Lou,
I have a lot on my plate now, including preparation for a
debate about Christianity and atheism at Oregon State University later this
month (BL will link to the details once they are posted by the campus forum
that is hosting it). I can’t justify taking most of the week to respond fully
to your argument about the inclusion of women as the first witnesses of the
empty tomb in the gospel narratives (loudly absent in Paul’s account, which
would take many more hours to delve into).
My respect for you as an honest inquirer is considerable,
however, so I will make one final reply on this topic. I realize you might
reply again, perhaps offering yet another hypothesis about the women, as is
your right, but I really won’t take it further.
You are entirely right that Tom Wright and John Polkinghorne
say very little in support of the argument about the women, which both of them—joined
by many, many others—employ in defense of the historicity of the Resurrection. They
deal cursorily (if at all) with objections to that argument, though at least
partly that’s because many objections are pretty weak, since virtually everyone
agrees that the status of women as witnesses was very low and that most male
readers at that time would not be favorably impressed by the fact that they are
said to be the first witnesses of the Resurrection, without whom (in all
accounts) the men would never have gone to the tomb themselves. (A highly
unflattering picture of Jesus’ male disciples, even more unflattering than the
picture we have of Peter denying Jesus. Yet, as Wright eloquently points out, “It
is far, far easier to assume that the women were there at the beginning, just
as, three days earlier, they had been there at the end.” And they were, after
all, the very people who knew exactly where Jesus’ body had been lain, weren’t
they? All the more reason why that embarrassing tradition has to be included,
even if it might not help convert male readers. Some facts aren’t very
convenient, but b/c they are facts they find their way into the story.
In P’s case, it’s almost certainly a consequence of his
general approach in most of his books: they are really extended essays, opinion
pieces written after extensive research and deep thought (often for many
years), intended for the very broad (in a disciplinary sense) but (paradoxically)
fairly small audience that has the background and interest to read about
Christianity and science at a high level. He doesn’t usually provide the kinds
of extensive detail and documentation that he would (and could) provide, if his
purposes were different. He tries to view the landscape of ideas from a place
where the many rivers, peaks, and valleys are visible, and then to draw a map
of what it looks like from the place where he stands. His footnotes are fairly
sparse, when compared with typical scholarly literature—he’s fully scholarly in
his habits and understanding, but he’s not trying to do the nitty gritty work
that scholarly literature usually does. My columns for BL are similar in this
respect: I write as a serious scholar of science and religion, but I’m not
trying to jot every i and cross every t for my readers, or else they would
quickly drop off to sleep. I could certainly do that, and perhaps in a few
columns it shows through, but I don’t normally aim to do it; whereas when I
write for scholarly audiences in my own fields (history of science and science
& religion) it seems that I do almost nothing other than jotting i’s and
crossing t’s.
If you look at his footnotes in the various places where he
writes about the Resurrection, it’s clear that P has in fact read extensively
about it. Sometimes he probably even says a bit too much about certain details,
for most of his readers, but we agree that he leaves too much out for you. As
for Wright, however, his purpose is fully scholarly: so what’s his excuse? Why
does he leave you with a very low impression, when I don’t form the same impression?
If you look again at where he places his brief account of
the women, Lou, then perhaps you’ll notice a few things I notice as a trained scholar
in the humanities. I realize you are a scientist, not a humanist, so please don’t
feel like I’m talking down to you: that’s not my intent, and if we were sharing
coffee together you’d be sure of that. His audience in that book (The Resurrection
of the Son of God) is people like me, not people like you. His first sentence: “One
of the most obvious things … is that they begin with women. This leads to
possibly the most obvious of the four strange things about these stories [a
reference to the chapter as a whole, not the stories of the women], which can
therefore be stated briefly.” A bit later, he says, “The point has been
repeated over and over in scholarship, …” In other words, Lou: everyone knows
this already; I don’t feel the need to review all of the facts, arguments, and
counter-arguments. His notes in this brief section cite several other scholars
who do indeed delve into the details you’re looking for, and in one note he
says, “See now esp[ecially]. Bauckham 2002, ch. 8. Bauckham 258f. provides a
long list of scholars who support the point I am here summarizing, noting the
weakness of opposing arguments.” The specific source is now in front of me,
following a visit to the library: Richard Bauckham (Richard Bauckham - Wikipedia
), formerly (now retired) of St Andrews University, and the book is “Gospel Women.”
(http://www.amazon.com/Gospel-Women-Studies-Named-Gospels/dp/0802849997).
Again—this is hardly the only source he cites, but it’s the one he likes best
in this section of the book.
As you will understand, Lou, I can’t adequately summarize
even one chapter in Bauckham’s book in a short amount of time, but I do
recommend it to you for a much fuller account of the kinds of details you want
to see weighed in the balance. Many, many objections have been raised, and I
think you’ll enjoy reading Bauckham’s treatment of the topic, whether or not
you find any of it persuasive. Your own objection isn’t considered in his
chapter, as far as I can tell from skimming it quickly (I could easily have
missed it), but it doesn’t strike me as a very strong objection. Yes, there’s
also testimony from the men, but so what? Does that remove the significance of
the presence of the tradition about women being first—without whom the men
would never have gone to the tomb? It’s not simply the fact that women saw it
first; it’s the fact that without their courage in going there (while the men
were hiding), and their pluck in telling the very skeptical men what they knew
they’d seen, there’d be no empty tomb narratives at all—whether involving men
or women. That’s huge. And, hugely embarrassing to the men. Inconvenient things
like this don’t seem very likely to get prominent places in stories written to
support the mission those men undertook, unless they happen to be true.
That’s all I have to say, Lou, except to wish you
well.