This book sometimes sounds like it is trying to debunk the research
of the Jesus Seminar and to substitute a different set of more conservative
and more balanced critical conclusions. The "real Jesus" of the title
would then seem to be a "more realistic" Jesus, one based on a methodologically
superior historical study. But this turns out not to be the thrust
of Johnson's treatise after all. His criticisms of radical New Testament
critics like Burton Mack and the Jesus Seminar (of which I am proud
to be a Fellow and in whose deliberations I am privileged to have
participated) are finally beside the point.
Johnson gives an altogether false impression that the Seminar uses
some far-fetched and idiosyncratic methodology that respectable scholars
would not deign to touch with a ten-foot pole. (Incredibly, he actually
supplies a list of elite divinity schools whose highly paid professors
are the only ones he considers legitimate scholars!) The fact of the
matter is that most of the Fellows of the Jesus Seminar are far less
skeptical, less methodologically rigorous, than Rudolf Bultmann and
the critics of the previous generation. Their methods and assumptions
differ little from those Johnson and his allies use. Nor are the results
attained by the Jesus Seminar anything particularly new, as anyone
familiar with the last few decades' of biblical scholarship will be
aware. The only thing new about the Jesus Seminar is that it has made
a point of going public with the commonplaces of professional biblical
scholarship.
Traditionally, ministers learn at least a smattering of biblical
criticism in seminary, but they are careful to keep mum about it in
the pulpit lest they arouse the ire of the pious. One suspects that
the Jesus Seminar's decision to go public (caricatured by Johnson
and his allies as crass publicity-hunger) has put people like Johnson
in an uncomfortable position. Those to whom he and his colleagues
are accountable never quite understood what was going on in the scholarly
guild, and now that the Jesus Seminar has blabbed it, Johnson, Richard
Hays, Raymond Brown, and a number of others suddenly find themselves
in the role of Peter, denying their former comrades as many times
as they can before the cock crows.
Ironically, despite Johnson's tirades against New Testament critics
who treat the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles as fiction, his
own lasting contribution to scholarship, his published dissertation
The Literary Function of Possessions in Luke-Acts (Scholars
Press, 1977), is a brilliant piece of the very sort of literary analysis
he fulminates against in The Real Jesus. If he can make the
kind of sense he does of the author's intention in Luke and Acts,
then Luke and Acts are fiction, not history.
All Johnson's subsequent work has been what James Barr calls "maximal
conservatism." In his The Writings of the New Testament, for
instance, he argues for the authentic Pauline authorship of the Pastoral
Epistles (I and 2 Timothy and Titus), an anachronistic dinosaur of
a view rendered pretty much incredible ever since Schleiermacher in
the last century. It is clear that he now longs for the pre-critical
paradise of traditional beliefs about biblical authorship and accuracy.
What happened to change Johnson's scholarly judgment from radical
to conservative? Nothing really. And here is where we discover how
his criticism of the supposedly unsound methods of modem biblical
criticism is just a blind, a smoke screen. Eventually Johnson admits
that historical research cannot yield a definite portrait of the historical
Jesus. That way lies agnosticism.
But then, as so often happens with religious writers, agnosticism
magically transforms itself into fideism, a leap of faith. Instead
of trying to build a plausible, historical Jesus construct out of
elusive and shadowy evidence, says Johnson, we ought to be satisfied
with the Christ of faith, the Son of God character of the Gospels
and of Roman Catholic dogma. This is what he means by "the real Jesus"
— the one the institutional Church thinks its owns the copyright on.
In short, Johnson has no better theory of the historical Jesus to
offer than that of Burton Mack or Robert Funk or John Dominic Crossan.
No, he wants something else entirely, the traditional stained-glass
savior of Christian dogma. It is for him finally a matter of historic
faith, not of historical fact. Of course he feels sure the facts,
could they be recovered, would fit the theological Christ, the "real
Jesus." But how does he know this? By faith!
And this admission sheds some light on all those neo-conservative
traditionalist positions Johnson takes in this book and in his other
recent publications. It would seem that he has opted, as a matter
of theology, for the traditional, "authorized" version of Christian
origins, and so he allows himself in every case to be escorted to
amenable conclusions, not by the data but by simple consistency with
his traditionalist preferences. It is not so much a matter of scholarly
opinion as it is company policy. He has abandoned the task of historical
scholarship to serve as an ecclesiastical spin doctor. He has an institution
and a party line to defend. Let him defend it. But let us be careful
not to confuse the result with historical inquiry.