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THE QUEST FOR THE HISTORICAL PAUL (Part 4: Paul and the Schools)

(Intro)

One popular debate right now is the historicism/mythicism debate in New Testament studies – the historicity of Jesus or whether he was originally believed to exist on earth or in the heavens. When Livesey picks up this angle, she does not mean Paul was originally thought of as a celestial mythical figure who was historicized in writing, but that Paul was a literary invention in Acts that letters were then based on.

A literal historical figure is beside the point. Whether or not there was a literal prisoner in a cave or a literal impaled just man is irrelevant to the argument Plato is making in the Republic. Philosophy is unrelated to personalities, and Being and Time would be just as important a book if someone other than Heidegger wrote it. Hugo Mendez argues for the literary invention of the Beloved Disciple as a foundation for the book of John and Johannine epistles. The reason is the Beloved Disciple knew what Jesus really meant and so the synoptics should be viewed through that lens (“Mark says this, but what Jesus really meant …”)

Jesus as a literary retrojection post 130’s is exemplary of an apocalyptic messianic claimant around the first century and what would have tragically happened to him, as with all such claimants, even if Jesus was God’s most beloved (agapetos) messanger (angelos). Such a people turning on Jesus would thus explain God’s wrath on the Jews with the destruction of the temple (70 CE) and the horror of Bar Kokhba in the 130’s CE. Paul is thus also an idealized figure who was to come who continued Jesus’ mission to the Jews with a mission to the pagans as the one prophesied in scripture to bring the message of God to the pagans before the coming of the end.

Star Trek is instructive about the second coming of Kahless the Klingon Messiah. Scientists got tired of waiting for his return after many centuries so grew a Kahless clone from a sample of his DNA. The episode argued that the message is more important than the man, and so for example if Jesus does not return we still have his innovation from the Judaism of his time of love of God shown by caring for widow, orphan, stranger, and enemy as more important than self.

Just as the central story of the Christian religion is the cross crafted out of Psalms and Isaiah in Mark, Matthew adds the Wisdom of Solomon and Paul adds Deuteronomy (cursed hung on a tree).  Likewise, the writer of Acts has crafted a conversion story for Paul out of Jewish and Greek sources. Price comments that:

Paul’s Conversion (9:1-21)

As the great Tübingen critics already saw, the story of Paul’s visionary encounter with the risen Jesus not only has no real basis in the Pauline epistles but has been derived by Luke more or less directly from 2 Maccabees 3’s story of Heliodorus. In it one Benjaminite named Simon (3:4) tells Apollonius of Tarsus, governor of Coele-Syria and Phoenicia (3:5), that the Jerusalem Temple houses unimaginable wealth that the Seleucid king might want to appropriate for himself. Once the king learns of this, he sends his agent Heliodorus to confiscate the loot. The prospect of such a violation of the Temple causes universal wailing and praying among the Jews. But Heliodorus is miraculously turned back when a shining warrior angel appears on horseback. The stallion’s hooves knock Heliodorus to the ground, where two more angels lash him with whips (25-26). He is blinded and is unable to help himself, carried to safety on a stretcher. Pious Jews pray for his recovery, lest the people be held responsible for his condition. The angels reappear to Heliodorus, in answer to these prayers, and they announce God’s grace to him: Heliodorus will live and must henceforth proclaim the majesty of the true God. Heliodorus offers sacrifice to his Saviour (3:35) and departs again for Syria, where he reports all this to the king. In Acts the plunder of the Temple has become the persecution of the church by Saul (also called Paulus, an abbreviated form of Apollonius), a Benjaminite from Tarsus. Heliodorus’ appointed journey to Jerusalem from Syria has become Saul’s journey from Jerusalem to Syria. Saul is stopped in his tracks by a heavenly visitant, goes blind and must be taken into the city, where the prayers of his former enemies avail to raise him up. Just as Heliodorus offers sacrifice, Saul undergoes baptism. Then he is told henceforth to proclaim the risen Christ, which he does. Luke has again added details from Euripides. In The Bacchae, in a sequence Luke has elsewhere rewritten into the story of Paul in Philippi (Portefaix, pp. 170), Dionysus has appeared in Thebes as an apparently mortal missionary for his own sect. He runs afoul of his cousin, King Pentheus who wants the licentious cult (as he views it) to be driven out of the country. He arrests and threatens Dionysus, only to find him freed from prison by an earthquake. Dionysus determines revenge against the proud and foolish king by magically compelling Pentheus to undergo conversion to faith in him (“Though hostile formerly, he now declares a truce and goes with us. You see what you could not when you were blind,” 922-924) and sending Pentheus, in woman’s guise, to spy upon the Maenads, his female revelers. He does so, is discovered, and is torn limb from limb by the women, led by his own mother. As the hapless Pentheus leaves, unwittingly, to meet his doom, Dionysus comments, “Punish this man. But first distract his wits; bewilder him with madness… After those threats with which he was so fierce, I want him made the laughingstock of Thebes” (850-851, 854-855). “He shall come to know Dionysus, son of Zeus, consummate god, most terrible, and yet most gentle, to mankind” (859-861). Pentheus must be made an example, as must poor Saul, despite himself. His conversion is a punishment, meting out to the persecutor his own medicine. Do we not detect a hint of ironic malice in Christ’s words to Ananias about Saul? “I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:16).

