Damning Bible contradictions: 2 Ten Commandments, 2 creation stories, 2 Flood stories, and more

Here’s the final batch in our goal to explore the top 20 most damning Bible contradictions. Here are the final five (part 1 is here).

16. The Bible has two incompatible Ten Commandments

You know the story: Moses got the Ten Commandments from God on Mt. Sinai in Exodus 20. The list of commandments had the familiar rules—no blaspheming, no murder, no lying, no stealing, and so on. But the Israelites were impatient and anxious during his long absence. When Moses returns, he finds them were worshipping a golden calf, a familiar religious idol from Egypt.

Moses smashed the tablets in his rage, 3000 Israelites were killed in the opening round of punishment, and Moses eventually went back up for a duplicate set (Exodus 34), which was put in the Ark of the Covenant.

Except that it wasn’t a duplicate set. It’s a list that few Christians are familiar with. For example, number 5 is “The first offspring from every womb belongs to me.” Number 7: Celebrate the Feast of Weeks. Number 10: “You shall not boil a young goat in its mother’s milk.” This set is referred to as the “Ten Commandments” in Exodus, not the other set.

We can debate which set fundamentalists should try to illegally place on government property, but despite God’s assurance, these are two very different sets of rules.

See also: The Irrelevant Wisdom of the Ten Commandments

See also: Atheist Monument Critique: Ten Commandments and Ten Punishments

17. The Bible has two creation stories in Genesis

There are also two creation stories at the beginning of Genesis. First is the six-day creation story that enumerates the things God created day by day, after which God rested. Next is an older creation story, the one about the Garden of Eden.

Apologists try to harmonize these two, saying that the Garden of Eden story is just an in-depth look at the last day of creation, but details in the two stories disagree. The 6-day story says that humans can eat from every tree, while the Eden story says that one is forbidden. The 6-day story has plants and animals before humans, while the Eden story has the opposite. And so on.

See also: Illogic of the Garden of Eden Story

18. There are even two Flood stories

You see the trend: the Old Testament often has two different, incompatible stories. Each was too precious for ancient editors to discard, so both were jammed together somehow. The two Ten Commandments stories are separated by over a dozen chapters, the two creation stories are back to back, and the two Flood stories are interleaved.

In Flood story 1, the older story, Noah takes seven pairs of all clean animals plus one pair of all the others. Once on board with his family, it rained for forty days and forty nights (forty being the symbolic number for “quite a lot”), and everything outside the ark was killed. Noah sent out a dove to scout for dry land. On the second try, it returned with an olive leaf. Back on dry land, Noah sacrificed one of every clean animal to Yahweh, and Yahweh promised to never again destroy life on earth (with a flood, anyway).

In story #2, God is named, not Yahweh, but Elohim, and specifics about the design of the ark are given. With just one pair of each animal plus provisions, Noah (now 600 years old) and family go into the ark. This time, the water comes, not from rain, but from “the fountains of the great deep” and “the windows of the heavens.” Water had covered the earth for 150 days when Elohim made the water recede. This time it was a raven that helped scout for dry land, and they were back on dry land after a year in the ark. God told them to “be fruitful and multiply.”

A leading explanation of the Old Testament’s story pairs is the Documentary Hypothesis. It answers a lot of questions and proposes four original documents that were merged to make the Pentateuch, the Bible’s first five books. Read more on the two Flood stories and the Documentary Hypothesis here.

19. Resurrection contradictions

Forty percent of the gospels focus on the last week of Jesus’s life, from the triumphant entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to the crucifixion, resurrection, and final teachings, and they differ on many points.

A popular Christian response is to say that just because only Matthew wrote about the dead coming out of their graves and walking around Jerusalem doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. (Yeah—the other gospel writers must not have thought that Jesus causing the dead to reanimate, seen by many, wasn’t worth writing about.)

Or that just because John says, “Mary Magdalene went to the tomb,” that doesn’t mean that many other women weren’t also with her as Luke says (“Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them”).

Or that just because only Matthew has Jesus riding on two donkeys, that doesn’t mean the other gospels’ reference to just one disagrees. (Yeah, it pretty much does.)

Or that Paul’s reference to 500 eyewitnesses to the risen Jesus might’ve been compelling to him, but it wasn’t worth writing about in any gospel (more).

The various accounts differ, from who Peter spoke to when denying Jesus, to Jesus’s last words, to who the women saw at the tomb, to whether Mary Magdalene recognized Jesus or not, to how many days Jesus stayed after his resurrection.

See also: Contradictions in the Resurrection Account

20. Jesus forgets the plot

At some point the three persons of the Trinity—Yahweh, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit—agreed that Jesus should live as a human on earth. Jesus was born as a divine being (except in Mark, where he becomes divine with his baptism) and lives out a life that ends with crucifixion.

So we’re all on board? Apparently, Jesus wasn’t when he prayed with his disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. To the few disciples with him, he said, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38). Then he prays, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup [he’s referring to the upcoming crucifixion] be taken from me.” He prays this three times. The story is the same in Mark, and in Luke, an angel strengthens Jesus.

Why did Jesus go off-script? He was part of the Trinity that decided this, so how could he be second-guessing the plan now?

