The Archeology of the Kingdom of God: Diving a Bit Deeper into a Baha'i Approach to Metaphysics

You're the one that links pneuma to 'star-stuff', not Paul.

The connection between pneuma and celestial bodies is in Paul.

As Paula Fredriksen notes, ancient peoples often associated stars and planets with divine beings:

"Who are these many 'gods' and 'lords'? We might look, first, to the stars and planets encircling the earth, divine intelligences for all ancient peoples."

Similarly, David Litwa points out that Paul's use of the term "glory" (δόξα) to describe heavenly bodies suggests a connection between physical bodies and spiritual substance. Pneuma, as a subtle, ethereal substance, is often associated with divine beings and heavenly bodies. By connecting pneuma to celestial bodies, Paul may have been drawing on both Jewish and Greek philosophical traditions. The the concept of a "glory body" was intelligible to Jewish audiences, while the concept of pneuma was more familiar to Greek audiences.

"When Paul talked about the bodies of earthly beings, he used the term 'flesh'. When he turned to heavenly bodies, he used the term 'glory'. Though δόξα may simply mean 'brightness' or 'illumination,' there is a strong indication that in this context, δόξα is meant to contrast directly with σὰρξ in verse 39. If σὰρξ is the substance of earthly bodies, then δόξα is the brilliance of pneumatic bodies. A pneumatic body is a glory body. Pneuma, like the aether, shines. Just as Christ is pneuma (1 Cor 15.45), he has a body of glory (Phil 3.21). To receive a pneumatic body is to gain a body of glory like the divine Christ. These glory bodies can, to be sure, be on heaven or on earth (1 Cor 15.40), but their chief location is in heaven where the δόξα-bodies - sun, moon, stars - shine according to their purity or 'weight of δόξα' (15.41; cf. 2 Cor 4.17). Engberg-Pederson's comments are apropos here: 'A 'psychic' body belongs on earth as exemplified by the 'earthly bodies' mentioned in [1 Cor] 15.39; a 'pneumatic body' is a heavenly body like the sun, moon, and stars."
-David Litwa

In a later note Litwa states: "Why does Paul not speak directly of glorification in 1 Cor 15? Although glorification and the 'glory body' was intelligible to a Jewish audience (or those familiar with the Jewish heritage), it would seem to be less intelligible to the Greek one. Paul's 'pneumatic body' may be an attempt to redescribe the concept of 'glory' in terms intelligible to Greek physics. The closest physical concept to corporeal 'glory' was the Stoic pneuma: an ethereal, fiery, fine, subtle substance, not subject to decay. Since it existed in the heavens, pneuma was envisioned as a bright or luminous body. Such was the substance of the Stoic soul - and, as it turns out, also the substance of stars."
 
But we're clearly talking about a super-natural event.

Super-natural events are all relative. What is considered supernatural to one person may be a natural occurrence to another. For instance, in many ancient cultures, natural phenomena like lightning and earthquakes were attributed to divine or supernatural forces . . .
 
But the tomb was empty, there were no remains.


Clearly not.
The guards had some explaining as to why there was no body of the Bab in the moat as well. Leave it in a known tomb, and the body would have been desecrated. The same happened to all known graves of Bahai Martyrs.

It's logical it was removed to a more secret location. Some time ago, when I did some research on it, I found quite a few theories as to where.

Regards Tony
 
Well it's nigh-on impossible to conceive he thought otherwise, based on the text.

Mark is deeply rooted in Jewish and Greco-Roman cultural and religious traditions. The disappearance of a body was often interpreted as a sign of divine ascent or translation to the heavenly realm, and such stories were fairly common. The empty tomb can be seen as a symbol of Jesus' exaltation to divine status, not a literal physical resurrection. I would consider the historical and cultural context in which these texts were written and interpreted; I would advise against reading it like a newspaper.

No matter the culture or time period we are living in, we can interpret the empty tomb the following way to keep it relevant: Christ's disappearance and subsequent reappearance can be interpreted as a symbolic representation of the spiritual renewal and revitalization of His teachings.
 
I have never said the transformed body will be subject to mortality or decay.

Christ's risen body was clearly not a 'body', not flesh as we are flesh, but it was more than just an apparition.
 
The guards had some explaining as to why there was no body of the Bab in the moat as well. Leave it in a known tomb, and the body would have been desecrated. The same happened to all known graves of Bahai Martyrs.
You can't project local contingency back some 2,000 years as a valid explanation of unrecorded events. I don't think desecration was recorded then. There were robberies, and even bodies stolen ... but in the latter case usually of perceived 'holy men' who's corpses were taken for necromancy or other magical purposes.

