Did Their Minds Create the Risen Jesus?

Read Paul’s seven undisputed letters slowly, and the first Christian generation loses its stained-glass stillness. It becomes noisy.

Teachers arrive after Paul and challenge his work. Peter withdraws from a table shared with Gentiles, and Paul rebukes him publicly. Congregations divide into parties. Some question Paul’s authority, while others accuse him of weakness. Christians quarrel about circumcision, food, sex, money, spiritual gifts, and the place of Gentiles within the people of God. In Corinth, some even deny that the dead will one day be raised, forcing Paul to explain that Christianity collapses if resurrection itself is impossible.

These letters are not a carefully posed family portrait painted after every disagreement had been forgotten. They are correspondence from inside a movement still deciding how Jews and Gentiles could eat together, worship together, and become one people. We hear doors closing, voices rising, and friendships straining beneath convictions that mattered.

That noise is one reason these letters are so valuable.

Paul did not hide the early church’s conflicts. Yet amid everything these people disputed, one agreement remains strikingly clear:

“Whether, then, it was I or they, this is what we proclaim, and this is what you believed.”

1 Corinthians 15:11, c. A.D. 54

“I” means Paul.

“They” means the apostles who came before him.

Paul is saying that, whatever else divided them, they proclaimed the same central event: Jesus had died, been buried, been raised, and appeared.

The resurrection was not one of the disagreements Paul was trying to settle between himself and the Jerusalem apostles. It was the ground on which all of them were already standing.


Beginning Where the Christian and the Skeptic Can Stand Together

In the earlier post, “When Atheists and Christians Agree,” we established why seven letters attributed to Paul are accepted across nearly the entire range of New Testament scholarship: Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon.

In “Christianity Before Paul,” we then followed the proclamation embedded in 1 Corinthians 15 backward and discovered that Paul was not its inventor. He explicitly says that he received it and handed it on.

Now we must turn from the message to the people whose names it carries.

For the present argument, we will temporarily set aside the Gospels, Acts, 1 and 2 Peter, James, and the Johannine writings. I am not saying those books are false. Claims such as the Transfiguration testimony in 2 Peter and the sensory testimony of 1 John deserve careful treatment of their own. Ancient secretaries, close associates, and authorized transmitters also complicate modern assumptions about authorship.

Nevertheless, we do not need to settle those questions here. We can begin with the seven documents that skeptical scholarship itself places on the table.

That gives us a useful discipline. We will distinguish between three things:

  1. What Paul explicitly says.
  2. What can reasonably be inferred from the people he knew.
  3. What later or non-Christian sources can independently confirm.

A faith worth holding does not require us to turn probabilities into certainties. It requires us to identify what the evidence actually gives us and then ask which explanation best accounts for it.


The Names Inside the Earliest Proclamation

Paul reminds the Corinthians of the message he had previously delivered to them:

“For I handed on to you, among the first and most important things, what I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he has been raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve. After that he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom remain until now, though some have died. After that he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one born at the wrong time, he appeared also to me.”

1 Corinthians 15:3–8, c. A.D. 54

Scholars debate the exact boundaries of the material Paul inherited. Verses 3 through 5 are the clearest earlier core. Verses 6 and 7 may preserve additional tradition that Paul has expanded, while verse 8 plainly adds Paul’s own experience.

The passage does not tell us whether Paul received this material orally, in writing, or through some combination of both. “Received” and “handed on” identify a process of transmission, not its physical medium.

The historical point is simpler and stronger: Paul is our earliest surviving Christian author, but he is not the earliest Christian voice speaking inside his own letter.

The proclamation was already moving before he wrote it down.

More importantly, Paul was not separated from its principal names by several anonymous generations. He knew them.

Four men emerge near the center of the network: Paul, Peter, James, and John. They do not give us four equal eyewitness affidavits, and we should never claim that they do. What we possess is historically more complicated:

FigureWhat the seven letters establishHistorical weightImportant limit
PaulHe personally claims that the risen Jesus appeared to himDirect testimony in an uncontested letterHe gives few details about the experience
PeterHe is individually named in the earlier appearance tradition and personally known by PaulStrong, early mediated testimonyNo uncontested first-person appearance account from Peter is used here
JamesHe is individually named in the appearance tradition and personally known by PaulStrong mediated testimony with outside confirmation of his identityPaul does not narrate the appearance or say it converted James
JohnPaul personally knew him as a Jerusalem pillar, and he was probably included among the TwelveStrong network connection and probable inclusionPaul never individually says, “Jesus appeared to John”

This is not four identical testimonies. It is one direct claimant, two earlier named appearance recipients whom he personally knew, one further pillar probably included within the collective claim, and a much larger network surrounding them all.


Paul: The Witness Who Speaks for Himself

Paul is the strongest witness in the seven letters because he speaks in his own uncontested voice.

While defending his apostolic authority, he asks:

“Have I not seen Jesus our Lord?”

1 Corinthians 9:1

Later he places himself at the end of the appearance sequence:

“Last of all, as to one born at the wrong time, he appeared also to me.”

1 Corinthians 15:8

Paul is not merely reporting what someone else told him. He is making a personal claim.

That claim cannot be separated from the direction his life had been moving before it. Paul says that he had persecuted the church of God and attempted to destroy it. He reminds the Galatians that Christians once said of him:

“The man who once persecuted us is now proclaiming the faith he once tried to destroy.”

Galatians 1:23

Paul was not a grieving disciple who desperately wanted Jesus back. He was not waiting for Jesus to appear. By his own account, he was zealously opposing the movement.

His later description of his former life does not sound like a man consciously tormented by secret Christian sympathies:

“As to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.”

Philippians 3:6

A skeptic may propose that Paul had an unrecognized inner conflict, an ecstatic experience, a seizure, or some other altered state. Such explanations are possible. The difficulty is that they are psychological reconstructions supplied almost two thousand years later. Paul himself describes zeal and confidence, not guilt, longing, or emotional collapse.

The encounter also did not produce a brief burst of excitement that disappeared when life became difficult. Paul endured beatings, imprisonment, hunger, danger, public humiliation, and repeated rejection while continuing to proclaim the same crucified and risen Jesus.

That does not prove Paul’s perception was accurate. People can suffer for false beliefs. It does, however, make conscious fraud a poor explanation. Paul appears to have been profoundly sincere.

Therefore the serious skeptical position is not that Paul knowingly invented an appearance. It is that he sincerely experienced something whose cause he misunderstood.

That is the real question we will eventually have to answer.


Peter: The Earlier Witness Paul Actually Knew

The inherited proclamation begins its named list with Cephas, the Aramaic name by which Paul ordinarily refers to Peter:

“He appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve.”

1 Corinthians 15:5

If Peter were merely a distant legendary character, his name would give us little historical leverage. But Peter was not distant from Paul.

On the early dating adopted in this series, Paul wrote Galatians around A.D. 48. There he describes a visit to Jerusalem that had occurred years earlier:

“After three years I went up to Jerusalem to become acquainted with Cephas and stayed with him fifteen days. I saw none of the other apostles except James, the Lord’s brother.”

Galatians 1:18–19

Paul spent fifteen days with Peter.

We should not turn that visit into a formal courtroom investigation. Paul does not tell us the contents of every conversation, and he never says, “I interviewed Peter for fifteen days about the resurrection.” What the passage establishes is access. Peter was not a name Paul encountered only through rumor. Paul stayed with him and knew him personally.

Their relationship continued. Paul later negotiated with Peter concerning their respective missions. Still later, at Antioch, Paul publicly opposed him over table fellowship with Gentile believers.

“When Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned.”

Galatians 2:11

That dispute is historically revealing. Paul did not manufacture a story in which all the apostles agreed about everything and treated one another with effortless harmony. He preserved a painful conflict with the man named first in the resurrection tradition.

Yet Paul could still write:

“Whether, then, it was I or they, this is what we proclaim.”

Paul disagreed with Peter about how the gospel should shape a shared table. He did not describe a disagreement over whether Jesus had been raised or whether Peter belonged in the appearance tradition.

Peter’s testimony does not survive here in Peter’s own uncontested writing. It reaches us through the earlier proclamation Paul transmits. Nevertheless, Peter was someone Paul knew, visited, negotiated with, and confronted.

That makes Peter considerably more than a legendary name attached to a story generations later.


James: The Brother Standing Inside the Movement

After mentioning the five hundred, Paul writes:

“After that he appeared to James, then to all the apostles.”

1 Corinthians 15:7

The verse itself says only “James.” It does not identify him further. The most likely identification is James, the brother of Jesus, whom Paul names in Galatians. We should call that identification highly probable, not pretend that 1 Corinthians spells it out.

Paul says that he met “James, the Lord’s brother” during his earlier Jerusalem visit. He later describes James, Peter, and John as recognized pillars of the Jerusalem church.

James therefore appears in three important positions:

  • As an individually named recipient in the resurrection tradition.
  • As the brother of Jesus whom Paul personally knew.
  • As a recognized leader in the Jerusalem movement.

Paul does not say that James had been an unbeliever before the appearance. He does not say that the appearance converted him. Those familiar arguments depend on material outside the seven-letter foundation and should be treated separately.

Yet James can be anchored outside the New Testament.

Around A.D. 93 or 94, the Jewish historian Josephus described an event from A.D. 62:

“Ananus assembled the Sanhedrin of judges and brought before it the brother of Jesus who was called Christ, whose name was James, together with certain others. He accused them of breaking the law and handed them over to be stoned.”

Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 20.200, c. A.D. 93–94

Josephus does not say that Jesus appeared to James. He does not tell us why James joined the movement, and he does not say that James died because he refused to deny the resurrection.

What Josephus independently confirms is still significant. James was not a character invented in a later Christian narrative. He was a publicly identifiable Jewish figure in Jerusalem, known as the brother of Jesus who was called Christ, and he was executed around A.D. 62.

The James whom Paul met belonged to history, not only to church tradition.


John: A Fourth Central Figure, but Not a Fourth Equal Testimony

John enters the seven letters in Galatians:

“James and Cephas and John, who were recognized as pillars, perceived the grace that had been given to me and gave the right hand of fellowship to Barnabas and me, agreeing that we should go to the Gentiles and they to the circumcised.”

Galatians 2:9

Paul personally dealt with a John who stood beside Peter and James as a recognized leader of the Jerusalem movement. John participated in the meeting at which Paul presented his gospel, and he joined the other pillars in recognizing Paul’s mission.

This makes John historically important. Paul was not connected only to Peter and James. His contact reached another principal leader of the Jerusalem church.

