In his book Did Jesus Exist? New Testament scholar Bart Ehrman explains how the phrase kingdom of God is used in the New Testament: it might be a little surprising to some readers; he writes,
“When people today hear the term kingdom of God, they typically think of heaven, as the place where souls go once they die. But that is not what [was] meant …. For Jesus the kingdom was an actual place, here on earth, where God would rule supreme. … The kingdom was a real tangible place, where love, peace, and justice would prevail.” (p. 305)
Ehrman then refers to a few quotes from the gospels to show this is the case.
Matthew’s gospel portrays Jesus telling his apostles that, in this new kingdom, they were all going to be rulers sitting on thrones and judging the twelve Hebrew tribes; we read,
“Jesus said unto them [his apostles], ‘Verily I say unto you, that ye which have followed me, in the regeneration [new age (NAB)] when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.’” (Matthew 19:28, KJV)
Of course, it goes without saying that, if his apostles were going to be rulers, Jesus would still be above his apostles: that is, he would be their head, or the ‘king,’ of this so-called kingdom of God.
Luke’s gospel portrays Jesus thinking that there would be normal eating and drinking in this new kingdom.
“He [Jesus] said unto them [his apostles], ‘with desire I have desired to eat this Passover [meal] with you before I suffer: For I say unto you, I will not any more eat thereof, until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God.’ And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and said, ‘Take this, and divide it among yourselves: For I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine, until the kingdom of God shall come.’” (Luke 22:15–18, KJV)
And again, Luke’s gospel portrays Jesus warning people that they might be left out of this new kingdom unless they measure up; we read,
“There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out.” (Luke 13:28, KJV)
In my article “Adam and Eve—Original Sin” I argued that the story of Adam and Eve is only a myth and, therefore, no original sin was actually committed; consequently, God never expected Jesus to atone for original sin or our sins. So, what did God desire of Jesus? I believe God begot his Son, Jesus, so that he could show us, through example, the best way to live this gift of life: never to use violence and establish a personal relationship with God.
In fact, John’s gospel portrays Jesus telling the Pharisees, “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10, KJV) I don’t think he was talking about riches, here. And elsewhere, the same gospel portrays Jesus telling his apostle Thomas, “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” (John 14:6, KJV) Assuming Jesus did really utter this last clause, I interpret it as ‘through Jesus’s teachings’ because they apply to all humans: that is, not through belief that Jesus is God’s Son, nor through his intercession with the Father.
Humanity, in the time of Jesus, was completely lost: it had no sense of direction; perhaps the same as nowadays, I would dare say. God did not beget his Son to die atoning for our sins; Jesus’s death was a consequence of his mission from his Father. Let me explain why.
In one of the undisputed Pauline letters, First Corinthians, we read,
“Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought: But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world unto our glory: Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” (1 Corinthians 2:6–8, KJV, emphasis mine)
Notice the phrases: “not the wisdom of this world” and “the wisdom of God.” What, exactly, is the “wisdom of this world” and how does it differ from “the wisdom of God”?
Violence has been the drug of choice of humanity throughout all ages. Particularly, Rome’s ‘theology’ at the time of Jesus was: conquer by the violence of war, and once victory is achieved, it would be followed by ‘peace’—the famous Pax Romana, Latin for ‘Roman Peace.’ There would be nobody left in the conquered land, anyway; so, there had to be peace: everybody was killed by the Roman legions.
In this article, I shall show how God gradually guided Jesus what to teach humanity: that the kingdom of God can only come on earth through the non-violent means of justice, sharing, equality, love, kindness, mercy, and truth; followed inevitably by true peace and happiness. Naturally, the rest of the world did not have much faith in this type of behavior. In fact, Matthew’s gospel portrays Jesus saying,
“From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven [i.e., kingdom of God (see next section)] suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.” (Matthew 11:12, KJV)
[Apparently the evangelist momentarily forgot that Jesus (and not himself) was supposed to be speaking in this verse.] What this verse means is that, since the time of John the Baptist (i.e., around 30 CE) to the time of Matthew’s writing his gospel (i.e., around 80 CE)—that is, for about half a century after Jesus died—Jesus’s opponents had been trying to prevent people from accepting the kingdom of God and to snatch it away from those who had received it by violent means. From experience we know that frequently justice is hindered and injustice perpetrated by violent means. John the Baptist’s and Jesus’s deaths were two obvious examples of such violence—not to mention Peter’s and Paul’s in the mid-60s CE.