We can look for a human comparison. It wouldn’t be surprising for an ordinary human to have second thoughts before a suicide mission, but in this story we’re talking about a god. Even if agony were a thing that he would find unpleasant, why would an omniscient being second-guess a plan that he knows is perfect?

The puzzle vanishes if we reinterpret the Jesus story as legend.

My god believes in self-sacrifice
then going on about it forever.

— Oglaf.com (h/t Richard S. Russell)

Damning Bible contradictions: Who Would Jesus Convert? and more

We’re in the middle of tossing Christianity’s dirty laundry onto the lawn for everyone to examine. Here are five more Bible contradictions that call into question foundational Christian claims.

I’m hoping to find 20 contradictions, and this is part 3 (part 1 is here).

11. Do people deserve punishment for their ancestors’ sins?

The Bible demands intergenerational punishment so that children must be punished for their parents’ sins.

I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me (Exodus 20:5).

[God justified a calamity to the people:] It is because your ancestors forsook me (Jeremiah 16:11).

But the opposite claim is recorded in the Bible as well.

Fathers shall not be put to death for their children, nor children put to death for their fathers; each is to die for his own sin (Deuteronomy 24:16).

Everyone will die for their own sin; whoever eats sour grapes—their own teeth will be set on edge (Jeremiah 31:30).

The one who sins is the one who will die (Ezekiel 18:4).

Where does this leave Original Sin? This is the idea that we’re born fallen and deserve hell because of Adam’s sin, which infects us all. What foundation remains for Original Sin if it is undercut by the Bible itself?

12. What day was Jesus crucified on?

The synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) say that the Last Supper was the Passover meal and that Jesus was crucified after the Passover meal.

On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?” (Matthew 26:17)

Three verses later, Jesus is at the Passover meal, the Last Supper. But in John, the order is reversed: it’s the crucifixion and then the Passover meal.

Now it was the day of Preparation [the day of preparing lambs for the Passover meal], and the next day was to be a special Sabbath. Because the Jewish leaders did not want the bodies [of Jesus and the two thieves] left on the crosses during the Sabbath, they asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken down. (John 19:31)

A “historical account,” as the gospels are claimed by some to be, should get the order of important events correct, and the Passover meal and the crucifixion are both important events.

13. Who should the disciples convert?

At the end of the gospel story, Jesus has risen and gives the disciples their final instructions.

Make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:19).

This is the familiar Great Commission, and it’s a lot more generous than what has been called the lesser commission that appears earlier in the same gospel:

These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Do not go among the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel.” (Matthew 10:5–6)

This was not a universal message. We see it again in his encounter with the Canaanite woman:

[Jesus rejected her plea to heal her daughter, saying] “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said.

He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” (Matthew 15:24–6)

You might say that a ministry with limited resources had to prioritize, but that doesn’t apply here. Jesus was omnipotent.

Going back to the Old Testament, we don’t find an all-inclusive message there, either. The Israelites were God’s “Chosen People,” and God had harsh things to say about neighboring tribes.

No Ammonite or Moabite or any of their descendants may enter the assembly of Jehovah, not even in the tenth generation (Deuteronomy 23:3).

God also forbids intermarriage with these foreign tribes (Deut. 7:3; Ezra 9:2, 10:10; Nehemiah 13).

Let’s revisit the fact that Matthew is contradictory when it says both “Make disciples of all nations” and “Do not go among the Gentiles [but only] to the lost sheep of Israel.” There are no early papyrus copies of Matthew 28 (the “Make disciples of all nations” chapter), and the earliest copies of this chapter are in the codices copied in the mid-300s. That’s almost three centuries of silence from original to our oldest copies, a lot of opportunity for the Great Commission to get “improved” by copyists. I’m not saying it was; I’m simply offering one explanation for why the gospel in Matthew has Jesus change so fundamental a tenet as who he came to save, from only Israel’s “lost sheep” to the entire world.

14. Jesus should’ve returned to Earth already.

Jesus promised to return within the lifetimes of those listening to him. This Apocalyptic message (Apocalypticism claims that the end times are very close) is found in the three synoptic gospels. It takes a passage in Isaiah 13 that predicts calamity for Babylon—that the sun and moon will darken and the stars will fall—and repurposes it as a prediction of the end. It also predicts:

[All people on earth will] see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory. And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds. (Matthew 24:30–31)

The prediction ends saying that this will all happen soon.

This generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened (Matthew 24:34).

Let me emphasize those two points: “these things” will happen soon (within months or years, not centuries), and “these things” are obvious and world-destroyingly calamitous. The popular Christian response that this referred to the fall of the Temple won’t fly.

Earlier in the same gospel, we find other references to the imminent coming of the Son of Man:

When you are persecuted in one place [as you spread the gospel], flee to another. Truly I tell you, you will not finish going through the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes. (Matthew 10:23)

Some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom (Matthew 16:28).

It’s been a lot longer than one generation. Jesus made a mistake.

15. Jesus promises that prayers are answered

Jesus says a lot about prayer, and he makes big claims for it.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you (Matthew 7:1).

Whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours (Mark 11:24).

He who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do (John 14:12).

Apologists say that Jesus isn’t like a genie, but they need to reread their Bibles. Jesus really does say, “Ask, and ye shall receive”—it’s in John 16:24. He says it without caveats. That promise has been tested uncountably many times, often by desperate people, but if Jesus answers, he’s indistinguishable from chance. (More on prayer here and here.)