But John’s evidentiary place must be described carefully.

Galatians does not identify this John as the son of Zebedee. It does not explicitly call him one of the Twelve. It does not record anything John said about an appearance. If this is John the son of Zebedee, as is usually inferred, then he was probably included within the collective statement that Jesus “appeared to the Twelve.” But that remains a reasonable inference, not an individually preserved testimony.

John is therefore the fourth major figure in the network, but he is the least certain of the four as an individually established appearance recipient.

First Corinthians 15 and Galatians 2 give us John’s probable inclusion, not John’s independent deposition.


The Room Was Much Larger Than Four Men

The earliest resurrection proclamation does not contain only four names.

It mentions the Twelve, more than five hundred at one time, and all the apostles. Elsewhere Paul names Barnabas and Titus at the Jerusalem meeting. He knows people who came from James. He refers to other apostles and the brothers of the Lord traveling with believing wives. He works with Silvanus, Timothy, and Sosthenes. He mentions Andronicus and Junia as people who were “in Christ” before him. Prisca and Aquila connect his mission across cities, while Phoebe, house churches, coworkers, messengers, patrons, and entire families appear throughout his correspondence.

These people cannot all be counted as independent resurrection witnesses.

The five hundred are not five hundred surviving affidavits. Paul gives us one report about a large group. When he says that most were still alive, he places the claim within living memory, but he does not provide their names or preserve interviews with them.

John, Barnabas, Titus, Timothy, Silvanus, Prisca, Aquila, Andronicus, Junia, and Phoebe do not become resurrection witnesses merely because Paul names them.

Their importance is different.

They show that Paul’s claim did not live inside one isolated mind. His gospel traveled through an interconnected social world filled with missionaries, congregations, rival teachers, Jesus’ family, recognized Jerusalem leaders, people who had joined the movement before Paul, and communities extending from Judea through Asia Minor and Greece to Rome.

Paul’s letters are not seven copies of the same testimony. They are windows into one large and sometimes argumentative network through which the resurrection proclamation was being carried.

A remote legend can grow around inaccessible names. Paul’s letters place the central names within a living web of contact, conflict, travel, correspondence, and shared work.

That does not automatically make their belief true. It makes the idea of a late, anonymous invention increasingly difficult to sustain.


A Gospel Already Waiting for Paul in Rome

The church in Rome gives us another important piece of the network.

Paul did not establish this congregation. When he wrote Romans around A.D. 57, he had never visited it. He tells them that he had often planned to come but had so far been prevented. Nevertheless, Christians were already gathering in Rome, their faith was widely known, and Paul could address them as people who already shared the gospel he proclaimed.

“First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is being proclaimed throughout the whole world.”

Romans 1:8, c. A.D. 57

Paul does not write as though he is introducing the Roman Christians to an unknown Jesus. He expects to find a common faith already waiting for him:

“I long to see you so that I may share some spiritual gift with you to strengthen you, or rather, so that we may be mutually encouraged by one another’s faith, both yours and mine.”

Romans 1:11–12

That phrase matters: “both yours and mine.”

Paul does not describe two competing Christian messages, one belonging to Rome and another belonging to himself. He expects mutual recognition. The faith that had reached Rome and the faith Paul proclaimed belonged to the same movement.

At the heart of his letter, Paul expresses that shared faith in one of the most concentrated Christian confessions in the New Testament:

“If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

Romans 10:9

Paul can say this to a congregation he did not establish because the resurrection was not a private Pauline doctrine. Christians had reached Rome before Paul, formed congregations without Paul, confessed Jesus without Paul’s personal presence, and already possessed the faith Paul expected to recognize as his own.

Paul undoubtedly develops that gospel with his own arguments and distinctive theological depth. But its center does not belong to him alone. Jesus is Lord. God raised him from the dead. Those who place their trust in him will be saved.

The message had moved from Jerusalem into Judea, Syria, Asia Minor, Greece, and finally Rome, not through one solitary teacher but through an expanding network of believers.

Romans therefore gives us more than another Pauline statement about resurrection. It gives us a Christian congregation Paul had never visited already standing within the same resurrection-centered faith.

The proclamation was traveling before Paul arrived, beyond the places Paul personally founded, through people whose names history has largely forgotten. When Paul finally wrote to Rome, he was not carrying a new gospel into an empty city. He was connecting with a faith already there.


The Things They Did Argue About

The early Christians argued about whether Gentile men needed circumcision. They argued about whether Jewish and Gentile believers could eat together. They argued about Paul’s authority and whether his suffering made him appear weak. They argued about food sacrificed to idols, marriage, sexual conduct, spiritual gifts, speaking in tongues, financial support, and how worship should be ordered.

Paul’s opponents accused him of serious failures. Paul accused rival teachers of corrupting his congregations. He confronted Peter publicly and defended his own apostleship repeatedly.

Even resurrection produced a dispute at Corinth:

“Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some among you say that there is no resurrection of the dead?”

1 Corinthians 15:12

This verse must be read carefully. Some Corinthians were denying the future resurrection of the dead. Paul treats their position as inconsistent with something they had already received and believed: that Christ had been raised.

His argument is not, “You deny that Jesus rose, and I must convince you that he did.” His argument is, “You confess that Jesus rose, but you do not understand that his resurrection guarantees the resurrection of those who belong to him.”

They were trying to retain a glorified Jesus while discarding the future resurrection of embodied human beings. Paul refuses to let them separate the two.

“If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation is empty, and your faith is empty.”

1 Corinthians 15:13–14

Paul is willing to show us the movement’s wounds. He does not hide his confrontation with Peter, the suspicions surrounding his apostleship, or the divisions tearing Corinth apart.

Yet when he reaches the resurrection proclamation, he writes:

“Whether it was I or they, this is what we proclaim, and this is what you believed.”

The surviving correspondence does not contain every argument that ever occurred. We possess Paul’s letters, not transcripts from every Christian conversation. We therefore should not claim that no human being anywhere challenged an appearance report.

What we can say is more precise: no surviving first-generation source records Peter, James, or John repudiating the resurrection proclamation attributed to their movement. More importantly, Paul positively states that he and the earlier apostles proclaimed the same resurrection gospel.

The disagreements are documented. The alleged conspiracy is not.

They did not have to agree about everything in order to agree about what had started everything.


The Movement Outside Paul’s Letters

Later sources cannot independently tell us exactly what Peter, James, or Paul saw. But they can show us whether Paul’s letters and the resurrection-centered memory attached to the apostles disappeared, changed beyond recognition, or remained embedded in early Christian communities.

Near the end of the first century, the church in Rome wrote to the church in Corinth:

“Take up the letter of the blessed apostle Paul. What did he write to you at the beginning of the gospel? Truly, he wrote to you in the Spirit about himself, Cephas, and Apollos, because even then you had formed factions.”

1 Clement 47.1–3, c. A.D. 95–96

This is remarkable external evidence for 1 Corinthians. The Roman church expects the Corinthian church to consult Paul’s letter, and it accurately remembers its distinctive discussion of factions formed around Paul, Cephas, and Apollos.

The same Roman letter describes the resurrection as the source of the apostles’ confidence:

“After receiving their commission and being fully assured through the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, and confirmed by God’s word, they went out with the assurance of the Holy Spirit, announcing that God’s kingdom was about to come.”

1 Clement 42.3, c. A.D. 95–96

This is not an eyewitness account. It does show that, by the late first century, the Roman church remembered resurrection assurance as the force that sent the apostles into the world.

In the early second century, Ignatius preserved a bodily appearance tradition connected specifically with Peter’s group:

“I know and believe that he was in the flesh even after the resurrection. When he came to Peter and those with him, he said, ‘Take hold of me, touch me, and see that I am not a bodiless spirit.’ Immediately they touched him and believed. After the resurrection he ate and drank with them as one in the flesh.”

Ignatius, To the Smyrnaeans 3.1–3, early second century

Ignatius was not an eyewitness. We cannot determine whether he received this tradition orally, from a written source, or from a text related to the Gospel traditions. His value is narrower: within the early second century, Christians were not remembering Peter’s experience as a vague impression that Jesus’ soul continued somewhere. They were insisting upon a stubbornly embodied resurrection.

Taken together, these sources do not independently prove that Jesus rose. Josephus anchors James in first-century Jerusalem. The Roman church knows and cites Paul’s Corinthian correspondence. Ignatius preserves an embodied appearance tradition centered on Peter’s company.

They show that Paul’s documents and resurrection-centered apostolic memory were already rooted across Jerusalem, Rome, Corinth, Syria, and Asia Minor by the late first and early second centuries.

For the originating claims themselves, however, we must return to the seven letters.


What Did These People Think Had Happened?

The word “vision” is often treated as though it settles the case.

It does not.

A vision may be veridical, meaning that someone truly present caused the experience. It may be nonveridical, meaning that the experience occurred within the observer without the perceived person being present.

Calling an experience a vision describes how it was perceived. It does not yet explain what caused it.

The Christian claim is also stronger than saying that Peter, James, Paul, and probably John saw the spirit of a dead man. Paul’s resurrection proclamation has a deliberate movement:

Jesus died.

He was buried.

God raised him.

He appeared.

Paul then explains that the resurrection of Jesus is the beginning of the future resurrection of human beings. Christ is the “firstfruits,” the first portion of what God will do for those who belong to him.

When Paul speaks of a “spiritual body,” he does not mean a body made out of immaterial spirit. He means embodied life transformed and animated by God’s Spirit, no longer subject to corruption and death.

He writes:

“If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit dwelling in you.”

Romans 8:11

He tells the Philippians that Christ:

“Will transform our lowly body to be conformed to his glorious body.”

Philippians 3:21

Paul knew how to speak about visions and revelations. He does so in 2 Corinthians 12. Yet in 1 Corinthians 15 he describes the resurrection appearances as a bounded, foundational sequence and places his own experience “last of all.”

We should not force every appearance into precisely the same sensory form. Paul gives us too few details for that. But neither should we flatten his claim into the thought that Jesus’ influence lived on or that his soul had gone peacefully to heaven.

Paul believed that the crucified and buried Jesus had been raised by God into transformed embodied life and had made himself known to chosen witnesses.

The skeptical account must explain that specific conclusion, not a weaker version of it.


The Strongest Skeptical Explanation

The strongest skeptical argument is not that Paul, Peter, James, and everyone around them deliberately conspired to deceive the world.

It proposes something more serious.