Kingdom of Heaven
From various texts in Matthew’s gospel, one can deduce that the author’s congregation was “originally strongly Jewish-Christian” (NAB, p. 10). So, in most instances, the author substituted the expression ‘kingdom of heaven’ for ‘kingdom of God’ out of respect for the name of God, which was normally “avoided by devout Jews of the time” (NAB, Matthew 3:2n).
Let us examine one obvious case, from the synoptic gospels, just to prove the point.
Mark’s gospel portrays Jesus saying,
“Jesus answereth again, and saith unto them [his disciples], ‘Children, how hard is it for them that trust in riches to enter into the kingdom of God! “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” (Mark 10:24–25, KJV, emphasis mine)
Luke’s gospel has practically the same thing.
“When Jesus saw that he [the would-be follower] was very sorrowful, he said, ‘How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through a needle’s eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” (Luke 18:25, KJV emphasis mine)
But Matthew renders these verses,
“Then said Jesus unto his disciples, ‘Verily I say unto you, that a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.’” (Matthew 19:23–24, KJV, emphasis mine)
That is, Matthew uses the phrases “kingdom of God” and “kingdom of heaven” synonymously.
As mentioned, to Jesus the kingdom of God was a kingdom of justice, non-violence, sharing, equality, peace, happiness, love, kindness, mercy, and truth. However, the phrase “kingdom of heaven” in Matthew’s gospel introduces overtones of the afterlife. This is where and how our confusion started from.
In the above verses by the three synoptic evangelists, Jesus warns us that it is much harder for rich people to join the kingdom of God, which is an earthly kingdom. Of course, he says it in the form of a hyperbole and should not be taken literally; however, it is true that rich and powerful people (addicted to money and power) tend not to play fair and to lord it over others. Obviously, such an attitude is not conducive to an environment of sharing and equality. So, the erroneous conclusion from these verses by later Christian churches (equating the ‘kingdom of God’ or the ‘kingdom of heaven’ to heaven) was that most, if not all, rich people will go to hell. But the kingdom of God (or equivalently the kingdom of heaven) was supposed to be a kingdom on this earth.
It might also interest the reader that, according to Wikipedia, there are other considerations to this rather strange last verse. It says that fifth century CE Christian church patriarch “Cyril of Alexandria … claimed that ‘camel’ was a Greek scribal typo where kamêlos (… camel) was written in place of kamilos, (… meaning ‘rope’ or ‘cable’)” (Wikipedia: “Eye of a Needle,” accessed March 4, 2022).
Still, it is rather impossible to thread a rope through the eye of a needle, but it is more in line with the verse’s exaggeration—it makes more sense.
Alternatively, Wikipedia adds:
“The ‘Eye of the Needle’ has been claimed to be a gate in Jerusalem, which opened after the main gate was closed at night. A camel could not pass through this smaller gate unless it was stooped and had its baggage removed. This story has been put forth since at least the 15th century, and possibly as far back as the 9th century. However, there is no widely accepted evidence for the existence of such a gate” (Wikipedia: “Eye of a Needle,” accessed March 4, 2022).
Personally, I tend to lean toward this latter explanation.
Something like this explanation is a classic example of how biblical concepts become tangled over time. Obviously, this verse became quite an incentive for a rich person to donate one’s wealth to the church on one’s death-bed.
Anyway, the most important point, I want to make here, is that the phrases ‘kingdom of God’ and ‘kingdom of heaven’ in the gospels are one and the same thing. They both mean a somewhat utopian ‘kingdom’ of the heart on this earth and have nothing to do with the afterlife. If the reader is still unconvinced, recall the words of the prayer commonly known as the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ or the ‘Our Father.’ It says, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven”—notice my emphases.
Kingdom of God
The kingdom of God can only come on earth if everyone pitches in.
Imagine a place where people do not drive on one side of the road, they drive any which way they feel like and they have no driving rules. It would be a nightmare trying to get from one place to another. Cars will have to move much more slowly and cautiously. We would drive nowhere close to one hundred kilometers (c. 62 mi.) per hour or faster.
Likewise, think of people’s behavior in a building on fire—they push, stumble, and step on one another: with the result that hardly anyone gets out and saves oneself. Meanwhile, had they tried to organize themselves and move out rationally, and perhaps some of them tried to control the fire in the meantime, many more would be able to escape the fire.
Our solidarity in sin, has, over time, constituted dominating systems that are now equivalent to what one might call ‘powers of evil’ that one person alone cannot defeat. Besides the fact that the whole of society must realize that we must all act together, I doubt whether we can achieve this by ourselves; that is, without any direct help from God himself.