Our list of the top 20 damning Bible contradictions is concluded here.

Religion is just superstition
which has been around long enough
to have become respectable.
— J. B. R. Yant

Damning Bible contradictions: faith and works, the End, and more

What are your favorite Bible contradictions? These can be two sets of verses that are contradictory, or the clash can be the Bible vs. reality. And these aren’t just trivial contradictions where “It’s a typo—big deal” would be an answer. These strike at foundational Christian claims.

I’m hoping to find 20 contradictions, and this is part 2 (part 1 is here).

6. Faith saves (or do works save?)

Protestant Christianity often emphasizes that faith alone (sola fide) justifies God’s forgiveness. Many verses support this.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast (Ephesians 2:8–9).

We maintain that a person is justified by faith apart from the works of the law (Romans 3:28).

That seems clear enough until we find the opposite claim elsewhere in the Bible. The clearest example to me is the Parable of the Sheep and Goats in Matthew 25, but there’s more.

Will [God] not repay everyone according to what they have done? (Proverbs 24:12)

What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? (James 2:14).

For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what they have done (Matthew 16:27).

The dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works (Revelation 20:12).

For something so important as getting into heaven and avoiding hell, the New Testament is surprisingly unclear.

Addendum: Or maybe it’s repentance that saves … or maybe baptism?

What if it’s repentance?

Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord (Acts 3:19).

Repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem (Luke 24:47).

Or baptism? It was so essential a ritual that Jesus was baptized.

Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38).

We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life (Romans 6:4).

7. The different genealogies of Jesus

The Messiah had to be of the line of David (Jeremiah 33:15–17; Isaiah 9:7), so two gospels provide genealogies of Jesus to validate this requirement. The problem is that we only need to go back one generation, to Joseph’s father, to find a problem.

Jacob [was] the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, and Mary was the mother of Jesus who is called the Messiah (Matthew 1:16).

Jesus … was the son, so it was thought, of Joseph, the son of Heli (Luke 3:23).

There is just one unique male biological line that would terminate in Joseph, so at least one of these genealogies is wrong. And it’s hard to imagine that an ordinary Joe like Joseph would have a reliable record of his genealogy going back generations. Worse, Joseph wasn’t the biological father of Jesus, so he made no genetic contribution to Jesus, and his genealogy is irrelevant. If being in the line of David is a requirement, then having a god for a father makes you ineligible.

The most common rebuttal is to say that the Luke genealogy is for Mary, but the text makes clear that it’s for Joseph. Anyway, why would you provide the genealogy of the parent from whom descent from David wouldn’t count? We’re seeing the incompatible clash of two ideas: (1) Jesus inherits David’s throne and (2) Jesus was the son of God and so not in any human’s male lineage.

8. Does God prevent harm to good Christians?

In response to a 2017 church shooting, where good Christians were doubtless praying to God but still got shot, Christian apologist Greg Koukl pushed back against the idea that anyone should be surprised (I responded here). In fact, he assures us, Jesus promised persecution.

Do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. (1 Peter 4:12–13)

Koukl said, “There is … no rationale, no line of thinking that if God does exist that only good things happen to people, particularly people who believe in God, especially Christians.”

In fact, the Good Book says precisely that:

No harm overtakes the righteous, but the wicked have their fill of trouble (Proverbs 12:21).

If you make the Most High your dwelling—even the LORD, who is my refuge—then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. (Psalm 91:5–10)

When Christians desperately praying for their lives in a church are gunned down, atheists are right to point out that this makes one question God’s existence.

9. When is the End?

A 2013 poll found that 41 percent of U.S. adults think that we’re now living in the end times. But ask for the precise date, and the standard response is to point to this verse:

But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father (Mark 13:32; see also Matthew 24:36).

Harold Camping was hilariously wrong about his prediction of the Rapture® on May 21, 2011 (see here and here), and fellow Christians pointed to that “only the Father” verse. But Brother Camping had a comeback with this passage:

You know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, “Peace and safety,” destruction will come on them suddenly, as labor pains on a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness so that this day should surprise you like a thief.  You are all children of the light and children of the day. (1 Thessalonians 5:1–5)

Some people won’t know, the children of darkness. But the enlightened ones will know.

(Or so Camping assumed.)

10. Jesus finds a new home for Mary. But why?

While on the cross, Jesus was concerned about his mother and made provisions for her to be taken care of after he was gone.

When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, “Woman, he is your son.” And he said to this disciple, “She is your mother.” And from then on this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:26–7)

That’s a nice gesture, but why was it necessary? Mary had other sons. Tradition holds that James, the leader of the church and supposed author of the epistle of James, was the brother of Jesus. And then we have this:

Isn’t [Jesus] the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother’s name Mary, and aren’t his brothers James, Joseph, Simon and Judas? (Matthew 13:55)

Mary had lots of sons who could support her.

Continue in part 3

If horses had gods, they’d look like horses.
— Xenophanes

Top 20 most damning Bible contradictions

Here are my favorite Bible contradictions. Play along at home and see which of these are on your list, too.

The focus here is just on contradictions in the Bible. These are mostly clashes between two sets of verses in the Bible, but some are the Bible clashing with reality. (I’ve written about the Bible clashing with science here.)