Some time ago, when I did some research on it, I found quite a few theories as to where.
Oh, sure ...

The Gospel of Matthew records a 'stolen body hypothesis' in Chapter 28.

The Gospel of John has Mary's more plaintive "They have taken him away" (John 209:11-15).

But they remain hypotheticals.
 
Mark is deeply rooted in Jewish and Greco-Roman cultural and religious traditions. The disappearance of a body was often interpreted as a sign of divine ascent or translation to the heavenly realm, and such stories were fairly common.
Were they?

N.T Wright's Resurrection of the Son of God argues that the resurrection of Jesus had no clear parallel in ancient times. More specifically, to the point of deifying emperors and their souls ascending to heaven, he writes in summary:
“…who were the dead? They were humans who, through quite extraordinary lives, had shown themselves either worthy of translation to divine status or perhaps to have been all along a divine being in disguise. Where were they? In the heavenly home of the immortal gods; perhaps among the stars. They had not, however, been raised from the dead. Cicero is quite clear and completely in the mainstream of greco-roman thought: the body is a prison-house. A necessary one for the moment; but nobody in their right mind, having got rid of it, would want it or something like it back again. At no point in the spectrum of option about life after death did the ancient pagan world envisage that the denials of Homer, Aeschylus and the rest would be overthrown. Resurrection was not an option”.
(p.60.)

“The fact that dead people do not ordinarily rise [from the dead] is itself part of early Christian belief…The early Christians insisted that what had happened to Jesus was precisely something new; was, indeed, the start of a whole new mode of existence, a new creation. The fact that Jesus’ resurrection was, and remains, without analogy is not an objection to the early Christian claim. It is a part of the claim itself” (Ibid, p712 emphasis in the text).

The empty tomb can be seen as a symbol of Jesus' exaltation to divine status, not a literal physical resurrection.
It can be, but it wasn't by Paul or the early community ... nor is it, in the Christian Tradition.

I would consider the historical and cultural context in which these texts were written and interpreted; I would advise against reading it like a newspaper.
LOL, if it were in a newspaper, I'd look for more reliable sources first!

No matter the culture or time period we are living in, we can interpret the empty tomb the following way to keep it relevant: Christ's disappearance and subsequent reappearance can be interpreted as a symbolic representation of the spiritual renewal and revitalization of His teachings.
We can interpret it how we like, but that doesn't make the interpretation valid, nor as meaningful as they might be.
 
The connection between pneuma and celestial bodies is in Paul.
Pneuma goes higher than celestial bodies, that was my point. Pneuma goes all the way up to God (cf John 4:24)

The Stoic scala naturae is a hierarchy of the powers in nature based on the activity and organization of the pneuma. Pneuma at its lowest level of organization and concentration produces simple cohesion in the matter in which it dwells; it holds together individual unified bodies. This state of cohesion and coherence is called hexis [cohesive state]. Bodies hold together on account of an internal flow of pneuma that begins at the center of the object extending to the surface and flowing back upon itself producing a tension from a two-way motion. Hence, even the most stable object possesses internal motion according to the Stoics. Wood and stones are example of things which possess hexis.

When the pneuma in a body is organized with a greater degree of activity, there is phusis or organic nature. Things that have phusis grow and reproduce but do not show signs of cognitive power. The pneuma that produces phusis also provides the stability or cohesion of hexis. The Stoics held that each power on this scala naturae subsumes the power below it. Plants are obvious examples of organisms that have both hexis and phusis but not soul.

The next tier of this hierarchy of pneumatic activity is soul [ psuchê]. The characteristic marks of this level of organization are the presence of impulse and perception. Non-rational animals have hexis [cohesive state], phusis [an organic nature], and psuchê [soul].

Only human beings and gods possess the highest level of pneumatic activity, reason [logos]. Reason was defined as a collection of conceptions and preconceptions; it is especially characterized by the use of language. In fact, the difference between how animals think and how humans think seems to be that human thinking is linguistic — not that we must vocalize thoughts (for parrots can articulate human sounds), but that human thinking seems to follow a syntactical and propositional structure in the manner of language. The Stoics considered thinking in rational animals as a form of internal speech.

Internet Encyclopaedia of Philosophy
 
I would consider the historical and cultural context in which these texts were written and interpreted; I would advise against reading it like a newspaper.
For a little while when I was a kid I speculated as to whether parts of the bible were newsletters or newspapers. I thought that is what people meant by "Word of God" not that God actually said or wrote most of the bible, as he is usually referred to in the third person (only occasionally in the first person but it's usually like he is being quoted rather than addressing the world) and of course sometimes addressed in second person in prayer in the Psalms.
(More on this kind of thing in my still developing "headcanon" thread, coming soon)
 
Were they?