Perhaps Peter, overwhelmed by grief and expectation, experienced a sincere vision of Jesus. Jewish Scripture and resurrection hope supplied the interpretation. Others accepted Peter’s conviction and experienced events of their own. Group expectation, worship, memory, and social reinforcement expanded the belief. James became associated with the movement. Paul later underwent an ecstatic or revelatory experience produced by a different psychological cause. As the message was transmitted, these varied experiences were arranged into one resurrection tradition.

This explanation has genuine strengths.

False beliefs can form quickly. Early does not necessarily mean true. Bereavement experiences occur. Religious communities can reinforce interpretations. Paul gives no sensory description of any appearance. Peter’s and James’s claims reach us through Paul rather than through uncontested writings of their own. The group claims are reports, not hundreds of preserved interviews.

A Christian should not pretend that such a reconstruction is impossible.

But possibility is not the same as explanatory adequacy.

The reconstruction must assign different unrecorded causes to differently situated people. Peter may be explained through grief. Paul cannot. Paul was trying to destroy the movement, so another explanation must be supplied for him. James may require still another cause. The group traditions require some combination of expectation, shared interpretation, altered memory, ambiguous stimuli, or expanding report.

Multiple causes are not automatically false. The problem is that most of these specific causes are not found in our earliest sources. They are added in order to explain why the sources say what they say.

The same sources place the experiences inside one sequence, use the same appearance language for Paul and the earlier recipients, connect Paul personally with Peter and James, and report a shared resurrection proclamation among leaders who disagreed about other serious matters.

A postmortem experience might ordinarily lead someone to say, “He is still with God,” “His spirit visited me,” or “I felt his presence.” Those categories already existed. The surprising conclusion was that God had bodily raised one particular man ahead of the general resurrection and that the new age had therefore begun in him.

A nonveridical vision can explain a sighting. By itself, it does not explain the full resurrection proclamation.

The naturalistic reconstruction has a lower metaphysical cost because it does not require divine action. It has a higher historical complexity because it combines several largely undocumented psychological and social processes.

The resurrection has an enormous metaphysical cost because it claims that God acted uniquely within history. But if God did act, it provides striking explanatory unity: these people said Jesus appeared because Jesus appeared.

Neither cost should be hidden.


Celsus: The Ancient Hallucination Argument

The naturalistic alternatives are not modern discoveries.

Around A.D. 175 to 180, the pagan critic Celsus wrote a work against Christianity. His book has been lost, but substantial portions survive because Origen quoted and answered him around A.D. 248. In this part of his work, Celsus placed his argument in the mouth of a Jewish critic.

Celsus proposed dream, wish-shaped imagination, and deliberate fraud:

“Who saw this? A woman in a frenzy, as you say, and perhaps someone else involved in the same deception. Either the witness dreamed it because of a particular state of mind, or a deluded imagination produced an appearance according to what the witness wanted to see, as has happened to countless people. Or someone wanted to astonish others with this wonder and, by such a lie, give other charlatans an opportunity.”

Celsus, The True Word, c. A.D. 175–180, preserved in Origen, Against Celsus 2.55

Origen answered the fraud theory by appealing to the cost borne by the witnesses:

“Had they invented the claim that Jesus rose from the dead, they would not have taught it with such determination, preparing not only others to face death without fear but themselves to do so first.”

Origen, Against Celsus 2.56, c. A.D. 248

Origen’s response establishes sincerity more readily than truth. People can suffer for beliefs that are sincerely mistaken. But his answer is especially strong when applied to Paul, whose sufferings are described in Paul’s own uncontested letters.

Celsus also diagnosed the first witness as mentally unstable. Origen rightly asked what evidence supported that diagnosis:

“Celsus called the woman frenzied. Yet the written account gives no indication of it. On what basis, then, did he make this accusation against the events?”

Origen, Against Celsus 2.60

Origen’s surrounding claim that sane people cannot experience waking visions is no longer defensible. Mentally healthy people can have vivid bereavement experiences and other nonveridical perceptions.

His better point remains: a possible psychological condition is not a demonstrated diagnosis. Celsus supplied no evidence concerning the witness’s mental state. Modern theories about Paul’s hidden guilt or Peter’s precise psychological condition face the same limitation.

They may be possible. The sources do not establish them.


Celsus: Why Did Jesus Not Appear to Everyone?

Celsus also raised one of the most difficult objections to the resurrection:

“When he was in the body and was disbelieved, he preached openly to everyone. But after rising from the dead, when he could have produced powerful belief, he appeared secretly to only one woman and to his own circle of followers.”

Celsus, The True Word, preserved in Origen, Against Celsus 2.70

Origen candidly conceded part of the argument:

“We also agree that, according to the Gospel, after the resurrection he was not seen in the same way as before, publicly and by everyone.”

Origen, Against Celsus 2.63

Origen then quoted the entire appearance list from 1 Corinthians 15. He argued that the risen Jesus appeared selectively to people capable of perceiving his glorified life, much as only Peter, James, and John witnessed the Transfiguration.

That may be a theological answer, but by itself it risks circular reasoning. Jesus appeared to those capable of seeing him, and we know they were capable because they saw him.

A Christian should admit that an appearance to Pilate, the high priest, or an assembled Roman crowd would give us stronger public evidence. The question of why God did not provide that evidence belongs to the larger problem of divine hiddenness.

Still, Celsus’s description does not fit all the earliest evidence. Paul was not a grieving woman or a loyal follower already expecting Jesus to return. He was an active opponent. The appearance claim eventually reached someone who had been trying to destroy the movement.

Paul does not remove every difficulty in Celsus’s objection. He does break the simple claim that Jesus appeared only within a closed circle of people who already wanted to see him.


Hierocles: Were Peter and Paul Simply Liars?

Around A.D. 303, another pagan critic, Hierocles, directly accused Peter and Paul of fabricating Christian claims:

“The stories about Jesus were embellished by Peter and Paul and a few others like them, men who were liars, uneducated, and sorcerers.”

Hierocles, Lover of Truth, c. A.D. 303, preserved in Eusebius, Against Hierocles 2

Hierocles contrasted the Christian witnesses with supposedly better-educated writers who reported the deeds of Apollonius of Tyana. Eusebius responded that Hierocles had not actually tested those sources with the same suspicion he applied to Christianity. Concerning Jesus’ followers, he wrote:

“Jesus formed a company of genuine and truly sincere disciples who were ready at a moment’s notice to lay down their lives for his teaching.”

Eusebius, Against Hierocles 4, early fourth century

Education does not determine whether testimony is true, and willingness to suffer does not make every belief accurate. What suffering does weaken is the accusation of conscious fabrication, particularly when a witness such as Paul describes the cost in his own letters.

Hierocles called Peter and Paul liars. He did not provide evidence that either man privately denied the proclamation he publicly maintained.

The fraud theory remains possible only by treating the witnesses’ sustained conduct as part of the deception. That is possible in the abstract, but it fits Paul’s surviving correspondence poorly.


The Ancient Demand for More Impressive Witnesses

Another pagan critic, preserved anonymously by Macarius Magnes, asked why Jesus did not appear to more prestigious people:

“Why did Jesus, after suffering and rising again according to your account, not appear to Pilate, or to Herod, or to the high priest, or to many trustworthy people at the same time, especially prominent Romans? Instead, he appeared to Mary Magdalene and a few other people who were not well known. If he had shown himself to prominent people, everyone would have believed through them.”

Anonymous pagan critic, preserved in Macarius Magnes, Apocriticus 2.14, probably late fourth or early fifth century

Older scholarship sometimes attributed this argument to Porphyry, but the identification is uncertain and should not be stated as fact.

Macarius answered that appearances to political leaders could have been dismissed as collusion:

“He did not appear to Pilate when he rose from the dead, so that the resurrection would not seem to require human support for its confirmation. Instead, he made himself known to women, and then to disciples who were themselves powerless and obscure.”

Macarius Magnes, Apocriticus 2.19

Macarius offers a theological reason for God choosing socially unimpressive witnesses. It does not historically demonstrate that the appearances occurred.

The critic is correct that hostile public witnesses would strengthen the evidence. He is wrong to assume that social rank determines credibility. A peasant woman may tell the truth, while a senator may lie.

Once again, Paul complicates the objection. He was neither politically important nor socially powerless in the same manner as some of Jesus’ followers. More importantly, he was hostile to the movement. The resurrection claim did not remain confined to people who had followed Jesus during his ministry.


Porphyry and the Difference Between Immortality and Resurrection

No securely preserved passage from Porphyry directly analyzes the resurrection appearances or accuses Paul’s witnesses of hallucination.

A genuine passage from Porphyry is relevant for a different reason. He could speak favorably of Jesus while rejecting Christian worship:

“Christ, then, was holy, and like the holy, went to heaven. Therefore you will say no evil about him, but pity the folly of men.”

Porphyry, Philosophy from Oracles, Book 3, preserved in Eusebius, Demonstration of the Gospel 3.7

Porphyry believed that the soul of a pious person could become immortal and go to heaven. Eusebius turned the concession against pagan accusations that Jesus had been a sorcerer:

“You have our Savior acknowledged by your own people not as a magician or sorcerer, but as pious, perfectly just, wise, and an inhabitant of heaven.”

Eusebius, Demonstration of the Gospel 3.7, early fourth century

Eusebius’s reply does not prove the resurrection. The historical importance of the exchange is that it reveals an ancient alternative category already available to Christians and pagans alike: Jesus was dead, but his righteous soul lived in heaven.

Paul did not choose that category.

He proclaimed that Jesus died, was buried, was raised, appeared, and became the beginning of the future resurrection of mortal bodies.

The resurrection message cannot be reduced to the generic belief that a good man’s soul survived death. Ancient people knew how to make that claim. The first Christians said something more concrete and more dangerous.


What the Christian and the Skeptic Must Both Explain

After removing exaggeration from both sides, the seven letters leave us with several historical conclusions that deserve to be treated seriously:

  1. Paul personally and sincerely claimed that the risen Jesus appeared to him.
  2. Paul did not invent the resurrection proclamation, because a Christian movement proclaiming the faith existed before he joined it.
  3. An earlier tradition individually named Peter and James as appearance recipients.
  4. Paul personally knew Peter and James.
  5. Paul knew John as a leading Jerusalem pillar.
  6. Paul and the earlier apostles shared the resurrection proclamation despite other disputes.
  7. The claim circulated through a much larger identifiable network.
  8. A church Paul did not establish already existed in Rome and possessed a faith he recognized as shared with his own.
  9. The proclamation concerned the raising and transformation of embodied life, not merely the survival of Jesus’ memory or soul.