About two millennia ago, Jesus came to help us accomplish this—he jump-started things for us—but after two-thousand-odd years, it still did not happen. It looked like it was going to happen initially:
“All that believed were together, and had all things common; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need. And they, continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat [food] with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with all the people. And the Lord added to the church daily such as should be saved.” (Acts 2:44–47)
But it stalled. So naturally we expect Jesus to come a second time to finish the job. But, would a second coming make any difference?
I think a wait of two thousand years for Jesus’s Second Coming should be enough for us to reconsider our thinking. I think God is waiting for us to wake up. We need to give up our drug of choice first—violence. God will help us; but first we must realize what we are doing wrong and decide that we really want to do this together. Then Jesus will be in our midst again, not necessarily physically, but certainly in spirit: when the whole of humanity is living in a kingdom of God’s making.
We figured out that we must drive on one side of the road—that all of us must do it. We have learnt to trust what the other person is going to do on the road. But we have not yet figured out what to do in a burning building. Complete honesty and trust in God are the requirements for his special assistance. Personally, I do not think I could think and act rationally in a burning building—unless God gives me special help at that very moment. I have, however, in the past, experienced special help from God that enabled me to do things that I did not believe I could do. Perhaps the reader has too—on very rare occasions.
Let us, however, for a moment, forget about rare situations like terrorism, ideological or ethnic wars, and burning buildings; let us concentrate on everyday life and share what we have with others: practice will then enable us to do the harder things, when and if the time comes. God assures us that he will be there for us on the side of good and truth, ready to help us. He also assures us that the power of good is greater than the power of evil. Like light has an advantage over darkness: it simply cuts through darkness. He also assures us that doing good to others is contagious and spreads like wildfire or a weed. In fact, Mark’s gospel portrays Jesus saying,
“Whereunto shall we liken the kingdom of God? Or with what comparison shall we compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when it is sown in the earth, is less than all the seeds that be in the earth: But when it is sown, it groweth up, and becometh greater than all herbs, and shooteth out great branches; so that the fowls of the air may lodge under the shadow of it.” (Mark 4:30–32, KJV)
However, it so happened that in the process of preaching the kingdom of God, Jesus got killed by the church and state of his time; he was an accusatory stumbling-block to both. Jesus (and his Father) probably knew that he was going to end up killed because of this, but he had to show us that in following him, we too will probably have to suffer. Jesus died as a consequence of our sins—because of our sins, because of the way the world had become—not to pay for our sins. It is easy to confuse these two concepts.
The sequence of what normally happens is clearly shown in John’s gospel. First the church accused Jesus.
“The Jews answered him [Pilate], ‘We have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God.’” (John 19:7, KJV)
Then the state accused Jesus.
“But the Jews cried out, saying, ‘If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar’s friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar.’” (John 19:12, KJV)
Finally, the church joined the state in accusing Jesus.
“The chief priests answered: ‘We have no king but Caesar.’” (John 19:15, KJV)
In failing to recognize a man of God and a miracle-worker, like Jesus, one might wonder where God fitted in the lives of these chief priests.
Jesus came to challenge the social paradigms of his time: proclaiming a better life. He did not come to form his own government; in fact, he apparently avoided kingship according to John’s gospel.
“When Jesus therefore perceived that they would come and take him by force, to make him a king, he departed again into a mountain himself alone.” (John 6:15, KJV)
He also taught that God and state are compatible.
“Jesus answering said unto them [the Pharisees and Herodians], ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’” (Mark 12:17, KJV)
God is not interested in a political kingdom: he only wants to ‘reign’ in our heart/mind.
John’s gospel portrays Jesus conversing with the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, during his trial.
“Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence [here].’ Pilate therefore said unto him, ‘Art thou a king then?’ Jesus answered, ‘Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.’” (John 18:36–37, KJV)
Jesus here declares that his kingdom (the kingdom of God), unlike any other earthly kingdom, is a kingdom of non-violence and truth. He also declared that this is the reason why he was born—to be the king of such a kingdom—hence, the meaning of ‘Christ the King.’
However, Jesus, like God, wants to reign in our heart—he does not desire a political kingdom: politics and God’s kingdom are, therefore, compatible. What is a little harder to understand is the phrase “this world”; it means the world of those days—the Roman Empire: its ideology, which, as I argued, was based on war, victory, and what it called ‘peace.’
Unfortunately, over time, the here and now changed to the hereafter—getting us off the hook. The clause “but now my kingdom is not from hence [here]” may be misleading: we might think it is a kingdom in heaven. Yet, it is a non-violent earthly kingdom, which has heavenly roots: “as it is in heaven.”
