Why Believe in Jesus of Nazareth?

Today, as part of my Lord's Day observance, I watched the excellent documentary, The Case for Christ, based on Lee Strobel's book by the same name. In the film, Strobel, a journalist for the Chicago Tribune and former atheist, ably presents the evidence--collected over the course of years and with a journalist's critical eye--for belief in Christ.

Here are just a few highlights of the film:

The historical reliability of the Gospels. Strobel argues that, while one may choose to believe or not to believe that the four canonical Gospels (i.e. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) are divinely inspired, one cannot deny that they are reliable historical sources. He notes the scholarly consensus that the Gospels were written within the lifetime of the Apostles (i.e. before 90 A.D.). In other words, they were authored by, or with the assistance of, eyewitnesses to Jesus life, death, and resurrection. Further, since the proclamation of these Gospels was a community event, and that many of these eyewitnesses were still living in the community, they surely would have corrected the Gospel accounts had they strayed from the truth.

Strobel also easily refutes the argument that the Gospels are unreliable due to inconsistencies among the different accounts. He demonstrates that these inconsistencies are relatively insignificant and observes that, in a court of law, were the testimonies of many witnesses identical, the first objection would be "collusion", that the witnesses had conspired to produce a false testimony. In this respect, the small variations among the four Gospels only add to their credibility; they do not detract from it.

The consistent witness to the personality of Jesus. Strobel also refutes the argument that it is impossible to know who Jesus really was or what He really did, considering the proliferation of apocryphal "gospels" and other scriptures, particularly originating from the Gnostics (an early Christian sect that taught that matter was inherently evil and that salvation was achieved through esoteric knowledge, in Greek, "gnosis"). These Gospels, however, are universally recognized by scholars as being written well after the Apostolic era, and present a portrait of Jesus that is often disconsonant with the earlier, eye-witness accounts of Jesus and His ministry.

The joint witness of the empty tomb and the blood of the martyrs. For Strobel, as for most Christians, the primary issue is Jesus' resurrection from the dead. He observes several idiosyncrasies (as we might call them) about the Gospel accounts of the resurrection. For instance, the Gospels report that it was women (including Mary Magdalene, a woman with a dubious past) that were the first witnesses to the resurrection. Strobel argues that, had the story been fabricated, the Gospel authors certainly would not have relied on the witness of women, distrusted as they were in first century Palestine. Further, the Gospels report that it was Joseph of Arimathea, a member of the Sanhedrin (the Jewish governing body that condemned Jesus to death), who offered his new tomb for the burial of Jesus. Surely the Gospel authors would not have reported this potentially embarrassing fact had they fabricated the story. Finally, Strobel observes that after His resurrection, Jesus appears not to a select few, but to hundreds of people. Many, if not most, of these early witnesses to the resurrection gave up their lives in martyrdom rather than deny what they saw with their own eyes, and heard with their own ears, and touched with their own hands. And not only these, but others who were initially opposed to Jesus, such as the Pharisee Saul of Tarsus (a.k.a. Paul the Apostle). It is highly unlikely, Strobel argues, that people would choose to die for what they knew was false.

Strobel, fine journalist that he is, has certainly done his homework. I highly recommend this film to both believer and skeptic alike.

Watch the entire film here (or on Hulu.com):

Justice, Mercy, and "True Grit"

I recently saw the Coen brothers' remake of the 1969 classic True Grit, based on the novel by Charles Portis. The film stars Jeff Bridges (formerly John Wayne) as the aging and cantankerous U.S. Marshall Reuben "Rooster" Cogburn. When an Arkansas man is killed in cold blood by the outlaw Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), his precocious fourteen-year-old daughter, Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld), vows to bring the killer to justice, and hires Coghburn to help her. Joined by LaBoeuf (Matt Damon), a pompous Texas ranger who also has a claim on Chaney, the unlikely pair pursue the outlaw and his gang into Indian territory.

The film begins with a verse from Proverbs: "The wicked flee while no man pursueth" (28:1a). This is a clear reference to Chaney who, after killing Mattie's father and stealing two California gold pieces and a horse, flees the small frontier town, despite the fact that none "could be bothered to give chase." This is consonant with the character's cowardice and slow-wit, but it is also indicative that he still retains a shred of conscience. Indeed, Mattie says, Chaney "must learn that there is nothing free in this world, except the grace of God." The line might strike the viewer as somewhat out of place; what, after all, does God's grace have to do with a story primarily concerned with earthly justice?

[SPOLER ALERT] In the end, Cogburn, with the help of Mattie and LaBoeuf, gets his man, whom Mattie has the pleasure of shooting herself. However, the recoil from the rifle knocks her backward into a pit where she is bitten by a rattlesnake. Cogburn pulls her from the pit, attempts to extract the poison, and rides all day and night to deliver the injured girl to a doctor. As a delirious Mattie looks to the starry heavens, she murmurs, "He's getting away." "Who's getting away, sis?" Cogburn asks. "Chaney," she responds. The line is, I would suggest, an intimation that Chaney, having been served justice on earth, has received grace and mercy in heaven.

In fact, I believe that the entire film is--aside from a rousing good Western--a sustained reflection on justice and mercy (i.e. grace), which are not mutually exclusive categories. Recall Mattie's comment about "the grace of God". This is the law of love, by which God says, "I desire mercy, and not sacrifice" (Mat 9:13). This does not mean that criminals like Chaney should go unpunished, which would be a simplistic denial of justice. It does, however, mean that justice must be tempered by mercy, something that Mattie learns the hard way. In the end, we learn that while Cogburn saved Mattie's life, the doctor could not save her arm, which has been amputated. The symbolism is clear: Mattie's single-minded search for justice has taken a part of her. She is, ever after, an incomplete woman.

Indeed, the true model of both justice and mercy (or love) in the film is the uncouth--and often drunken--Cogburn, who selflessly risks his own life to save Mattie's. He descends into the snake pit in order to pull Mattie out (recall Christ's descent into hell), extracts the poison from her hand (note the close association in Latin of the words for "healer" and "savior"), and delivers her to safety. Not only is Mattie an icon of the fallen soul, but Cogburn is an icon of Christ who heals and saves.

The thematic meatiness aside, the film also boasts some wonderful Old Western action. Particularly delightful is the climactic scene wherein Cogburn rides one against four, reigns in teeth, firing two navy pistols. "I mean to kill you today Ned [the film's other villain], or see you hanged" says Cogburn. "I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man" taunts "Lucky" Ned Pepper. "Ned, you son of a b***h!" Cogburn cries, as he charges forward, guns blazing. You can almost hear the Duke laughing with glee from his seat where Justice and Mercy reigns. In fact, it is reminiscent of the second half of that verse from Proverbs: "but the righteous are bold as a lion" (28:1b).

Highly recommended! The Brothers Coen are (to employ a Hebrew pun) the high priests of film!