We see similar mythmaking in Saul changing his name to Paul.  In Acts 13:6–12, Sergius Paulus, a Roman proconsul in Cyprus whose name Saul adopts, is depicted as a Gentile who is converted after witnessing a miracle performed by Paul (blinding the sorcerer Elymas Bar-Jesus). This story positions Sergius Paulus as a symbolic figure: a prominent pagan who embraces the Christian message, marking a key moment in the spread of the gospel to Gentiles. If Paul, as a character, is crafted with Sergius Paulus as inspiration, he could symbolically embody the mission to the pagans in several ways:

Paul in Acts is portrayed as the “apostle to the Gentiles” (Acts 9:15, Romans 11:13), spearheading the expansion of Christianity beyond Jewish communities. The Sergius Paulus episode is a pivotal moment, as it’s one of the first explicit conversions of a high-ranking Gentile in Acts, setting the stage for Paul’s broader mission. A fictional Paul could be a literary device to personify this Gentile-focused mission, with Sergius Paulus as a prototype for receptive pagans.

The shift from Saul to Paul in Acts 13:9, right around the Sergius Paulus encounter, could be symbolic. “Paulus” is a Roman cognomen, and adopting it might reflect a deliberate narrative choice to align the character with the Gentile world, especially if modeled after a Roman official like Sergius Paulus. This name change could signify the mission’s pivot to the Greco-Roman world.

Some scholars, like those exploring Marcionite or gnostic influences (e.g., Roger Parvus or Markus Vinzent, as discussed previously), suggest that Pauline traditions might have been shaped to emphasize a break from Judaism, appealing to pagan audiences. A fictional Paul, tied to a figure like Sergius Paulus, could reflect this agenda, representing a Christianity tailored to Greco-Roman sensibilities.

If Paul were a fictional character inspired by Sergius Paulus, he could indeed represent the mission to the pagans, embodying the theological and narrative shift toward Gentile inclusion in early Christianity. The Sergius Paulus story in Acts 13 supports this symbolically, as does Paul’s broader portrayal. 

As I said, Sergius Paulus is described as a proconsul of Cyprus, residing in Paphos, and is characterized as an intelligent man. When the apostle Paul (then called Saul) and Barnabas arrived in Cyprus during their first missionary journey, they encountered Sergius Paulus, who summoned them to hear the word of God. However, a sorcerer named Bar-Jesus (also called Elymas) opposed them, attempting to turn the proconsul away from the faith: a Bar-Jesus’ telling a Pagan not to convert from paganism to the Jewish-origin Christianity faith. Paul, filled with the Holy Spirit, rebuked Bar-Jesus, causing him to be temporarily blinded. Witnessing this miracle, Sergius Paulus believed in the Lord, astonished by the teaching and the power of God.

Historically, Sergius Paulus is considered a significant figure as an early Roman official who converted to Christianity, though exact details about his identity are debated. He may be linked to a Roman senator named Lucius Sergius Paulus, known from inscriptions, but this is not definitively proven. His conversion marks a pivotal moment in Acts, illustrating the spread of Christianity among Gentiles and the power of God over opposition, and so Saul adopts his name. This literary creation of Paul in Acts is what is going to make the letters written in his name possible for Livesey.