There are lots of contradictions that I find fairly trivial. For example, that Ahaziah was 22 (or 42) years old when he became king (2 Kings 8:26 vs. 2 Chronicles 22:2). Or that Solomon had made a basin that was ten cubits in diameter and thirty in circumference (1 Kings 7:23). The contradictions on this list are much more fundamental attacks on the Christian message.

1. Christians sin, just like everyone else (or do they?)

Everyone knows that no human except Jesus lived a sinless life. The Bible says:

Indeed, there is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sins (Ecclesiastes 7:20).

All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23).

This is standard Christian dogma, but things get confusing when you read the opening verse of Job, which says of Job, “This man was blameless and upright.” Even as his life was going to hell because of the little experiment of Satan and God (see Job 1), Job was vindicated in his belief that he had nothing to apologize for.

We see another example in Noah, who was also “blameless” (Genesis 6:9).

But the sinless net goes a lot wider than that, because (plot twist!) ordinary Christians don’t sin.

No one who is born of God sins; but He who was born of God keeps him, and the evil one does not touch him (1 John 5:18; see also 1 John 3:6, 3:9).

So which is it—are all people sinners, or are Christians the exception?

Addendum: But why worry about sin? Every one of us is already saved.

Paul draws a parallel between the man who got us into this mess (Adam, who ate the forbidden fruit and gave mankind Original Sin) and the one who got us out (Jesus, whose perfect sacrifice saved us all).

For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous (Romans 5:19).

We didn’t opt in to get the sin of Adam, and we needn’t opt in to get the salvation of Jesus. No belief is necessary. Paul assures us we’re good.

2. The women spread the word of the empty tomb (or did they?)

Women discovered the empty tomb of Jesus and returned to tell the others.

The women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples (Matthew 28:8).

When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others (Luke 24:9).

Or did they? Mark has a different ending.

Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. (Mark 16:8)

And that’s how the original version of the gospel of Mark ended.

3. All Christians are united in what they believe about Jesus (right?) 

[Jesus said,] I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one…. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one—I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. (John 17:20–23)

I appeal to you … that all of you agree with one another in what you say and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly united in mind and thought. (1 Corinthians 1:10)

That’s a nice thought, but has any prayer failed more spectacularly? Christianity is more than just Roman Catholics and Baptists and Methodists and maybe a few more—there are now 45,000 denominations, and Christianity is fragmenting at a rate of two new denominations per day. (h/t commenter Greg G.)

4. No one can see God (or can they?) 

No one has ever seen God (1 John 4:12).

No man has seen or can see [God] (1 Timothy 6:16).

But Adam and Eve saw God. So did Abraham and Moses:

The Lord appeared to Abraham near the great trees of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day (Genesis 18:1).

The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend (Exodus 33:11).

5. God’s rules keep changing

God made an “everlasting covenant” with Abraham, but then he tore that one up and made another one with Moses.

The New Testament continues the confusion. It can’t decide whether to look backwards and honor existing law or to tear it up yet again, because it says both. First, Jesus commits to existing law:

Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. (Matthew 5:17–18)

But then the book of Hebrews weaves a legal case that argues that Jesus is a priest in the line of Melchizedek, an older lineage which must take priority over the existing priesthood in the line of Aaron. Here it quotes an Old Testament declaration of God to justify a new covenant.

The days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and with the people of Judah. (see Hebrews 8:6–13)

Jesus is a dramatic change to Judaism, and there must be some logic to justify Christians changing their worship day, dropping the sacrifices, worshiping a new guy in addition to Yahweh, and so on. That rationalizes away one problem, but the overall problem—the various substories don’t fit together in the overall plot—remains.

See also:The Bible Story Reboots. Have You Noticed?

See also: The most fantastically failed prayer in history

Continue to part 2

I always refer to the Bible as the world’s oldest,
longest-running, most widespread,
and least deservedly respected Rorschach Test.
You can look at it and see whatever you want.
And everybody does.
— Richard S. Russell

Guest article: The improbable vs. the impossible, or Will the real Jesus please rise up?

This guest article is from frequent commenter BensNewLogin. 

CS Lewis is famously quoted as saying that the Gospels must be true, because the only alternatives for understanding them are that Jesus is “liar, madman, or king.” That was CS Lewis for you, and why my extensive reading of him as a young man very nearly prompted me to become a Christian. He was a compelling rhetorician, but his rhetoric rested on a bedrock of poor argumentation, logical fallacies, and willful blindness. At least three other options present themselves: 1) legend, like all of the other gods of men; 2) an amalgamation of several real and legendary characters, like all of the rest of the solar myths; or 3) as Barbara Thiering posited, a business model

This last possibility I will explore in greater depth later. But for now: functionally, from the point of view of sociology, religion is a business, whatever its spiritual claims might be. Money comes in, money goes out, a product is sold. There’s no reason to think that religion wasn’t as much a business 2000 years ago as it is now. In fact, we have evidence for that: the Roman snake god, Glycon, was manufactured out of whole cloth, none of it spiritual. And there is no reason to think that business model was not the reason for Paul’s conflict with the early Christian leaders in Jerusalem. Who needs competition?