Son of God
An interesting and important question is whether Jesus was aware that he had a mission from God, and that he was supposed to promote this ‘kingdom of God.’
In Luke’s gospel, we read that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit who donated a sperm to his mother, Mary; we read,
“The angel [Gabriel] said unto her [Mary], ‘… Behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest [God] ….’ Then said Mary unto the angel, ‘How shall this be, seeing I know not a man [have no husband]?’ And the angel answered and said unto her, ‘The Holy Ghost [Spirit] shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest [God] shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing [offspring] which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.’” (Luke 1:30–32, 34–35, KJV, emphasis mine)
Assuming this was the case, I presume Jesus’s mother, Mary, would eventually have told him about all this. So, I would not be surprised that Jesus may have considered himself to be literally the Son of God, and that he had to do something about it. Incidentally, Mary’s acceptance of such a role (see Luke 1:38) was breathtaking: in those days, adulterers, especially women, were stoned to death (see John 8:5).
Donating a special sperm so that Mary could conceive Jesus is not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things: God can perform much greater miracles; take, for example, the ‘Miracle of the Sun’ near Fatima, Portugal. I believe that Jesus’s virgin birth did happen (see my article on “Mary’s Virginity”) and that, therefore, Jesus is the Son of God par excellence. But then I do not believe that Jesus is also God, or that he existed before his birth—as most of Christianity tends to believe—I think there is only one God, and Jesus is only human.
In the New Testament, there is hardly any doubt that Jews despised their ruling Romans. For starters they hated paying taxes to Rome, and they considered native tax collectors traitors and even public sinners.
They also hated, in a special manner, the Roman legions. Here is an account of a miracle in Mark’s gospel, supposedly performed by Jesus, showing Jewish sentiments toward the Roman legions.
“They [Jesus and his apostles] came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gadarenes. And when he was come out of the ship, immediately there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains: Because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him. And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones. But when he saw Jesus afar off, he ran and worshipped him, and cried with a loud voice, and said, ‘What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not.’ For he said unto him, ‘Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit.’ And he [Jesus] asked him, ‘What is thy name?’ And he answered, saying, ‘My name is Legion: for we are many.’ And he besought him much that he would not send them away out of the country. Now there was there nigh unto the mountains a great herd of swine feeding. And all the devils besought him, saying, ‘Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them.’ And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea, (they were about two thousand); and were choked in the sea.” (Mark 5:1–13, KJV, emphasis mine)
I find Jesus’s alleged behavior—allowing the evil spirits to enter the swine—somewhat unbecoming of his general character. Moreover, it seems that two-thousand-odd demons’ possessing one person is unlikely. But then, a legion consisting of several thousand (c. 5,000) legionaries might have personified the devil incarnate to a patriotic Jew.
Although Jesus might have performed an exorcism of some sort, I think the account is exaggerated and shows the hatred the Jews had for Rome and its legions. Whenever a Roman colony rebelled, the Romans sent their legions, and they levelled it to the ground: they were hated and had the worst of reputations. Indeed, they also levelled Jerusalem and destroyed its temple in 70 CE. This miracle account reeks of superstitious overtones too; to the Jews of that time, inside a pig was one of the worst places one could end up in—the pig was such a despicable animal: recall the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:15–16). The Roman legionaries’ place was inside pigs. That must have triggered a chuckle.
Furthermore, Jews hated the Roman Empire: revolutions abounded in Israel. The author of Revelation, the exiled John of Patmos, writes against Rome in code form: calling it Babylon (the nation that had exiled the Jews from 597 BCE to 537 BCE), comparing it to a whore, and telling Christians to stop sleeping with the devil, so to speak (Crossan, p. 142).
“I [John of Patmos] heard another voice from heaven, saying, ‘Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues.’” (Revelation 18:4, KJV)
Biblical scholars detect erotic language in this verse; it is crudely telling the Christian church, “Interrupt your intercourse with her lest you become infected by her venereal diseases.”
In his article “Roman Religion,” ancient and medieval history teacher Donald Wasson writes that one wise policy the Roman Empire had was freedom of religion. The Romans did not force anyone to adopt their religion or any of their gods; while, at the same time, they adopted and included most foreign gods with their own—lest the deities might be offended if they did not.
Since the Jews believed in only one God, they did not participate in the worship of the Roman gods, nor did they offer sacrifices to the Roman gods or the emperor—who was declared divine—as the rest of the empire did. Jews were therefore considered ‘atheists’ of some sort by Roman standards, but still they were fairly tolerated because they were firmly established throughout the Roman Empire; albeit they might have been blamed for many a misfortune because of their, so called irreligion (Wasson, accessed March 4, 2022).
