Transcription
Unpopular opinion time. I'm not a fan of the minimal facts argument for the resurrection. I don't think that it works, and it might even do more harm than good.
Now, I get it. This is a rather spicy take. There are people out there who subscribe to my channel that I'm sure absolutely love the minimal facts argument, and at this point, they might want to click away, give me a thumbs down, or tell me in the comments that I've jumped the shark. But before you do that, put down your torch and pitchforks for just a moment and hear me out.
Because I used to really love this argument too. When I first got into apologetics, I came across Gary Habermas' popular talk, "The Resurrection Argument That Changed the Generation of Scholars," and I was blown away. I bought Habermas and Licona's popular-level book and committed the argument to memory. Later, I devoured Licona's longer, much more academic treatment, and I binged-watched tons of debates that involved Habermas, Licona, and others on this topic.
Also, after learning this argument, I eagerly shared the minimal facts whenever the opportunity came up. I often found that it didn't get me very far with my skeptical friends, and I'd just end up frustrated. At first, I figured that it was just their own stubborn skepticism and not the argument itself. But now, I can actually empathize some with their skepticism.
Let's back up and explain what the argument is. Habermas and Licona say the minimal facts approach considers only those data that are so strongly attested historically that they are granted by nearly every scholar who studies the subject, even the rather skeptical ones. This must be a high majority, something like 90-plus.
So, what do these facts include? Well, number one: Jesus died by crucifixion. Number two: Shortly afterward, the disciples experienced what they believed to be the resurrected Jesus. Number three: After a few years, Paul also believed he experienced the resurrected Jesus.
Why do scholars agree to these facts? Well, in 1 Corinthians 15, Paul passes on a creed that he probably received from the Jerusalem church. It reads: "For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve." In the next verses, Paul also mentions appearances to himself, James, and 500 unnamed people. Scholars say that this creed dates back one to three years after the crucifixion. This is a debatable point, but it doesn't really matter that much to what I'm talking about here.
From this data, Habermas concludes Jesus' disciples had experiences they believed were appearances of the resurrected Jesus. And the famous skeptical New Testament scholar Bart Ehrman concurs, saying, "We can say with complete certainty that some of his disciples at some later time insisted that he soon appeared to them, convincing them that he had been raised from the dead." Wow. So if even Ehrman is on board, that must mean that this is some amazing historical data, right?
Well, yes, but also no. It's amazing in the sense that the creed tells us what the disciples believed from the very start. Resurrection belief isn't based on a late-developing legend. And James' conversion is fascinating. Consider that he was Jesus' sibling. It would probably take a lot to convince your brother that you're the Messiah. So, I'm not saying that the creed has no evidential value whatsoever.
But there is one big problem. What does the creed tell us about the nature of the appearances? Well, not very much. The Gospels give us a walking, talking Jesus who eats with people and invites them to touch him, especially in Luke and John. The majority of scholars do not acknowledge these kinds of appearances; rather, they explicitly deny them and label these stories as late embellishments.
So, yes, it's sort of true that these academics that are counted in Habermas' survey may acknowledge resurrection appearances. But 90-plus don't acknowledge that they were physical in nature, like we see in the Gospels. We need to be real careful not to equivocate here.
So, for example, in Mike Licona's big book on the resurrection, he writes, "Historians may conclude that subsequent to Jesus' execution, a number of his followers had experiences in individual and group settings that convinced them that Jesus had risen from the dead and had appeared to them in some manner." Now, notice how carefully that's worded: "in some manner."
As philosopher Lydia McGrew points out, we could say that the minimal facts are compatible with experiences that could be extremely limited in nature. So, for example, a floating Jesus who appears, says nothing, then disappears, is completely compatible with minimal facts. A Jesus who suddenly appears, then says, "All is well," and just sits there for two minutes and then disappears is compatible with the minimal facts.
Vague, fleeting appearances really aren't all that evidentially compelling. And a floating Jesus would not make us think that Jesus rose from the dead; rather, that they saw some kind of apparition. And that is the Achilles' heel of the minimal facts argument. It is very difficult to evaluate the rationality of the disciples' beliefs when we aren't able to describe in detail their experiences. Get that point. There is a lot that we would like to know that this simple creed just doesn't give us.
Let's use an illustration. Say you're outside talking to your neighbor. Maybe you mentioned that you just got back from a funeral. A distant relative had recently passed away, and somehow the subject moves on to life after death. Your neighbor then tells you that they had one of their dead relatives actually appear to them. They proceed to tell you that, at the risk of sounding completely crazy, they believe that their relative was raised from the dead. But suddenly, they're interrupted by their kids needing some help, and the conversation comes to an abrupt end. You never get the details. Your neighbor ends up moving away soon afterward, and you just never get closure on the conversation.
Did this dead relative really speak to them? What did they see? What did they hear? Did they physically get to touch them? You'd never get to find out, would you? Would you conclude that they were justified in thinking their relative was resurrected from the dead? No. You'd either conclude that maybe they had a grief hallucination, maybe something else was wrong with them, maybe you would conclude that the world is a weirder place than you imagined and maybe they saw something paranormal like a ghost, or you might just throw your hands up in the air and say, "I don't really know what happened there."
Now, you might be saying, "Well, yeah, but Paul mentions group appearances to the Twelve and to 500." Well, sure, but most scholars don't grant group appearances in the sense that the average Christian apologist on the street might think. It can easily suggest a combination of suggestion and pareidolia. Pareidolia is a phenomenon in which a person sees something unusual and points it out to others. Then, other people, upon knowing what to look for, will consciously or unconsciously convince themselves to notice the apparition and will, in turn, point it out to others. There are plenty of things that we know that are like this involving large groups of people, like some reports of Marian apparitions.
Now, don't get me wrong. I think this is an absolute terrible explanation for the resurrection hypothesis. But can we effectively get around that simply by using the minimal facts? Well, no, not really. This is what I'd run into all the time in discussions with skeptics. The minimal facts don't really move the needle all that much. At best, they might have you conclude that something weird happened. And I'd argue that we can't really use them in a way that would give enough weight for a skeptic to change their mind, conclude that a miracle actually happened, and commit their life to Christ.
We are going to need the "touch me and see" risen Jesus that we find in the Gospels in order to do that. But the minimal facts apologist has already conceded, for the sake of argument, that the Gospels don't need to be reliable in order to make their case. And I have to say, this gives a false impression to both believers, in my experience, and non-believers, that they're dubious sources, and that's extremely problematic.
What we're going to have to do is just man up and defend the Gospels and Acts right from the outset. I don't really care if that goes against the grain of the consensus of scholars because, as it turns out, scholarly consensus is not the best way to discover so-called historical bedrock.
In short, I'm afraid that the minimal facts argument seems to conflate sociology with epistemology, and that will be the topic of my next video as I continue this series, Lord willing. By the end of this series, I hope to show you what I believe is a better way to argue for the resurrection. Going forward, this topic is just way too important to get wrong.