There is a new book published by Oxford University Press that has gotten mythicists in a tizzy. That book is none other than T.C. Schmidt’s Josephus and Jesus, New Evidence for the One Called Christ.
As some may imagine, Richard Carrier is one such mythicist who has taken an issue with the new book. And part of his issue seems to be that Schmidt’s work has been pretty well received. As Carrier states, “lots of people are being suckered by this.”
Since Schmidt’s book came out, it has seen a lot of attention. Much of it has been positive, but at times, some of it has been overly hyped. For instance, Mike Jones of Inspiring Philosophy had Schmidt on his show, and really played the book up as something that was earth-shattering. It’s a good book, but many of the arguments aren’t new. Instead, Schmidt really just brings many of the threads together.
And maybe it’s some of this over-the-top hype that has led to some mythicist pushback, including that of Carriers. However, ironically, much like Jones’s approach to the book, the mythicist response has largely been apologetic, and Carrier’s expose is no different.
Opening Paragraph
This sort of apologetic rhetoric is on full display in the first paragraph of Carrier’s response. It’s actually on full display in the first line, where he calls Schmidt’s book a “travesty of Christian apologetics,” that is, “undeservedly snaking the respectability of, well, Oxford University.”
As apologetics often do, instead of beginning with a more critical look, it instantly jumps into an attack, which seeks to set the stage for the rest of the discussion. A discussion that is going to often rely on this sort of negative rhetoric.
As is often the case, this attack is then followed up with a misrepresentation. We will just let Carrier state this in his own words:
“The rhetorical objective of this book is to convince people that the Testimonium Flavianum, a fawning paragraph about Jesus in the manuscripts of Josephus, not only is entirely authentic exactly as written, but that this proves Josephus had a stellar array of sources that fully entail Jesus existed as a historical person.”
I find this characterization of Schmidt’s book rather interesting. Often, Carrier, when responding to critics, will chastise them for not actually reading his work. Yet, it seems here that Carrier is guilty of that same thing.
So, Schmidt’s argument is that the Testimonium Flavianum is largely authentic. But he does not state that it is entirely authentic exactly as it’s written. What Schmidt says, in his introduction, is that:
“I maintain that the TF found in extant manuscripts of the Antiquities is essentially authentic, and that it has merely lost two or three words that can still be found preserved in Greek, Latin, Syriac, Arabic, and Armenian textual witnesses.”
Schmidt does argue that more of the text is authentic than what the consensus states, but he also acknowledges that the text, as presented today, isn’t perfect either. So no, Schmidt doesn’t argue that it is authentic exactly as written.
Nor does Schmidt argue that the authenticity of the TF proves Josephus had a “stellar array of sources.” Schmidt does look at possible sources that Josephus could have used, but he doesn’t use the TF as proof for this. Instead, Schmidt looks at the life and background of Josephus, and examines possible solutions based on that.
He looks at Josephus’s social network, and looks at who Josephus may have had a connection to that could have been a source for his information. Schmidt consistently makes it clear that this is just a potential. He lists a number of possibilities, but even concludes that it would be a mistake to “consider these individuals as the only possible sources for Josephus’ information about Jesus.”
And again, this argument that Schmidt makes is not based on the TF being authentic, but on the background of Josephus. The entire argument here is based on who Josephus was, who he would have known, who his connections were, etc.
It should also be noted that Schmidt doesn’t see the TF as a fawning paragraph, but instead, says it was largely neutral, but portions could be seen as negative. He bases this not only on his reading of the passage, but also on the reception of the passage. In fact, part of his argument is that the TF has been misread as being positive, when, in fact, it’s not.
For Carrier to present such a misrepresentation here is rather hypocritical, as so often, he laments about people doing this to his own work.
Carrier finishes off this sort of introduction largely by poisoning the well. He attempts to discredit the methodology by implying that apologetical techniques were used, that the author is playing fast and loose with evidence, and even dismisses the fact that it was peer-reviewed, because, for Carrier, that simply can’t stand. Finally, he finishes off his attack by even discrediting those who have given the work positive reviews, by saying they were suckered by it.
I highlight all of this because these are the same views that many mythicists are making about this book, and I’d wager that they are largely just taking their cue from Carrier. Instead of actually engaging in the work, many are just brushing it off as apologetic nonsense. The fact that it’s peer-reviewed means nothing, even though they, and Carrier himself, often make a reasonable deal about works being peer-reviewed. In fact, he does just this at the end of his expose here.
So why is the fact that Schmidt’s book passed peer review so downplayed? Because according to Carrier, a real peer review means that it was fully fact-checked for errors or misstatements. And if Schmidt’s book truly passed that process, he can’t simply dismiss it as terrible scholarship.
But let’s move on to his assessment.
Overall Assessment
Carrier begins his actual assessment by launching into another attack. He attacks Schmidt’s translation of Greek, saying it is either fraudulent or incompetent. He calls Schmidt a doe-eyed Christian, that he’s obsessed with making evidence disappear that is inconvenient to his faith, that he rewrites history, that he is insane in how far he will go with omissions and false descriptions, and that he relies on fallacies of logic that are popular for any apologist of any false belief. He concludes that none of this has a place in respectable academia.
Now, I’d say that spending so much time throwing out insults in order to try to discredit a person, which happens to be a logical fallacy that one could say many apologists use, shouldn’t really be something that has a place in respectable academia either.