Yep.

N.T Wright's Resurrection of the Son of God argues that the resurrection of Jesus had no clear parallel in ancient times. More specifically, to the point of deifying emperors and their souls ascending to heaven, he writes in summary:

“…who were the dead? They were humans who, through quite extraordinary lives, had shown themselves either worthy of translation to divine status or perhaps to have been all along a divine being in disguise. Where were they? In the heavenly home of the immortal gods; perhaps among the stars. They had not, however, been raised from the dead. Cicero is quite clear and completely in the mainstream of greco-roman thought: the body is a prison-house. A necessary one for the moment; but nobody in their right mind, having got rid of it, would want it or something like it back again. At no point in the spectrum of option about life after death did the ancient pagan world envisage that the denials of Homer, Aeschylus and the rest would be overthrown. Resurrection was not an option”. (p.60.)

“The fact that dead people do not ordinarily rise [from the dead] is itself part of early Christian belief…The early Christians insisted that what had happened to Jesus was precisely something new; was, indeed, the start of a whole new mode of existence, a new creation. The fact that Jesus’ resurrection was, and remains, without analogy is not an objection to the early Christian claim. It is a part of the claim itself” (Ibid, p712 emphasis in the text).

I would suggest that Wright read David Litwa:

Perhaps the most serious challenge to anyone who would dare make resurrection a matter of historical comparison is made by N. T. Wright. In his The Resurrection of the Son of God, Wright strongly affirms the uniqueness of Jesus’ resurrection; it is something that happened to Jesus “which had happened to nobody else.” Wright’s bold thesis, however, depends on how he defines resurrection. The “resurrection” that he has in mind is a bodily return to “the same sort of life that humans presently experience.” It is this sort of resurrection that Wright depicts as impossible in Greco-Roman thought. Characteristically, he states this conclusion in no uncertain terms. “Resurrection was not an option [in Greco-Roman culture],” the “road to the underworld [for Greeks] ran only one way,” and “Christianity was born into a [Greco-Roman] world where its central claim [about resurrection] was known to be false.” Wright’s conclusion that Homer and the tragedians offered a “total denial of resurrection” is based on a set of proof texts (Il. 24.549-51; Aesch., Eum. 647; Soph., El. 137-39) that are then taken as representative—and virtually canonical—for all hellenized peoples over a millennium of history. Perhaps one can grant Wright that these texts make implausible a worldview in which previously dead people return to “the same sort of life that humans presently experience”—but this is not an accurate description of the resurrection of Jesus. Thus the (at first glance) impressive list of texts Wright draws up against resurrection in the Mediterranean world mean little when we focus on a truly Christ-like resurrection, namely one leading to a transformed, immortalized corporeality. If Greeks (and here we can include the Corinthians in 1 Cor. 15) had an aversion to the resurrection of corpses returning to “the same sort of life that humans presently experience,” [*] they did not discount the notion of postmortem transformation to transcendent, immortal forms of life (as will be indicated below).

Over and over again, Wright avoids speaking about the corporeal implications of postmortem transformation in Mediterranean culture—repeatedly stressing that Greeks and Romans envisioned a transformation of the soul, not the body. To make this move plausible, Wright effectively canonizes Plato, calling his writings the “New Testament” for the hellenized world. As Dag Øistein Endsjø points out, however, making Plato’s doctrine of the immortal soul staple fare for ancient Mediterranean peoples (in particular non-philosophers) is a distortion of the general climate of thought (esp. in the first century ce). One has the lingering sense that Wright’s account of Plato’s cultural ubiquity is meant to reinforce his tendentious view that “pagans” emphasized only the immortality of the soul, leaving corporeal immortalization (i.e., the resurrection of the body) to Jews and Christians. Recent scholarship, in particular the work of Endsjø, has overturned this outdated notion.

In the end, Wright’s highly apologetic attempt to establish the uniqueness of Jesus’ resurrection fails because of a superficial comparison. In general, we might grant him that hellenized peoples may not have believed in a return of the dead to ordinary (mortal) human life—but this is not what Jesus’ resurrection is! Jesus’ resurrection much more resembles the stories of deified men immortalized after their deaths. These men are not just immortalized in their souls, but in their bodies as well. It is this postmortem corporeal transformation that allows one to compare their stories with the resurrection of Jesus.