The reference to Bar-Jesus seems to reflect the wink at the reader that Jesus focused his mission primarily on the Jewish people, as suggested by the earliest Gospel accounts and the cultural context of first-century Judea. In the Gospel of Matthew (15:24), Jesus is quoted saying, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” indicating a targeted mission to Jews. His teachings, rooted in Jewish law and prophecy, addressed Jewish audiences, and his activities centered in Galilee and Judea, regions predominantly Jewish. Paul’s mission to the gentiles thus evolves beyond this “Bar-Jesus.”

Mythmaking and the Central Elements of Early Christianity

The crucifixion story seems fictional because of us being told what Jesus said from the cross, but also what Jesus and the high priest said to each other, and what Jesus and the crowd said to each other (who would have been around to record these conversations?).

Paul’s offers one narrative detail of the crucifixion:  Jeus died for our sins according to the scripture and was buried and was raised on the third day according to the scriptures.  It is unclear whether Paul’s point is that Jesus’ death was in agreement with scripture, or created out of scripture (like Matthew portraying Jesus as the New Moses), but the allusions are well known. Here is a helpful summary from The Jewish Annotated New Testament (2^nd Edition):

  Crucifixion Scripture Fulfillments

Mark highlights a number of crucifixion events in such a way as to fulfill passages from Psalms and Isaiah:

Mark

14.1 kill by stealth Ps 10.7– 8

14.10– 11 betray him Isa 53.6,12

14.18 the one eating with me Ps 41.9

14.24 blood poured out for many Isa 53.12

14.57 false testimony Ps 27.12; 35.11

14.61; 15.5 silence before accusers Ps 38.13– 14? Isa 53.7?

14.65 spit, slap Isa 50.6

15.5,39 amazement of nations and kings Isa 52.15

15.6– 15 criminal saved, righteous killed Isa 53.6,12

15.24 divided his clothes Ps 22.18

15.29 derided him and shook their Ps 22.7; 109.25

15.30– 31 save yourself! Ps 22.8

15.32 taunted him Ps 22.6

15.34 why have you forsaken me? Ps 22.1

15.36 gave him sour wine to drink Ps 69.21

These connections call into question whether the events Mark depicts actually occurred or whether they were introduced into the narrative to establish that Jesus died in “accordance with the scriptures” (1 Cor 15.3– 4). Whether actual incidents are here interpreted through a scriptural lens or whether Mark created the narrative from a series of prophetic texts, or a combination of both, remains debated.

(Amy-Jill Levine; Marc Zvi Brettler. The Jewish Annotated New Testament (p. 99). Oxford University Press. Kindle Edition).

Acts allegorize this creative writing via Paul as starting with the Old Testament, and writing about Jesus through that lens.  As it says in Acts, they would read from the Torah, then from the former prophets (Joshua through Kings), and finally from the latter prohets (Isaiah through Malachi). At that point the synagogue leader would ask if anyone would like to bring any message or experience that might illumine the readings. So, followers of Jesus may have then recalled their memories of him which that Sabbath elicited. This is what Paul does in Acts (13:16b-41).  Likewise, the writers of the Dead Sea Scrolls came up with a biography for their Teacher of Righteousness by mining and repurposing the Old Testament.

We sometimes think Paul’s letter influenced Mark, but if we date the New Testament into the second century it could be here Paul is summarizing Mark in 1 Corinthians 15:3-4, and he seems to do it again with the trial of Jesus, as we will see below.

