Richard J. Bauckham

One could expect that editors of the Very Short Introduction series would have chosen an objective, dispassionate scholar for this particular work, one capable of evaluating evidence and exploring alternative points of view. If so, one would be sorely disappointed. Author Richard Bauckman is not only a theologian of Anglican Christianity, but one who holds iconoclastic views within that most dubious of disciplines. Thus, his “introduction” is to a Jesus of his own making, one that would show more be unrecognizable to non-theists as well as to theistic scholars who have spent their careers in debate and study.

This work lacks critical depth, and entirely fails to provide evidence for its many claims and assertions. As one of many points of concern, the author disputes over a century of historical scholarship in his assumption that the “gospels” of the Christian Bible report eyewitness testimony (this despite his admission that they were written between 60 and 90 years after the alleged birth of the Jesus figure). He ignores the many major contradictions between the books known as Mark, Matthew, and Luke with regard to alleged historical events, and dismissed the Documentary Hypothesis derived from careful comparison between these books. Among many breaks with scholarly consensus, he doesn't even consider the widespread belief that the “long ending” of Mark was fabricated in the 2nd century. In this ending, an angel at the tomb informs women that the crucified Jesus is no longer dead, rendering Mark compatible with the beliefs of the early Christians. The original version of Mark, as revealed in the earliest copies, ends on a bleak note, with no mention of resurrection. Such inconvenient facts are ignored because they are incompatible with the author's particular religious views.

Throughout this work, Bauckman builds a theological edifice based on speculation and conjecture. Sentences that begin “it is quite plausible”, and “it is entirely plausible” abound, and the word “probably” appears every few pages, and sometimes multiple times on a single page. The problem for the author’s many claims is that plausibility lies in the mind of the beholder, and the author’s own judgements are based on a host of preconceptions and assumptions with his own religion at their core. True, if one assumes at the outset that the figure under consideration is divine, born by a virgin inseminated by an invisible deity, able to perform miracles, and able to cheat death, then other inferences may follow. But the author’s theological edifice has little to no basis in empirical, verifiable fact.

How much better this work could have been if written by a scholar who didn’t have an ideological axe to grind – one able to explore what (little) is actually known about the figure called Jesus (if he existed at all); how beliefs about that alleged figure have differed historically and culturally; and what belief in that figure has meant to peoples with various belief systems over the past 2000 years. For such a perspective, the open-minded individual will have to seek elsewhere. Works by Bart Ehrman would be a good place to start. Those who consider this book to be “good” may have found justification for things they already wanted to believe, but they will likely never know just how shaky a foundation on which they have built their belief system, if not their entire lives. show less

This is theological apologia badly disguised as an historical overview. The author has real credentials in the subject, but as often happens with theologians, his interest isn't academic, it's faith based. From his book Jesus and the Eyewitnesses: The Gospels as Eyewitness Testimony: "Testimony should be treated as reliable until proved otherwise.". This isn't a historical viewpoint (the gospels can't even be considered eyewitness testimony, and if they were it's notoriously unreliable), and show more if you challenged Bauckham to take the "eyewitness testimony" of Mohammed as preached by Islam seriously he'd immediately backpedal into criticism, because the excuse is just that paper thin.

I don't really have a problem with a theologically motivated defense of the accuracy of the Bible, I've read several, the problem here is the fig leaf of pretense that this isn't apologia, and is somehow "just a historical view". Call the book "Jesus according to the Bible" or otherwise flag the theologically motivated bent and it's a fine book for people who never read the Bible, and want an introduction to that.
If you wanted a historical look at the person Jesus, you got bamboozled. If you want a more skeptical historical view on Jesus read something like How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee. For a literary analysis view on Jesus that doesn't misrepresent itself, try: Jesus and the Gospels. show less

Summary: Argues from both early church fathers and internal evidence that the gospels are based on eyewitness testimony.

Gospel scholarship over the past hundred years has embraced the idea that the gospels reflect anonymous community traditions that have passed through a number of hands, or storytellers. It is assumed that the “historical Jesus” behind these gospels is only dimly and uncertainly accessible. In this work, Richard Bauckham, in Jesus and the Eyewitnesses, asserts that the show more gospels are based on eyewitness testimony concerning the life and teaching of Jesus. His contention is that this testimony is “both a reputable historiographic category for reading the gospels as history and also a theological model for understanding the gospels as the entirely appropriate means of access to the historical reality of Jesus” (p. 5). He cites Samuel Byrskog’s scholarship emphasizing the importance of eyewitness testimony in ancient historiography.