35.Dag Øistein Endsjø, Greek Resurrection Beliefs and the Success of Christianity (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), 13. Self-identifying Platonists represented only a tiny cross-section of people in the ancient Mediterranean world. (As Cicero notes, “Philosophy . . . deliberately eschews the masses” [Tusc. 2.4].) Wright admits that “Plato did not sweep the board of subsequent opinion at either a popular or an intellectual level.” This point undermines the general tendency of his argument that Plato’s doctrine of the immortal soul was determinative for the whole Greco-Roman world (Resurrection of the Son, 52).

36.Wright is aware that the “old assumption that Greeks believed in immortality while Jews believed in resurrection is not merely historically inaccurate; it is conceptually muddled” (ibid., 162). Regrettably, his awareness of this point does not prevent him from employing a wrong-headed dichotomy between Greek immortality of the soul and Jewish resurrection of the body.
 
It can be, but it wasn't by Paul or the early community ... nor is it, in the Christian Tradition.

Paul didn't explicitly mention "it" (that is, an empty tomb) in his letters. For all we know he could be unaware of any empty tomb.

Let's assume Paul was aware of an empty tomb. Still, an empty tomb is a common trope found in ancient literature, especially in Greek and Roman mythology. Figures like Achilles, Numa Pompilius, and Romulus were believed to have ascended to divine status, often accompanied by the disappearance of their bodies. Placing the story in its cultural context, the empty tomb can be seen as a symbolic representation of divine elevation.


LOL, if it were in a newspaper, I'd look for more reliable sources first!

That's just admitting you ignore the cultural background of ancient Christianity - just like Wright, who tries to distort the climate of thought in the ancient world to make an apologetic point. Ancient religious texts are often layered with symbolism, metaphor, and cultural nuances that may not be immediately apparent to a modern reader that reads it like a newspaper.

We can interpret it how we like, but that doesn't make the interpretation valid, nor as meaningful as they might be.

Interpreting the empty tomb as a literal, physical event seems to me less plausible when considering the cultural and religious context of the time. A symbolic interpretation, however, aligns with ancient beliefs about divine ascension and transformation.
 
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and that statement is relative, we cannot say all supernatural events are simply natural phenomena we don't have an answer for.

What is considered supernatural is often a matter of cultural and historical context. Surely you agree, don't you?

The perception of what constitutes a "supernatural" event can change over time. What may be considered supernatural in one culture or time period may be explained naturally in another.

The burden of proof lies with you. All I see are extraordinary claims without extraordinary evidence.

Consider the ambiguity in Paul's writings and the potential for multiple interpretations. Paul himself might not even be saying the physical body of Jesus was transformed into pneumatic body. He might be saying Jesus was given a new pneumatic body while leaving his old body behind.
 
Paul didn't explicitly mention "it" (that is, an empty tomb) in his letters. For all we know he could be unaware of any empty tomb.
OK.

Let's assume Paul was aware of an empty tomb.
OK.

Still, an empty tomb is a common trope found in ancient literature, especially in Greek and Roman mythology.
OK. but that's not a logical argument against the empty tomb.

Placing the story in its cultural context, the empty tomb can be seen as a symbolic representation of divine elevation.
Yes. Or resurrection.

That's just admitting you ignore the cultural background of ancient Christianity -
Straw Man ...

Interpreting the empty tomb as a literal, physical event seems to me less plausible when considering the cultural and religious context of the time.
OK. Not to me.

A symbolic interpretation, however, aligns with ancient beliefs about divine ascension and transformation.
The point rather is that the resurrection was unique ...
 
What is considered supernatural is often a matter of cultural and historical context. Surely you agree, don't you?
Often ... but not always ... nor the false logic that says eventually everything will be explained.

The burden of proof lies with you. All I see are extraordinary claims without extraordinary evidence.
I'm not here to prove anything ... just point out that your interpretation of the Christian tradition is yours, but it is not a 'proof' nor is anyone obliged to treat it as such.

Consider the ambiguity in Paul's writings and the potential for multiple interpretations. Paul himself might not even be saying the physical body of Jesus was transformed into pneumatic body. He might be saying Jesus was given a new pneumatic body while leaving his old body behind.
Might have done ... then again Paul is early, but not the only source of the Tradition.
 
Does he actually offer an instance?

Does he actually offer an instance of what? Please write fuller questions so readers are not left to guess what in the world you mean. I guess you mean the following: "Does he actually offer an instance of Greco-Roman resurrection that renders Christ's resurrection not unique?" The story of Numa Pompilius disappearing from his sealed tomb is an example that Litwa uses to illustrate the existence of similar beliefs in ancient Mediterranean cultures. Other examples, such as that of Achilles, can be found in the information I shared above.