So, had the chief priests accused Jesus of claiming to be the ‘Son of God,’ Pilate would have asked them which god and probably told them to get lost. His point would have been that it was a religious matter and that, consequently, it had to be sorted out by the religious authorities.
The problem for the Jews who wanted Jesus dead was that the Romans did not allow capital punishment to be carried out by the local people: only the Roman governor had the authority to execute a death penalty. But the religious authorities wanted Jesus dead for blaspheming—claiming to be literally the Son of God. I cannot say I blame them entirely; we would probably have reacted the same way nowadays if someone were to claim to be, literally, the son of God. So, they had to somehow show the governor conspiracy against the state: a strictly religious accusation would not have been enough for Pilate to consent to capital punishment.
In John’s gospel, initially the chief priests tried to be elusive in their accusations, but Pilate quickly put them in their place.
“Pilate then went out unto them [the crowd], and said, ‘What accusation bring ye against this man?’ They answered and said unto him, ‘If he were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee.’ Then said Pilate unto them, ‘Take ye him, and judge him according to your law.’ The Jews therefore said unto him, ‘It is not lawful for us to put any man to death.’” (John 18:29–31, KJV)
True, the Jews despised the Roman colonists so much they would never have delivered one of their own to Pilate: probably not even if one was truly a revolutionary.
So that did not go too well with Pilate: they knew they could not execute him. So, they resorted to another plan: trying to explain blasphemy to Pilate.
“The Jews answered him, ‘we have a law, and by our law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God.’” (John 19:7, KJV)
But the chief priests probably also knew that this was not going to fly: Pilate could not care less about their laws or religious beliefs.
This was probably something that Jesus had claimed for the longest time. So, why did the chief priests not arrest him for it before? Because it was strictly a religious charge, and that would not have impressed Pilate at all.
They needed something more politically sensitive. Such opportunity was, apparently, given them by Judas Iscariot, who, according to the gospels, is said to have ‘betrayed’ Jesus. So, the crucial question is; when the gospels say that one of Jesus’s apostles, Judas Iscariot, betrayed Jesus: what exactly did they mean, what did he tell the religious authorities to make them think they had enough evidence to have him convicted of a capital offence? What did they pay Judas thirty silver pieces for?
This is what enabled the chief priests to bring out their third ace up their sleeve—the information Judas Iscariot gave them.
“But the Jews cried out, saying, ‘If thou let this man go, thou art not Caesar’s friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar.’” (John 19:12, KJV)
Where did that come from? Jesus never declared himself king.
New Testament scholar Bart Ehrman, in his book How Jesus Became God, explains what probably happened; we must read between the lines, of course. The gospels give us the impression that Judas Iscariot led the Jewish authorities to Jesus at a time when he was away from the crowds. Ehrman does not buy this explanation. He asks why they did not have him followed. Hiring an insider was totally unnecessary; he argues,
“There are reasons for thinking that in fact Judas betrayed something else. Here are two facts to bear in mind. The first is to reaffirm that we have no record of Jesus ever proclaiming himself to be the future king of the Jews, the messiah, in public context. This is never his message. His message is about the coming kingdom to be brought about by the Son of Man. He always keeps himself out of it. The second fact is that when the authorities arrested Jesus and handed him over to Pontius Pilate, the consistent report is that the charge leveled against him at this trial was that he called himself king of the Jews. If Jesus never preached in public that he was the future king, but this was the charge levelled against him at his trial, how did outsiders come to know of it? The simplest answer is that this is what Judas betrayed. Judas was one of the insiders to whom Jesus disclosed his vision of the future. Judas and the eleven others would all be rulers in the future kingdom. And Jesus would be the king. … He told the Jewish authorities what Jesus was actually teaching in private, and it was all they needed.” (pp. 121–22)
Although many gospel verses identify Jesus with the Son of Man, in the next post, by the same title, I shall show that Jesus did not think himself to be this Son of Man. The Son of Man was a character from the book of Daniel to whom was given dominion over God’s kingdom: he would judge and clean up the world in the end-times. It was a misinterpretation by the evangelists identifying Jesus as the Son of Man.
Reading between the lines of the following subtle, probing question, which in John’s gospel the chief priest asks Jesus right after he was arrested, agrees with what Ehrman contends above.
