Unhistorical Jesus, 2

An icon of Saint Mark the Evangelist

How we know Mark was the earliest Gospel

How did students of the four Gospels determine that the earliest of them is Mark? The answer is fairly simple and the case is overwhelmingly clear. How certain is the conclusion? It is so certain that only a small percentage of scholars hold to any other theory. The large agreement among different interpreters of the Gospels that Mark came first is for a simply reason. That reason is what happens when you lay side by side the three “Synoptic” Gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke.

These three Gospels have been called “Synoptic,” a word which means “seeing together,” because they share in common a large amount of material, follow the same basic order, and stand apart from John, whose Gospel is unique among the four.

Long ago people realized you could display the text of the three Synoptic Gospels side by side in columns to form a synopsis or parallel Gospel or a harmony. When you do this you find that a large percentage of Matthew, Mark, and Luke are parallel. They share a large amount of verbatim agreement, though each of the three has unique ways of diverging from each other in small and large matters. Much is the same and some is different.

For a long time, people who have studied the Gospels in synopsis (parallel columns) have referred to “the Synoptic Problem.” That problem is: how do we account for the agreements and differences in the parallel accounts and in the other material in the Gospels? Many of the observations I will share here come from a book that I think is the simplest and best-explained handbook on the topic, by Mark Goodacre, The Synoptic Problem: A Way Through the Maze.

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Editor’s note: The rest of the above article may be read: here.

I must refer again to the bold-typed words in the first instalment of this series. For those priests of the 14 words who are knowledgeable about the secular approaches to the New Testament, the implications of those bolded words are enormous. But for white nationalists who are not so educated in this matter, before you continue reading my Mondays’ essay-review of Carrier’s book, I would recommend a little online research to become familiar with the evidence that Mark was the earliest of the four canonical gospels.

This is fundamental, as the other gospels are mere re-writings of the original Mark gospel, where the authors added fictional material of their own to an already fictional talltale.

Published in: on February 4, 2019 at 12:01 am  Comments (3)  

2019 edition

I recently flipped through the copy of the 2014 edition of The Fair Race that I own and was surprised that, since that year, I have eliminated no less than… fifty essays!

Many of the removed essays were brief, as the 2014 edition has 432 letter-size pages. Unlike that clumsy size for the first edition, the most recent ones of The Fair Race are of regular size for printed books. The 2019 edition for instance (pic above) contains 580 pages.

In the prologue of this last edition I mention the impact that, since the end of last year, Richard Carrier’s book has caused in my vision about the historicity of Jesus. For the same reason, I removed a footnote I had added, in the 2018 edition, within Evropa Soberana’s essay, ‘Rome vs. Judea; Judea vs. Rome’. On that note, now obsolete, you see that the previous year I still believed that there could have existed an ordinary Jew who became deified by the primitive Christian community. Now I believe that the whole story about Jesus was an invention of Mark the Evangelist. To understand the whys see the bold letters in my first essay-review article of Carrier’s book.

Almost ten years ago I discovered the literature of white nationalism, when I lived in the island Gran Canaria, Spain. As can be seen in the metamorphosis recorded in the several editions of The Fair Race, with those 50 eliminated essays (as well as adding other essays), I constantly sharpen my vision of the world. Given my perfectionism, and that I am interested that new visitors of this site open the updated PDF of Soberana’s essay, I have deleted the old PDF of ‘Rome vs. Judea; Judea vs. Rome’ that contained that obsolete footnote. Instead, in the sticky post I have linked the version of Soberana’s essay that now appears in the print edition of 2019, the version without that footnote (see the first comment below).

Such perfectionism has a setback, of course. As I had been linking the old PDF in several entries and even in comments in other forums, when they click on my old links no document will show up. However, the most updated version of Soberana’s essay will always be linked in the sticky post of this site.

If there is a book that now contains the crème de la crème of the literature in favour of the 14 words, it is the latest edition of The Fair Race.

Unhistorical Jesus, 1

Romulus appearing to Proculus Julius.

I have read the first three chapters of Richard Carrier’s book, On the Historicity of Jesus, in addition to the later chapter on Paul’s epistles. In my entry on Thursday, about the dark night of the soul suffered by the Aryans in general and the white nationalists in particular (including the so-called revolutionaries), I mentioned the finis Africae that was in the tower that housed a large library in Umberto Eco’s gothic novel. Following the plot of the novel,[1] if there is a book that a latter-day Jorge de Burgos would like to destroy, it is precisely that of Carrier.