Some scholars try to rescue the historicity of the account of Jesus’s trial with the Jews in a manner that seems highly dubious. For instance, from John Hamilton we read:

However, the Synoptic chronology is not impossible, for as [Josef] Blinzler says, the prohibition of legal proceedings on feast days was less strictly enforced than that of holding courts on the Sabbath, ‘therefore it is quite thinkable that it did not seem to the Sanhedrists an infringement of an important rule to start a legal trial even on the night of the Pesach’. It is the argument of this article that all the Gospels witness to such a trial which, while viable in its date, contravened accepted practice as subsequently enshrined in the Mishnah at many points, as Blinzler shows. For example, the proceedings took place in the house of Caiaphas, not in the Temple, and though Jesus had not actually pronounced the Name of God, he was condemned as a blasphemer. He was not offered an advocate; the witnesses were not warned before being examined; nor were they called to account for false witness. The members of the Sanhedrin, although witnesses of the alleged blasphemy, took part in the passing of the sentence, though it was not legal for them to do so. As Blinzler says, one is not able ‘to spare the Sanhedrin the reproach of very serious infringement of the law’. The question is, why did they do this?‘ It will not do to suggest that the occasion was a sham—the proceedings were undoubtedly carried through before a competent bench of judges’. Nor can their contraventions of the Mishnaic code be simply dismissed by saying that it was not yet in force. It is true that it was not codified until about 200 AD, and reflects conditions which obtained then, but it certainly enshrines earlier practice to a considerable extent. For example, Segal says that in describing Temple ritual, it may be employed with confidence. May not the same apply to legal practice?… Before the Feast of the Passover Caiaphas is reported to have said in council: ‘It is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish’ (Jn. 11:50). Expediency was the factor which determined his conduct. When the opportunity unexpectedly presented itself to secure Jesus’ death, he and the priests avidly took it. Spurred on by their hatred of him; persuaded that as he was a false teacher, his execution on a feast day would be appropriate; and pressurized by shortage of time, they held his trial on the paschal night. In this trial they contravened normal legal practice at many points. The fact that they could do this in the legal sphere makes it likely that they could, because of the exceptional circumstances, also contravene ritual practice. For the exigencies of the case demanded that they work through the night. Early next morning therefore, they still had not eaten their paschal meal [emphasis mine]. (Hamilton, 1992, pp. 335-336)

We can certainly explain away the apparent impropriety with “maybe if we look at it this way” and “maybe that,” if we assume that the narrative is historical. But it seems just as likely that the writers were emphasizing and augmenting the wrongs being done to Jesus, who they felt he was wrongly executed – to make a point about the world turning on God’s specially beloved agapetos. Is the most parsimonious explanation really that in the case of a multitude of apparent illegalities, there are a multitude of loopholes that happened historically? Or are the gospel writers making the point that the crafty (1 Cor 3:19-29) Jewish leaders were manipulating God’s words while they knew that they were going against His will in getting Jesus killed (e.g., John 18:31), and so they tricked the Romans into executing Jesus akin to how Darius’ officials conspired against Daniel by tricking King Darius into throwing Daniel into the lion’s den in Daniel 6? Is the true meaning of blasphemy cursing God, or rather is it knowingly twisting God’s words to serve one’s own agenda? The Jewish trial of Jesus in the Gospels is expressed by Paul’s thoughts about the world versus the Christian approach that “We have renounced the shameful, underhanded ways; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word…” (2 Corinthians 4:2).

Hamilton seems to be hanging a lot of his argument on John 11:50 when, as Hugo Méndez argues, John presents himself as a lens through which to view the synoptics even if the coloring changes the original meaning and intent of Mark, Matthew, and Luke. The simpler reason seems to be that John saw something that he wanted to fix in the traditional narrative and so altered it. Once again, just as the extensive use of Jewish (e.g., Jesus as the New and greater Moses) and Greco-Roman (Jesus as the new and greater Dionysus) typology was noted, so too we have with Jesus’ “trial” a fiction made out of a sophisticated understanding and manipulation of Jewish law and tradition to create satire that screams at an elite educated writer, not the oral traditions of an illiterate community.

Certainly therefore, an execution would have been contrary to the sabbatical nature of the first paschal day. However, Deut. 17: 12-13 prescribes the death penalty for anyone who opposes the decisions of the priests, to be carried out so that ‘all the people shall hear and fear’, and the Mishnah (Sanhedrin 11:4) gives special instructions for the execution of a rebellious teacher: ‘He was kept in guard until one of the three feasts, and he was put to death on one of the three feasts’. This shows that in certain circumstances executions were permitted on feast days. Moreover, [Paul] Billerbeck says that where an example is required ‘to protect the Torah from wilfully severe transgressions, an execution may, as an exception, supersede a feast day’. (Hamilton, 1992, p. 335)