“The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his doctrine. Jesus answered him, ‘I spake openly to the world; I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing. Why askest thou me? Ask them which heard me, what I have said unto them: behold, they know what I said.’” (John 18:19–21, KJV)
Although the evangelist John portrays Jesus saying nothing different in private than in public, Ehrman argues that Jesus might have said something that could be misconstrued by outsiders. As we saw at the beginning of this article, he apparently told his apostles that in the coming kingdom of God they would all be judges of the Hebrew tribes, and that, by inference, he would be king of Israel. (See Matthew 19:28)
In fact, it is interesting to note that Jesus does not deny most of the Jews’ charges before Pilate. John’s gospel continues:
“Then Pilate entered into the judgment hall again, and called Jesus, and said unto him, ‘Art thou the King of the Jews? Jesus answered him, ‘Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee of me?’ Pilate answered, ‘Am I a Jew? Thine own nation and the chief priests have delivered thee unto me: what hast thou done?’ Jesus answered, ‘My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence [here].’ Pilate therefore said unto him, ‘Art thou a king then?’ Jesus answered, ‘Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.’” (John 18:33–37, KJV)
After this discussion Pilate realized that Jesus was not a military threat: that Jesus was an idealist; he probably also thought that Jesus was just a dreamer, and so from then on he tried to release him. (See John 19:12)
In fact, he later makes a joke of the phrase ‘king of the Jews.’ After having Jesus scourged, he showed him to the crowd, also crowned with thorns.
“He [Pilate] saith unto the Jews, ‘Behold your King!’ But they cried out, ‘Away with him, away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, ‘Shall I crucify your King?’ The chief priests answered, ‘We have no king but Caesar.’” (John 19:14–15, KJV)
Although it seems Pilate was toying with them, this last sentence must have struck him like a rock. Naturally, Pilate could not risk his career for a simple peasant; so, he went along with them in his verdict and condemned Jesus to death.
“Pilate wrote a title, and put it on the cross. And the writing was ‘Jesus Of Nazareth The King Of The Jews.’” (John 19:19, KJV, emphasis in original)
Thus, Jesus ended up the victim of church and state.
In his book God and Empire, biblical scholar John Crossan writes that people in the first century CE could hardly separate (distinguish between) church and state. The early Christians were not only religious but also political: church and state were like the two sides of the same coin. He points out, for example, that even Caesar’s coins had ‘Divi F’ inscribed, which is short for Divi Filius, meaning ‘Son of God.’ In the first century CE, church and state were synonymous, as the Church of England was a few centuries ago, or Christianity in the Roman Empire after Constantine adopted Christianity as the religion of the state. The ultimate question for the early Christians, therefore, was to whom does the world belong: God or the emperor? And how should it be run? (Crossan, p. 117) So, they adopted the Roman emperor’s titles and invested Jesus with them.
According to Unitarian Universalist Pastor Carl Gregg, in the days of the Roman Empire, it was dangerous to declare God king of the whole world because the emperor occupied that position.
“One aspect of historical Jesus studies that almost all scholars actually agree about is that a central aspect of Jesus’ ministry concerned speaking about the kingdom of God. And to speak about God being king, when Caesar had declared himself divine, was audacious to say the least.” (Gregg, accessed March 4, 2022, emphasis in original)
The phrase ‘whole world’ was synonymous to the Roman Empire.
Why is all this not clearly stated in the gospels? Well, following Jesus’s mandate to preach the gospel to the whole world, Christians wanted to infiltrate the Roman Empire (the whole world of that time). Consequently, they could not openly admit that Jesus might have been construed as an insurgent under Roman law, and that he might have been justly condemned by the Roman authorities; so, Christians blamed his death on Jewish envy of Jesus. In fact, even in the earliest gospel, Mark’s, we read, “For he [Pilate] knew that the chief priests had delivered him for envy.” (Mark 15:10, KJV)
The reader should not be naïve enough to think that there are no politics involved in religion. Everyone knew for whom crucifixion was reserved—revolutionaries: there was no need for the evangelists to emphasize it in their writings. Had Christians admitted that Jesus might have been condemned fairly, they would not have been able to settle anywhere in the Roman Empire. Christians tried to integrate and merge with people in the Roman Empire as unobtrusively as possible. They obviously realized they had to somehow pussyfoot around Jesus’s crucifixion in the Roman Empire.