Carrier doesn’t even really hide the fact that this is what he’s doing though. He specifically states that he’s going to “establish Schmidt’s playbook,” so his readers can also discredit what Carrier claims is not legitimate scholarship.
At this point, Carrier has penned a little more than 500 words on what amounts to an attack, an ad hominem. Nothing thus far has really addressed what Schmidt’s book is about, and in fact, Carrier is guilty of misrepresenting what Schmidt is attempting to do.
It’s not actually until the third section of Carrier’s expose that we begin to see him engage with Schmidt’s thesis. Sadly, that engagement will continue to be filled with attacks on Schmidt, but at least we can finally get to something of substance.
The Olson Analysis
Now, before we move on, it’s worth noting that much like the beginning of Carrier’s article, much of what is to follow is insults and attacks on Schmidt. We’ve already spent enough time on addressing that issue, so for the most part, I’m going to just skip over that sort of material. Honestly, the constant ad hominems, the attacks, the insults, which all just amount to a plethora of logical fallacies, just become tiring. So while I make my best attempt of addressing the actual points that Carrier raises, it is possible that I may miss something here or there as I scroll past all of the needless negativity.
Now, Carrier really begins his expose by referring to Ken Olson’s work in which he argues that the TF appears more Eusebian that Josephan. For Carrier, Olson seems to be the pinnacle of research here, and if Schmidt’s proposal is to stand a chance, it has to overcome what Olson has written. What we really see here is a mirrored approach. While Schmidt’s work is dragged through the mud, Olson’s work is overly praised and deemed almost untouchable.
Schmidt does, in fact, cover Olson’s view, in Appendix 1 of his book, but beyond that, he also builds up a case for his own perspective. It’s Schmidt’s actual case that I think should be the focus. Because whether he actually directly refutes Olson or not is rather irrelevant if the case that Schmidt is solid.
I think this is a mistake both apologists and mythicists often make. Going back to Mike Jones, one thing that he does quite often when responding to a critic in his videos is that he largely dismisses individuals because Jones has already not only discussed, but supposedly proved, whatever point that is being made. The assumption that he seems to be going with is that anyone who critiques him should be aware of all the material that Jones has already produced. It’s a way to minimize disagreement and assert one’s own authority, while refusing to really engage in the material.
Carrier does the same thing here. He places Olson as the expert on this topic, cites all of the material Olson has produced, and then claims this already prebunks anything that Schmidt will say. In essence, Carrier is confirming that Olson’s view has to be correct, and there really is no changing that, so Schmidt, by default, will already be wrong. It’s an excuse to not take scholarship seriously because someone has already made up their mind.
This isn’t a one-off thing. As apologists are often guilty of, Carrier also has a tendency to decide what can and can’t be used as actual research based on their own prerogatives. I’ve had numerous discussions with apologists where the sources I provide are dismissed simply because they are “progressive” and thus aren’t reliable. What progressive here means is largely that apologists don’t like them.
Carrier does a similar thing here, specifically with the topic of Jospehus. He claims “no one can ever cite any expert opinion on whether Josephus mentioned Jesus, if that opinion was published before 2014.” That is, unless you can, because Carrier deems it worthy enough, as he, in the same article, also says other opinions dating back to 1995 can be accepted.
I bring this up as all of the Olson opinions that Carrier cites predate 2014, so they shouldn’t be cited, but that’s kind of the gist of the problem here.
The real point though, is that we can’t simply dismiss an argument because someone, who is being claimed as an authority, has already written a counter view on the topic. Appeals to authority are not sound arguments. And creating an entire framework where virtually any idea one doesn’t like can simply be dismissed is neither logical, nor academic. It’s dishonest.
Finally Getting to an Argument
But what about Carrier’s actual argument against Schmidt, because we still haven’t even gotten to that. It takes nearly a 1,000 words, largely focused on creating logical fallacies (specifically multiple ad hominems and then an appeal to authority) and just mud slinging to finally get to the first argument.
This first argument relates to the phrase, “given that the divine prophets spoke these and the thousand other wonders concerning him.” Specifically, Carrier focuses on the phrase, “and ten thousand other things.”
So this section is a bit of a mess, but we can break it down. To begin, Carrier makes it appear as if Schmidt is directly responding to Olson, but he’s not. Schmidt mentions Olson in footnote 281. And he only states that “Olson is incorrect when he says that Josephus never uses the phrase.” The phrase in question is “ten thousand other.”
Schmidt does make a slight mistake here. What Olson is claiming isn’t found in Josephus is the phrase, “and ten thousand other.” The difference is specifically the word and being used in conjunction here. This seems to be more of a simple mistake, and not the implied attack that Carrier makes it out to be.
The issue then is that while Josephus does in fact use the phrase, “ten thousand other,” elsewhere, and thus it fits with Josephus’s style, he doesn’t include the word kai, or and, prior to that. Now, Schmidt could have just left off this footnote, and there would be no real problem.
The reason for this is because we do see Josephus using the phrase, tauta te kai, or, and also … other things, which includes the kai, or and, that is missing in the other specific phrase.
Which means, that while we don’t see the specific phrasing, and ten thousand other things, we do see that the phrase as a whole, the tauta te kai alla muria, being representative of how Josephus spoke. The two separate phrases are found in Josephus, even though the exact wording of the phrase as a whole, is not.