There was a time when I was intensely interested in these questions of who Jesus was and what actually happened 2000 years ago. I read a lot of books then, but I’m not so interested in it anymore. I would never describe myself as a biblical scholar, though I would say I am a sociologist and psychologist—of a sort. And that is my take on this: sociologist, psychologist, and a bit of a historian. Jesus allegedly said, “Upon this rock I will build my church.” I suspect this is a later interpolation. It’s possible, though unlikely, that he did intend to start a new religion. But probably not, because he was a Jew. Paul was also a Jew, but apparently a Hellenized Jew. And there is no doubt that Paul did intend to start a new religion—more on that later.

Was Jesus a Real, Historical Personage?

I suspect that Jesus actually existed, though it is also as likely that he was an amalgamation of several characters running around at the time. (cf: Judas the Galilean). Outside of Christian documents, there is no other evidence, especially contemporary evidence, that he existed. I also think that the whole story is right there in the Gospels, the truth hiding out in plain sight of everyone, requiring just a little perspicacity to separate the historical wheat from the theological chaff.

Christianity was a first century Jewish heresy. That issue is independent of whether Jesus was real. The heresy was that Yahweh/Adonai, who is one, could have a literal son. Well, that’s where the heresy started. In the power struggle between the heretics (Christians) and the true believers and possessors of the truth (Jews), the Jews lost, and thus began the 1900 years of church-sanctioned antisemitism, beginning in the Gospel of John and the Book of Acts, and right down to the present era. Jesus was in conflict with the religious authorities of his time, just like Paul was with the religious authorities in Jerusalem. 

Was he real? I think probably likely, but ironically enough, for historical reasons despite the lack of actual history. Were the stories about him true? Very unlikely, not only because magic is highly unlikely, but because that would mean all of the rest of the magical stories about the various gods of men might also be true. His story was constructed along the same lines as all of the other god stories, because that is how people constructed their gods in those days. There are a lot of stories about a lot of magical, god-like people from a lot of religions over the ages. You’d be surprised how many man-gods died, often through a form of crucifixion, and were resurrected, and will come again to redeem mankind. Odin sacrificed himself to himself by hanging himself on a tree. If you are familiar with medieval Christmas carols, the cross is often referred to as a tree. The solar myth, the Dying God, the resurrected God, the crucified God are oft-repeated motifs in the worlds of the gods of men. You have Jesus, Lono, Odin, Adonis, Quetzalcoatl, Inanna, and Persephone. There are a bunch of them.

My issues with the gospels, especially the birth narratives, go in a different direction. I suppose you could summarize them in the immortal words of eminent scientist and evangelical Christian Francis Collins, who referred to the gospel narratives as “near eyewitness accounts.” That is a loophole that you could drive a very large body of scholarship through, with enough room left over to accommodate St. Peter’s Basilica. 

Was he the son of God? As an atheist, I would have to say not. Who was he? Just what the Bible said he was until the magic mumbo-jumbo men got hold of it, added a bunch of magic, myths, and miracles, and grew wealthy. 

From everything I have read, there is sufficient internal evidence in the gospels themselves to date them after the letters of Paul, even though they are placed in the New Testament before Paul’s letters, and for an obvious polemical reason. “Here’s the story, and this is what Paul did with it.” That is how people think of history: linear in time. And the assumption of Christians is that the New Testament is in fact history, not fable. The history had to come before the faith or the message on which it was built.

Paul’s letters especially warn in several places, both explicitly and implicitly, of forgeries in Paul’s name. That proves that at least one letter of Paul’s was a forgery. So why not more, if not all of them? I’m not the first to note that Paul seemed completely unaware of the miraculous birth, the Virgin Mary, and the choirs of angels, which is another reason to place the composition of the Gospels after the letters of Paul—40 to 70 years after the events they described. Nor would it be unreasonable to assume that the gospels had the same problems. Who among those who wrote them were actual, not “near,” eyewitnesses? Also, If the writers of the Gospels were eyewitnesses to the events recorded, they would have had to have been nearly adults when they occurred. To say that they were writing about these events 60 or 70 years later also strains credibility, since life expectancy was half what it is now. So, more and more, it is not impossible, just all very unlikely.

Moreover, one could choose to place the gospels’ composition before the destruction of the Temple by claiming they are “prophecies,” to more than 150 years after the events that they describe, because most prophecies work that way. They very accurately predict the past. It’s just simpler and less open to contradiction by putting the gospels before the letters of Paul.

I doubt that these issues will ever be resolved, unless there are new source documents that can be accurately dated, which seems highly unlikely to me. The P52 fragment, cited as “proof” of the eye-witnessing of the gospels, for example, really doesn’t say very much about anything. Even saying that is a fragment of the gospel of John is highly questionable, given that it could merely be quoting a small portion of that gospel, rather than being a fragment of the actual gospel itself. We simply don’t know, and we may never know. That’s why weighing improbabilities is important.

Sherlock Holmes vs. The Historical Jesus: It’s Elementary!

My questions about the gospels as historical documents go in a much different direction. Sherlock Holmes actually delineated the real questions to me: he said he could believe the impossible, because there are things we don’t know, but the improbable was much harder to account for, because of all the things we do know. He also said (I’m paraphrasing) that once you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, is most likely the truth. These are not necessarily contradictions, because a third proposition can be derived from them: once you begin to admit that the improbable is true, you open the door for the impossible to be commonplace. And vice versa. And this is why the Gospels so often impugn themselves. 