John the Baptist
John the Baptist was also a special person—by God’s standards, I mean. If one were to believe what Luke’s gospel says, his birth was also almost miraculous; we read,
“There was in the days of Herod, the king of Judaea, a certain priest named Zacharias, of the course [priestly division (NAB)] of Abia: and his wife was of the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elisabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless. And they had no child, because that Elisabeth was barren, and they both were now well stricken [advanced] in years. And it came to pass, that while he executed the priest’s office before God in the order of his course, according to the custom of the priest’s office, his lot was to burn incense when he went into the temple of the Lord. And the whole multitude of the people were praying without at the time of incense. And there appeared unto him an angel of the Lord standing on the right side of the altar of incense. And when Zacharias saw him, he was troubled, and fear fell upon him. But the angel said unto him, ‘Fear not, Zacharias: for thy prayer is heard; and thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John.’” (Luke 1:5–13’ KJV)
In short, although Elizabeth was barren and past her age of fertility, she still conceived a son—John the Baptist. As I argued above, I have no problem with miraculous (or almost miraculous) accounts; in other words, I have no reason to question this account since it does not contradict anything else in the gospels.
Now, according to Luke’s gospel, it also seems that John the Baptist and Jesus were related. Luke continues his account.
“After those days his wife Elisabeth conceived, and hid herself five months, saying, ‘Thus hath the Lord dealt with me in the days wherein he looked on me, to take away my reproach among men.’ And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. And the angel came in unto her, and said, ‘Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.’ And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, ‘Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest [God]: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: And he shall reign over the house of Jacob [Israel] for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.’ Then said Mary unto the angel, ‘How shall this be, seeing I know not a man [have no husband]?’ And the angel answered and said unto her, ‘The Holy Ghost [Spirit] shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest [God] shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing [offspring] which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God. And, behold, thy cousin Elisabeth, she hath also conceived a son in her old age: and this is the sixth month with her, who was called barren. For with God nothing shall be [is] impossible.’” (Luke 1:24–37, KJV, emphasis mine)
According to Luke, therefore, Mary and Elizabeth were ‘cousins’; so, chances are that John the Baptist and Jesus knew each other. Now John’s gospel contradicts this (see John 1:31, 33), but since Luke’s gospel was written prior to John’s gospel, I shall assume the former is the correct version of the facts.
Luke continues his account.
“Mary arose in those days, and went into the hill country with haste, into a city of Juda; and entered into the house of Zacharias, and saluted Elisabeth. And it came to pass, that, when Elisabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elisabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost [Spirit]: And she spake out with a loud voice, and said, ‘Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her [Mary] from the Lord.’” (Luke 1:39–45, KJV)
So, it is quite clear from this gospel that Elizabeth, John the Baptist’s mother, somehow knew quite well what was going on with Mary’s pregnancy.
John the Baptist, therefore, probably realized that God wanted something special from him, too, because, I presume, his parents told him about his almost miraculous conception and the angel’s apparition telling Zachary that “he shall be great in the sight of the Lord.” (Luke 1:15, KJV) He, therefore, started a mission of preaching repentance of personal sins and baptizing (symbolizing both cleansing and rebirth by immersion in water) people in the River Jordan: he believed there was going to be an imminent cleanup of the whole world executed by God himself.
I also presume that his mother, Elizabeth, eventually told him about Jesus and Mary: that his relative Jesus was miraculously conceived by the direct action of the Holy Spirit. Consequently, John knew that his relative Jesus was someone even more special—by God’s standards, that is.
As a result, in Mark’s gospel, for example, we read about John the Baptist referring to Jesus’s greatness.
“[He] preached, saying, ‘There cometh one [Jesus] mightier than I after me, the latchet of whose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose.’” (Mark 1:7, KJV)
In Luke’s and John’s gospels (Luke 3:16 & John, 1:27), we read practically the same thing.
John the Baptist seems to have had a fiery personality, so he thought that God would come to clean up the whole world violently: that is, disposing of all evildoers in one swoop fell so that the righteous could live in harmony together. In Matthew’s gospel, for example, we read,
“But when he [John the Baptist] saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees come to his baptism, he said unto them, ‘O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruits meet [evidence (NAB)] for repentance: And think not to say within yourselves, “We have Abraham to [for] our father”: for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham. And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.’” (Matthew 3:7–10, KJV, emphasis mine).
In Luke’s gospel (3:7–9), we read practically the same thing.
But when, decades later, God did not come to clean up the world violently (simply because it is not God’s nature to do such things) all the evangelists toned down John the Baptist’s words foretelling the end of the world as we know it; they wrote that he was only preparing or announcing the coming of Jesus—the Messiah/Christ—the ‘Anointed One’ of God. But that is not quite right; John the Baptist was foretelling a violent divine cleanup of this evil world: like that described in Revelation by the exiled John of Patmos.
John the Baptist might have thought that everything hinged on Jesus, but he was still confused by Jesus’s somewhat passive nature: God’s kingdom, however, was nothing like he or anyone else had expected.