Carrier makes a big deal about this, as he frames it as Schmidt intentionally seeking to manipulate the data and hide it from the public. Which is rather silly, as Schmidt, in his footnote, actually points his readers to where the claim can be found.
Now, we can see this was a slight mistake on the part of Schmidt, but it doesn’t actually change the argument. Because as Schmidt points out, the entire phrase as a whole, is still representative of Josephus.
Over the next 1600 words, Carrier really just builds this small mistake, found in a footnote, into a mountain. Which is rather disappointing as, if Carrier really wanted to critique Schmidt’s analysis of Olson, he could have dealt with it in Appendix 1. It’s in Appendix 1, and not a footnote that briefly mentions Olson, while also explaining Schmidt’s method here and mentioning how another scholar missed this information, that Schmidt really dives into Olson’s larger argument.
Hopper and Goldberg Analysis
From Olson, we jump to Paul Hopper and G.J. Goldberg. The big issue that Carrier points out here is that Schmidt doesn’t address all of the scholarship that Carrier believes he should have. And since Schmidt doesn’t address the scholarship that Carrier believes is the most important, then Schmidt really has no case.
However, one doesn’t have to address and argue against every piece of scholarship out there directly in order to make an argument. This again is just a way to try to dismiss Schmidt without actually dealing with his arguments.
As Carrier points out, Schmidt doesn’t mention Hopper directly at all, but he does mention Goldberg. He does this most in depth in a footnote on page 141. There he engages with the claims Goldberg makes, offers rebuttals, and then in the next footnote, cites another scholar who presents additional evidence that supports the conclusion that Schmidt is presenting.
As Schmidt points out though, contrary to what Carrier states, is that Goldberg doesn’t necessarily think that Josephus used Luke, but instead possibly only used a source like Luke that Josephus then rewrote.
Carrier largely ignores this treatment, and instead misrepresents Schmidt’s argument by ignoring the footnotes, where he even points to where he deals with the claims a bit more. Carrier claims that Schmidt just blows past these ideas, but that’s only because Carrier is ignoring where Schmidt actually addresses these ideas.
Moving forward, Carrier then creates an argument where he makes contradictory statements in order to cover every base, making it seem impossible for him to be wrong. He states:
“And authors, even forgers, tended to want to be original, or to emulate the target author’s style, either of which explains this data.”
This is a meaningless statement. It’s like me saying it’s either right or left. It says nothing, while covering every base.
But it’s worse than that, as that statement really causes trouble for his later argument, where he discusses stylometry. Carrier correctly points out that we can tell authors apart as they don’t tend to use exactly the same vocabulary and idioms as others.
Somehow, through all of this, the conclusion Carrier reaches is that this shows Schmidt is arguing against the “entire point of identifying an author’s distinctive style.”
This tells me that Carrier either didn’t read Schmidt’s book, or that he’s purposefully misrepresenting it. Because this entire section that Carrier is talking about has nothing to do with stylometry. In effect, Carrier ignored the entire discussion about stylometry, and the method that Schmidt uses, to only skip to part two of the book, that looks at actual possible sources.
Carrier gets to this conclusion by ignoring the first half of Schmidt’s book, ignores Schmidt’s treatment of Goldberg, and ignores the following two footnotes that cite additional scholars, and then points to where Schmidt already discussed these ideas. This is disingenuous at best. And honestly, probably should invalidate Carriers’ entire argument here because it’s exceptionally clear that he’s not engaging with the text, and he’s working in a manner that he would condemn in anyone else.
Back to Olson
What’s most frustrating here is that while Carrier misrepresents the engagement with Goldberg, he then, in his Hopper and Goldberg analysis, actually deals with Schmidt’s engagement with Olson. He misrepresents this as if it had something to do with Goldberg, when it doesn’t.
Why Carrier didn’t actually deal with this in his section on Olson is rather interesting, and makes no real sense.
Anyway, the argument that Carrier focuses on is the use of the phrase paradoxon ergon poietes, or a doer of incredible deeds. I’m not quite sure that Carrier truly read, or understood what Schmidt’s argument is here though. That, or he purposely misrepresented what is actually being said.
Contrary to what Carrier claims, Schmidt’s assertion (which begins on page 225, not 226 as Carrier states) is not that Christians never used this phrase, but instead, as both Olson, and Louis Feldman point out, “no other Greek authors make use of it before 300 CE, except that is for Eusebius, who uses it nine times according to my count.”
Carrier seems to be completely unaware of what Schmidt’s argument actually is, as he spends 3 paragraphs arguing against something that isn’t there. To try to demonstrate that other Christians did, in fact, use the phrase, he points to John Chrysostom and Didymus the Blind. However, both of these wrote after 300 AD, which is what Schmidt, citing Olson and Feldman, actually argues. His argument, again, is that no one prior to 300 uses this phrase. Carrier citing two authors who used the phrase after that isn’t a counter argument.
Even more though, Carrier then spends a paragraph, and even supplies a little excerpt, showing that Eusebius did in fact use this phrase, as if he’s showing that Schmidt is wrong in some manner. Yet, again, Schmidt points out this very exact thing.
What Carrier doesn’t do is actually really address Schmidt’s argument. He briefly touches on it, and then just dismisses it without actually seeming to understand it.
So what is Schmidt’s argument? He’s addressing Olson’s argument that the TF was forged or rewritten by Eusebius, and is arguing that the phrases Olson points to as being more Eusebian isn’t necessarily so.