Again, this seems to make perfect literary sense. Just as Mark’s narrative of the crucifixion is haggadic midrash recapitulating Isaiah 53 and Psalm 22, perhaps with the trial Deuteronomy 17:12-13 is the literary origin of the story. Just as we have a very sophisticated use of the Hebrew scriptures using haggadic midrash, so too we see a sophisticated use of the Jewish tradition with the crafting of the satirical trial of Jesus about the corrupt Jewish leaders.  Analogously, Jesus’ temple tantrum story is absurd as the temple was huge and had guards to prevent just such a disturbance.  The temple incident is just a way of connecting Jesus to the death by Rome as an enemy of the state (King of the Jews) because the Jewish leaders weren’t allowed to kill him.

Again, like Paul seeming to summarize Mark’s use of scriptural allusions to craft the crucifixion, he summarizes Mark’s trial of the Jewish experts manipulating the letter of the law to their own ends and ignoring God’s intention: the spirit of the law: “through the commandment sin might become sinful beyond measure (Rom 7:13).”  We see then why Paul says in 1 Thessalonians certain Jews killed Jesus (the elite and the bloodthirsty crowd) and Matthew has the Jews say Jesus’ blood is upon them.

The purpose of the law wasn’t just to teach you right from wrong but to open your eyes by making sin sinful beyond measure to circumcise the fleshly from your heart.  God wanted a contrite heart, not animal offerings (psalm 50:8; Hosea 6:6; psalm 51:16; etc).   Paul, who “taught nothing among us but Christ and him crucified,” made a major qualification that should leap out at the reader and said “if Christ is not raised your faith is in vain and you are still in your sin (1 Cor 15:17).”  But how could that be if the cross paid the sin debt in full?  Paul means something else here, which makes sense because nowhere in the Old Testament does it speak of Adam with inherited sin.  Paul obviously means Christ in you/the mind of Christ etc. being welcomed as a holy possession to help you battle Satan’s temptations (“I can do all things through him who strengthens me, Phil 4:13” – Christ being the resistor of Satan par excellence), but then Paul doesn’t have in mind sin as sin-debt paid in full by substitutionary atonement.  Paul probably as a background here have the temptations of Christ by Satan from the gospels.  Price notes “Like Christ, John cannot be tempted. “Now I know that God dwells in you, blessed John! How happy is the man who has not tempted God in you; for the man who tempts you tempts the untemptable” (Acts John, 242). Earlier, Christ himself is called “him that cannot be tempted” (226).  (Price, Robert M.. The Amazing Colossal Apostle: The Search for the Historical Paul (p. 183). Signature Books. Kindle Edition). Paul notes if the dead are not raised, we might as well embrace hedonism because tomorrow we die (1 Cor 15:32).

Moreover, normally, typology as an outgrowth of form criticism suggests we would bracket the historicity of events that have a literary origin.  But this is exactly what Paul does with the crucifixion.  In Galatians 3:13, Paul finds Jesus’ crucifixion in the Old Testament passage in Deuteronomy 21:22-23, stating that Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree”—.  Again, when we try to narrow in on the meaning it shifts and changes.  Does it mean Christ took on our sins as a curse in substitutionary atonement?  But Daniel Street and others note Paul says “curse” not “accursed.”  So, what it could mean is people see the person hung on the tree to be like one cursed.  Clearly, Deuteronomy didn’t mean God cursed someone simply by virtue of them being hung on a tree.  Shauf explains that “there really is no case to be made for it [as a sacrifice]. Sacrificial victims were not cursed.”  If the Pauline letters are post 70 CE, we can think beyond a literal crucifixion to an allegorizing of Psalms, Second Isaiah, and Deuteronomy.  Kloppenborg notes Q doesn’t mention a salvific cross, for instance. 