The improbability of what the birth narratives imply is what creates the biggest questions for me, far more than the likely impossibility of the events they describe: that is to say, not the miracles themselves, but the unlikelihood of the aftermath of the unfolding events. We are told that an angel appeared to shepherds in the fields to announce the birth of Jesus. Why to shepherds, and not king Herod or governor Quirinius? That would have gotten God’s message out. Why in a backwater like Nazareth, when Rome, or even Jerusalem, wasn’t all that far away? The same questions arise about the miracle of Fatima in 1917: why did the Virgin Mary appear to ignorant peasant children, when Lisbon with its universities and learning wasn’t a great distance. Shepherds are nobodies, but using them does play into the apocalyptic climate of the time: the last shall be first, the mighty shall be laid low, the hungry shall be fed and the rich sent away, and so on. This is from the text of the Magnificat, Mary’s poetical thanks-be-to-God. It does exactly the same thing, and probably for the same reasons. The lowly shall be made great, just like Jesus was born in a manger and is the king of heaven. Follow us, and you’ll get both your reward and your revenge. 

The choirs of angels announced the birth of Emanuel, “God with us.” Choirs of angels, visiting Wisemen from the east, who saw “his star in the east.” His star. This is a clear astrological reference, as astrology passed for science frequently in those days. This in itself indicates magic being a part of all of this. “We have seen his star in the East.” So why did they travel West? Magic! And why are they paying homage to Jesus? They don’t appear to be Jews, and they certainly can’t be Christians.

But here is where Sherlock Holmes comes in. Jesus is born with choirs of angels declaring that he is “God with us.” And then, apart from a mention of Jesus preaching in the temple, Jesus disappears for 30 years. This is what I find improbable. How could such a great miracle, complete with angels and heavenly choirs, be suddenly forgotten, and never mentioned again? Not one person is quoted as saying, “Isn’t that Joseph and Mary’s son, the one that was announced by choirs of angels claiming that he was God with us?” To me, it absolutely strains credibility, that in a time like this one it would be completely forgotten. And outside of the various gospels, the whole miraculous event went completely unnoticed by anyone, including Jewish historians. 

But again, the gospels once again give us the clue that it’s all made up. In Mark, we learn that Jesus’s family thought that he was crazy and wanted to put him away. And on what planet does that make sense, given that Mary was told that she would be bearing the son of God, and Joseph, who “was minded to put her away privily,” was told not to do that because this was a miracle of a birth. It’s highly improbable that his entire family, and everyone who knew any of them, forgot all about the choirs of angels and everything else associated with him. Why this would even be included in the gospels makes no sense, as it undermines the whole story. 

It makes sense only if the Gospels, like the theology of Paul, are actually two stories being told simultaneously. The Dead Sea Scrolls imply that this was common practice: one story for the masses, and the pesher, or secret meaning, for the elect. I contend the family reaction to Jesus is most likely a part of the actual historical narrative, and not part of the magic and myths and miracles that were added on later. 

Even assuming the truth of the Christian story, that Jesus was the son of God, none of this was ever mentioned again, and if I am remembering properly, Matthew’s Gospel didn’t mention it at all. And of course, neither did Paul. In Romans, he seems to be saying that God and Jesus are separate people. It seems likely to me that these were all later embellishments, added in a time when belief in magic and miracles were commonplace. And it was intended to add credibility for the uneducated. The Orange Messiah loves his uneducated people, ya know. Why not the original Messiah?

So who was the historical Jesus?

Stripping the magic and miracles from the story of Jesus, without necessarily touching the religious aspects of it—though they may well be exactly the same thing—I think that the actual story of Jesus can be found in the Gospel narratives. Jesus was born of Mary and Joseph, both of whom were descended from David. On his mother’s side, he was a priest. On his father’s side, he was a king. Mary, actually Maryam, the priestess-sister of Moses, was a generic name for a priestess in those days. That’s why there are so many of them in the NT story. Mary of Magdala was another priestess, always portrayed in red, whence we get the term Scarlet Woman. And as for Joseph: “thou son of David,” “Where is the new born king of Israel,” INRI (“Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum”—Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews) posted over the cross, and so on? Just more of the same idea.

Another clue to that idea is where Jesus seeks out his cousin, John the Baptist. All of these people were related or knew each other, and more importantly, knew who each other were. The priestly part of his lineage interested Jesus greatly, possibly because he was far more connected to his mother than to his father, who essentially disappears from the story. This also explains the mixup in his genealogy, with different lines cited in different Gospels. It was all about David the King. His status was priest-king, much like Prester John and later Christian stories, something that CS Lewis referred to when he named the hero in his space trilogy Mr. Fisher-King, although his given name was Ransom, which was no accident, of course. 

Jesus was the Messiah, the anointed one, the royal one, who would lead Israel against the hated Romans. This explains also why he was never heard from again for 30 years, except right before his Bar Mitzvah, where he amazed everyone with his knowledge. It also explains why he made his entry into Jerusalem, why he “fulfilled” the prophecies, and why it all came crashing down shortly afterwards. He was a priest, not a politician, and a nobody, not a general. It explains why Judas was first attracted to him, but later “betrayed” him when he realized that Jesus wasn’t interested in the king part, or the political side, at all. Shades of Jesus Christ Superstar! Jesus himself was quite clear on the subject: My kingdom is not of this world. All that is required is a slight shift of perspective to see that he meant that literally. Unfortunately, because he just didn’t turn out to be the one promised to relieve the Hebrews of those annoying Romans, they turned on him. That was pretty much that, and it’s what the Bible clearly says. 

