Jesus tells the parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11–32. We’re all familiar with it—a son demands his share of his inheritance and then runs off to some foreign land and wastes it. Destitute, he finally sees the error of his ways and decides to return. He throws himself on his father’s mercy, but the father forgives him in an instant and celebrates his return.
I’m against much of what the Bible says, but here’s a story that has real value. It has become a universally understood metaphor in Western civilization, but the Bible is an odd place to find it. Perhaps God might do well by reading it and resetting his own moral compass by its wisdom.
By contrast, the Old Testament has many one-strike-and-you’re-out stories about God. For example, Uzzah touched the Ark of the Covenant to steady it when the oxen stumbled, but God zapped him dead (1 Chronicles 13:9–10). There’s Onan, who didn’t want to impregnate his sister-in-law and “spilled his seed” (Genesis 38:8-10). Don’t forget that poor schlub who picked up sticks on the Sabbath (Numbers 15:32–6). And, of course, Adam and Eve when they ate the forbidden fruit.
This isn’t the “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love” God that other parts of the Bible imagine (Psalm 103:8). God has a short fuse and isn’t at all forgiving, quite the opposite of the father in the parable.
If the moral of the parable is that we need to forgive, even after we’ve been grossly wronged, why can’t God set the example? Is he drunk with power, a deity who can do whatever the heck he likes? That’s the message from Job.
Some apologists will argue that it’s ridiculous to try to understand God’s actions with our puny minds. So what if God’s approach makes no sense? God is inscrutable and we should just assume that whatever God does is good and right by definition. The first problem is that this presupposes God and interprets the facts to fit. The second is that Christians who opt for this route must avoid labels for God that pretend that they do understand his actions, like “just” or “good.”
Imagine a Christian responding to something bad happening by saying that we simple humans can’t understand God’s reasoning. But when something good happens, of course, that same Christian is certain that he understands God’s thought process. I got the new job; the Americans conquer Iraq; a single baby is found alive in a crashed airplane—God’s generosity is boundless and his purpose is clear!
Use the “God can’t be understood” defense if you want, but be consistent. If we can’t understand why God allowed the Holocaust, then we can’t understand why he allowed the survivor in the plane crash.
But to get back to the point, why does God not follow the example of the father in the Prodigal Son parable? If we’ve wronged God, why can’t he just forgive us with no strings attached?
In fact, he does! God says of the people of Israel, “I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more” (Jeremiah 31:34). He says something almost identical in Isaiah 43:25. One wonders then why the song and dance about Jesus dying for our sins.
Incredibly, I’ve heard apologists try to justify the Prodigal Son story by saying that the moral of the story isn’t that generous forgiveness is a good thing. No, the point of the story is that you must ask for forgiveness (like Christians must ask God). They sacrifice a noble story to try to salvage the logic of their religion. Sad.
During the upcoming Easter season, why imagine that a human sacrifice must be given to appease a savage Bronze Age deity? Let’s see the Prodigal Son story as a far more healthy response to being wronged.

An atheist believes that a hospital should be built instead of a church. 
An atheist believes that deed must be done instead of prayer said. 
An atheist strives for involvement in life and not escape into death. 
He wants disease conquered, poverty vanished, war eliminated.
— Madalyn Murray O’Hair

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 4/1/13.)
Image credit: Way of Mercy Icons, flickr, CC