While Schmidt acknowledges that Eusebius uses this phrase, and that according to Olson and Feldman, it appears that this phrase “must be the unmistakable mark of Eusebius’ tampering,” he instead argues that there is another explanation.
Schmidt argues that if we look at Eusebius’ usage pattern, what we see is that “the noted expression first appears clustered around Eusebius’ quotation of the TF and then only later does the phrase arise independently of the TF.” Since this phrase is not dispersed through the works of Eusebius, the conclusion is that it was not a “habitual turn of phrase of his.”
Looking at this pattern of usage, what Schmidt points out is that Eusebius doesn’t actually independently use the phrase until around two decades after he first encountered it in the TF. This seems to suggest that Eusebius more than likely was “inspired by the TF to use the phrase, not that he inserted it into the TF.”
Carrier doesn’t address this argument though. He instead argues that Eusebius loves this phrase, while ignoring the fact that many of the times that Eusebius uses this phrase is in regards to the TF, and it’s only decades later that he finally uses it independently.
Now, it is true that Josephus never uses this exact phrase elsewhere. And this is something that Schmidt deals with in chapter three (which Carrier also ignores). One of the big arguments there is in regards to the term paradoxa, which is translated as miraculous, but can refer to something surprising or strange.
What Schmidt argues is that because of the negative connotations of paradoxa, it’s questionable that a Christian would use such a term when describing the acts of Jesus. And in fact, what he shows is that this term is generally not used by Christians themselves when describing what Jesus did, but instead is used by those attacking Christianity.
An example given of this usage is with the Jew of Celsus, as seen in Origen’s work, Against Celsus, who grants that Jesus did perform paradoxa. Justin Martyr also asserts that Jews acknowledged that Jesus performed miracles, but did so by magic. This is part of a larger trend where non-Christians accept that Jesus could do miracles, but they then demean it by using the term paradoxa, which suggests there was something morally questionable going on.
Even Eusebius realizes this baggage attached to the term, who, while discussing the TF, addresses this reality by saying that there are those who “admit that Jesus performed incredible deeds (ta paradoxa) but that he did so with deceptive magic directed at the onlookers, such as by a conjuror or sorcerer, to dazzle those who stood by.”
Schmidt then goes on to point out that Josephus does use this term as well, but it’s in the context of magic and sorcery, which held a negative connotation. Finally, Schmidt then points out that while this entire phrase isn’t used in the same exact manner elsewhere, he does use similar constructs in other places.
Now, ironically, Carrier finishes off this discussion with an argument that one could use to dismiss his entire argument. He criticizes Schmidt for making claims he didn’t make, and for dismissing trends he has not. And after manipulating what Schmidt actually said, he asks how can you trust a man who does this? Maybe that’s a fair question, because as clearly shown, Carrier is guilty of all of the things he levels at Schmidt, which maybe means we shouldn’t trust Carrier, and also ask, what else is he manipulating “by clever wording to think something contrary to the data?”
Having the Days
While we could dismiss Carrier here, as he almost even gives us permission to do such, we can move on to his next point instead, which deals with the phrase, triten echon hemera palin, or on the third day again.
Schmidt spends little time on this passage, and as opposed to how Carrier seems to frame this, it really isn’t an argument in opposition to Goldberg. Goldberg is only mentioned in one footnote, where Schmidt points out that while Goldberg (following Henry St. John Thackery’s 1926 work) states that there is no exact parallel of this phrase in Josephus, that isn’t actually the case. And to support this claim, Schmidt then cites where Josephus parallels this.
Interestingly enough, both Schmidt and Goldberg agree that this sort of phrasing was typical for Greek writers. But even more, in Goldberg’s conclusion in his 1995 article (which both Schmidt and Carrier cite), titled “The Coincidence of Emmaus Narrative of Luke and the Testimonium Josephus,” he actually proposes that this phrase could have been original to Josephus.
So while Schmidt and Goldberg disagree on whether there is a precise parallel in Josephus with this phrase, they both suppose that it could have been original. Now, since Goldberg was depending on Thackery’s work from 1926 (which is a quality work in its own right), it may be that the disagreement is more based on Schmidt having better access to the text through modern searchable databases.
Schmidt and Goldberg agree on more here though. Goldberg states on page 9 of his work that “standard lexicons such as Arndt and Gingrich provide no examples of this,” speaking of this phrase. Schmidt agrees by saying that TLG search “reveals no references to Jesus resurrection before the fifth century.”
Carrier though only takes offense with Schmidt on this. He faults Schmidt for not mentioning references to similar passages that are not about Jesus, but other figures. Even though Schmidt’s argument is specifically about Jesus, and what the evidence, as Schmidt shows it, is that this phrase isn’t used by Christians for Jesus until the fifth century.
Quite telling is that Carrier has no issue with Goldberg, who completely ignores these other passages mentioned by Carrier, and states that this phrase is a “unique appearance of an odd phrase in each author, and probably the only two appearances in Christian literature.”
Now, the phrase in Luke 24, which Goldberg is referencing, and the phrase in the TF, while similar, aren’t exact, but have “a unique appearance of this form of the ‘third day.’” It should also be mentioned that Goldberg doesn’t necessarily argue that Josephus got this phrase from Luke, but that; 1) it may have been a coincidence because the phrase was common in the first century; 2) that maybe it was a later Christian interpolation influenced by Luke 24; or 3) that this construction of this phrase was originally written by a Christian, in the first century, and Josephus incorporated it into his work. Goldberg, leaning into this possibility, suggests that it could have been a special source that Josephus used, and that he may not have clearly understood what the phrase meant, so he kept the ambiguity.
