But they took a totally wrong approach—and failed totally
Whenever an event or episode is reported in only one gospel, we have every right to be suspicious. How did the other gospel authors fail to notice, neglect to report, something that Jesus supposedly did or said? Or something that happened as a consequence of a Jesus-event? The author of Matthew’s gospel states that, when Jesus died on the cross—and this is found only in Matthew:
“The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many.” Matthew 27:52-53
How does the resurrection of a physical human body—in any way—prove the existence of eternal life? A very obvious question has to be: What happened to these resurrected saints after their wandering about Jerusalem on that first Easter morning? Did they make it back to their tombs and return to being dead? If this was the case, the temporary resurrection of their physical bodies fails to confirm eternal life.
Or are these saints still wandering about—somewhere on earth—to this very day? That would be a poor version indeed of eternal life.
We can suspect that the authors of both Luke and John considered Matthew’s story to be silly and irrelevant. Mark’s gospel was written before Matthew, so he probably never imagined that these resurrected saints did what Matthew reported. So, we can consider Matthew 27:52-53 as goofy theology, not worthy of serious consideration.
But the major brick wall we hit when trying to enable belief in eternal life is the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead; this one is found only in John’s gospel, 11:17-44. Remember that the author of John’s gospel—who he was nobody knows—indulged in theology inflation. He invented the massive monologues of Jesus-script that are found nowhere else. It is commonly acknowledged by scholars that John was the last gospel written, many decades after the death of Jesus. So it’s a major stretch to argue that these words—unknown to the other gospel authors—somehow derive from Jesus.
And the story of the raising of Lazarus is likewise an example of theology inflation. It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that John’s author thought of this as a stunt performed by his version of Jesus. When Jesus received word that Lazarus was very ill, he said,
“‘This illness does not lead to death; rather, it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’ Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.” (John 11:4-6)
John’s Jesus seems to have carefully planned his upcoming stunt. Jesus breaks the news to his disciples, who assumed that Lazarus was in a deep sleep: “Then Jesus told them plainly, ‘Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.’” (John 11:14-15) When Jesus arrived in the area of the tomb, he was greeted first by Martha, and he assured her:
“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” (John 11:25-26) In other words, the whole reason for this stunt is to be able to make this pronouncement. John, master of theology inflation, has structured the story with this at its center.
Martha warns Jesus that, since Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days, there will be a stench. Nevertheless, Jesus orders the stone to be removed from the tomb, and pronounces a magic spell: “Lazarus, come out!” “The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go.’” A few days later, Jesus and Lazarus had dinner together—and we’re also told that the religious authorities wanted to kill Lazarus, “…since it was on account of him that many of the Jews were deserting and were believing in Jesus.” (John 12:11) So there it is: the stunt worked!
But we are never told about Lazarus’ ultimate fate. Did he die again a few weeks, months, or years later? After Jesus himself was resurrected, did they hang out together—maybe along with all of those dead saints who had come alive in their tombs, to wander around Jerusalem on the first Easter morning. We read in Acts 1 that Jesus ascended to heaven after forty days, but there is no hint that Lazarus and all those resurrected saints went with him. Neither John, nor Matthew, seems to have considered the awkward implications of their fantasy stories. Jesus ascending to heaven, by the way, is naïve fantasy, based on the totally incorrect Bible view of the how the cosmos is structured: here we are on earth, and a few miles above the clouds and below the moon is the realm of the gods—so easily reached by holy heroes, who would, in reality, be killed by the cold, lack of oxygen, and radiation.
When I attended Boston University School of Theology in the mid-to-late 1960s, I wrote an essay on John 11. I came across it recently in my files. I provided a detailed analysis of the story, but I also was aware of the problems it posed for Christian theology:
“The problem, quite frankly, is this: How can one who does not believe in ‘everlasting life’ get much out of John 11, which is devoted so predominantly to this theme? This essentially is my predicament, for I cannot bring myself to affirm belief in an afterlife. I am not dogmatically against it, and I am open to any arguments or evidence which will convince me.”
I then quoted a faculty member who had recently confessed that “he wouldn’t mind pie-in-the-sky-by-and-by—but he just doesn’t believe it.”
I then went on to elaborate:
“Even understanding pie-in-the-sky in some high or sophisticated sense as eternal ultimate union or never ending at-one-ness with God, I too just don’t believe it. All the arguments which I have heard supporting belief in eternal life have left me unconvinced; the questions surrounding it are far too weighty: When on the evolutionary journey did man receive a soul capable of eternal existence? Who of mankind get it? Only Christians? Only some Christians? All of mankind—even those to whom such a concept is foreign? At what age does one become entitled? Do infants, being not yet conscious of self, qualify? Is one conscious in immortality? If not, what difference does it make? If so what does one do for the next few million years? Since I know I wasn’t pre-existent, why is it necessary to believe that I will be post-existent? I resent being told piously that these are ‘questions that cannot be asked.’ This seems to be a sloppy way of disposing of some knotty questions; enough of these unaskable-unanswerable questions would seem to constitute reason and basis for skepticism. The Hebrews seemed to get along without a concept of immortality, and consequently their scriptures which speak of ‘dust to dust’ (Genesis 3:19) and of ‘all flesh is grass’ (Isaiah 40:6-8) appeal to me: they are very much in tune to what I am impelled to believe.”
The professor who graded my essay gave it an A. Which, as I look back on it, is startling indeed, since I didn’t believe in one of the fundamental tenants of Christian faith. This was while I was still working on my first degree in theology, after which I spent several years working on my PhD in Biblical Studies. I have often said that by the time I’d finished the PhD work, I had become an atheist—thanks to major flaws in theology that seminary brought to my attention. I gave up my ordination, resigned from my position as minister (I’d served as pastor of two Methodist parishes), and eventually—and with much stress and anguish—managed to switch to a successful secular business career.
But I have so often wondered over the years: how can the devout fail to notice the absurdities, the banalities, of so much that we find in the Bible?
David Madison was a pastor in the Methodist Church for nine years, and has a PhD in Biblical Studies from Boston University. He is the author of Ten Tough Problems in Christian Thought and Belief: a Minister-Turned-Atheist Shows Why You Should Ditch the Faith, now being reissued in several volumes:
• Guessing About God (2023)
• Ten Things Christians Wish Jesus Hadn’t Taught: And Other Reasons to Question His Words (2021). The Spanish translation of this book is also available.
His YouTube channel is here. At the invitation of John Loftus, he has written for the Debunking Christianity Blog since 2016.
The Cure-for-Christianity Library©, now with more than 500 titles, is here. A brief video explanation of the Library is here
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