In the New Testament, Jesus does lots of impressive miracles.
More precisely, they were impressive for the time. Today we surpass them with technology so regularly that we often don’t notice. Let’s compare the miracles of Jesus with what modern technology can do.
Jesus walked on water. We can’t walk on water, but we can travel on the water in a vast array of boats, both large and small, powered and wind driven. For example, an aircraft carrier can carry 5000 people, sail at 30+ knots, and operate for 20 years without refueling. We can travel under the water with submarines. We can fly above the water with airplanes. We have even gone to the moon.
Feeding of the 5000. We can’t feed people with magic, but we can still feed lots of people. Norman Borlaug has saved perhaps one billion lives from starvation because of improved strains of wheat, for which he won the 1970 Nobel Peace Prize. The Haber process, which turns nitrogen into ammonia, produces fertilizer that is estimated “to be responsible for sustaining one-third of the Earth’s population.”
Cursing the fig tree. Jesus was hungry, but it wasn’t the season for figs. Nevertheless, Jesus cursed a fig tree, and it withered. While we can’t destroy trees with magic, we’ve got the destruction thing figured out. We have herbicide that kills plants. We have chain saws and bulldozers. We have dynamite and hydrogen bombs.
Water to wine. If the point here is wine as a safe drink (ground water can be polluted, and the alcohol in wine reduces the chance of bacterial contamination), modern societies provide safe water and sewers for waste.
Miraculous catch of fish. We can’t catch fish with magic, but modern fishing trawlers do a good job at catching lots of fish. They do perhaps too good a job, and aquaculture now produces as much tonnage as wild capture to reduce humanity’s footprint.
Calming the storm. We can’t stop storms, but we have gotten pretty good at prediction. We’re able to minimize the loss of life from disasters like the 1900 Galveston hurricane. Technology can also warn of tornadoes and tsunamis.
Prophecies. Jesus predicted his death and his second coming, but pause for a moment to consider this quote from Shakespeare:

Glendower: I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?

Jesus made prophecies, and so can any man, but do they actually come true? His predictions of a second coming within the lifetimes of some witnesses didn’t come to pass. His prediction of his death is part of a story that we have little reason to see as history.
Healing miracles. Jesus did many of these (I explored the healing miracles here). For example, he healed lepers. We don’t heal lepers with magic but with antibiotics. Leprosy is no longer much of a problem, as is the case for smallpox, bubonic plague, and polio.
Jesus cast out demons. We don’t, because we know they don’t cause disease. We can’t cure all illnesses, but we do a better job now that we’re focused on the actual causes.
Jesus restored sight and hearing. Here again, we can’t prevent all such cases or cure all that occur, but medicine has made remarkable improvements in health.
Jesus raised the dead. We don’t use magic, but modern medicine has returned thousands from conditions that just a century ago would be considered “dead.”
What Jesus didn’t do. Jesus didn’t do any miracles against which we can parallel civil engineering such as roads, bridges, and buildings. Or communication—telephones and the internet. Or the textile industry or the energy industry or the chemical industry or the transportation industry.
What Jesus did was party stunts. From helping God create the universe, he was reduced to doing magic for small audiences and today just appears in toast. Many of his tricks weren’t even all that new. For example, Greek mythology had the Oenotropae who could change water into wine. If Jesus were the real thing, unlike the claims of other religions, he could’ve created a supernova or terraformed Israel to replace deserts with farmland. Or maybe something that would’ve left a record that we could see today.
Some Christians will agree and say that Jesus didn’t come to improve the lot of people on earth but simply to spread his message.

Do not believe me unless I do the works of my Father. But if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father. (John 10:37–8)

Okay, we can’t duplicate what Jesus did by magic. But everything that has been improved for humanity has been improved by humanity. Even granting for the sake of argument that they happened, technology puts the claimed miracles of Jesus in perspective.

Religion may not be dying just yet, 
but it’s sure getting feeble in this age of reason.
— comment at WWJTD blog

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 3/25/13.)
Photo credit: Wikimedia

Starting with the popular Christian principle, “Let the easy Bible passages interpret the hard ones,” we’ve been examining five principles for biblical interpretation (beginning with this post). Here are the final three.
Principle #3: Begin with the assumption that the Bible has no contradictions
Here’s the principle stated in “How to Interpret the Bible” (HIB):

The “analogy of faith” is a reformed hermeneutical principle which states that, since all scriptures are harmoniously united with no essential contradictions, therefore, every proposed interpretation of any passage must be compared with what the other parts of the Bible teach. In other words, the body of doctrine, which the scriptures as a whole proclaim will not be contradicted in any way by any passage. Therefore, if two or three different interpretations of a verse are equally possible, any interpretation that contradicts the clear teaching of any other scriptures must be ruled out from the beginning.