But Pilate didn’t know any of that. He didn’t care about the religion, which is why he said he found no fault in Jesus. What he saw was a possible threat to Rome’s political power, and therefore his own, of course. But to keep the peace, he crucified Jesus, because that was what was done with political insurrectionists. Rome was happy and Pilate was happy. Also, the Pharisees and the Sadducees were happy, because their power was threatened by Jesus the priest as well.

Paul and Jesus: the rest of the story 

It was well after the death of Jesus that the Gospels were written, after the letters of Paul, after Paul had started his religion. But he had already started with the magic, myths and miracles by talking about the resurrected Jesus. He opened the door to the impossible and the improbable because he was starting a new religion, and as with Glycon, that’s how they did it in those days. Thus, it is no surprise that he seemed completely unaware of the virgin birth and the choirs of angels and the miracles. 

At the beginning of this essay, I offered six possible options for the reality of Jesus. The only one I have not discussed so far is the one that sociologically, I think is most likely. Christianity, like all religions, like the cult of Glycon in particular, was a business. In her book, Jesus and the Riddle of the Dead Sea Scrolls, Barbara Thiering goes on at length about precisely that. Given all of Paul’s scurrying around the empire, and the money, and the influence, Paul was interested in starting a business/religion. Whether he actually believed any of it is another story. His warning in Galatians that no one should believe or buy any gospel but his, as well as his conflicts with the early Christian leaders who actually knew Jesus, are a good indication of what he was about. There was no Spirit Airlines in those days. It cost money to travel, and it took a long time to do it. It was a way to earn a living.

So I think that is the real story of Jesus, and it’s right there in the gospels, but overlaid with magic, myths, and miracles. And then to me there is always this question, one that is never answered except by a wave of the hands: who was bar Abbas, the Son of the Father, also known as Jesus bar Abbas (see Matthew 27:15–18)? That is a very familiar phrase in the Gospels: “He shall be called the Son of the Father, Emmanuel, God with us.” 

And what about the mentions of “other” Jesuses in the NT? It was a common enough name, but all of these were people that seem to have some kind of status. They made it into the story for some reason. Were at least some of them, if not all, the same Jesus, the one that survived? And if this Jesus bar Abbas, who escaped the crucifixion, survived, is this why the tomb was empty? This would also explain why Jesus was able to make appearances after he was “dead,” because no one survives crucifixion. He didn’t die and/or he wasn’t resurrected. And maybe what those other mentions of Jesus were referring to were just the one that survived. Barbara Thiering’s book says precisely that. Jesus was traveling around with Paul, and quite possibly showing off his scars and wounds to “prove” that he had been resurrected. Paul very tellingly spoke in the present tense: “For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile.” 

Paul was making his money. 

I realize that Barbara Thiering is not considered the best Jesus scholar around, and there are reasons to be highly critical of her work. But that doesn’t mean her take on the story isn’t a correct one, especially given the improbabilities and the impossibilities that are presented as absolute facts in the gospels, despite all of the contradictions. 

And because it makes much more sense than all of the magic, myths, and miracles. When you eliminate the improbable and the impossible, whatever remains, if not fabricated from whole cloth, must be the truth.

I have one last question. Who was the “evil priest” discussed in the Dead Sea Scrolls? If those scrolls have anything at all to do with the events surrounding the life and times of Jesus, an answer to that question could be very important. That person was not named, only referred to. Thiering—I think, because it’s been quite a few years since I read her book, and it might have been someone else—thinks that it was Paul. I think that it was Karen Armstrong—again, it’s been a few years since I read her books—who believes it was Jesus himself. If Jesus survived the crucifixion and was wandering around telling people that he had been resurrected, that might make perfect sense. It explains the conflicts that Paul had with the people who knew Jesus in Jerusalem.

We may never get definitive answers to these questions. But once the magic, myths, and miracles are removed from the New Testament, which they must be by rational people—and by rational, I mean non-religious—what are we left with, but a possible historical record that has been thoroughly contaminated by both the improbable and the impossible.

Defending the Bible with undesigned coincidences

Searching for undesigned coincidences is an exciting new pastime within Christian apologetics. Well, maybe not new—it’s an exciting revived pastime. Undesigned Coincidences in the Writings Both of the Old and New Testament was published in 1854, and other books preceded it.

So what is an undesigned coincidence?

Example 1: “Prophesy!”

Here’s an example. In Matthew 26:67–8, we read about Jesus being arrested and brought before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish council. After the high priest concludes that Jesus has spoken blasphemy,

Then they spit in his face and struck him with their fists. Others slapped him and said, “Prophesy to us, Messiah. Who hit you?”

Huh? Why is prophecy mentioned here? And why demand that Jesus identify who hit him when they were all standing right there?

But turn to Luke 22:63–4, and we get more details.

The men who were guarding Jesus began mocking and beating him. They blindfolded him and demanded, “Prophesy! Who hit you?”