The evidence does not give us four equal, independent written depositions. It does not tell us exactly what every appearance looked like. It does not convert the five hundred into five hundred interviews. It does not prove that every later martyrdom story is accurate.

What it gives us is still substantial: one direct claimant, two earlier named recipients he personally knew, one further pillar probably included among the collective recipients, and a wider movement built around the shared proclamation that God had raised Jesus from the dead.

The strongest skeptical reconstruction can account for this evidence. It can propose sincere individual visions, psychological causes that differed from person to person, scriptural interpretation, group reinforcement, changing memory, and the development of a shared tradition.

The difficulty is not that any one of those processes is impossible. The difficulty is that the theory must combine several of them, even though the precise psychological and social events it requires are mostly absent from our earliest sources.

The resurrection explanation requires one extraordinary cause. If God raised Jesus, then the appearance claims, Paul’s reversal, the agreement of rival leaders, the embodied resurrection proclamation, and the movement formed around them become parts of one event.

The question is not whether a naturalistic scenario can be imagined. Nearly any historical evidence can be fitted into a sufficiently flexible reconstruction. The question is whether that reconstruction arises from the sources or is being supplied because the sources’ own explanation has already been excluded.

History cannot make the resurrection ordinary. It can bring us to a place where dismissing it is no longer intellectually effortless.


And We Have Established All of This From Only Seven Letters

At this point, we should remember the severe limits we placed upon ourselves.

We set aside the four Gospels.

We set aside Acts.

We set aside 1 and 2 Peter, James, 1 John, Hebrews, Revelation, and every other disputed New Testament writing.

We did not rely upon the women discovering the empty tomb. We did not appeal to Jesus eating with his disciples, inviting Thomas to touch him, walking with two followers on the road to Emmaus, or appearing beside the Sea of Galilee. We did not use Acts to describe the public resurrection proclamation in Jerusalem. We did not use 2 Peter’s claim to have witnessed Jesus’ glory at the Transfiguration or 1 John’s declaration concerning what “we have heard,” “seen with our eyes,” and “touched with our hands.”

We began only with the seven Pauline letters accepted by virtually the entire critical field.

From those seven letters alone, we discovered:

  • An earlier proclamation that Jesus died, was buried, was raised, and appeared.
  • Paul’s direct claim that he personally saw the risen Lord.
  • Peter and James individually named as earlier appearance recipients.
  • Paul’s personal acquaintance with Peter and James.
  • John standing beside them as a recognized Jerusalem pillar.
  • The Twelve, the five hundred, and all the apostles included within the wider appearance tradition.
  • Paul and Peter openly disagreeing about other matters while continuing to proclaim the same resurrection gospel.
  • A broad network of families, churches, missionaries, coworkers, and earlier believers carrying the message across the Roman world.
  • A Christian congregation in Rome, never founded or previously visited by Paul, already sharing a resurrection-centered faith.
  • A resurrection understood as the transformation of embodied life, not merely the survival of Jesus’ memory or the immortality of his soul.

That is what remains after we grant the skeptic the most restrictive documentary starting point.

The seven letters are not the ceiling of the resurrection case. They are its floor.

Now imagine what happens when the remainder of the New Testament is permitted to testify.

The picture becomes fuller. The burial receives a location and an identifiable owner. Women arrive at the tomb and find it empty. Mary Magdalene becomes a named appearance witness. Peter runs to investigate. Groups of disciples report seeing Jesus. They speak with him, eat with him, touch him, and struggle to understand what has happened. The resurrection is proclaimed publicly in Jerusalem, the city where Jesus had been executed. Petrine and Johannine writings preserve claims of having seen, heard, and touched the reality at the center of the faith.

These writings cannot simply be stacked together as though every passage were a completely independent affidavit. The Gospels share traditions, questions of authorship remain, and later sources must be evaluated according to their own historical strength.

But neither can they be dismissed merely because the seven-letter foundation is already sufficient to begin the case.

Once the rest of the New Testament is taken seriously, the evidence does not become weaker. It becomes denser. Additional names, places, memories, narrative details, and streams of testimony begin surrounding the historical core already visible in Paul.

The skeptic must then explain not only Paul’s experience, Peter’s claim, James’s place in the tradition, John’s leadership, and the Roman church’s shared faith. The skeptic must also explain the empty-tomb tradition, the prominence of women as initial witnesses, the embodied character of the Gospel appearances, the public proclamation in Jerusalem, and the persistent sensory language attached to the apostolic witness.

The minimalist experiment was never intended to tell the whole Christian story. It asked whether a defensible foundation would remain after the skeptic removed as much disputed material as possible.

It does.

Once that foundation has been established, the rest of the New Testament deserves to be heard not as a collection of desperate attempts to create Christianity, but as a larger body of testimony growing around a resurrection proclamation that was already present before Paul began to write.


Why the Actual Appearance of Jesus Best Explains the Evidence

A naturalistic explanation can be constructed.

Peter may have experienced a grief-induced vision. James may have undergone some other psychological or religious experience. Paul’s hostile reversal may be attributed to an unrecognized internal conflict, an ecstatic event, or a neurological episode. Group reports may be explained through expectation, social reinforcement, altered memory, or later expansion. The resurrection meaning of these experiences may then be attributed to Jewish Scripture and the hope of a future resurrection.

None of those processes is impossible.

The difficulty is that the reconstruction must repeatedly introduce causes our earliest sources never mention. Different psychological explanations must be assigned to different people until Peter’s grief, James’s relationship to Jesus, Paul’s hostility, John’s leadership, group experiences, and distant congregations all arrive at the same risen Christ.

The Christian explanation carries the enormous claim that God acted. Yet once that possibility is admitted, the evidence assumes a remarkable unity.

Peter believed Jesus appeared because Jesus appeared.

James entered the appearance tradition because Jesus appeared to him.

Paul stopped persecuting the church because the Jesus he believed was dead confronted him alive.

The Jerusalem pillars and Paul proclaimed the same resurrection because they had encountered the same risen Lord.

The churches confessed the same message because the witnesses carried it outward.

The Roman Christians believed in the risen Jesus before Paul arrived because the resurrection gospel had already reached them through the movement’s larger network.

The Christian explanation does not require several minds, under several different pressures, independently producing the same risen Jesus. It proposes that the same risen Jesus encountered different people and created the network we now find in our earliest documents.

That is why I believe these were actual appearances.

Not because every alternative can be proven impossible.

Not because early Christians were incapable of error.

Not because suffering automatically makes every belief true.

I believe it because the resurrection provides the most coherent explanation for the entire pattern: the early proclamation, the named witnesses, Paul’s hostile reversal, the agreement amid conflict, the embodied meaning of resurrection, the expansion of the movement, and the same faith appearing in churches Paul had never visited.

The witnesses did not create the risen Jesus.

The risen Jesus created the witnesses.


The Ground on Which We Can Still Stand

For the Christian holding faith with tired hands, this evidence does not answer why God permitted the suffering that made faith tremble. It does not resolve every biblical difficulty, repair every wound caused by the church, or make every Christian doctrine equally certain.

The resurrection should never be used to silence those questions.

It does something smaller and more essential. It keeps the center from disappearing when everything around it is covered in fog.

Paul wrote 1 Corinthians to believers whose faith had begun to divide against itself. They still spoke about Christ, yet some no longer understood what resurrection required them to believe. Paul did not shame them for needing to hear the gospel again. He returned it to their hands:

“I remind you of the gospel I proclaimed to you, which you received, in which you stand, and through which you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message.”

1 Corinthians 15:1–2

Conversion is not necessarily the last time a Christian receives the gospel.

There may come a time when inherited faith no longer feels sufficient, when suffering has stripped familiar answers of their power, or when every part of Christianity seems to be under dispute. At that moment, we may need to return to the center and ask what remains historically solid enough to hold.

The resurrection does not answer every question. It determines the world in which we ask them.

If God did not raise Jesus, no remembered conversion, beautiful worship service, inherited tradition, or sophisticated theology can make Christianity true.

But if God raised Jesus, then suffering and death, however terrible, do not possess the final word.

Christian faith is not merely believing that several people experienced veridical visions. The witnesses bring us to the historical threshold. Faith crosses that threshold by trusting the one they said appeared:

“If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

Romans 10:9

The first Christians did not agree because agreement came easily. They agreed at the point from which Christianity began.

We can see that agreement using only seven letters.

When the rest of the New Testament is allowed to speak, the foundation does not disappear beneath the additional testimony. It becomes surrounded, illuminated, and increasingly difficult to explain away.

The skeptic may conclude that different minds, under different pressures and in different places, produced the same risen Lord.

The Christian concludes that the same risen Lord encountered these different people, sent them into different places, and created this unlikely company of witnesses.

I believe the second explanation accounts for more of the evidence with fewer invented steps.

Their minds did not create the risen Jesus.

The risen Jesus created them.

Hatred of the Human Race: Rome’s First Verdict on Christianity

When Claudius ruled the Roman Empire from AD 41 to 54, the Christian movement was still young. His reign, while not free from hostility, created an unusual window in which the church could grow rapidly across the empire. Claudius’ policies toward Jews — and Christians who were still seen as part of Judaism — meant the faith could spread along the empire’s roads, through its cities, and into its synagogues with relatively less interference from the imperial government.

But this didn’t mean the first Christians were safe. In Judea, Herod Agrippa I executed James the son of Zebedee and imprisoned Peter. Claudius himself expelled Jews from Rome — an act that affected Jewish Christians as well. Persecution was still real, but it was often local and sporadic.

Under Nero, who reigned from AD 54 to 68, everything changed. In the aftermath of the Great Fire of Rome in AD 64, Christians were no longer treated as just another branch of Judaism. For the first time, they were publicly named, legally separated from the Jewish community, and branded as a dangerous new superstition.

During Nero’s reign, Paul wrote several of his most significant letters — 2 Corinthians, Romans, Philippians, and Philemon. In them, he repeatedly testifies to Christian suffering, urging endurance and faithfulness in the face of mounting hostility. These were not abstract warnings. Paul himself was on the road to Rome, knowing he would one day stand before the emperor’s judgment seat — and, by all early accounts, be executed for the gospel he preached.


The Great Fire of Rome and the First Imperial Persecution (AD 64)

In July AD 64, a massive fire swept through Rome. Ancient sources disagree on whether Nero was responsible, but the rumor persisted. To end it, he found a scapegoat.

Tacitus, Annals 15.44 (Loeb Translation)

“To suppress the rumor, Nero fabricated scapegoats and punished with every refinement the notoriously depraved Christians (as they were popularly called). Their originator, Christ, had been executed in Tiberius’ reign by the procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilatus.