He then begins his case for the gospels as eyewitness testimony with the early church father, Papias. Papias, writing around 130 CE, argued for the “living and surviving voice” rather than information from books. He preferred elders who could testify to what any of the Lord’s disciples had said. Specifically, he gave credence to those who heard Peter, John, Matthew or John the Elder. Rather than collective traditions, he prized above all testimony–the testimony on which our gospels are based.

In succeeding chapters, Bauckham looks at the gospels. He begins with the named persons, arguing their significance as possible sources of the accounts in which they are named. To underscore the credibility of the gospels, he creates a table of names in the gospels. Then he compares it to the frequency of common names of the time, finding significant overlap. He considers the twelve named disciples, the variants on their names, and their significance as eyewitnesses.

Then Bauckham turns to Mark. He notes the use of inclusio in naming Peter at both the beginning and end of the gospel and more than others (he also notes similar forms of inclusio in Luke and John to establish eyewitness testimony). In addition, there is an unusual alternating from third to first person in Mark that Bauckham suggests indicative of Peter’s speech. At this point, Bauckham brings in Papias, who mentions Mark as the translator of Peter. He affirms Matthew as writing an Aramaic version of this gospel (from which our Greek version arises).

Bauckham then offers an extended discussion of oral tradition, memorization, arguing that individuals kept traditions rather than communities. This includes an interesting chapter on eyewitness memory in modern psychology, with the conclusion that the gospels represent genuine memories.

However, the most interesting, and perhaps controversial material in the book, concerns his chapters on the Gospel of John. He argues that John, unlike the other gospels is not based on eyewitness testimony but rather is eyewitness testimony. Specifically, it is the testimony of the Beloved Disciple. However, he would identify “John” not as the son of Zebedee but as “John the Elder,” based on Papias. He argues that this John was not one of the twelve. However, he was a “beloved” friend, part of a larger group of disciples who had been with Jesus throughout his ministry. Unfortunately, discussion over who John is can overshadow Bauckham’s more important point, that this gospel is eyewitness testimony.

The book concludes with Bauckham recapitulating his argument for the gospels as testimony. While such testimony must be weighed, he argues for a presumption of trust rather than suspicion. Bauckham adds several chapters to the second edition at this point. These address criticisms of the earlier edition, particularly concerning eyewitnesses in Mark and the identity of John. Provocatively, he concludes that if his case for the gospels as testimony holds up, this means the end of form criticism.

It is striking to me to encounter scholarly confirmation of conclusions that arose inductively from student Bible studies in my college days. While we didn’t have the tables or patristic evidence marshalled by Bauckham, we took seriously Luke’s testimony of how he wrote his work. We saw Mark’s focus on Peter. We accepted John’s claim to be offering eyewitness testimony and noted the details unique to his account that suggested an eyewitness presence. It has always been baffling to me to see the skepticism of many scholars toward these accounts. Bauckham makes a strong case that my early reading of the gospels was not off the mark. More than that, it suggests we can approach these accounts with a high degree of confidence that they render accounts of Jesus that may be trusted.

I’m sure that some will continue to quarrel over the question of Johannine authorship. While I incline to the traditional view of John the Apostle, Bauckham’s contention doesn’t trouble me. Either are equally eyewitnesses. We don’t know the authorship of Hebrews and affirm it as scripture. I do suspect that form critics and the questers for the historical Jesus have a problem with Bauckham. I would suggest the real problem is the contention that the gospels are not what they present themselves to be but rather are anonymous community traditions. Wouldn’t it be surprising if what most Christians through history believed the gospels to be and the best gospel scholarship were agreed? Bauckham gives us hope that might be possible. show less

A key misconception needs to be put aside before a reader can maximise benefit from an encounter with Bauckham's theological journey through the Book of Revelation. That is that there is going to be some sort of superficial and sensational exposé of the chronology of end-times: a person knowing Bauckham's writings or indeed the editorial prudence of James D.G. Dunn (series editor) would know this is not Hal Lindsey (who, like the clichéd elephant, is finally removed from the room, along show more with Rudolf Bultmann, in the closing pages). Nevertheless, apocalyptic in general and Revelation in particular seems to manage to manouvre many otherwise quite functional brains into stultified neutral: a mistake not to be made when engaging with Bauckham.