So before you say, “Aha—there’s a contradiction here in the Bible,” go back and rethink that, because there are no contradictions. (The first rule of Look for Contradictions in the Bible Club is that there are no contradictions in the Bible.)
You can see the problem. “There are no contradictions” would be a conclusion, not a starting assumption, and there is a huge mountain to climb before this principle can be validated.
As an aside, this principle, where Christians simply declare that the Bible has no contradictions, has a parallel in Islam. The Principle of Abrogation states that if there’s a contradiction in the Quran, the later passage (that is, the one written later) wins out over the earlier. Problem solved—no more contradiction.
As damning as the Muslim principle is (how could the Prophet have gotten it wrong the first time?), at least it’s a rule. Principle 3 simply makes a groundless assertion.
Let’s let the Bible itself speak on this.

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16).
You shall not add to the word which I command you, nor take anything from it, that you may keep the commandments of Yahweh which I command you (Deuteronomy 4:2).

The verse from 1 Timothy tells us that any passage, even the ones that make Christians squirm, should be read and followed, and the one from Deuteronomy says that the Bible must be allowed to speak for itself and not be treated like a marionette. So next time you pick the more pleasing verse and pretend the “difficult” verse doesn’t exist, don’t!
Principle #4: Begin with the assumption that the Bible is infallible and inerrant.
Here are a few excerpts from the 1978 Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy, a joint project of more than 200 evangelical leaders:

We affirm that canonical Scripture should always be interpreted on the basis that it is infallible and inerrant.
We deny that alleged errors and discrepancies that have not yet been resolved vitiate the truth claims of the Bible.

(Infallible means reliable and trustworthy, and inerrant means containing no mistakes in statements of fact.)
There is no interest here in following evidence. You don’t need to make a reasoned argument if you’re simply going to declare this as a faith position. “The Bible is manmade” has been ruled out, not because the evidence points elsewhere but simply as fiat.
What’s the point of scholarship in this environment? This is intellectual in the same way that discussing strategy in a card game is intellectual. Sure, much mental energy can be spent on the project and interesting ideas can come from it, but in the end it’s just a game. It becomes just one stake in the field of Dogma. Without any empirical evidence to ground this view, other Christians will simply put their stakes where they please.
Principle 5: Avoid claims built on uncertain grounds
From HIB:

Don’t build a doctrine upon a single verse or an uncertain textual reading. We should not erect an entire teaching or system of doctrine upon a verse in isolation from its context, or which has dubious textual support. Christian doctrine should be built upon passages which exist in the original manuscripts and can be confirmed through the science of textual criticism.

I agree that the manuscript tradition should be reliable, but keep in mind how difficult it is to know what the originals said. Scholars do a good job deciding which of two variant traditions is the older one. What they don’t do well is deciding between two traditions when they only have copies of one. We have a centuries-long dark ages before the earliest codices of the fourth century—who knows how many hundreds or thousands of changes were made that we don’t know of?
The principle argues that we not build anything substantial on a verse that is an outlier. That sounds sensible until we consider that this conflict—the general consensus versus the outlier—means that there’s a contradiction in the Bible. Principle #3 declares that contradictions don’t exist, but of course that’s a declaration built on nothing.
The second problem is that one of the most important Christian doctrines, the Trinity, violates this principle. There are a few verses that speak of the three persons separately in one sentence (for example, “Make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit” from Matthew 28:19), but this is a long way from the elaborate Trinitarian handwaving in the Athanasian Creed of around 500 CE. This is the one principle that makes sense, and it tells us that there’s scant evidence for Paul or Jesus having a Trinitarian concept of God.
I wonder why Christians don’t apply these principles to other religions’ holy books (or even apply them consistently to their own).

