It is not probable that one modern Christian out of one hundred thousand knows that centuries before the time of Christ the nations annually celebrated the death and resurrection of Osiris, Tammuz, Attis, Mithra, and other gods.
There is a remarkable difference between the evidence for the virgin birth and that for the resurrection. I must here assume that the reader has seen Did Jesus Ever Live? (Little Blue Book No. 1084), in which I discuss the age and respective value, or lack of value, of the various writings of the New Testament. Paul comes first: then Mark (except the last part): and so on. Now the earlier parts know nothing whatever about a miraculous birth of Jesus, but they are quite certain of the resurrection. Unless we deny the genuineness of the whole of the Epistles, which is a desperate venture, Paul was absolutely convinced of the resurrection; and this proves that it was widely believed not many years after the death of Jesus. His insistence in the Epistles shows, of course, that it was disputed. The statement was a piece of folly" and a “stumbling block” to the converts from paganism; precisely because they saw resurrection-celebrations every year. But the belief existed, and Paul was sure of it, within a few years of the crucifixion.
Well, let us examine the story as it is told by the writers of the Gospels. Mark, the oldest Gospel, has the simplest account: that is to say, Mark as you read it in your American bible today. It is the easiest thing in the world to prove that these Gospels have received additions and interpolations. Turn to Matthew xxviii 19: “Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” Not only had Jesus given his disciples exactly the opposite instructions (Matthew x 5-7), but he certainly never baptized, or ordered the baptism of, anybody; and he never taught any cut-and-dried Trinitarian doctrine of Father, Son and Holy Ghost. It took the Church three centuries to settle these matters. Even orthodox theologians, in fact, admit that this ending has been flagrantly tacked on to the Gospel of Matthew in the fourth century.
Now the oldest manuscripts of Mark end at v 8 of ch. xvi. The rest of the last chapter is in an entirely different style, and it flatly contradicts what precedes. In v 7 an angel says to the women: “Go your way, tell his disciples and Peter that he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him, as he said unto you.” According to the writer of the Gospel as it originally was, the three women told nobody, for they were afraid. So the new writer (v 9) makes Jesus appear in person to one of the women, and she goes to tell the “mourning and weeping” disciples. They refuse to believe; and a second apparition was heard of by them with the same refusal to believe. These clever men had, presumably, seen daily proof for two or three years that Jesus was God, and Mark says that he had foretold his resurrection to them; but they stubbornly refused to believe in his power to come to life again and they timorously thought that the whole business was ended! The entire passage from v 9 onward is preposterous.
But the earlier part is not much better. The three women went early on a Sunday morning to “anoint” the body of (God) with “spices.” How you anoint a body with spices I do not know; or why they waited until two days after the burial. In Judea in April no one would dream of anointing a body two days dead; and Jewish laws permitted them to go after sunset on Saturday. Moreover, they are supposed to know that the tomb is closed with a stone which they cannot move, but they take no man with them, and they idly wonder (v 3) how they can get it done. Then they find “a young man” sitting inside (what one sits on in a tomb is not clear); and, of course, they cannot tell an angel when they see one-and even the word of an angel only frightens them; and we are asked to believe that three gossipy Jewish women-it would be a greater miracle than the resurrection-had these tremendous experiences, and were expressly ordered to tell them, yet went home and told nobody, even that the body of the Lord was missing!
The truth is that the whole final narrative of Mark is a tissue of interpolations and contradictions. Joseph of Arimathea had already (xv 46) had the body properly prepared for burial. Even the officer in charge of the soldiers is made to say, at the cross: “Truly this man was the Son of God.” A likely expression for a Roman officer; but the chief point is that with all these portents all the relatives and followers of Jesus are smitten with grief and confusion. They are supposed to know that the most sublime thing in history has happened under their eyes:
God in human shape has died and released mankind from the curse. Yet they weep copiously, and are “amazed,” “afraid,” and slink off into quiet corners to whisper to each other. It is a most clumsy fabrication. Obviously, some early life of Jesus, in which he was conceived merely as a good man, and was correspondingly mourned, has been crudely tampered with by these later resurrectionists; and, as the first interpolations were not strong enough, more were added. The Church, which the Catholic imagines as “guarding the deposit of revelation” was improving it every half century.