Here's one about Romulus (from "Easter Mythology") that cites the work of Litwa and others:

It is not feasible to cover here even a portion of the many classical translation fables, so for purposes of comparison I have selected just one, that of Romulus, because, with the possible exception of Heracles’s apotheosis, Romulus was the quintessential example in the archetypal translation tradition, and was the figure most familiar and dear to Romans. He was conceived when Mars slept with a vestal virgin and thus was the son of a god, and whereas Romulus founded the kingdom of Rome, Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God. According to the story of Romulus’s death, once he had put Rome on firm foundations, his father, the god Mars, decided that it was time to take him back into heaven. So one day when Romulus was reviewing his troops on the Field of Mars, he disappeared. Some people apparently thought that some senators killed him, tore him up, and spirited away the body parts, but a myth also arose that Mars had raised him up. Just in relation to Easter events we find at least the following parallels:

  • Like Jesus (as the Word) in the Gospel of John, Romulus was preexistent and divine, came from the divine realm to incarnate for a specific earthly mission, and returned to heaven (Litwa, p. 166).
  • As Romulus was dying on the Field of Mars, clouds came, the sun disappeared and the sky went dark, and thunder clapped (Plutarch, 27.6-7; Ovid, Fasti, 4:492-96); he disappeared in a mist or cloud (Livy, 1.16). When Jesus was dying, darkness came over the land, and at the moment of his death the earth shook (Mt 27:45, 51). He ascended to heaven in a cloud (Acts 1:9).
  • When Romulus died, his body (and clothing) disappeared and people wondered what had happened. After Jesus died, his body could not be found in the tomb, and people apparently suspected that the disciples had stolen it. So Matthew countered that notion by having Pilate station guards at the tomb (27:63-66). After the body nevertheless disappeared, the guards were bribed to claim that the disciples stole it while they were asleep (Mt 28:12:13).
  • After Romulus disappeared and his body could not be found, the confused people hurried away from the Field of Mars (Plutarch, 27.7-8). This aspect of the event was so famous and important that, according to some ancient accounts, the day was celebrated as a holiday annually throughout the Roman world as the day of “The People’s Flight” (Poplifugia), thus ensconcing Romulus’s ascension as the quintessential resurrection story in the Roman world. The original ending of Mark, where the women fled the tomb upon discovering that the body was missing, may be modeled on this tradition, thus also implying that Jesus was taken up.
  • The people concluded that Romulus had become a god and ascended to heaven, and began to worship him (Plutarch, 27.7-8; Ovid, Metamorphoses, 14.808-28; Litwa, p. 168). This parallels Jesus’s resurrection and ascension, and subsequent worship of him (e.g., Mt. 28:17; Luke 24:45-53; Acts 1:1-8). In both cases there are eyewitnesses to the ascension (see immediately below).
  • After the death of Romulus, his intimate friend Julius Proculus reported that while traveling on the road he had seen Romulus coming toward him. When he asks Romulus what had happened, Romulus replies, “It was the pleasure of the gods, O Proculus, from whom I came, that I should be with mankind only a short time, and that after founding a city destined to be the greatest on earth for empire and glory, I should dwell again in heaven. . . . And I will be your propitious deity, [called] Quirinus” (Plutarch, 28.1-3). As noted, sightings of resurrected humans, particularly on a road, were a common feature in such Greco-Roman translation fables. This recalls the encounter of two disciples with the resurrected Christ on the road to Emmaus (Lk 24:13-49), as well as St. Paul’s encounter with the resurrected Christ on the Damascus road (Acts 9:3-19).
  • Romulus offers Proculus (and Rome generally) parting advice and instructions (Plutarch, 28.2; Ovid, Fasti, 2:505-09). This parallels the parting instructions that the resurrected Christ gave to his disciples (Mk 16:14-18; Mt 28:18-20; Jn 20:21). Both Romulus and Christ rose to heaven after giving their instructions (Acts 1:9).
  • In both cases, their admirers recognized his divinity after his death and resurrection, calling him the son of God (Litwa, pp. 164, 166-67) (of Mars in Romulus’s case (Livy, 1:16)). In Mark (15:39) and Matthew (27:54) even the Roman centurion testified to this.
  • Both Romulus and Christ were resurrected and immortalized bodily (corporeally). This was a useful parallel because the Christians taught that the resurrected Christ existed in bodily as well as spiritual form, whereas the Greeks in general thought that the soul is immaterial and that an immortal exists only as spirit after death.
Interestingly, after relating the story of Romulus’s death and translation, Plutarch raises doubts about its historicity because it appears to parallel similar stories that were told about various Greek men and women who disappeared upon dying, including Alcmene (mother of Heracles), Aristeas of Proconnesus, and Cleomedes of Astypaleia; in other words, because the story was following familiar mythological motifs (28:4-6). The Church father Tertullian also noted that both Romulus and Jesus reportedly were taken up to heaven in a cloud, but argued that this was “far more certain” to have occurred Christ’s case than in that of Romulus (21.23).
The Romans began regarding some of their emperors (the better ones) as divine. Sometimes emperors were considered divine while still alive, but more commonly they were deified after their death; sometimes they claimed divine ancestry. In this capacity, the emperor was called the “Son of God”; Augustus put this title on coinage bearing his image.