In ancient Israel, execution was typically by stoning (e.g., for crimes like blasphemy or idolatry). Hanging the body on a pole or tree was a post-mortem act, not the method of execution, meant to publicly shame the offender and deter others (cf. Joshua 8:29, 10:26). The requirement to bury the body by nightfall prevented ritual impurity from defiling the land.  The phrase “under God’s curse” (qelalat Elohim) indicates that the act of hanging the body publicly signifies divine judgment. The curse is tied to the crime that led to execution (a capital offense), not necessarily the act of hanging itself. However, the public display amplifies the perception of divine disapproval, as the body is exposed in a state of dishonor.  Some scholars, like Jeffrey H. Tigay (Deuteronomy, JPS Torah Commentary), argue that the curse reflects how the act of hanging makes the victim appear accursed to onlookers. The public exposure of the body signals that the person has violated God’s covenant, incurring divine judgment. The curse is less about an ontological state (inherent cursedness) and more about the social and ritual significance of the act, which marks the individual as rejected by God in the eyes of the community.

The Babylonian Talmud’s Sanhedrin 43a (220 CE but the reports are earlier traditions) contains a passage that is often interpreted as referring to Jesus of Nazareth, though there is debate among scholars about whether it definitively describes him due to discrepancies in chronology, naming, and context. The passage, which appears in some uncensored manuscripts like the Munich Talmud, states:

On the eve of the Passover, Yeshu was hanged. For forty days before the execution took place, a herald went forth and cried, ‘He is going forth to be stoned because he has practiced sorcery and enticed Israel to apostasy. Anyone who can say anything in his favor, let him come forward and plead on his behalf.’ But since nothing was brought forward in his favor, he was hanged on the eve of the Passover.

In the gospel accounts the first inclination was to stone Jesus on multiple occasions, and his end came around the Passover.  The New Testament describes Jesus’ crucifixion by the Romans, not stoning or hanging by Jewish authorities, and lacks the 40-day herald period.  But the truth may have been the opposite of what we think.  Maybe John the Baptist wasn’t killed for insulting royalty, but rather as per Josephus because the sheer numbers he was gathering threatening the establishment.  Similarly, maybe Jesus was killed, not for claiming to be king of the Jews but hung by the Jewish elite for insulting them.  Jesus thus being hung on a tree (as in Acts 5:30; Acts 10:39; Acts 13:29; Galatians 3:13; 1 Peter 2:24). The New Testament account showed he suffered an analogous death to the arch enemy of the Jews Haman but then characterized for the sake of distinction as the much worse crucifixion.   According to the New Testament, Jesus of Nazareth angered Jewish elites, particularly the Pharisees, Sadducees, and other religious authorities, during his ministry in the early 1st century CE. The Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) depict Jesus’ actions and teachings as frequently provoking tension with these groups, leading to conflicts that contributed to his eventual arrest and crucifixion under Roman authority

And, the “cross” serves a highly rhetorical/figurative function in the New Testament:

“Crucified with Christ”

Galatians 2:20 – “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Paul uses this to describe a believer’s identification with Christ’s death, signifying the end of the old self-centered life and the beginning of a new life empowered by Christ.

“Crucify the Flesh”

Galatians 5:24 – “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” This refers to putting to death sinful desires and the selfish nature, likening it to the decisive act of crucifixion, as a result of belonging to Christ.

“Pick Up Your Cross and Follow Me”

Matthew 16:24 (also Mark 8:34, Luke 9:23) – “Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.’” Jesus calls for self-denial and willingness to endure suffering or sacrifice, using the cross as a symbol of the cost of discipleship and following His example.

“The World Has Been Crucified to Me”

Galatians 6:14 – “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.”  Paul describes a mutual separation—through the cross, worldly values and pursuits are “dead” to him, and he is “dead” to their influence, emphasizing a transformed allegiance.

“Enemies of the Cross”

Philippians 3:18-19 – “For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ.”  Here, the cross represents the sacrificial life Christ modeled. Living in opposition to its values (e.g., indulgence instead of self-denial) makes one an “enemy” of its transformative power.

“Bearing the Cross” Reference:

Luke 14:27 – “And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” Similar to “take up your cross,” this emphasizes enduring hardship or persecution as part of discipleship, with the cross as a metaphor for personal sacrifice.

And cleary, the cross is not a once and for all transaction behind the scenes that pays your sin debt, which is why the cross of Christ can be made of no effect (1 Cor 1:17) and why Christ has to “continually” make intercession for us with the father (Hebrews 7:25).