Checked for a moment, this pernicious superstition again broke out—not only in Judea, the home of the disease, but even in Rome, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.

First, those who confessed were arrested; then, on their information, a vast multitude was convicted, not so much on the charge of arson as for hatred of the human race.

Their deaths were made farcical. Dressed in wild animal skins, they were torn to pieces by dogs, or crucified, or made into torches to be ignited after dark as substitutes for daylight.

Nero provided his gardens for the spectacle, and exhibited displays in the Circus, at which he mingled with the crowd—dressed as a charioteer or mounted on a chariot.

Hence, in spite of a guilt which had earned the most exemplary punishment, there arose a sentiment of pity, due to the impression that they were being sacrificed not for the welfare of the state but to the ferocity of a single man.”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44, Loeb Classical Library


What Did “Hatred of the Human Race” Mean?

To Roman ears, this charge meant Christians refused the social glue of Roman life.

  • They would not sacrifice to the gods for the welfare of the empire.
  • They avoided festivals, temples, and gladiatorial games.
  • They proclaimed divine judgment on the world, which Romans heard as contempt for humanity itself.

Christians believed they were called to love their neighbors, but their refusal to share in Rome’s civic religion was taken as proof that they despised mankind.


Suetonius, Life of Nero 16.2 (Loeb Translation)

“Punishments were also inflicted on the Christians, a sect professing a new and mischievous religious belief.”


Cassius Dio (via Zonaras, Loeb-based paraphrase)

“Nero was the first to punish the Christians, though they were guilty of no crime. Some were torn by dogs, others crucified, and others burned alive to serve as lamps at night.
The spectacle was held in Nero’s gardens. He mingled with the crowd in a charioteer’s garb. Pity arose, for it was evident they were being put to death not for the public good, but to gratify the cruelty of a single man.”


Why Christians, Not Jews, Were Targeted

Until Nero, Christians often shared in the legal protection Rome afforded to Judaism — a tolerated “ancient superstition.” But after the fire, Nero treated Christianity as a separate, unauthorized cult.

“Punishments were also inflicted on the Christians, a sect professing a new and mischievous religious belief.”
—Suetonius, Nero 16.2

“Checked for a moment, this pernicious superstition again broke out — not only in Judea, the home of the disease, but even in Rome…”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44


Rome’s Respect for Ancient Religions but Suspicion of New Ones

“Whatever is novel in religion is forbidden; but whatever is ancient is respected — even if it be based on error.”
—Tacitus, Histories 5.5, Loeb

“Religious belief exerts enormous power over the minds of men… Ancient religions win tolerance through their antiquity; new ones are looked on with suspicion, particularly when they refuse to worship the Roman gods.”
—Pliny the Elder, Natural History 30.11, Loeb

GroupRoman ViewLegal Status
JewsAncient superstitionTolerated (licita)
ChristiansNew superstitionUnlawful (illicita)

Modern Skepticism vs. Ancient Testimony

Candida Moss, The Myth of Persecution (2013):

“The earliest Christians were not targeted for being Christians… They were targeted for their refusal to obey the laws of the land.”

Bart Ehrman, The Triumph of Christianity (2018):

“Christians were persecuted not because of their religion per se, but because they were perceived to be antisocial and subversive to Roman unity.”

But the Roman historians describe something different.

  • Tacitus: a pernicious superstition spreading from Judea to Rome.
  • Suetonius: a new and mischievous religious belief.
  • Cassius Dio: Christians guilty of “no crime,” yet publicly humiliated and killed.
  • Pliny the Elder: Rome tolerated ancient faiths, but new ones were inherently suspicious.

This was not simply scapegoating. It was the classification of Christianity as an unlawful religion — a precedent that would echo for decades.


Nero’s Persecution Compared with the Stoics

It is true that Nero also executed Stoic philosophers like Seneca and Thrasea Paetus. But there is a difference. The Stoics were influential individuals silenced for their independence. The Christians were rounded up in “a vast multitude” and condemned as a whole movement.

Nero’s persecution was not just the removal of a few dissidents. It was the criminalization of a religion.


The Precedent That Shaped the Next Half-Century

By defining Christians as a separate, new superstition, Nero set a precedent every emperor from Nero to Trajan would inherit:

  1. Christians could no longer claim Jewish exemptions.
  2. As a superstitio nova, Christianity was inherently unlawful.
  3. Governors had freedom to punish Christians whenever accusations arose.

This principle explains why, fifty years later, the governor Pliny the Younger could interrogate and execute Christians simply for the name — and why Emperor Trajan confirmed that policy. What began in Nero’s gardens would be codified in imperial correspondence.


The Martyrdom of Peter and Paul

Early Christian sources agree that Peter and Paul died in Nero’s persecution.

  • Dionysius of Corinth: “Peter and Paul… were martyred at the same time.”
  • Tertullian: “After having cruelly put to death Peter and Paul…”
  • Eusebius: “Paul was beheaded in Rome itself, and Peter likewise was crucified under Nero.”
  • Acts of Paul (late 2nd c.): Paul told Nero, “You will stand before the judgment seat of God,” before being beheaded outside the city.

Other Traditional Martyrs Under Nero

  • Linus – Peter’s successor; said to be martyred in Rome (Liber Pontificalis).
  • Mark the Evangelist – tradition places his death in Alexandria during Nero’s reign.
  • Trophimus and Eutychus – companions of Paul; later traditions connect them to Nero’s persecution.
  • Processus and Martinian – Roman guards who converted and were executed (Acts of Peter and Paul).

Conclusion

Under Nero (AD 54–68), Christianity became an illegal religion — not because it was violent, but because it was new, exclusive, and refused Rome’s gods.

  • Roman historians confirm the scale and cruelty of the persecution.
  • Christian writers affirm that Peter and Paul were among the victims.
  • Roman law explains why Christians were targeted apart from Jews.

The precedent Nero set would outlive him. For the next half-century, Christians lived under the same vulnerability — a reality spelled out with chilling clarity in the letters of Pliny and Trajan, which we will explore in a future post.

Claudius, the Jews, and the Window for the Gospel (AD 41–54)

Introduction

When Caligula was assassinated in AD 41, the empire teetered between chaos and reform.
The Senate debated restoring the Republic, but the Praetorian Guard made their choice: they found Claudius, uncle to Caligula, hiding behind a curtain in the palace, and proclaimed him emperor.
He would reign from AD 41 to 54 — thirteen years that gave the early church unprecedented space to grow.

Claudius was no outsider to Rome’s first imperial family.
He was the step-grandson of Augustus through Augustus’ marriage to Livia Drusilla, the grandmother who raised him.
This Julio-Claudian lineage tied Claudius directly to the imperial tradition of Julius Caesar and Augustus — and under his rule, he would restore and reaffirm the protections for the Jews that both men had supported.

Roman historians describe Claudius as bookish, awkward, and underestimated — the butt of jokes in his own family. Yet when given the throne, he proved unexpectedly competent, bringing stability after years of volatility.

For the Jewish people — and for the Christians still seen as part of Judaism — this meant an abrupt reversal from Caligula’s threats.
Claudius restored and reaffirmed the privileges and protections for Jewish communities that had first been granted by Julius Caesar and confirmed by Augustus.
This meant legal recognition of their right to keep the Sabbath, follow their food laws, send offerings to the Temple, and live according to their ancestral customs.

It was during these years that Paul completed all three missionary journeys and wrote his earliest letters, as recorded in the book of Acts.


Christians Were Still Seen as Jews

In the early 40s AD, Rome still made no distinction between Jews and Christians.
The followers of Jesus worshiped in synagogues and kept many Jewish customs.
Their legal standing was tied to that of the Jewish people.

That meant that Claudius’ actions to protect Jewish rights automatically extended to Christians as well.
The legal umbrella was still intact.


Claudius’ Letter to the Alexandrians

Shortly after taking power, Claudius addressed a violent conflict between Jews and Greeks in Alexandria — the same city where Philo had once pleaded with Caligula for relief.
Claudius sent a decree restoring order and reaffirming Jewish rights.

Josephus, Antiquities 19.278–285 (c. AD 93):
“Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, imperator, consul, tribune of the people, to the city of the Alexandrians, greeting.

I have long been aware of the troubles which have existed in your city between the Jewish and the Greek inhabitants, and of the recent outbreaks that occurred under my predecessor Gaius. Now, having become emperor, and desiring to settle these disturbances, I issue this decree.

I therefore command the Greeks and the Jews who live in the same city not to engage in further unrest or unlawful behavior toward one another.

The Jews shall not again be expelled from Alexandria, nor shall their rights be diminished, but they are to continue to inhabit the city in accordance with their ancestral customs.

They are not to bring in or admit Jews from Syria or Egypt as new settlers in the city, but only those who already reside there may continue in peace.

I strictly forbid them to hold public meetings except in accordance with their ancestral customs and only in those places officially assigned to them — meaning their synagogues.

Furthermore, I order that no one shall insult them or interfere with their observance of the Sabbath, or any of their other traditional rites and customs.

They are to enjoy all the rights and privileges they formerly had under Augustus and the other emperors.

If anyone violates this order — Jew or Greek — I shall take vengeance on them as a disturber of the peace, no matter what nation they belong to.”

This was one of Claudius’ very first acts as emperor — a clear break from Caligula’s religious aggression and a deliberate restoration of the policies of Julius Caesar and Augustus.


Claudius’ General Decree to the Provinces

Claudius didn’t stop with Alexandria. He issued a broader decree to all the provinces, making protection of Jewish customs an imperial policy.

Josephus, Antiquities 19.286–291:
“Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, imperator and consul for the second time, issues the following decree:

Since I am fully persuaded that the Jewish people — not only in Alexandria but throughout the entire world — have increased in numbers and are living with prosperity,

and since they have continually demonstrated loyalty to us and to our ancestors, especially in matters of religion and public conduct,

I judge it right that they should be permitted to continue in observance of their ancestral customs without interference.

Therefore I order that the same privileges granted to them from the time of Augustus — and after him by my father Drusus and my brother Germanicus — be fully maintained in all the cities under Roman rule.

I command that no one shall molest them or compel them to abandon their customs, particularly concerning:
— the keeping of the Sabbath,
— their food laws,
— and their sending of offerings to the Temple in Jerusalem.

In these matters, the Jews are not to be harassed or charged with offenses, so long as they continue in their loyalty and orderly conduct.”

This decree explicitly names Augustus as the source of these rights — and Augustus had been continuing what Julius Caesar had already put in place decades earlier. Claudius was not inventing new privileges; he was reinforcing a long-standing imperial policy that gave Jews, and by extension early Christians, freedom to practice their faith.