The Bible is 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

No man ever believes that the Bible means what it says.
He is always convinced that it says what he means.
— George Bernard Shaw

Image credit: Photo Editing Services Tucia, flickr, CC

In Christians’ Damning Refuge in “Difficult Verses,” we looked at a Christian response to the well-known Dawkins Quote (“The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction …”). This response tried to distinguish between “clear” and “hard” passages in the Bible. But is the problem that some verses are unclear or that they’re actually unpleasant, with clear/hard simply misdirection to justify ignoring verses where God’s barbaric behavior is on display?
Christians will tell me to look without bias at what the Bible says and I’ll do my honest best, but I have no patience for when they don’t follow their own rules. Or when their own rules demand that they be biased.
Consider these Christian recommendations for how to interpret the Bible. We’ll start with an elaboration of the one we’ve just seen, “take the clearer passages to interpret the harder passages.”
Two of my sources are “How to Interpret the Bible” and “Ten principles when considering alleged Bible contradictions.” From this point forward, I’ll abbreviate these as HIB and 10P. (I’ve responded to 10P in depth here.)
Principle #1: Let the Bible clarify the Bible
Or, as HIB puts it, “The Clear Must Interpret the Unclear”:

Murky passages can often be clarified by other scriptures which address the particular topic in a more straightforward way. For example, a very specific interpretation of the highly symbolic visions of John’s apocalypse [that is, the book of Revelation], may never “trump” the clear teachings of Paul’s epistles, which are more didactic and less symbolic, and hence clearer.

Here’s another way to see that clear/unclear simply mean pleasing/displeasing. When someone says that verse A is clear and B unclear (so we should focus on verse A, ignore verse B, and pretend we didn’t notice any contradiction), ask why that’s the order. Why isn’t B the clear one? For example, Paul says, “[All I’ve been saying is] that the Messiah would suffer and, as the first to rise from the dead, would bring the message of light to his own people and to the Gentiles” (Acts 26:23). But this is contradicted by (1) the zombies that came out of their graves on the death of Jesus (Matthew 27:52), who were actually the first to rise from the dead, and (2) the gospels themselves, which say that Jesus had a long ministry before his resurrection, not after as Paul says it. Why do the gospels trump Paul?
Or take the duration of Jesus’s time on earth after the resurrection. Why is it popularly seen as forty days (Acts 1:3)? Why not one day (Luke 24:51)?
Here’s another example. Harold Camping famously made a fool of himself when he predicted the Rapture on May 21, 2011. The first lesson from the Camping fiasco is that testability is not the prophet’s friend. If you’re going to predict something, make it vague to give you plausible deniability after your inevitable failure. (John Hagee didn’t get the message when he said in 2013, “The coming four blood moons points to a world-shaking event that will happen between April 2014 and October 2015.” Whoops—wrong again.)
But the second lesson is that the Bible is a sock puppet that can say almost anything you want, despite the principle of “Let the Bible clarify the Bible.” Christian apologists, embarrassed by Camping’s date for the Last Days®, quoted Paul speaking about the end: “The day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.… Destruction will come on them suddenly, as labor pains on a pregnant woman” (1 Thessalonians 5:2–3). That is, the end must be a surprise, and Camping couldn’t have correctly calculated the date of the Rapture.
Camping trumped that by quoting the very next verse: “But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness so that this day should surprise you like a thief.” That is, the chosen won’t be surprised by the end.
The lack of biblical clarity and the inadequacy of Principle #1 is made particularly clear by Christianity’s 45,000 denominations (and counting). If the Bible were the clear message from an omniscient Creator, there would be just one.
Principle #2: “Description is different than approval”
10P says:

Sometimes critics of the Bible (or critics of Christianity in general) point to an evil or corrupt situation described in the Bible to argue God (or Christianity) approves of the situation (or is the source of the evil). Remember, just because a Biblical author writes about something, this does not mean God condones it or supports it.