As I said, contemporary biblical typology theory (e.g., mimesis, haggadic midrash) says we should bracket the historicity of the literary units that allude to prior sources such as when Jesus crucifixion is created out of Psalms, 2nd Isaiah and Deuteronomy.  Isn’t it interesting Paul presents himself as the one predicted in scripture who would bring the message of God to the pagans at the end of the age (e.g., Isaiah 42:6 or 49:6 about a servant bringing light to the nations), in fact making himself typological if Livesey is right and he never existed.  And this would well situate Paul in Acts:  “Nearly all the many characters in Acts 13:6-12– including Paul– are historically unverifiable. The sole exception, Sergius Paulus, known to Galen as prefect or governor of the City of Rome and trained in Aristotelian philosophy, appears to function as Paul’s namesake. (Livesey 133).”

The invented cross may be an occasion to resolve and apparent contradiction between the Gethsemane prayer in Hebrews and the one in Mark.  We read:

7 In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. (Hebrews 5:7)

33 He took with him Peter and James and John and began to be distressed and agitated. 34 And he said to them, “My soul is deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” 35 And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. 36 He said, “Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me, yet not what I want but what you want.”  (Mark 14:33-37)

What we seem to have here at first glance is a massive contradiction, one where the Gethsemane prayer is answered (Hebrews) and one where it isn’t (Mark).  But, if the writer of Hebrews knew Jesus was crucified, the passage can’t mean what it seems to and may in fact be a clue to understanding Mark. 

Eisenbaum notes Hebrews has been notoriously difficult to date whether pre or post temple destruction:

We cannot with confidence determine whether Hebrews was written before or after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 ce. Arguments for a pre-70 date observe that Hebrews nowhere mentions the destruction. Indeed, Hebrews makes no comment about the Temple; rather, it focuses on the wilderness Tabernacle (Ex 25.1– 31.11; 36.1– 40.38).  Because the text claims that the Jewish sacrificial system is replaced by the one-time sacrifice of Jesus, an appeal to the Temple’s destruction would have greatly bolstered its central argument that Levitical sacrifices had become obsolete (chs 8– 10). Conversely, the text may be assuming the reality of the Temple’s destruction and is responding to the catastrophe. Indeed, other Jewish texts produced after the destruction of the Temple sometimes read as if the Temple is still standing, as exemplified in the last two orders of the Mishnah, where we find elaborate instructions about appropriate ways to conduct the Temple sacrifices. (Eisenbaum, Pamela in Amy-Jill Levine; Marc Zvi Brettler. The Jewish Annotated New Testament (p. 460). Oxford University Press. Kindle Edition.

Perhaps Hebrews 5:7 as a summary of a successful Markan Gethsemane prayer actually points to a late date for Hebrews as it seems to be offering a commentary on Mark’s Gethsemane pericope.  One thing that is quite striking is that Jesus seemed to think it was not necessary for him to endure tortuous prolonged crucifixion for God’s plan to be realized.  Let’s briefly talk about prayer in the bible and then return to give an interpretation regarding Hebrews, Mark, and Gethsemane regarding an answered Gethsemane prayer.  Perhaps God answered the prayer, just not the way an apocalyptic Jesus thought God would answer (by sending Elijah)

An important theme in the bible are stories illustrating the consequences of desires or requests that lead to unintended or negative outcomes. Here are a few examples that align with the theme:

Israel’s Demand for a King (1 Samuel 8)

The Israelites demanded a king to rule over them, wanting to be like other nations, despite God’s warning through Samuel that a king would bring oppression, taxes, and loss of freedom. They persisted, and God gave them Saul. Saul’s reign, however, led to turmoil and disobedience, showing the consequences of their shortsighted desire. The lesson here is that their wish for a human king, against God’s guidance, brought trouble they didn’t foresee.

The Israelites and the Quail (Numbers 11:4-34)

The Israelites grumbled about eating only manna in the wilderness, craving meat instead. God granted their desire by sending quail in abundance, but their greed and lack of gratitude led to a plague that struck many of them. Their wish for something other than God’s provision resulted in judgment, highlighting the danger of discontented desires.

Lot’s Choice of Sodom (Genesis 13:10-13)

When Abraham and Lot parted ways, Lot chose the lush, fertile land near Sodom, drawn by its apparent prosperity. This choice led him to live among a wicked people, eventually resulting in his family’s suffering and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. His desire for wealth and comfort brought unforeseen consequences.