So while there is some disagreement between Goldberg and Schmidt, there is by far more agreement. How Carrier can demean Schmidt’s work so much, while praising Goldberg’s, is beyond me. I suspect that maybe the issue is that Carrier either didn’t read Goldberg, or he’s projecting his own tactics onto Schmidt.
This is seen clearly when Carrier states that “Goldberg’s studies topple every inference Schmidt wants to get to by proving that if Josephus wrote the TF, he did so by just slavishly and uncritically paraphrasing Luke’s Gospel, conclusively disproving any chance that Josephus had any real source for Jesus.”
But that’s not what Goldberg is arguing in this work. Instead, he suggests that Josephus didn’t paraphrase Luke, but instead, that “we can postulate that if both the Testimonium and the Emmaus narrative employ at some point an odd or obscure form expression, then there is probable cause to believe that expression was derived from a shared or similar source.”
And if we remember correctly, Goldberg argues that we have this sort of odd form expression in these texts, and in fact, suggests that Josephus was using a special source, a source he shared with Luke.
Goldberg is arguing the exact opposite of what Carrier is claiming, which is wild here as it clearly shows that Carrier is doing exactly, and more, what he is accusing Schmidt of. He’s doing apologetics, not scholarship.
The Godfrey Analysis
From here, we move on to the Godfrey Analysis. For those who are unaware of Neil Godfrey, he’s an atheist blogger whose site is called Vridar. Now, let’s make it clear, there’s nothing wrong with being a blogger. I introduce him as such because he highlights that fact on his website, which displays the fact that he was awarded a top 30 atheist blog.
I also mention this as it largely legitimizes my own work, which is, in part, blogging. It means, it can’t simply be dismissed by hand waving, which I think is a fair take.
Jumping into Godfrey’s analysis, we hit a major problem. Carrier claims that Godfrey observes that “Schmidt wants to argue that the Testimonium Flavianum is a ‘neutral’ text, neither praising nor hostile.”
This is a misrepresentation of Schmidt’s work, and it appears to be based on a misunderstanding by Godfrey. In essence, we have layers on top of layers of errors.
The first layer here is simply a basic misunderstanding on Godfrey’s part. He opens his argument by highlighting two ideas Schmidt puts forward on page 203 of his book. The first highlighted statement is that Schmidt argues that “He (Jospehus) seems to have intended it (the TF) to be neither openly negative nor openly positive, and therefore largely neutral.”
Godfrey has no issue with this, but states he’s confused by the following sentence, which reads: “He did however insert a healthy amount of ambiguity, enough for one to draw several negative or positive inferences about Jesus.”
Godfrey doesn’t appear to understand how this could be; how could one write something largely neutral, but still have either portions that could be seen as negative or positive? As someone who has had numerous critiques of my work done, this seems to be a rather basic concept though.
In a number of classes in college, learning how to properly, and effectively, critique another person’s work was mandatory. Even when doing a critique that was largely positive, negative points could be brought up, which would help the other person improve their work. While the critique had negative remarks, it could still be, overall, largely positive.
We often see this same thing play out in journals when reading book reviews. A glowing review can still contain a few points of negativity, a few issues that the reviewer had, even though they see the entirety of the work as positive.
Now, we can bring this in a bit more, and understanding this basic framework, see what Schmidt was actually saying and how it makes clear sense. We can start with the conclusion of his argument, which is, the TF is largely neutral. That doesn’t mean it’s 100 percent neutral. It doesn’t rule out the possibility of negative or positive readings. It just means, overall, it’s neutral.
The primary argument for this is that it isn’t openly negative or openly positive. It doesn’t praise Jesus, nor condemn him. Thus, overall, it’s largely neutral. But, Schmidt also recognizes that there is more to this story, which is made clear with the use of the word however, in the second sentence that was quoted.
A basic reading of this should tell us that while Schmidt is arguing that the TF is largely neutral, he also recognizes that something else is at play here. What that something is, is “a healthy amount of ambiguity.”
Because of this ambiguity, others could draw inferences themselves, which were either positive or negative. As in, Josephus himself is not saying anything openly negative or positive, but because the text is somewhat ambiguous, others could read either a negative or positive message into it. This doesn’t mean that Josephus was trying to be positive or negative, it just means that he left enough wiggle room in his writing for others to draw inferences.
Honestly, I’m not sure why this concept confused Godfrey, or why Carrier thought this was a credible enough argument to cite, but it largely undermines the points they are trying to make.
Undermining this even more is the misrepresentation that Carrier poses. As we see, Schmidt argues that while the TF is largely neutral, it can possibly be seen as both, in part, either positive or negative. Carrier ignores this nuance, and just claims that Schmidt says it’s a neutral text, “neither praising nor hostile.”
This ignores many of the arguments Schmidt actually makes, which highlights both potentially positive and negative readings of certain verses inside the text. Now, we will get back to this particular argument, but the misrepresentation by Carrier isn’t reserved for just Schmidt. He also misrepresents Godfrey.
Carrier summarizes Godfrey’s conclusion as, “Schmidt can only get there with a massive accumulation of ‘ad hoc scenarios to explain why we should be convinced,’ of this, which renders his thesis cumulatively improbable.”