Bauckham, in my experience, is never a light read. It is no coincidence that he wrote a fine but absolutely saturant (to coin, perhaps, a word) analysis of Moltmann. He shares Moltmann's density of sentence structure (insofar as one can tell reading Moltmann's main works in translation), and shares too Moltmann's deeply profound prioritising of eschatology. In 164 complex pages Bauckham takes us deeply into the literary and theological brilliance of John of Patmos. To do that in the twentieth century (for this was published in 1993) is to engage with huge questions of divine purpose, of holiness and justice and eschatological hope, of incarnational theology and soteriology, of sin and redemption: this was never going to be a light read.

Bauckham holds these demands together magnificently. He begins, wisely, with the reminder from John's opening sentences, that Revelation is a) revelation/apocalypse, b) prophesy, and c) a (circular) letter. These factors define any attempt to understand the vision of the book. Beyond this it is also important to understand John's integrity as a literary and theological craftsman: 'We should certainly not doubt that John had remarkable visionary experiences, but he has transmuted them through what must have been a lengthy process of reflection and writing into a thoroughly literary creation which is designed not to reproduce the experience so much as to communicate the meaning of the revelation that had been given to him' (3-4). John was not Nostradamus (and well we might thank God for that!).

John creates a narrative reality utterly alternative to that being experienced by his suffering audiences (in a recent sermon I drew parallels between apocalyptic methodology and Roberto Benigni's 1997 film Life is Beautiful : go figure!). He draws on the deep pools of apocalyptic symbolism available to him and to his readers (listeners) to inspire them to hope in the face of tumultuous darkness and suffering. Bauckham's brilliance is in demonstrating the manner in which John weaves together ancient narrative symbols and events and experiences contemporary to his writing - weaves them together so well that they have continued to speak to readers of his work for two millennia: John's images 'cannot be read either as literal descriptions or as encoded literal descriptions, but must be read for their theological meaning and their power to evoke response' (20). The visionary's prophesy is timeless because it is Biblical prophesy which 'always both addressed the prophet’s contemporaries about their own present and the future immediately impending for them and raised hopes which proved able to transcend their immediate relevance to the prophet’s contemporaries and to continue to direct later readers to God’s purpose for their future' (152).

Bauckham emphasizes that John's apocalyptic vision is always deeply grounded in the resurrection of Christ: 'All that is opposed to God’s rule, we are to understand, has been defeated by the Lamb' (74). Fundamental to Revelation’s whole understanding of the way in which Christ establishes God’s kingdom on earth is the conviction that in his death and resurrection Christ has already won his decisive victory over evil' (73). Revelation's eschatological hope is also inseparably grounded in God's authority as Creator: 'The eschatological hope of Revelation actually has its basis, not only in the understanding of God as Creator, but also in the belief in the Creator’s faithfulness to his creation' (51).

Bauckham's analysis is profound and powerful. His writing style, however, is sometimes all but impenetrable. A sentence will sometime lose clarity as a pronoun or other variable loses its referent or as he creates a sort of subjunctive voice: 'God’s kingdom is to come not simply by saving an elect people who acknowledge his rule from a rebellious world over which his kingdom prevails merely by extinguishing the rebels. It is to come as the sacrificial witness of the elect people who already acknowledge God’s rule brings the rebellious nations also to acknowledge his rule' (84). In this dense sentence it is hard to realize that 'the sacrificial witness of the elect people who already acknowledge God’s rule brings' is simply a noun - a nominal phrase - defining the meaning of the whole sentence. This stylistic quirk makes the Baukham's work harder to understand than it needs to be.

That aside, though, it is a masterful analysis of a complex topic. He summarizes John's vision eloquently: 'Because God’s will is the moral truth of our own being as his creatures, we shall find our fulfilment only when, through our own free obedience, his will becomes the spontaneous desire of our hearts' (142). That fusion of human and divine wills dwells in a radically other Creation, that which is yet to come, but to which present Creation is being led through tumult and even despair. Baukham magnificently captures and interprets the eschatological vision of John for a people called to proclaim hope, justice and Christ-compassion in yet another century and millennia. show less