolation—apart from other things the New Testament says—they can develop a false theology of prayer.

In Protestant circles, there is a movement known as prosperity theology (also known as the prosperity gospel or the health and wealth gospel), according to which God wants all his people to be healthy, wealthy, and highly successful.

If a Christian does not have these blessings, then he either hasn’t asked for them or he hasn’t asked for them in faith. Either way he is at fault.

But a careful reading of the New Testament indicates this view is distorted.

One encouraging prayer text is found in the Sermon on the Mount:

Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened (Matt. 7:7-8).

Jesus doesn’t mention limits on what you may ask for, and you might suppose you could ask for absolutely anything and receive it.

But he also doesn’t give examples. He doesn’t say, “Ask for fabulous wealth, health, and success, and it will be yours.”

He thus may have something more modest in mind, and he may mean this primarily as asking for spiritual rather than material blessings.

In both Matthew and Luke, Jesus immediately gives an analogy based on fathers giving their children things to eat. In Matthew, Jesus concludes that God will give “good things” to his children (7:11), and in Luke he says that God will give them “the Holy Spirit” (Luke 11:13)—suggesting the passage may be primarily about spiritual “good things.”

When we look at the rest of the Sermon on the Mount, we do not find Jesus encouraging dreams of a lavish lifestyle.

In the Lord’s Prayer, he teaches us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread” (6:11), suggesting a daily, hand-to-mouth reliance on God—not fabulous riches.

Jesus goes on to explicitly state:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also (6:19-21).

He thus indicates earthly riches can be a spiritual distraction from God, and we shouldn’t set our hearts on them. He also says:

No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon (6:24).

He also tells us:

Do not be anxious, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well (6:31-33).

Jesus thus wants us to focus “first” on spiritual values and treat material needs as secondary. Rather than encouraging people to “dream big” about what God could give them, he encourages humble, ongoing dependence—asking God for what we need, not what we dream.

He certainly does not encourage us to imagine a success-filled life with no troubles, saying, “Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day” (6:34). Again, the goal is living a trusting, spiritual life—not one of runaway success.

Another encouraging prayer text occurs when the disciples ask why they failed to cast a demon out of a boy, Jesus says it was:

Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you (17:20).

This seems paradoxical. Jesus says the disciples have “little faith” but then says that if they had “faith as a grain of mustard seed,” they’d be able to accomplish amazing miracles. If so, shouldn’t their little faith have been enough?

The solution is found by considering who really performs miracles—God—and God’s power is unlimited. Therefore, it ultimately doesn’t matter how big your faith is, because God is the one who performs the miracle.

The reason the disciples failed is that they had inadequate faith and weren’t properly trusting God. Perhaps they thought they had been endowed with magical exorcistic abilities and had lost sight of God when using them.

Another text ripe for abuse occurs in the next chapter:

Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven (18:19).

Sounds good, doesn’t it? Agree on anything, ask God for it, and it will be done.

But not so fast. This statement is introduced by the word “again,” telling us that we need to examine the context, because Jesus is restating a thought he has already been exploring.

When we check the context, we find that it isn’t accumulating property for oneself but Church discipline. Jesus has been telling the disciples how to deal with a fellow Christian who sins. He says that if the offender won’t listen to others, take him to the church, and if he won’t listen to the church, excommunicate him. He then says:

Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven (18:18).

The statement about agreeing “on earth” is in the context of exercising the power of binding and loosing, which deals with matters of spiritual discipline—not material prosperity.

When Jesus assures the disciples “again” of what will happen when they agree, he’s assuring them of the ability to bind and loose.

The final passage we should consider occurs when the disciples asked how the fig tree withered so quickly. Jesus replies:

Truly, I say to you, if you have faith and never doubt, you will not only do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, “Be taken up and cast into the sea,” it will be done. And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith (Matt. 21:21-21; cf. Mark 11:22-24, Luke 17:6).

This is essentially the same point we saw with the failed exorcism: It doesn’t matter the size of what you’re asking for, because God has the power to do anything. And Jesus puts the matter positively, saying that “whatever you ask” will be received.

But there is an unstated assumption that Jesus expects us to understand—that what we ask is in accordance with God’s will.

First century Jews knew not every prayer request is something God wills, and God’s will is the controlling factor.

Jesus himself bore witness to this in the garden of Gethsemane when he prayed, “My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (26:39).

If the Son of God himself recognized that God does not will to grant every request, we’d better recognize it, too!

Jesus wants to encourage us to pray, and he may not mention this exception every time, but he expects us to recognize it.

It’s certainly found elsewhere in the New Testament. James warns those who boast of their business plans that they need to take God’s will into account, saying, “Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we shall live and we shall do this or that’” (4:15).

He also identifies one of the causes of unanswered prayer: “You ask and do not receive because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions” (4:3).

Asking for unlimited wealth and success would be precisely the kind of prayer that won’t be answered.

And that may be a good thing, for Jesus also says, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Matt. 19:24).

Did God Have a Wife?

Various social media sites have claimed that—in the Old Testament—God originally had a wife that the Israelites worshipped.

This goddess was named Asherah, and she is mentioned at various places in the Hebrew scriptures.

The claim is made that we have no biblical texts that can be confidently dated prior to the reign of King Josiah (640-609 B.C.) that condemn the worship of this goddess.

Before that time, it was allegedly normative for Israelites to worship Asherah alongside God.

How accurate are these claims?

Not very.

It’s true that there was a goddess named Asherah that was worshipped in the Ancient Near East, and it’s true that some Israelites worshipped her.