This practice of deifying emperors presented a challenge for Christians. When Christ’s followers decided that he was the divine Son of God, this placed Christ in direct competition with the emperors. For Christians, Christ rather than any emperor was the divine Son of God, and this competition shaped how Christians packaged their myth. As Bart Ehrman observed, Christians were elevating Christ to divinity “under the influence and in dialogue with the environment in which they lived” (p. 49). Christ had to be portrayed as greater than any emperor. One consequence was that the moment when he became divine was pushed back further and further in time. Instead of becoming divine upon his resurrection as seems to have been the case initially (Rom 1:4; Acts 13:33), the moment when he became divine was pushed back to his baptism, then to his conception in Mary’s womb, and finally to even before the creation when he was a divinity in heaven (Jn 1:1-3). No emperor was able to make such a grand claim.

The use of the Greco-Roman model in telling the resurrection story does not necessarily mean that the mere event of the resurrection was invented out of whole cloth by writers from the gentile world many years after Jesus’s death. Nobody in the gentile world outside Palestine would have heard or cared about the provincial peasant Jesus unless a strong tradition about him had already evolved in Jesus’s homeland, which despite the tradition of Jesus as a teacher ultimately seems to have been centered on belief in his resurrection. Paul had heard the resurrection story only a few years after Jesus’s death, when he was persecuting members of the Jesus movement. Most New Testament scholars think that belief in the resurrection most likely originated among Jesus’s followers, who were illiterate and not well versed in classical culture, and spread from there. The building blocks in the telling of the story as we have it, however, do follow the classical template.

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Sources

Diodorus of Halicarnassus, Roman Histories.

Ehrman, Bart. How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee. New York: HarperOne (2014).

Keener, Craig. The Gospel of John: A Commentary. Vol. 2. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic (2003).

Litwa, M. David. Iesus Deus: The Early Christian Depiction of Jesus as a Mediterranean God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press (2014).

Livy, History of Rome.

MacDonald, Dennis. Mythologizing Jesus: From Jewish Teacher to Epic Hero. Lanham, Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield (2015).

Miller, Richard. Resurrection and Reception in Early Christianity. New York: Routledge (2015).

Ovid, Fasti.

Ovid, Metamorphoses.

Plutarch, Romulus.

Shapiro, H.A. “’Hêrôs Theos’: The Death and Apotheosis of Herakles,” The Classical World 77:7-18 (1983).

Smith, Jonathan. Drudgery Divine: On the Comparison of Early Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity. Chicago: University of Chicago Press (1990).

Tertullian, Apology.


And Litwa is not without his critics, so I do not find his arguments so compelling.

Instead of focusing on whether or not Litwa has critics (because I don't want you to slip into an ad hominem fallacy), it would be beneficial to address his argument.

Dag Øistein Endsjø, in Greek Resurrection Beliefs and the Success of Christianity, has this to say about Wright's idea "that something had happened to Jesus which had happened to nobody else":

"According to British Biblical scholar N.T. Wright, the natural meaning of Jesus’ resurrection was, throughout the ancient world, 'that something had happened to Jesus which had happened to nobody else.' This, as we see so clearly with Justin Martyr, Theophilus, Origen, and Tertullian, is most of all a theological stand. Even Christians were aware of the numerous parallels between the resurrection of Jesus and what according to Greek beliefs happened to a number of different people. Not able to refute the obvious parallels, early Christians responded instead by even more emphatically deny that there was any truth in these parallel stories."

The point rather is that the resurrection was unique ...

You and NT Wright have yet to show it was unique.