This principle attempts to tap dance away from God’s approval of things we find horrifying today like slavery and genocide.
Here’s an exercise that will explore what God does and doesn’t approval of. Consider the following lists, each containing three items mentioned in the Bible. For each list, think about what connects the items in that list and how it is different from the other lists:

1. Murder, lying, and stealing
2. Slavery, genocide, and polygamy
3. Weights and measures for commerce, sheep herding, and eating meat

The items in List 1 (murder, lying, and stealing) are all prohibited in Exodus 20. They’re typically numbered 6, 8, and 9 in the Ten Commandments. (As an aside, it’s interesting that they’re not on the second version in Exodus 34, the one that found its way into the Ark of the Covenant.)
The items in List 2 (slavery, genocide, and polygamy) are never prohibited. They can be restricted, however (for example, elders are to have just one wife according to 1 Timothy 3:2), and rules can apply (for example, slaves can be beaten, but not so much that they die according to Exodus 21:20).
The items in List 3 (weights and measures, herding, and meat) are also never prohibited. Rules can apply to them as well (“The Lord detests dishonest scales, but accurate weights find favor with him”).
Lists 2 and 3 are distinguishable only in how we judge them—we prohibit List 2 but accept List 3—but that’s not in the Bible. This leaves us with the biblical view of prohibited things in List 1 versus acceptable things (though possibly regulated by God-given rules) in Lists 2 and 3.
Only modern sensibilities tell us that slavery, genocide, and polygamy are bad. Not only did God regulate slavery and polygamy just like he did accurate weights and measures, Jesus had nothing bad to say about them either.
This principle, “Description is different than approval,” is a transparent attempt to give God a pass when he goes off his meds. It fails.
Conclusion: three more principles in part 2.

You give me the awful impression, I hate to have to say it,
of someone who hasn’t read any of the arguments against your position ever.
— Christopher Hitchens

Image credit: Forsaken Fotos, flickr, CC

This is a guest post by Anthony Coleman, a former Christian (but still a theist). His book The Evangelical Experience: Understanding One of America’s Largest Religious Movements from the Inside was recently published. In this post, he explains how understanding the apocalyptic claims of Jesus toppled his faith.
I remember hearing in church growing up that “the early Christians expected Jesus to come back soon.” From my experience, this is actually a fairly uncontroversial thing to say, even in a conservative church. You may have even heard it from your own pastor. As a former Evangelical, I wonder why this doesn’t cause believers more concern. Maybe it’s the phrasing. It was only the “early Christians” who “expected” something that didn’t happen. Those words don’t sound any alarms. But to put it in starker terms, it seems that the Bible is wrong about the return of Christ. A pastor making this claim has a controversy on his hands.
Although I tried to get out of it for several years, I eventually came to this conclusion for myself – the biblical authors were simply wrong about the return of Jesus.
In 1 Thessalonians, Paul expects to be alive for the event:

We who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds. (1 Thessalonians 4:15–17)

In 1 Corinthians, Paul encourages believers to refrain from seeking marriage, due to the immanency of the “world’s present form” passing away:

I think that in view of the present distress it is good for a person to remain as he is. Are you bound to a wife? Do not seek to be free. Are you free from a wife? Do not seek a wife … This is what I mean, brothers: the appointed time has grown very short. From now on, let those who have wives live as though they had none, and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing…. For the present form of this world is passing away. (1 Corinthians 7:26–27, 29–31)

We also have more brief expressions of this belief from various other biblical writers:

The end of all things is at hand … (1 Peter 4:7)
Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and late rains. You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. (James 5:7–8)
Children, it is the last hour, and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come. Therefore we know that it is the last hour. (1 John 2:18)
He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! (Revelation 22:20)

And not only do we have these fairly straightforward statements about the expectation of an early return, we also have records of justifications and re-interpretations from the Church when Jesus didn’t come back so quickly.