But it is false to claim that this was a normative practice among Israelites—and that we have no texts from before the time of Josiah condemning the practice.

To understand the situation, we need to understand how the Israelite religion developed.

As a nation, Israel was descended from the patriarch Abraham, who came from “Ur of the Chaldees” (Gen. 12:28)—meaning he was from Mesopotamia, or modern Iraq.

As a native of Mesopotamia, Abraham was raised in the religion of the area, which centered on various eastern deities.

But the Bible records that eventually the true God—the Creator of the universe—called Abraham to leave Mesopotamia and come to the Promised Land of Canaan.

This is discussed in the book of Joshua, which states:

Joshua said to all the people, “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘Your fathers lived of old beyond the Euphrates, Terah, the father of Abraham and of Nahor; and they served other gods.

“Then I took your father Abraham from beyond the River and led him through all the land of Canaan, and made his offspring many” (Josh. 24:2-3).

The Bible thus acknowledges that—before God appeared to him—Abraham worshipped other gods, which was the normal practice of people in the Ancient Near East.

When Abraham came to Canaan it was filled with its own people, who also worshipped a variety of gods.

Later, when Abraham’s descendants spent time in Egypt, they also lived among a polytheistic people.

Being surrounded by polytheistic people meant that the Israelites were tempted to join their neighbors in worshipping other gods, and they sometimes did so.

They even did so during the Exodus, as Moses was leading them out of Egypt and back to the Promised Land.

This is illustrated by the golden calf incident (Exod. 32) and by Moses’ instruction to offer their sacrifices to God, saying, “they may no longer sacrifice their sacrifices to the goat-idols after which they were prostituting” (Lev. 17:7, LEB).

While people did engage in these practices, they were not acceptable. Thus, after the golden calf incident:

Moses’ anger burned hot, and he threw the tables out of his hands and broke them at the foot of the mountain.

And he took the calf which they had made, and burnt it with fire, and ground it to powder, and scattered it upon the water, and made the sons of Israel drink it.

And Moses said to Aaron, “What did this people do to you that you have brought a great sin upon them?” (Exod. 32:19-21).

It was similarly recognized that, upon returning to Canaan, the polytheistic inhabitants could tempt the Israelites into being unfaithful to God. Concerning the Canaanites, God says:

You shall make no covenant with them or with their gods.

They shall not dwell in your land, lest they make you sin against me; for if you serve their gods, it will surely be a snare to you” (Exod. 23:32-33).

Also, God made a covenant with the Israelites that they would worship only him. This requirement is explicit in the Ten Commandments:

“I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

“You shall have no other gods before me.

“You shall not make for yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth” (Exod. 20:2-4).

The Bible thus depicts orthodox Israelite religion as involving the worship of God alone. However, it frankly acknowledges that unorthodox Israelites could and did worship other deities.

The struggle against this is a major theme in the Bible, and the prophets regularly condemn Israelites for worshipping other gods. You cannot read the Old Testament without repeatedly encountering this theme.

So what about Asherah? She was a goddess that was worshipped by the Canaanites—as well as other people in the Ancient Near East—and she was often regarded as the wife of the high god.

In the Canaanite pantheon, the high god—the head of the pantheon of gods—was named El, which is the Hebrew word for “God.”

El was also named Yahweh, and some Canaanites regarded Asherah as the wife of Yahweh.

Under the influence of their Canaanite neighbors, some Israelites did worship her—just as they worshipped other gods, like Ba’al and Milcom.

But according to the Old Testament, by doing this, they departed from the normative, orthodox Israelite religion and did things they were not supposed to.

What about the claim that this was normative before the time of King Josiah? Two points need to be made.

First, the theory depends on a very late dating of the biblical texts. There is good evidence that the books of Exodus and Leviticus were written around the time of David and Solomon (c. 1000 B.C.)—long before Josiah.

Furthermore, we have other texts before Josiah condemning the worship of Asherah.

For example, Isaiah 17:8 prophesies that a time is coming when the Israelites “will not have regard for the altars, the work of their hands, and they will not look to what their own fingers have made, either the Asherim or the altars of incense” to pagan gods.

The Asherim were pole-like religious objects used to worship Asherah, and even liberal scholars acknowledge that Isaiah 17 was written during the time of the prophet Isaiah (8th century B.C.), well before Josiah (7th century B.C.).

Even earlier was the event recorded in 1 Kings 15:13 that King Asa “removed Maacah his mother from being queen mother because she had an abominable image made for Asherah; and Asa cut down her image and burned it at the brook Kidron.”

Asa reigned between 912 and 870 B.C., and while 1 Kings wasn’t written until later, it records events repudiating Asherah that took place long before Josiah.

Second, the “Asherah worship was normative” view is just cherry-picking Old Testament texts.

If—at one time—it was orthodox for Israelites to worship Asherah, where are the texts praising her?

There aren’t any.

Advocates of this view must argue that any texts that were positive toward her were removed, and new, negative passages were introduced after Josiah.

That’s simply cherry-picking. You can prove anything you want—on any subject you want—if you get to pick evidence you think favors your position and ignore all evidence to the contrary.

For example, you could “prove” that the original thirteen U.S. colonies were founded by Russian immigrants by saying that—later on—all the references to Russian immigrants were mysteriously removed from our historical documents and replaced by references saying they were founded by English colonists.

The fact is, the texts we have in the Old Testament indicate that orthodox Israelites worshipped the true God, that unorthodox Israelites also worshipped other gods like Asherah, and that this practice was condemned from very early times.