Hezekiah’s Request for a Longer Life (2 Kings 20:1-11; Isaiah 38)

King Hezekiah was told by Isaiah that he would die, but he prayed for more years, and God granted him 15 additional years. During this time, however, Hezekiah made poor decisions, like showing Babylonian envoys his treasures, which later led to Judah’s downfall. His wish for extended life brought mixed results, including unintended consequences for his legacy.

These stories suggest a biblical principle: desires or requests, when not aligned with wisdom or God’s will, can lead to outcomes that are harmful or regrettable. The underlying message is to seek discernment and trust divine guidance rather than pursuing fleeting or self-centered wishes.

It is remarkable in Gethsemane Jesus thinks God’s plan can be fulfilled without him knowing the horror of the slow, agonizing cross, so how is the prayer answered?  Crossan and Ehrman note it seems unhistorical Jesus is taken down from the cross early, because the victim being left up there was the whole point to magnify suffering and scare onlookers.  Jesus is heard screaming from the cross for Elijah to come rescue him, Elijah being prophesied to return at the end of the age (Malachi 4:5-6).  But Elijah doesn’t come because the apocalyptic Jesus is wrong and it is not in fact the end of the age. 

2 things counter a prolonged Roman tortuous death for Jesus.  One, Jesus dies unusually quickly surprising Pilate, which seems to be God granting the Gethsemane prayer to alleviate suffering (Mark 14:36).  The quick death of Jesus, like the hurried baking of the unleavened bread (an image Paul uses for Jesus) to escape Egypt is a way Jesus, thanks to God, escaped the prolonged brutality of the cross, and so in this way the Gethsemane prayer was answered.  Two, apparently inspired by the soldier at the cross converting and God revoking Rome’s claim to prolonged torture with a quick, merciful cross, Joseph of Arimathea of the Jewish high council that corruptly convicted Jesus is inspired in Mark and petitions the Romans for the body.   This all would explain why Hebrews thinks the Gethsemane prayer is answered even though Jesus is crucified.  Price notes:

Joseph is surely a combination of King Priam, who courageously comes to Achilles’ camp to beg the body of his son Hector (MacDonald, p. 159) and the Patriarch Joseph who asked Pharaoh’s permission to bury the body of Jacob in the cave-tomb Jacob had hewn for himself back beyond the Jordan (Genesis 50:4-5) (Miller, p. 373). Whence Joseph’s epithet “of Arimathea”? Richard C. Carrier has shown that the apparent place name is wholly a pun (no historical “Arimathea” has ever been identified), meaning “Best (ari[stoV]} Disciple (maqh[thV]) Town.” Thus “the Arimathean” is equivalent to “the Beloved Disciple.” He is, accordingly, an ideal, fictive figure.

It was not just enough that he suffered and then was rescued be Elijah, Jesus needed to fully die to reach even the hardest heart, like with the repentance of Judas having his eyes opened to the fate he consigned his teacher to: death.

As for the resurrection, again we seem to see Paul postdating the gospels because it seems to deny common sense that the gospel writers would not include Paul’s detail of the appearance to the 500 if they knew of it.  Empty tomb apotheosis narratives were common in ancient literature such as the Greek romances that were most popular in the 2^nd Century (Walsh), as were witness claims to the ascension such as the case of Caesar.  But it is unclear here that Paul meant visible appearances because he uses the same word as in Luke 3:6 which means “experience” rather than “see,” and Paul likewise says “God revealed his son in me.”

The logic of the cross is simple, and it’s not substitutionary atonement. We must imagine a world where God sent his especially beloved messenger who was the Word/Law incarnate, and the world responded by conspiring and giving him a death worse than the arch enemy of the Jews Haman. We need to see ourselves in those that wronged Jesus, which crucifies our fleshliness and brings about metanoia – a renewal of mind/repentance. It’ the same form as thinking if you were a Roman at the time you would have enjoyed people being fed to the lions in the arena though you now think it horrific.

Next Time:

THE QUEST FOR THE HISTORICAL PAUL (Part 6/8: The Dog Who Stopped the War)