Aha! Jesus was blindfolded—that’s why prophecy is mentioned. They were mocking Jesus’s inability to identify who hit him. Surely a “Son of God” could see even if blindfolded. Now the incident in Matthew makes sense.

But note that the surprise vanishes if you just read them in the opposite order. Luke reports the blindfold, and the reader will then correct the omission when reading Matthew.

More important, these two gospels don’t tell the same story. In Matthew, the beating comes from members of the Sanhedrin, at the end of the trial. But in Luke, it’s guards who beat Jesus, and then he’s taken to the Sanhedrin.

Perhaps apologists should avoid drawing attention to incompatibilities between two versions of a story, because that often just makes the Bible look more flawed.

So what is an undesigned coincidence? Tim McGrew defines it this way:

Sometimes two works written by different authors incidentally touch on the same point in a manner that cannot be written off as copying or having a copy made from some third source.… The two records interlock like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Let’s look at another couple of examples.

Example 2: Feeding the five thousand

In the story of the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus was teaching a large crowd. It was late in the day, and Jesus wanted to give them food (one Christian source explores this here). In Mark 6:39, we read:

Then Jesus directed [the disciples] to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass.

Green grass—that’s an interesting detail. Isn’t this the desert? Should we expect green grass?

But this is explained in John’s version of the story when he adds this detail:

The Jewish Passover Festival was near (John 6:4).

The Passover is always shortly after the March (spring) equinox, spring is when it rains in Palestine, and rain makes the grass turns green. Like a jigsaw puzzle with a piece neatly added, the mystery is solved.

Okay, but grass must be green sometime, even if there’s a dry season. The Bible frequently mentions livestock, so it’s no surprise that the grass must periodically be green to feed them. Is this much of an aha?

Example 3: Philip of Bethsaida

Early in the gospel of John, we read that Philip was from Bethsaida (John 1:44). A few chapters later is John’s version of the Feeding of the Five Thousand. Jesus asks Philip where to buy bread for the crowd (John 6:5–7). But why Philip? He seems a random choice—he’s not a prominent disciple, and he wasn’t in charge of the money.

But read the parallel story in Luke, and we find that the gathering takes place at Bethsaida (Luke 9:10–17). So that’s why Jesus asked Philip—being from that town, he might know the best place for bread (source).

What’s the big deal?

Let’s accept that one story might be incomplete but that a clue far from that context (in another chapter or even in another book) plausibly explains some small puzzle. So what? Sure, let’s say that the books of the New Testament have omissions. That makes them look like ordinary books written with no supernatural oversight. How does this help the apologist?

Here’s one apologist’s answer:

Once you have considered the massive weight of the evidence from untold numbers of undesigned coincidences, can you really maintain your skepticism of the historicity of the Bible?

Huh? Where is this massive weight of evidence?? You seem to imagine that only the supernatural explains this. But how?

One final source makes a popular argument for the value of undesigned coincidences.

Much like a puzzle, it fits like a hand into a glove. This is not at all the type of pattern that one would expect to see in the event of some kind of conspiratorial manufacturing of the story. When taken as a cumulative argument—many instances considered collectively—one has a powerful argument for the overall general reliability and integrity of the gospel narratives.

In other words, this is just the tired “Why would anyone invent the Jesus story?!” thesis.

My answer: I dunno why anyone would invent the Jesus story. I never claimed they did.

And this is a powerful new argument in the apologists’ arsenal? From the stew of oral history, the basic story will be written in different ways in different places in the Christian world, and this confusion is cited as reason to believe the Bible more strongly? Why is this even a thing? Perhaps apologists should avoid drawing attention to incompatibilities between two versions of a story, because that often just makes the Bible look more flawed.

This is like the Argument from Accurate Place Names, which praises the Bible for recording the names for many places that are later confirmed by history or archaeology. Big deal.

Now it’s the skeptics’ turn

Let’s invert this idea of illuminating a story told in one place with a clue from another. Take Mark 3:21, where the family of Jesus came to take him away because, “he is out of his mind.” But after the death of Jesus, his brother James became a leader in the Jerusalem church (Acts 1:18). That is, first James (and the rest of his family) thought Jesus was crazy, and then James changed his mind to become a leader in the church. But Mark was written after both of these. Why did Mark only include the first part, leaving out the conversion of James? Mark ends with us having a completely wrong understanding of James’ relationship to the church. How about that for an undesigned coincidence?

Or see this from another angle. Take the same “Jesus is crazy” incident in Mark and pair it with the nativity stories from Matthew and Luke. Mary saw the magi with their gifts and was visited by an angel. How could she or anyone in her family later think Jesus was crazy?

Or, how could John the Baptist baptize Jesus and see the Holy Spirit and hear God’s voice (Matthew 3:16–17) but then months later ask Jesus if he was the One (Matt. 11:2–3)? (More on this incident here.)

Or, how can Jesus explain to his disciples how the end game was going to play out, including his crucifixion and resurrection, three times in each synoptic gospel and yet the disciples are despondent at the crucifixion? A little forgetfulness doesn’t explain this. (More on this here.)

Christian apologists encourage students of the Bible to pull together facts from throughout the Bible, hoping to strengthen one story with another. But they must remember the embarrassing contradictions that will also emerge.

Birds born in a cage
think flying is an illness.
— Alejandro Jodorowsky