 
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"Adela Yarbro Collins argues that “the focus on the tomb in Mark may have been inspired by the importance of the graves of the heroes in the Greco-Roman world.”10 This, however, is unlikely. The heroes’ graves were the object of cult because they were not empty, exactly theopposite of what was the case with the tomb of Jesus in the gospels. But the empty tomb would nevertheless represent a potent symbol to the traditional Greek believer. Although classical and New Testament scholar Hans Dieter Betz, too, is not really accurate when comparing what he calls “disappearing heroes” with the empty tomb (people who became heroes normally did not disappear but died), he also connects the vanished and deified Jesus with men and women who disappeared and became gods according to Pagan beliefs.11 As we have seen, such examples of missing bodies indicating some form of physical immortalization were legion. If he had a Hellenistic audience in mind, Mark really could have certain expectations as to what they would believe. A body missing in some miraculous way represented in itself a powerful topos in the Hellenistic world, an indication that the body could have been physically immortalized. Comparing the various gospels, Eugene Boring, Klaus Berger, and Carsten Colpe point to possible parallels in the physical disappearance and subsequent immortalization of Heracles,12 Romulus,13 and Aristeas.14 As Adela Yarbro Collins argues, “The narrative pattern according to which Jesus died, was buried, and then translated to heaven was a culturally defined way for an author living in the first century to narrate the resurrection of Jesus.”15 As we have already witnessed, Heracles, Achilles, and Memnon all disappeared from their funeral pyres as they were made immortal, while the dead body of Alcmene was miraculously replaced by a large stone.16 The historical incidents of Aristeas of Proconnesus, Cleomedes of Astypalaea, Romulus, and perhaps also King Croesus and his daughters demonstrate how beliefs in physical immortality were still connected with a missing body. The empty tomb really was crucial to this narrative. The absence of a body had for centuries been something indicating physical immortalization. If there were any grave of Jesus, it had to be empty. For if the tomb was not empty, there could be no question of physical continuity, and thus it would be impossible to assume that any resurrection had taken place at all according to Greek assumptions. If we turn to another text roughly contemporary with the Gospel of Mark, we find another empty tomb and perhaps the most comprehensive Greek speculations as to what an empty grave really implied. In Chariton’s romantic novel Callirhoe, the protagonist dies as a young bride on her wedding day. She is buried that same night, and the wedding party turned mourners finds her grave empty the day after. With the body gone, the crowd displays confusion, despair, and some remarkable suggestions as to what may have happened.

All felt helpless, and one of those inside [the tomb] said, “The funeral offerings have been stolen! This is the work of tomb robbers. But where is the corpse?” Many different speculations were offered by the crowd. But Chaereas [the groom turned widower],looking up to heaven, stretched forth his hands and said, “Which of the gods has become my rival and carried off Callirhoe and now keeps her with him, against her will but compelled by a mightier fate? Is this then why she died suddenly, that she might not succumb to disease? In this way did Dionysus once steal Ariadne from Theseus, and Zeus Semele from Actaeon.”17

We should make a particular note of the initial reaction to the absent body in Chariton’s novel. Although it seems clear to all that the opening of the grave and the stealing of the funeral offerings must be the work of grave robbers, no one concludes that they had taken the body, as well. The possibility of someone wanting to steal a dead body is, however, not unheard of, even in this specific genre of romantic novels. In Xenophon of Ephesus’ second-century a.d. Ephesian Tale everyone seems immediately to accept that grave robbers have stolen the corpse of another equally beautiful young girl, along with the grave goods.18But in Chariton’s tale the crowd insists that something else must have happened to the body. And this is where things start to appear strangely familiar. No doubt is expressed as to whether Callirhoe had really been dead when she was buried. No one suggests that the young woman had somehow been buried alive. Instead, since the dead body has vanished the groom Chaereas suspects that some god has taken Callirhoe away to live forever together with him, something that usually would involve the resurrection of the dead body and its being made physically immortal. Indeed, Chaereas believes that Callirhoe had “died suddenly so that she might not succumb to a disease,” apparently because this god, whoever he may be, wanted her body immortalized in no way disfigured or ruined by a prolonged illness. As was the case with the dismembered Pelops whose shoulder blade Demeter had devoured,19 it was not in the gods’ power to fix a body or a body part that had been destroyed beyond a certain point. To ensure that the fair Callirhoe preserved her beauty forever when immortalized, the most expedient thing for the god was to kill her swiftly in a way not ruining her body, for then to have her physically resurrected and immortalized as she was removed from the tomb.