So what is this massive accumulation of ad hoc scenarios that Godfrey references? It’s that Schmidt is “arguing on the basis of creatively imagining who Josephus was talking to or what conversations he was recalling at the time of his writing.” This massive accumulation really is a single thing. Specifically, it’s what Josephus’ source for this information was.
Now besides that clear misrepresentation of Godfrey’s argument by Carrier, we also have a problem with this conclusion from Godfrey. Schmidt does not argue that the sources for what Josephus knew impact how the information is being portrayed. While Schmidt does make some arguments about possible sources, while acknowledging that there may be others, he does not base his arguments on what the possible sources were.
In fact, Schmidt tells us that he doesn’t know why there is ambiguity here: “Whether this was because Josephus hoped to curry favor with an audience divided over their estimation of Jesus, or because he himself had no certain opinion of Jesus, or because his sources differed regarding Jesus, or because he admired Jesus but did not want to reveal his true feelings, or because he simply did not care, I cannot tell.”
What we are left with is just a mess that doesn’t actually address what Schmidt is saying. And upon this mess, Carrier continues to build his case. Taking this series of misrepresentations built upon a misunderstanding, Carrier claims that what Schmidt is doing is committing a common error among apologists. That error according to Carrier is: “mistaking a long series of ‘just so’ stories to explain away the evidence as ‘evidence’ that ups the probability they are right, when in fact it catastrophically tanks that probability, by requiring we believe a thousand improbable things in order to believe one thing probable.”
Yet, Carrier, nor Godfrey, actually demonstrates that this is what Schmidt is doing. Carrier only gets to this conclusion through a heap of misrepresentations, and even then, he has to then take a massive leap. And after all of that, he still feels the need to claim that Schmidt’s entire book is constructed on this framework. However, he never even begins to show this.
Carrier goes on to claim that Schmidt’s method here is invalid, and thus it’s an exercise in apologetics, not scholarship. For Carrier to claim this is dishonest at best, as he seems completely unaware, as shown above, as to what Schmidt’s method is. If we are talking about apologetics though, Carrier’s tactic here is a great example.
Continuing down this line of misrepresentations, we eventually find what Carrier means by the “just so stories.” They aren’t stories at all, but instead Schmidt’s treatment of individual lines within the TF.
In chapter three of Josephus and Jesus, titled An Authorial Commentary on the Testimonium Flavianum, Schmidt offers a commentary on the text. He does so not by creating “just so stories,” but by breaking the text into phrases. As with any commentary, Schmidt then discusses that phrase. To claim this is a faulty method is rather surprising, because it’s a rather standard method of breaking down a text.
The first phrase that both Godfrey and Carrier focused on in this commentary is, “if indeed one ought to call him a man.”
What Schmidt does is show that this phrase is common to Josephus. He does this by showing similar constructions of this phrase elsewhere. Schmidt then moves on by acknowledging an objection to the phrase, which is that it is often claimed that it seems as if the phrase is moving beyond complementing Jesus, and instead appears as if it’s promoting his divinity.
This is where Schmidt finally gets to his argument regarding the phrase being read sarcastically. This is the point that Carrier latches on to.
As is common, Carrier (and Godfrey to some extent) misrepresents Schmidt’s argument here. According to Carrier, “Schmidt’s thesis depends on us understanding that the phrase ‘if one ought to call him a man’ was meant to ‘sarcastically suggest’ Jesus may have been a demon … which doesn’t really understand how sarcasm works.”
That’s not Schmidt’s argument in any manner. What he shows instead is that Josephus uses sarcastic barbs elsewhere, so this sort of rhetoric wouldn’t be uncommon. And based on this, he states that if one were to interpret the “TF’s statement about Jesus’ humanity as sarcasm, such would then cast negative light on the previous statement that Jesus was ‘wise’ in as much as it too would become sarcastic.”
So where does the idea of Jesus being a demon come into play? Schmidt states: “The statement may thus hearken back to how in the Gospels Jesus was accused of not only being in league with demons, but also of being a demon himself.”
Schmidt is using Matthew 10:25 as an example of how some had denied the humanity of Jesus. It’s giving a similar type of example. Such as how someone says, oh, you know how Dustin used to do it? Yeah, something like that. He uses it to show that in the first century, according to the Gospels, Jews were split on how they saw Jesus, with some speculating that he was divine, while others thought he was in league with demons. Nowhere does he suggest that Josephus, in this phrase, is actually referencing back to this idea.
However, Schmidt doesn’t even say that this was how the text would have been read. He simply says it’s one option. What he’s really doing is showing that there are multiple ways to read this passage, and this explains “why so many Christian writers may have found this particular aspect of the TF to be ambiguous and hence not especially useful.”
This would explain why, even after we see the text being used, this passage in itself is never used. It’s something largely ignored. For Schmidt, the argument is that the text is too ambiguous, so it’s left alone.
Now, after all of this, what Schmidt concludes is not that we must read this text as if it was meant to be sarcastic, as Carrier falsely claims, but that he thinks “the phrase should be interpreted straightforwardly as Josephus expressing diffidence, uncertainty, or ambiguity regarding his personal estimation of Jesus, or on the other hand, he might instead have used the phrase as a way of acknowledging that Jesus was a polarizing figure among his readers, whatever Josephus’ own opinions may have been.”