The Rome Expulsion

Despite his protections for Jewish customs, Claudius would not tolerate unrest in the capital.
Around AD 49 or 50, disturbances among the Jewish population in Rome led to a sweeping expulsion.

Acts 18:2:
“There he met a Jew named Aquila, a native of Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla, because Claudius had ordered all the Jews to leave Rome.”

Suetonius, Life of Claudius 25.4 (c. AD 110–130):
“Since the Jews constantly made disturbances at the instigation of Chrestus, he expelled them from Rome.”

“Chrestus” is almost certainly a misunderstanding of “Christus” — Christ. The unrest likely involved disputes within the Jewish community over Jesus as the Messiah.

Among those expelled were Aquila and Priscilla, who were already Christians when Paul met them in Corinth. Acts never records their conversion; they immediately appear as trusted co-laborers in ministry.

Christianity had, by this point, already reached Rome before Paul ever visited. Paul confirms this in Romans 1:8, writing, “Your faith is being reported all over the world.” The church in Rome likely began through Jewish believers who had been in Jerusalem at Pentecost (Acts 2:10) and carried the gospel back home.


What Was Happening in the Church?

Claudius’ reign was one of the most formative in early church history:

  • James the brother of John was martyred c. AD 44
    • Emperor: Claudius
    • Official: Herod Agrippa I (Acts 12:1–2)
  • Peter was arrested, likely to be executed next (Acts 12:3–11)
  • Paul’s First Missionary Journey: AD 46–48 (Acts 13–14)
  • The Jerusalem Council: AD 49 (Acts 15)
  • Paul’s Second Missionary Journey: AD 49–52 (Acts 15:36–18:22)
  • Paul tried before Gallio, Roman proconsul of Achaia (Acts 18:12–17)
  • Paul’s Third Missionary Journey: AD 52–54 (Acts 18:23–21:16)

Paul’s Letters During Claudius’ Reign

Several of Paul’s letters were written under Claudius:

  • Galatians – c. AD 48–49, likely between the first and second journeys, addressing the push to require Gentile Christians to keep the Mosaic Law.
  • 1 Thessalonians – c. AD 50–51, written from Corinth during the second journey to encourage a persecuted young church.
  • 1 Corinthians – c. AD 53–54, written from Ephesus during the third journey to address division, immorality, and doctrinal confusion.

Persecution Continued Under Claudius

Although Claudius’ reign provided legal protection through Judaism’s recognized status, Paul’s own letters from this period show that persecution was an ongoing expectation and reality for the church.

In Galatians, Paul warns against compromising the gospel under pressure from those demanding Gentile believers keep the law (Galatians 1:6–10; 4:29).
In 1 Thessalonians, he commends the believers for standing firm in the face of suffering: “You suffered from your own people the same things those churches of God suffered from the Jews” (1 Thessalonians 2:14).
In 1 Corinthians, he speaks of apostles being “condemned to die in the arena” and “made a spectacle to the whole universe” (1 Corinthians 4:9).

This persecution came from multiple directions —

  • Jewish authorities, as seen in Paul’s repeated synagogue expulsions (Acts 13:45–50; 14:2–6; 17:5–9).
  • Local Gentile opposition, stirred up by economic or religious concerns (Acts 16:19–24; 19:23–41).
  • And from rulers like Herod Agrippa I, who executed James the brother of John and imprisoned Peter in Jerusalem during Claudius’ reign (Acts 12:1–3).

Even in this window of stability, Paul and the churches he planted understood that following Christ meant sharing in his sufferings — a reality they embraced alongside the rapid spread of the gospel.


The Crucial Window: Caligula to Nero

Between Caligula’s threats to desecrate the Temple and Nero’s fire in AD 64 came a rare 13-year window of stability under Claudius.
In that time:

  • Paul completed all three missionary journeys.
  • The gospel spread across Syria, Galatia, Macedonia, and Achaia.
  • The first New Testament letters were written.
  • The church began to define the gospel for both Jew and Gentile.
  • Christianity had already reached Rome before Paul arrived, and the church there was strong enough for him to say their faith was known “all over the world” (Romans 1:8).

Had Claudius ruled like Caligula — or had Nero come to power earlier — the story could have been very different.


Conclusion

Claudius died in AD 54, likely poisoned by his wife Agrippina.
Her son, Nero, became emperor.
And under Nero, the fire would start.

But for just over a decade, the church had room to grow — protected under the legal status of Judaism, traveling freely across the empire, planting congregations, writing the Scriptures that would anchor the Christian faith, and enduring persecution with the expectation that it was part of following Christ.

Why Even Atheist Historians Believe in John the Baptist

What kind of world crucified Jesus—and why do even atheist historians agree that John the Baptist was real? This post explores the reign of Emperor Tiberius (AD 14–37) and the volatile political and religious landscape of Judea under Roman rule. It was during this time that both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth were executed. And just one year later, Paul the Apostle was converted. Drawing on the writings of Josephus, Philo, and Tacitus, we’ll see how Rome responded to charismatic Jewish voices—and how their attempts to silence those voices only fueled the Christian movement.


“Now in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…”

That line from Luke 3:1 grounds the Gospel narrative in historical time. Tiberius ruled from AD 14 to 37. The fifteenth year corresponds to AD 28 or 29. Pontius Pilate was the governor of Judea. And John the Baptist was already preaching in the wilderness.


John the Baptist: A Voice Rome Couldn’t Ignore

Historians—including secular and even atheist scholars—agree that John the Baptist is one of the most historically verifiable figures from the New Testament. Why?

  • He’s documented in multiple independent sources: all four Gospels and the writings of Josephus, a Jewish historian with no sympathy for Christianity.
  • He presents a “criterion of embarrassment”—Jesus submits to baptism by John, which would suggest moral inferiority. The early church wouldn’t have invented that.
  • His role fits perfectly into first-century Jewish culture, when prophetic voices were seen as potential threats under Roman occupation.
  • His preaching content cited by Josephus matches what the Gospel accounts share as well.

Josephus was born in AD 37, just a few years after John’s death. He would have grown up among people who had heard John preach. Here’s Josephus’s full account:

“Now some of the Jews thought that the destruction of Herod’s army came from God, and that it was a very just punishment for what he had done against John, who was called the Baptist. For Herod had killed this good man, who had exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice toward their fellows and piety toward God, and so doing join in baptism. In his view this was a necessary preliminary if baptism was to be acceptable to God. They must not employ it to gain pardon for whatever sins they committed, but as a consecration of the body, implying that the soul was already cleansed by right behavior.

When others too joined the crowds about him because they were aroused to the highest degree by his sermons, Herod became alarmed. Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would do everything he counseled. Herod decided, therefore, that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him than to wait until a disturbance broke out and he had to act when it was too late. Because of Herod’s suspicions, John was sent in chains to the fortress of Machaerus, which we have previously mentioned, and there put to death. The Jews, to this day, hold that the destruction of his army was a punishment sent upon Herod by God, a mark of his disapproval of what he had done against John.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.5.2

John was not a violent revolutionary. He called people to repentance and moral renewal. But Herod Antipas feared his influence. The people were ready to “do everything he counseled.” In a Roman client state, that was enough to warrant execution.


Pilate Provokes—and Then Bows to Pressure

Pontius Pilate, appointed by Tiberius, governed Judea from AD 26 to 36. He was known for provoking Jewish unrest. Here’s how Josephus describes one early incident, when Pilate introduced Roman standards bearing Caesar’s image into Jerusalem:

“But now Pilate, the procurator of Judaea, brought into Jerusalem by night and under cover the effigies of Caesar that are called standards. The next day this caused a great uproar among the Jews. Those who were shocked by the incident went in a body to Pilate at Caesarea and for many days begged him to remove the standards from Jerusalem. When he refused, they fell to the ground and remained motionless for five days and nights. On the sixth day Pilate took his seat on the tribunal in the great stadium and summoned the multitude, as if he meant to grant their petition. Instead, he gave a signal to the soldiers to surround the Jews, and threatened to cut them down unless they stopped pressing their petition. But they threw themselves on the ground and bared their necks, shouting that they would welcome death rather than the violation of their laws. Deeply impressed by their religious fervor, Pilate ordered the standards to be removed from Jerusalem.”
—Josephus, Antiquities 18.3.1

Thousands of Jews lay on the ground, necks exposed, ready to die. Pilate backed down. But this moment revealed his tendency to provoke until things nearly exploded.

Philo also describes Pilate’s recklessness—this time involving golden shields inscribed with the emperor’s name:

“Pilate, who had been appointed prefect of Judaea, displayed the shields in Herod’s palace in the Holy City. They bore no image—only an inscription. But when the people learned what had been done, and realized that their laws had been trampled underfoot, they petitioned Pilate to remove the shields. He steadfastly refused. Then they took the matter to Tiberius, who was indignant that Pilate had dared to offend religious sentiments and ordered him by letter to remove the shields immediately and transfer them to Caesarea.”
—Philo, Embassy to Gaius, §§299–305

Pilate was politically clumsy and religiously tone-deaf. But this is the man who would oversee the crucifixion of Jesus.


Tacitus Confirms the Crucifixion

Even Tacitus, the great Roman historian, confirms the execution of Jesus—and notes that Rome failed to stop what it had begun:

“Christus, the founder of the name, had undergone the death penalty in the reign of Tiberius, by sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilatus, and the pernicious superstition was checked for a moment, only to break out once more, not merely in Judea, the home of the disease, but in the capital itself, where all things horrible or shameful in the world collect and find a vogue.”
—Tacitus, Annals 15.44

This phrase—“checked for a moment”—reveals Rome’s belief that the crucifixion had ended the Jesus movement. But instead, it spread.

Tacitus calls Christianity a “pernicious superstition”—a key Roman legal category.


Religio vs. Superstitio: Why Rome Saw Christians as Dangerous

To the Roman mind:

  • Religio referred to official, ancestral, state-sponsored worship—gods like Jupiter or Mars, or the emperor himself.
  • Superstitio meant foreign, irrational, and unauthorized religion—often seen as destabilizing.

By labeling Christianity as a superstition rather than a religio, Tacitus reveals how Rome legally and socially marginalized the movement. It wasn’t just false—it was disruptive and subversive.

“Let the very mention of the cross be far removed not only from the body of a Roman citizen, but from his thoughts, his eyes, his ears.”
—Cicero, Against Verres 2.5.168

The cross was something to be erased from polite society. But the early Christians made it the centerpiece of their message.