Last Monday I said I was tempted to start reviewing On the Historicity of Jesus for this site. The first pages of chapter 4 convinced me that I should do it.

In ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ I said that all white people are heading to Jerusalem, a metaphor that must be understood in the context of the first paragraph of ‘Ethnosuicidal Nationalists’. How Christianity managed to invert the moral compass of the Aryans, from pointing at Rome to pointing at Jerusalem, is discovered by researching the motivations of those who wrote the Gospels (remember: there’s no historical Jesus, only gospel authors).

Keep in mind what we have been saying on this site about the inversion of values that happened in the West when whites, including atheists, took the axiological message of the gospels very seriously. Based on this and the crucial part of Evropa Soberana’s essay on Jerusalem and Rome, let’s see what Carrier says at the beginning of chapter 4 of On the Historicity of Jesus.

In Plutarch’s book about Romulus, the founder of Rome, we are told that Romulus was the son of god, born of a virgin, and that there were attempts to kill him as a baby.

As an adult the elites finally killed him and the sun darkened, but Romulus’ body disappeared. Then he rises from the dead.

Some people doubted and, on the road, Romulus appears to a friend to transmit the good news to his people (see image above). It is revealed that, despite his human appearance, Romulus had always been a god and was incarnated to establish a great kingdom on earth (keep these italicised words in mind in the context of the quotation below).

Then Romulus ascends to the heavens to reign from there. Before Christianity, the Romans celebrated the day when Romulus ascended into heaven. Plutarch tells us that the annual ceremony of the Ascension involved the recitation of the names of those who were afraid for having witnessed the feat, something that reminds us of the true end of the Gospel of Mark (Mk 16.8) before the Christians added more verses.

Carrier comments that it seems as if Mark was adding a Semitic garment onto Romulus’ original story: a Roman story that seems to be the skeleton on which the evangelist would add the flesh of his literary fiction. The phrase of Carrier that I put in bold letters convinced me that On the Historicity of Jesus deserves a review in several entries:

There are many differences in the two stories [the fictional stories about Romulus and Jesus], surely. But the similarities are too numerous to be a coincidence—and the differences are likely deliberate. For instance, Romulus’ material kingdom favoring the mighty is transformed into a spiritual one favoring the humble. It certainly looks like the Christian passion narrative is an intentional transvaluation of the Roman Empire’s ceremony of their own founding savior’s incarnation, death and resurrection [page 58].

My two cents: White nationalists are still reluctant to recognise that what they call ‘the Jewish problem’ should be renamed as ‘the Jewish-Christian problem’.


[1] The 1986 film The Name of the Rose featuring Sean Connery betrays the real plot of the novel. In the book the bad guy was the librarian Jorge de Burgos and the Inquisitor, Bernardo Gui, a secondary character. In the novel Gui burns the beautiful semi-feral peasant girl at the stake whereas in the Hollywood film the girl’s life is spared. In no way I recommend watching the movie unless the novel is read first (Umberto Eco’s only good novel in my humble opinion).

Mythicism, a closer look

The last few days I have been immersed in the videos and lectures of Richard Carrier about the Christ myth theory, to the extent that his views are shaking my previous point of view about the so-called historical Jesus (yesterday I ordered his latest book, On the Historicity of Jesus: Why We Might Have Reason for Doubt). In this lecture Carrier was younger than he is today but it is a good starting point for his work:

Today I will be reading the article of another mythicist, Stephen Law, published in Faith and Philosophy 2011, Volume 28, Issue 2, April 2011, pages 129-151, which abstract says:

The vast majority of Biblical historians believe there is evidence sufficient to place Jesus’ existence beyond reasonable doubt. Many believe the New Testament documents alone suffice firmly to establish Jesus as an actual, historical figure. I question these views. In particular, I argue (i) that the three most popular criteria by which various non-miraculous New Testament claims made about Jesus are supposedly corroborated are not sufficient, either singly or jointly, to place his existence beyond reasonable doubt, and (ii) that a prima facie plausible principle concerning how evidence should be assessed—a principle I call the contamination principle—entails that, given the large proportion of uncorroborated miracle claims made about Jesus in the New Testament documents, we should, in the absence of independent evidence for an historical Jesus, remain sceptical about his existence.

Law’s full article, ‘Evidence, Miracles and the Existence of Jesus’ can be read: here.