What this all shows is a gross misrepresentation by Carrier and Godfrey. It’s almost as if they didn’t read the text, or at least they didn’t read it carefully. From here, Carrier summarizes four other articles by Godfrey. However, for the time being, we will just skip them as we can see how big of a mess the first portion was, and honestly, I just have no desire to continue in that vein. Instead, we will skip to the Mason Analysis.
The Mason Analysis
I believe that the Steve Mason analysis may be a worse case scenario for Carrier, as it exposes that he’s working on the view of, rules for thee, but not for me.
Now, before we begin, it is worth noting that Schmidt does utilize Mason a good amount, and even mentions when Mason has a conflicting view. Schmidt does this quite often, where he cites scholars who not only agree with him, but also object to ideas that he makes. At times, these disagreements are hashed out in the footnotes, but that is often the case in a scholarly book.
This seemingly doesn’t sit right with Carrier, who states that Schmidt intolerably abuses his sources and evidence. The example he uses for this is in regards to the use of the word phylon, or tribe, in the TF. Carrier claims that Schmidt just omits the actual data from scholars “whose results he wants to denounce (or erase), and replaces it with bogus data, in order to generate a false result.”
Schmidt’s treatment of the phrase, “The tribe of Christians, who were named from him, has not disappeared,” begins on page 105. The discussion about the term tribe here begins in the second paragraph, and the very second sentence acknowledges that there is some controversy on this matter.
He then goes over this controversy by citing both Thackeray and Mason, highlighting their objections, and then offering a rebuttal.
Now, to be fair, there is a problem here. But it’s the same exact problem that Carrier has. Both are using Mason’s book, Josephus and the New Testament. Carrier links to the 1993 version, while Schmidt cites the second edition, which came out in 2003. While this is a good book, in this case, it’s outdated.
Mason’s updated view on the term tribe here, which we will cover in just a moment, actually is more beneficial to Schmidt, as it eliminates some of the controversy. But for Carrier, it’s a major blemish.
This is where the rules for thee, but not for me, really comes into play. If we remember, Carrier himself argues that you can’t take expert opinion prior to 2014. Yet here, he cites a book from 1993. Part of the reason why he says we can’t cite earlier views is because of new information that has come to light. This is exactly what happened when it comes to Mason. He faults other scholars for using outdated research, but it seems to be fine for him.
Beyond that, this line of thought also hampers Carrier in another way. He claims that the TF’s use of tribe being un-Josephan was proved by Mason, and that this idea was also pointed out by a more recent scholar, Olson. Olson’s paper that he cites here is the 2013 paper, A Eusebian Reading of the Testimonium Flavianum.
So what is this new paper and view by Mason that provides a different idea? It’s his 2017 paper titled, Sources that Mention Jesus from Outside the Circles of Christ Followers.
Before we move on, I think it’s important to point out that Olson is aware of this paper, and because of that, would disagree with Carrier’s claim that he and Mason seemingly agree on this matter.
Olson mentions this in a 2021 post on the Biblical Criticism and History Forum at earlywritings.com. In the thread, Steve Mason on the Testimonium Flavianum, Olson has a long discussion, where he spends some time going over Mason’s reception of Alice Whealey’s work, and how Mason doesn’t see a problem with Whealey’s argumentation in general, and this in part references back to Mason’s 2017 paper, which mentions Olson. And here, Olson quotes the exact statement from this paper that refers to himself.
With just this, Carrier’s attack on Schmidt, as well as his critique, really begins to fall flat as the entire foundation nearly vanishes.
So let’s get to this 2017 paper. This was Mason’s contribution to the book, “Jesus Handbook.” It’s a German book, but Mason also released English versions of his own work, which looks at the sources about Jesus.
It’s part 3 of this work where Mason dives into Josephus and Jesus. And while it’s brief, it’s an excellent treatment. Mason even mentions Carrier in a section where he discusses the James passage in book 20.
Most importantly here, near the end of the discussion, Mason argues that the term phylon, which he translates to as breed, is unflattering, but it does appear to be from Josephus’ hand. He also argues that not only is this term characteristic of Josephus, but it is also rather common in Antiquities 17-19, which is a stylistically distinct section.
With this new study, no longer do we see Mason’s objection or suspicion of the term phylon, but instead him saying that it was characteristic of Josephus.
So what happened in the time period between Mason’s 1993 work, and this 2017 paper? In a 2007 article by Mason, titled Jews, Judaeans, Judaizing Judaism, an article that would be included in his 2009 book, Josephus, Judea, and Christian Origins: Methods and Categories, Mason mentions that in an early review of Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary, the reviewer had taken issue with his editorial decision to use Judean rather than Jewish.
Mason mentions that he had supplied a footnote about the subject, but it was rather brief. So he decided to write about it more adequately, and also add a “contribution to a fundamental question in historical research: the problem of appropriate categories.”
On page 161, of his book, Mason breaks down how individuals such as Josephus use some of these categories. Here, he mentions how the term ethnos, “stood in varying relationship to tribes.” These were not meant to be used for scientific precision, but could be used to distinguish a variety of groups. As Mason states, “later writers of diverse ethnic origins (including Strabo and Josephus) employed ethnos and its usual companions as an exceptionally robust taxonomy for classifying social phenomena they saw around them.”
In many regards then, this new information by Mason largely invalidates the argument that Carrier is creating, as his argument is based on outdated information. In addition, Mason’s updated information directly challenges the arguments that Carrier is attempting to make.