AD 31: The Conversion of Paul

In AD 31, just one year after Jesus was crucified, Saul of Tarsus—a Roman citizen and a Pharisee—was converted. He would become Paul the Apostle, and his letters would one day be copied across the empire.


Conclusion: “Checked for the Moment”

When Tiberius died in AD 37, John the Baptist had been silenced, Jesus had been crucified, and Paul had been converted. Rome thought it had preserved peace. But instead, it had launched a kingdom that would spread from Judea to the capital.

Tacitus said the movement was “checked for the moment.”

But that moment didn’t last.

When Philosophy Clashed with the Cross: Gentile Rejections of the Christ Hymn

In Philippians 2:6–11, one of the earliest Christian hymns declares a staggering paradox: that Jesus Christ, “being in very nature God,” humbled himself to become human and die on a cross—only to be exalted and receive divine worship. This exalted Christ Hymn wasn’t a late invention. It shaped the faith of the first Christians and the apostles themselves.

But not everyone accepted that message.

Historical evidence shows that in the first century, only four divergent movements challenged the apostolic view of Christ. Just one of them—the Nazarenes—existed before 70 AD, and they still affirmed Jesus’ divinity. The other three arose later, as responses from Jewish and Greco-Roman worlds that struggled to accept the core paradox of the Christ Hymn: that the eternal God became human and suffered.


A Quick Recap: The Jewish Divergents

The Nazarenes and Ebionites were early Jewish-Christian groups primarily based in Judea and later Pella. While the Nazarenes affirmed Christ’s divinity, the Ebionites denied it completely, rejected Paul, and altered Matthew’s Gospel to support their theology.

But outside Judea, new challenges arose—fueled by Greek philosophy, mystical speculation, and a deep discomfort with a suffering God.


Cerinthus (c. 80 AD): A Divinity Too High to Suffer

Cerinthus lived in Asia Minor and was shaped by Egyptian education, Jewish thought, and Platonic dualism. These influences led him to deny that a divine being could fully enter the material world, let alone suffer on a cross. His solution? Separate the divine “Christ” from the human Jesus.

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 1.26.1 (c. 180 AD):
“He represented Jesus as having not been born of a virgin… while Christ descended upon him at his baptism, and then departed again before the Passion.”

Epiphanius – Panarion 28.2.1–2 (c. 375 AD):
“Cerinthus… opposed the apostles… especially Paul… and said that it was not right to accept the epistles of Paul.”

Cerinthus also rejected the idea that the supreme God created the world:

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 1.26.1:
“He asserted that the world was not made by the primary God, but by a certain Power far separated from Him…”

This idea reflected Platonic thought:

Philo of Alexandria – On the Creation (c. 20 BC–50 AD):
“It is not lawful to suppose that the supreme God comes into contact with any corruptible thing.”

Plutarch – On Isis and Osiris (c. 100 AD):
“Matter… being evil, could not have been made by a good God… The world must have been fashioned by an inferior deity.”

Cerinthus even promoted false writings under apostolic names:

Eusebius – Ecclesiastical History 3.28.2 (c. 310 AD, quoting Caius of Rome):
“Cerinthus… made use of revelations which he pretended were written by a great apostle…”

Epiphanius – Panarion 28.4.1:
“Cerinthus used only the Gospel according to the Hebrews… He rejected the Apostle Paul completely.”

Most memorably, John the Apostle wanted nothing to do with him:

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 3.3.4:
“John… perceiving Cerinthus within [a bathhouse], rushed out… exclaiming, ‘Let us flee, lest even the bath-house fall down!’”

Cerinthus didn’t simply interpret Jesus differently—he broke entirely from the apostolic tradition, rejected Paul, replaced the Gospels, and rewrote the story. His system preserved a lofty divinity but could not accept that God became flesh—as the Christ Hymn declares.


Docetism (Rooted in the 80s, Expanding in the 2nd Century): Too Divine to Be Human

Where Cerinthus separated Christ from Jesus, Docetism denied Jesus’ humanity altogether. The name comes from dokein (“to seem”)—Jesus only appeared to suffer, appear in the flesh, or die.

John’s letters refute this directly:

1 John 4:2–3:
“Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God…”

2 John 7:
“Many deceivers… do not confess Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh. This is a deceiver and an antichrist.”

Docetists didn’t just reinterpret Jesus—they created new documents to promote their view. Here are three major examples:


🔹 Gospel of Peter (late 1st–early 2nd century)

“[Jesus] kept silent as feeling no pain… The Lord cried aloud, ‘My Power, my Power, you have forsaken me!’ And having said it, He was taken up.”

In this account, Jesus’ suffering is denied and his death portrayed as a moment of spiritual release. The body remains, but the divine presence departs—typical of Docetic theology.

Serapion of Antioch – Ecclesiastical History 6.12.6 (c. 190 AD):
“The writings which falsely bear their names we reject, knowing that such were not handed down to us.”


🔹 Acts of John (late 2nd century)

“Sometimes when I walked with him, I would try to touch his body, but it was immaterial… he left no footprints on the ground.”

This portrayal of Jesus as ghostlike reinforces Docetism’s core claim: Jesus’ physicality was a divine illusion.


🔹 Gospel of Judas (late 2nd century)

Though it bears the name of one of Jesus’ disciples, the Gospel of Judas radically reimagines the story of Jesus from a Gnostic and Docetic perspective. In this account, Jesus laughs at the ignorance of his disciples, praises Judas for helping him escape his fleshly prison, and teaches a cosmic creation myth where the true God is utterly separate from the material world.

Gospel of Judas 33.10–11:
“Often he did not appear to his disciples as himself, but he was found among them as a child.”

Here, Jesus is portrayed as a shapeshifter, one whose form is unstable and deceptive. This aligns with Docetic views that Jesus’ physical appearance was an illusion—not essential to his being.

Jesus then teaches that the world was created not by the high God, but by rebellious lower angels:

Gospel of Judas 47.1–9:
“Come, that I may teach you about the [secrets] no person has ever seen. For there exists a great and boundless realm… A luminous cloud appeared there. He said, ‘Let an angel come into being as my attendant.’”

Gospel of Judas 51.1–8:
“Let twelve angels come into being to rule over chaos… An angel appeared whose face flashed with fire… His name was Nebro, which means ‘rebel’; others call him Yaldabaoth. Another angel, Saklas, also came from the cloud.”

Then comes a twisted echo of Genesis:

Gospel of Judas 52.10–11:
“Saklas said to his angels, ‘Let us create a human being after the likeness and the image.’”

Here, the creation of humanity is attributed to fallen or ignorant beings—echoing Cerinthus’s own view that the world was created by a lesser, ignorant power.

Finally, Jesus tells Judas:

Gospel of Judas 56.18–20:
“You will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.”

The crucifixion isn’t seen as atonement but escape from a fleshly shell. This is Docetism to its core.

Ignatius – Smyrnaeans 2.1 (c. 110 AD):
“He truly suffered… not as certain unbelievers say, that he suffered in appearance only.”

Ignatius – Trallians 10.1:
“Be deaf… to anyone who speaks apart from Jesus Christ… who was truly born… truly crucified…”


Conclusion: Rewriting the Story

The Nazarenes, Ebionites, Cerinthians, and Docetists are the only four divergent groups we have clear evidence for in the first century. Only the Nazarenes remained loyal to the divine Jesus of the Christ Hymn.

The other three:

  • Couldn’t accept the full mystery of Christ as fully divine and fully human.
  • Rejected the apostolic witness—especially Paul—and altered or replaced canonical texts.
  • Wrote their own “gospels” and “acts” to support their alternative visions of Jesus.

They didn’t represent equal versions of early Christianity. They were reactions to it—distortions of the message that had already been “handed down” and “received.”

“Who, being in the form of God… emptied Himself… became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him…”
(Philippians 2:6–9)

That is the Jesus the apostles preached. That is the Jesus the earliest believers worshiped.

Divergence from Christ’s Divinity: What the First-Century Evidence Actually Shows

Welcome to Living the Bible, where we examine the Bible and church history to guide our everyday living. I’m Jason Conrad.

In our previous post, we explored the Christ Hymn of Philippians 2:6–11—a poetic confession that predates Paul’s letters and proclaims Jesus’ divine pre-existence, incarnation, death, and exaltation. This hymn is powerful because it reflects what Christians were already saying and singing about Jesus before the Gospels were written.

But if this high Christology was the original belief, how soon did it face opposition? Were there really many versions of Jesus circulating in the first century, as some modern scholars suggest?

This post will take you directly to the earliest sources, not later summaries or theories. What we find is that, far from a chaotic diversity of Christianities, we see one core proclamation of a divine Christ—and only four identifiable groups that diverged from it during the first century. And even among these, only one group clearly denied Christ’s divinity.


The Nazarenes – 40s AD

Law-Observant Believers Who Affirmed Christ’s Divinity

The Nazarenes are the earliest group to diverge from the apostolic church—not in their view of Jesus, but in their insistence on continued Torah observance. They appear to be the group on the losing side of the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15:

“But some of the sect of the Pharisees who believed rose up, saying, ‘It is necessary to circumcise them and to command them to keep the law of Moses.’” (Acts 15:5)

Though the Council determined that Gentiles were not bound to keep the Law, these Jewish believers did not abandon their heritage. The name “Nazarene,” which originally applied to all Christians (Acts 24:5), gradually came to refer specifically to Jewish Christians who continued observing the Mosaic Law.

James, the brother of Jesus and leader of the Jerusalem church, likely maintained peace and inclusion with these believers. His advice to Paul in Acts 21 seems designed to show the law-observant Jewish Christians that Paul respected their customs:

“You see, brother, how many myriads of Jews there are who have believed, and they are all zealous for the law… Therefore do what we tell you: We have four men who have taken a vow.” (Acts 21:20, 23)

Even though the Nazarenes clung to the Law, they never rejected the divinity of Christ.

Jerome’s Testimony (c. 398–403 AD)

Letter 75 to Augustine:

“The adherents to this sect are known commonly as Nazarenes; they believe in Christ the Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary; and they say that He who suffered under Pontius Pilate and rose again is the same as the one in whom we believe.”

Commentary on Isaiah 8:14:

“The Nazarenes… accept Messiah in such a way that they do not cease to observe the old Law.”

Jerome—writing after the ecumenical councils of Nicaea (325 AD) and Constantinople (381 AD) had carefully defined the Church’s doctrine of Christ’s divinity—still affirms that the Nazarenes believed in “the same” Jesus. This is profoundly important: after all the theological scrutiny of the early church, Jerome still saw their Christology as sound.