Scoffers will come in the last days with scoffing, following their own sinful desires. They will say, “Where is the promise of his coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all things are continuing as they were from the beginning of creation.”…But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. (2 Peter 3:3–4, 8–10)
When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!” So the saying spread abroad among the brothers that this disciple was not to die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he was not to die, but “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?” (John 21:21–23)

Critics wonder where this return is. John has died, Jesus hasn’t come, and the church needs to re-interpret. A day is like a thousand years.
I suppose with some extremely creative exegesis, you could wiggle out of these verses. “Soon,” “the final hour,” “the end of all things,” and “at hand” could, perhaps, find alternate translations. Some might argue that these verses are somehow referring to the fall of Jerusalem or other events. Preterism (the belief that all biblical prophecy, including verses predicting Jesus’ “return,” have already occurred) or partial-Preterism are options presented on the theological table. For me, I couldn’t get around it. Looking at the Scriptures, even as a professing Evangelical Christian, I was forced to conclude that something the early church was expecting to happen, didn’t happen. They (and, because they wrote their thoughts into Scripture, the Bible) were simply wrong about the immediate return of Christ.
Some Christians may be able to deal with an errant church and even an errant Bible. But, even more controversially, could these expectations have come from Jesus himself?
With Jesus on record as saying that “the Kingdom of God is at hand,” “you will not finish going through the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes,” “this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things take place,” and “some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom” as well as regularly warning his listeners about an impending final judgment (for instance in Matthew 25), I can’t help but think that they did.
The apocalyptic eschatology of the early church, and, in my opinion, of Jesus himself, was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. It’s why I left the faith. In my book, The Evangelical Experience, I conclude with the following:
“Ultimately I left Evangelicalism because I could no longer believe its core tenets. The issue that pushed me over the edge was the apocalyptic eschatology of Jesus. The ‘Historical Jesus’ scholar Dale Allison explains the term in his Constructing Jesus:

“My claim … is that Jesus held what we may call, for lack of a better expression, an ‘apocalyptic eschatology.’ The words are a convenient shorthand for a cluster of themes well attested in post-exilic Jewish literature, themes that were prominent in a then-popular account of the world that ran, in brief, as follows. Although God created a good world, evil spirits have filled it with wickedness, so that it is in disarray and full of injustice. A day is coming, however, when God will repair the broken creation and restore scattered Israel. Before that time, the struggle between good and evil will come to a climax, and a period of great tribulation and unmatched woe will descend upon the world. After that period, God will, perhaps through one or more messianic figures, reward the just and requite the unjust, both living and dead, and then establish divine rule forever.¹

“The worldview explained by Allison is familiar to Christians, because it is all over the New Testament. What is unfamiliar is the idea that Jesus thought this tribulation and ultimate Divine Deliverance was coming soon. As Allison, again, puts so well:

“His dream, however, has remained a dream. It is not just that, as Matt. 24:36 = Mark 13:32 says, the Son had no knowledge of precisely when the end would come. It is rather that the Son expected and encouraged others to expect that all would wrap up soon, and yet run-of-the-mill history remains with us: Satan still goes to and fro upon the earth.²

“Once the idea of Jesus as an Apocalyptic Prophet was presented to me the whole thing just made sense. The early Christians clearly expected Jesus to return immediately. The synoptic Gospels, on my reading, present Jesus as expecting a final judgment in the near future. It makes sense of his teaching, the warnings of judgment. ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand.’
“When the paradigm was in place, I couldn’t not see it. The evidence, for me, leads to a Jesus who is most fairly labeled as an Apocalyptic Prophet and who called Israel to repentance before an expected immanent final judgment. He was wrong. The world didn’t end and the Divine Rule was not established. My Evangelical faith survived a lot of biblical criticism, but it couldn’t survive that.”
About the author: Anthony Coleman holds a B.A. in Biblical and Theological Studies and an M.A. in Theological Studies from separate Evangelical institutions. He can be contacted at theevangelicalexperience@gmail.com.
¹ Dale Allison, Constructing Jesus: Memory, Imagination, and History (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2010), 32.
² Dale Allison, The Historical Christ and the Theological Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 96. Also see p. 92–95 of the same work for a list of Gospel material indicating that Jesus held an apocalyptic eschatology.