Further invalidating Carrier’s argument is that he misrepresents Eusebius’s use of the term tribe. Carrier claims that Eusebius “chose to ‘insert’ the word into Trajan’s letter to Pliny.”
What Schmidt shows though, on page 224-225, is that while Eusebius does use the phrase (the tribe of Christians) twice, “both instances occur in quotations that Eusebius makes of a summary of Emperor Trajan’s letter about Christians.” So Eusebius isn’t inserting anything into Trajan’s letter, but instead is offering a summary of the text. This summary, as Eusebius tells us, is derived from a Greek translation of the Latin Apology of Tertullian.
While we don’t have this translation, we do know that in the original Latin of Tertullian’s Apology, the summary provided by Tertullian of Trajan’s letter, does include the term genus, or race, which is roughly synonymous with the Greek term phylon, or tribe.
What this suggests then is that Eusebius is not inserting anything into the text, but is “guilty only of preserving the term and being honest about his sources.” If we recall back to Mason’s argument about categorization, this connection between race and tribe is further supported, as these would stand as companion terms.
After misrepresenting Schmidt though, Carrier carries on by questioning how Schmidt would be allowed to make this claim, a claim Schmidt didn’t actually make, a claim Carrier creates himself, essentially creating a strawman. But even more, Carrier uses this misrepresentation to then declare that “we can no longer trust Oxford’s review process when it comes to Christian propaganda like this.”
Simply, Carrier should be ashamed of such a baseless attack. He’s attempting to poison the well, seemingly so he can simply outright dismiss peer-reviewed material he doesn’t like. He’s trying to sow a sense of doubt and suspicion about the peer-reviewed process here, that he can later weaponize. And this entire argument is based on him misrepresenting actual arguments, and either ignoring, or being unaware of more current research.
Instead, Carrier just doubles down on this misrepresentation. In the very next paragraph, he once again claims that Schmidt says “Eusebius is just ‘quoting’ Trajan.” On page 106 of Josephus and Jesus though, what Schmidt actually says is, again, that Eusebius “is quoting a summary of a letter of Emperor Trajan derived from Tertullian,” in the first case, and in the second, quotes the very same summary.
Deceptively, Carrier then claims that on page 224-225 of his book, Schmidt “implies maybe Eusebius is quoting Tertullian.” But as we saw above, that’s not the case. Schmidt repeats the same thing, that Eusebius is quoting a summary of Emperor Trajan that derives from a summary by Tertullian, but he actually goes into more detail about this.
More so, Schmidt fully documents this in his footnotes. But Carrier seems to ignore all of this because he objects to the idea that Tertullian was actually quoting Trajan. But as Schmidt makes very clear, Tertullian wasn’t quoting Trajan, but was summarizing what Trajan had said.
At this point, Carrier’s argument is based on so many misrepresentations, and again, outdated information, that everything he builds from here simply isn’t valid. The argument he seems to be objecting to here is not Schmidt’s argument, as we’ve clearly seen.
The Hansen Analysis
Finally, we are now getting to the home stretch, with the last analysis, the Chrissy Hansen analysis.
Before we even go into this, we have to realize something. As Schmidt admits, he was unaware of the recent article by Hansen when his manuscript was with the publisher. But he still wanted to offer a brief reply. This is something Hansen acknowledged in her review, and even states that Schmidt’s response here “was certainly meant as a fair interaction.”
Now, it is true that Schmidt doesn’t fully engage with Hansen. Carrier implies this is purposeful and is part of Schmidt’s tactics, but as we’ve already seen, Carrier has grossly misrepresented Schmidt in nearly every way.
Instead, the reason for this is simple. His book was already at the publisher, and as he had already addressed a number of the points previously. But even still, he wanted to offer a “brief reply.”
Ironically, if Schmidt had simply decided not to add an addendum to an appendix of his book, to even give this brief reply, Carrier would most likely still have condemned Schmidt for not engaging with the text at all. Quite simply, this is a case where Schmidt was going to be damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t.
And honestly, that’s all I have to say on that analysis. Reading Hansen’s response is probably wise. It’s a good critique, and hopefully we see that sort of discussion continue in future works. As for Carrier’s response, it’s so filled with the same old constant attacks that I have no desire to trudge through it.
Conclusion
Carrier concludes his expose in much the same way he began it. A long series of attacks. He attacks both Schmidt and Oxford Press, as well as the peer-reviewers themselves. It’s largely one giant ad hominem.
Yet, after reading Carrier’s response, it becomes questionable if he actually read Schmidt’s work, because the manner in which he clearly misrepresents it is just shocking. And it’s not just Schmidt that he misrepresents, as was shown throughout this response.
While Carrier often rails against Schmidt for being an apologist, and for his work not rising to academic standards, Carrier displayed the same tactics that are so common among apologetic responses. And clearly, his response was anything but academic.
One good thing Carrier does though is link to what a real professional critique looks like, when he cites Hansen’s work.
What’s truly sad about all of this is that so many mythicists are simply taking Carrier’s lead here. They see Carrier throwing mud, and they take that as a sign of what’s acceptable. Instead of actually having a real discussion, a meaningful conversation, what we see instead is just constant name-calling, while refusing to actually engage.
And overall, this sort of pushback is what we see so often in apologetic circles. Because actual engagement may make one question their position. It may challenge their views. And while it may not fully convince them that a different view may be valid, it can make someone actually take the other side more seriously. Apologists of all kinds don’t want that.