Epiphanius’ Ambivalence – Panarion 29.7.5–6 (c. 375 AD)

“They are different from Jews, and different from Christians, only in the following ways. They disagree with Jews because of their belief in Christ; but they are not in accord with Christians because they are still fettered by the Law—circumcision, the Sabbath, and the rest.
As to Christ, I cannot say whether they too are misled by the wickedness of Cerinthus and Merinthus, and regard him as a mere man—or whether, as the truth is, they affirm that he was born of Mary by the Holy Spirit.”

This quote is remarkable. Epiphanius was infamous for aggressively labeling deviations as heresy. The fact that he admits he doesn’t know if the Nazarenes denied Christ’s divinity tells us a lot—if he had any evidence they denied it, he would have used it.


The Ebionites – After 70 AD

A Breakaway Group That Denied Christ’s Divinity

The Ebionites represent the earliest clearly documented group to reject the divinity of Jesus. Unlike the Nazarenes, they stripped away central elements of Christology—the virgin birth, the pre-existence of Christ, and the apostleship of Paul.

Their origins appear after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 AD, when Christians fled to Pella.

Eusebius – Ecclesiastical History 3.5.3 (c. 323 AD)

“But the people of the church in Jerusalem had been commanded by a revelation, vouchsafed to approved men there before the war, to leave the city and to dwell in a certain town of Peraea called Pella.”

Epiphanius – Panarion 29.7.7–8 (c. 375 AD)

“The Ebionites are later than the Nazoraeans, and they came after them. At first their sect began after the flight from Jerusalem, when all the disciples went to live in Pella because of Christ’s prophecy.”

So we can date the rise of the Ebionites to after 70 AD, not before. This was not just a chronological shift—it was a theological fracture. Where the Nazarenes remained within the church and affirmed Christ’s divinity, the Ebionites pulled away entirely, creating a group that:

  • Denied Jesus’ divinity
  • Rejected the virgin birth
  • Falsified Scripture
  • Rejected Paul as a false apostle

Irenaeus – Against Heresies 1.26.2 (c. 180 AD)

“They use the Gospel according to Matthew only, and repudiate the Apostle Paul, maintaining that he was an apostate from the Law.”

Origen – Commentary on Matthew 16.12 (c. 248 AD)

“The Ebionites believe that He was a mere man, born of Joseph and Mary according to the common course of nature, and that He became righteous through the progress of His moral character.”

Eusebius – Ecclesiastical History 3.27 (c. 323 AD)

“They considered Him a plain and common man… born of Mary and Joseph… justified only because of his progress in virtue.”

Epiphanius – Panarion 30.14.3 (c. 375 AD)

“They falsify the genealogical tables in Matthew’s Gospel… This is because they maintain that Jesus is really a man.”

This is key: they removed the virgin birth from Matthew, altering the Gospel to support their theology.

Epiphanius – Panarion 30.16.6–9

“They declare that [Paul] was a Greek… When he failed to get [a priest’s daughter], he flew into a rage and wrote against circumcision and against the sabbath and the Law.”

In contrast to all other groups, the Ebionites knew they were severing themselves from the apostolic church. They rejected Paul’s letters outright and manipulated Scripture to reflect their theology.

Their theology was not just a different emphasis—it was a deliberate break from the Christian movement centered around Jesus as divine.


Conclusion

This evidence confronts a popular scholarly claim: that early Christianity was a landscape of conflicting “Christianities.” What we actually see—based on the earliest surviving sources—is far more limited:

  • One unified apostolic church affirming Christ’s divine identity
  • One group (Nazarenes) that remained inside the church while emphasizing the Mosaic Law
  • One group (Ebionites) that, after 70 AD, openly rejected Christ’s divinity, Paul’s authority, and Gospel material

The others—Cerinthians and Docetists—will be covered in the next post, but neither appears before 70 AD. That means there is only one group we know of before 70 AD that diverged from the apostolic tradition—and they still upheld Christ’s divine nature.

Only after the fall of Jerusalem do we see the first deliberate rejection of Jesus’ divinity. And even then, it was just one group, not many.

In short: the myth of “many Christianities” in the first century is not supported by the evidence. The overwhelming testimony of early sources shows a consistent, early affirmation of Jesus as divine—proclaimed, preserved, and only slowly challenged as the church spread.

Christianity Before Paul: The Traditions He Inherited

Was the Apostle Paul the founder of Christianity?

Some critics think so. They argue that Paul transformed the ethical teachings of Jesus into a new religion focused on worshiping Jesus himself.

But when we turn to Paul’s own writings—especially his seven undisputed letters—we find something very different. Paul repeatedly emphasizes that the core beliefs of the Christian faith were not his invention. Instead, he insists he was passing on traditions that were already established in the church before he began his ministry.

This post explores those pre-Pauline traditions and how they directly challenge the idea that Paul “created” Christianity.


The Claim: Paul Invented Christianity

Many modern scholars—especially those skeptical of the Christian faith—assert that Paul is responsible for transforming Jesus into the object of worship.

“The religion of Jesus was transformed into a religion about Jesus. This transformation was largely the work of the apostle Paul.”
— Bart D. Ehrman, Peter, Paul and Mary Magdalene (2006), p. 124

“Paul was the founder of Christianity as a new religion which broke away from Judaism… Jesus himself had no intention of founding a new religion.”
— Hyam Maccoby, The Mythmaker: Paul and the Invention of Christianity (1986), p. 15

But what does Paul say about this in his own letters?


A Pre-Existing Creed: 1 Corinthians 15:3–8

One of the most important passages in all of Paul’s letters is found in 1 Corinthians 15, where he writes:

“For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once… After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles. Then last of all He was seen by me also, as by one born out of due time.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:3–8 (NKJV)

Paul’s use of the Greek verbs παραλαμβάνω (“I received”) and παραδίδωμι (“I delivered”) are not casual. These were technical terms for handing down authoritative teaching—especially in rabbinic Judaism.

“Paul explicitly says that he ‘received’ and ‘delivered’ the gospel, using the terminology of the transmission of tradition. This is how Jewish rabbis passed down teachings: from master to disciple.”
— E.P. Sanders, Paul: A Very Short Introduction (2001), p. 50

Even Bart Ehrman acknowledges this:

“Paul is not inventing the creed in 1 Corinthians 15:3–5; he is quoting it. The use of terms like ‘received’ and ‘delivered’ show that it was already being passed on as a tradition.”
— Ehrman, The New Testament (2016), p. 333

Multiple scholars agree that this creed originated within a few years of Jesus’ crucifixion, long before Paul’s letters were written.

“This is the earliest Christian tradition we have. It goes back at least to the early 30s—just a few years after Jesus died.”
— Ehrman, Did Jesus Exist? (2012), p. 230

“The elements in the tradition are to be dated to the first two years after the crucifixion of Jesus… not later than three years.”
— Gerd Lüdemann, The Resurrection of Jesus (1994), p. 38

“The creed in 1 Corinthians 15 must predate Paul. He’s clearly quoting an existing Christian formula.”
— Richard Carrier, On the Historicity of Jesus (2014), p. 536


The Lord’s Supper Tradition: 1 Corinthians 11:23–26

Paul also uses this same tradition language in 1 Corinthians 11, where he recounts Jesus’ words at the Last Supper:

“For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you…” (v. 23)

Even though Paul says he received this “from the Lord,” most scholars interpret this to mean from the Christian tradition about the Lord—not a direct revelation. The language and structure of the passage closely mirror what later appears in Luke 22, indicating that a standardized Eucharistic tradition was already being observed by early Christians before the Gospels were written.

“Paul is recounting a tradition. These were words of Jesus that had already been passed down.”
— Ehrman, The New Testament (2016), p. 333


Tradition Throughout Paul’s Letters

Paul’s other letters confirm the same pattern:

  • Galatians 1:9 – “If anyone preaches any other gospel than what you have received…”
  • Philippians 4:9 – “What you learned and received and heard and saw in me…”
  • Romans 6:17 – “That form of doctrine to which you were delivered…”

Paul consistently uses the language of handing on tradition—not creating it.


The Cultural Context: Jewish and Greco-Roman Parallels

This kind of tradition-based language was not unique to Paul. Both Jewish and Greco-Roman cultures emphasized the faithful transmission of teachings—often using similar terminology.

Jewish Examples

  • Josephus wrote: “…no one has been so bold as either to add anything to them, or to take anything from them, or to make any change in them… And these books have been handed down to us (παραδεδομένα).”
    Against Apion 1.8
  • Mishnah Avot 1:1 teaches: “Moses received the Torah from Sinai and handed it to Joshua, and Joshua to the elders…”

Greco-Roman Examples

  • Epictetus, the Stoic philosopher, said: “Have you not heard the philosophers say that certain doctrines have been handed down to us?”
    Discourses 1.9.13
  • Polybius, the Greek historian, commented: “I will not hand down (παραδώσω) this report unless I have verified it from multiple sources.”
    Histories 12.25e
  • Quintilian, the Roman rhetorician, emphasized continuity of instruction: “Our rhetorical training is drawn from principles passed down by our predecessors, and we must preserve their methods faithfully.”
    Institutio Oratoria, Preface

Whether written in Greek, Hebrew, or Latin, these texts reflect a shared cultural assumption: important knowledge is preserved by faithfully receiving and handing it on—not inventing it.

That’s exactly how Paul frames his gospel message—using the same vocabulary and logic respected by his Jewish and Gentile audiences alike.


Conclusion: The Real Origin of Christianity

Paul’s letters are the earliest Christian writings we have—but the message they proclaim is even older.

Even scholars who reject the Christian faith affirm that these traditions go back to the earliest days of the Jesus movement—before Paul’s letters, before his ministry, and even before his conversion.

And that’s where skeptical theories run into a contradiction.

Critics like Ehrman and Maccoby want to say that Paul created Christianity. But they also affirm that creeds, hymns, Eucharistic practices, and resurrection proclamations were already circulating before Paul ever wrote a letter.

That raises an important point:

If Paul is simply repeating and passing along what early Christians already believed and practiced, he was not the creator of Christianity.

What Paul gives us is not innovation, but transmission.
Not invention, but inheritance.

So if you want to know what the first Christians believed, you don’t start with the Gospels.
You don’t even really start with Paul’s letters.
You start with the creeds, poems, hymns, and traditions that Paul refers to in his letters to capture Christianity immediately after the crucifixion.

These are the oldest strands of the Christian faith—and they directly contradict the idea that Paul was its architect.
Instead, he was its most faithful messenger.