Abstract
The prolific Richard Bauckham has brought out a second edition of his magnum opus, dealing with eyewitness testimony as the source of gospel material. Simon Gathercole’s in the helpful foreword to this new edition summarises the central argument of the book as ‘to show that Jesus’ teaching was not only transmitted by anonymous masses, but also and very significantly by particular individuals’ (p. xi). For Bauckham, the significance of these named and specific individuals is that they are guarantors of the traditions, and thereby are able to attest to its veracity. This new edition is no mere tweaking of the first edition. The original 538 pages has swelled to 680 pages. In addition to a new preface, the substantial additions to the second edition are the entirely new final three chapters. These in turn seek to develop arguments present in the first edition, or to respond to some of the scholarly criticisms levelled against the first edition of Jesus and the Eyewitnesses. It is these additional chapters that will be the focus of the following comments.
The first of these new chapters is entitled ‘Eyewitnesses in Mark (Revisited)’ (pp. 509–49). Among other matters, Bauckham suggests that originally he did not sufficiently develop his argument concerning the special significance of Simon of Cyrene and the three named women followers of Jesus. In regard to the three women in the passion and resurrection scenes, Bauckham emphasises Mark’s use of verbs that describe visual perception (Mk 15:40–41, 47; 16:1, 4–7). From this observation it is stated that ‘the emphasis on seeing in these references to the women becomes unmistakably a claim to eyewitness testimony’ (p. 522). This leads Bauckham to his even stronger conclusion that ‘Mark’s Gospel claims to be based on eyewitness testimony’ (p. 535), with the chief eyewitness being Peter and to a lesser extent the women whose testimony validates the events surrounding the crucifixion and empty tomb.
The second new chapter (chapter 20) is entitled, ‘Who Was the Beloved Disciple? (Continued)’ (pp. 550–89). Here Bauckham argues that the beloved disciple was an historical person, namely the eyewitness who wrote the fourth gospel. However, this person was not John the son of Zebedee, but a less well-known disciple, the one whom Papias refers to as John the Elder (pp. 550–1). In this chapter Bauckham notes that he deviates from the widespread Patristic view that the beloved disciple was indeed John the son of Zebedee. Originally he had not felt the need to explicitly articulate the reasons for his dissent from that position, because others had done so before him. However, Bauckham notes that ‘among readers and reviewers who would probably identify as “conservative,” my view of the authorship of John’s Gospel has proved the part of my argument with which they most often have difficulty agreeing’ (p. 552). Bauckham states that he would have thought that conservative scholars would have considered this issue of the precise identity of the author of the fourth gospel to be a relatively minor issue, given that he argued that the author was an eyewitness and a disciple of Jesus. Therefore, in response to these concerns Bauckham’s main purpose in this chapter is to present fuller and more persuasive arguments that ‘the Beloved Disciple was not one of the Twelve’ (p. 553). This argument is more than an attempt to placate conservative critics to whom the book is otherwise particularly appealing. It does present one of the most sustained arguments for viewing the Beloved Disciple as an historical person, but not one of the Twelve. Implicitly, it is apparent that Bauckham is content with his earlier arguments that the Beloved Disciple is not a literary cipher, so he does not feel the need to revisit that part of his initial argument—although that may be the part of the original case that is open to more sustained scholarly challenge.
The last and shortest of the new chapters is entitled ‘The End of Form Criticism (Confirmed)’ (pp. 590–615). Here Bauckham colourfully states, ‘I discovered the death of form criticism and reported it. I did not attempt to kill it; I had only to report its death’ (p. 590). Perhaps it is true that Bauckham did not kill form criticism, but in this chapter he certainly wishes to hammer as many nails as possible in the lid of its coffin to prevent the re-emergence of form criticism in any guise. It should be noted that in a number of ways form criticism is the antithesis of the case that Bauckham argues in Jesus and the Eyewitnesses. In opposition to his view of a pristine and stable body of tradition, fixed in its nature and guaranteed by named eyewitnesses, form criticism describes a dynamic process. It views tradition as evolving and being adapted, with the reshaping taking place to align the traditions more closely with the needs of the earlier believers who reflected on the meaning of those stories and traditions. On that model the supposed memories of eyewitnesses do not provide the stability that Bauckham envisages. This is the point that Bauckham seeks to counter in strong terms. He argues that while Jesus traditions were used in preaching and teaching, that this was not the primary process of transmission. Instead, he argues ‘that the Jesus tradition was transmitted independently of its use’ (p. 604). Further, he states that ‘traditions were preserved for the sake of their use, but not by means of their use’ (p. 605). Bauckham attempts to unpack this by envisaging a person with acknowledged authority rehearsing part of the Jesus tradition, ‘and then a teacher would draw out implications for the situation and needs of the community’ (p. 606). Bauckham admits that the same person could perform both roles, but the two activities could be distinct. This proposal has little direct evidence to support it, and the proposed person who is the acknowledged authority seems to be little more than an ‘oral bible’, prior to the writing down of the gospels. It is perhaps difficult on this scenario of oral stability to account for the emergence of four discrete early gospel accounts, as well as the host of non-canonical gospels. These critiques have in part already been raised by Catchpole and Tuckett. Bauckham attempts to address the objections raised in reviews of the first edition of his book. However, one is left with the impression that Bauckham is missing some of the fundamental points made by several of his early reviewers, especially in relation to the questions raised about the transmission of Jesus traditions and the role of eyewitness memory is establishing the fixity and authenticity of the stories and traditions concerning Jesus.
There is no doubt that Bauckham’s landmark work will continue to be widely read and cited, especially by those looking for strong arguments concerning the reliability of the Jesus traditions contained in the canonical gospels. Bauckham describes the purpose of his book in this vein when he writes of Jesus and the Eyewitnesses that, ‘it is rather an attempt to validate the Gospels themselves as sources that are historically trustworthy at the same time as being testimonies of faith’ (p. 615). Bauckham certainly does not resile from any of the major claims made in the first edition of this influential volume. Instead, he responds to challenges that have been levelled, and shores up arguments that he concedes were not fully developed. Whether these new additions have made the arguments more persuasive is open to debate, and one expects that this book certainly will continue to create debate. Its re-issue, in expanded form, leads one to ponder anew some of its central claims, which in turn open up perennially important issues for understanding the transmission of the Jesus tradition during its earliest stages.