Considered by the groom to have been physically resurrected, Callirhoe has in his eyes become an immortal goddess who now dwells far away from the geography of ordinary mortals, just like Ariadne and Semele whom he also refers to. Convinced that Callirhoe had been made immortal, Chaereas had also been taught from history where to look for her. “You force me to live, because I shall look for you on land and sea, and, if I can, I will even climb up the sky,”20the groom exclaims, thus summing up three of the places where the ancient gods traditionally brought those whom they made physically immortal.
-Dag Øistein Endsjø, Greek Resurrection Beliefs and the Success of Christianity
 
By David Armstrong:
"The last century has seen a lot of great scholarship on a variety of interrelated topics in biblical studies, with some helpful new starting points for doing critical work on Jewish and Christian antiquity. On the one hand, scholars of Early Judaism now take it for granted that all Judaism after the time of Alexander the Great was thoroughly Hellenized. The question in analyzing Jewish individuals, documents, and archaeology after 323 BCE is not whether they were Hellenized, but how much, in what ways, and with how much comfortable permeability of the boundaries of social institutions and cultural participation. The Jews at Qumran and the Jews living in Alexandria, Egypt were both Hellenized, but they had very different relationships to that fact, and it may even be fair to say that the latter group was more explicitly conscious of that fact than the former. All varieties of Early Judaism are thus forms of Greco-Roman religion: Hellenistic and Imperial species of ethnically specific behavior dealing with ancestral customs and cultural norms for interactions with divinity and the worshiping community. On the other hand, scholars of Early Christianity now universally recognize that the nascent Jesus Movement of the first century was fully within the cultic, social, and institutional boundaries of what we would identify as “Judaism,” and did not constitute an explicitly separate, wholly distinct religious phenomenon—“Christianity”—for some time afterwards.

That is to say, Jesus, his apostles, their disciples, and the authors of the literature later compiled as the New Testament were all Jews existing within the wider matrix of Early Jewish diversity, and thus within the cultural mosaic of Hellenism. Within this group, which contained internal Jewish diversity, were also already diverse approaches to relationship with Hellenic religion, philosophy, and culture; and thus these Christ-following assemblies of Jews and gentiles, too, constituted examples of Greco-Roman religion. The only conclusion that can follow from these premises is thus that to talk about the earliest “Christianity” as a species of Early Judaism and to talk about it from within the framework of Hellenic religion, philosophy, myth, and literary culture are not and cannot be mutually exclusive.

This foundation has been partly assumed, and partly laid, by scholars like M. David Litwa, whose excellent work demonstrates the sheer Hellenism of the Gospels’ presentation of Jesus in the terms of what ancient Greeks and Romans expected from their gods, including their human gods (“demigods” or “heroes”). As he argues in Iesus Deus, Jesus’ literary portrait in the canonical and non-canonical Gospels is clearly shaped by such expectations. Luke’s account of Jesus’ pneumatic conception, for example, while certainly drawing on what he deemed tradition concerning Jesus’ conception and birth and making use of explicitly Jewish imagery, language, and themes (particularly surrounding haaron habrit, the ark of the covenant), no less engages in a theory of the genesis of divine humans that was also advocated by his pagan contemporary Plutarch (Moralia 7173-718b). Likewise, as Litwa later points out, contra N.T. Wright and pro the growing consensus of scholars who work on ancient theories of resurrection (or what Litwa calls “corporeal immortalization”), Jesus’ restoration to physical life (the Gospels do not leave a corpse in the tomb) is the same preliminary to divine glorification or bodily deification that heroes like Asklepios, Herakles, and Romulus had received.

Again, the point is not anything so crude as to say that the Gospel writers simply “borrowed” something from the pagan imaginary and slapped it onto Jesus; but it is rather to point out that for Early Christian language about Jesus, as a species of Early Jewish ethnoreligious language, itself just part of the broader Greco-Roman cultural web, to have any kind of positive content for the people to whom that language was addressed, then what happened to Jesus had to have had some kind of parallel point of reference in wider religious discourse.

Jesus can, and does, for the Gospel writers, surpass all other possible rivals, but figures like St. Justin Martyr had no problem, as Litwa points out, simply admitting that what Christians claim to have happened in, through, to, and for Jesus is “nothing at all new” or out of the ordinary beyond what was ordinarily predicated of the demigods in Greek religion (Justin Martyr, 1 Apol. 21.1-3).


The basic principle here is that the mystery of Christ is unintelligible if it is wholly dissimilar to everything else culturally. If Christ has no parallel in world mythology, philosophy, and religion, then one has only succeeded in making Jesus perfectly inaccessible to all human conceptualization.

From an essay on Eclectic Orthodoxy
 
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