In fact, while he was imprisoned, he sent a couple of his disciples to ask Jesus, point blank, whether he was the Messiah or whether the Messiah was someone else who still had to come.
“Now when John had heard in the prison the works of Christ [Jesus], he sent two of his disciples, and said unto him, ‘Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?’ Jesus answered and said unto them, ‘Go and shew John again those things which ye do hear and see: “The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them.” And blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in [shocked by] me.’” (Matthew 11:2–6, KJV)
Jesus here quotes John several verses from Isaiah (26:19; 29:18–19; 35:5–6; 61:1). Was it a prophecy? Possibly! Personally, I just think it was more like Isaiah’s dream-wish. Although some miracles might have happened in Jesus’s time, we know, for a fact, that all the above wonders stopped happening nowadays.
Judas the Galilean
Before I move on to Jesus of Nazareth, I would like to take a quick look at an important historical figure (also mentioned by first-century-CE historian Josephus) who came from Jesus’s backyard, so to speak, and from whom Jesus might have had inspiration.
In his books The Jewish War and Antiquities of the Jews, Josephus labeled Judas’s resistance a fourth philosophy; the other three being: the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes. Judas preached that God alone was the ruler of Israel, and therefore no taxes should be payable to Rome: in his opinion, submitting to a Roman tax census was, therefore, equivalent to substituting Rome for God. According to Wikipedia, around 6 CE Judas instigated Jews not to register for Roman tax-paying purposes, and whoever complied with the Romans had his house burned and his cattle stolen by Judas’s followers. (Wikipedia: “Judas of Galilee,” accessed March 4, 2022)
Apparently, however, he used no violence against the more powerful and radically retaliatory Romans. According to Crossan in God and Empire, Judas’s resistance was nonviolent: possibly one of the first of its kind. Judas’s followers were willing to suffer torture, martyrdom, as well as the extermination of their kinsmen; but they were unwilling to pay taxes to Rome. Crossan concludes his introduction of Judas the Galilean,
“Thus, Judas [the Galilean], not Jesus, was the first Galilean to proclaim nonviolent resistance to violent injustice in the first quarter of the first century CE.” (pp. 91–94)
I contend that Jesus, being human, might have learnt something from him.
Jesus of Nazareth
Since most of Christianity believes that Jesus is God (or some pre-existing spirit—like Michael the archangel in human form—Reed, accessed March 4, 2022) we frequently assume that he knew everything in advance. It may come as a surprise to the reader, as it was to me, that Jesus was completely human: he learned from his experience, his mistakes, and others’ mistakes. God did not reveal everything to him up front; however, it seems God provided enough happening around him to formulate a good-enough plan of action: God instructed Jesus like us—gradually.
Like John the Baptist, Jesus also probably knew that God wanted something special from him because, again I presume, Mary and Joseph probably told him about his miraculous birth by the Holy Spirit. They probably also told him about the almost miraculous birth of his relative, John the Baptist; Jesus’s first move, therefore, was to join a man of God he knew almost first hand: he went to be baptized by John.
There is hardly any doubt about Jesus’s baptism by John: all four gospels testify to it, and it sure passes the criterion of dissimilarity that New Testament scholar Bart Ehrman explains in some detail in his book Did Jesus Exist? Briefly, an incident passes the criterion of dissimilarity if it is an odd or embarrassing account that has the ring of truth—like Jesus’s crucifixion, say. (pp. 291–93) Mark simply mentions Jesus’s baptism (Mark 1:9); Matthew tries to justify it (Matthew 3:13–15); Luke practically hides it (Luke 3:21); and John only implies it (John 1:32–34). Ever since I was very young, Jesus’s baptism has always bothered me: baptism with water is presumably a figurative cleansing: so, why did Jesus have to be baptized if he was without sin? Possibly, as a ritual to join John the Baptist’s group: the same way we are first baptized to become Christians.
In God and Empire, Crossan opines that, initially, Jesus also probably thought that God would clean up the world through a swift violent action. However, when John the Baptist got arrested and God did not come to his rescue, he learnt from experience; presumably, he realized that violence was not God’s nature: God only uses conviction and conversion. So, from then on, Jesus started to think that, possibly, God’s kingdom was already present on earth, but in ‘seed form,’ and that it would grow slowly to a tree, or like a weed, to immeasurable proportions. (Crossan, pp. 114–15)
How did Jesus think God’s kingdom was being realized on earth? According to Crossan, it involved healing (especially spiritual healing), getting to know one another by eating together, and looking forward to the coming of a new, divine world order—the kingdom of God. (Crossan, p. 118)
Commensality (sharing meals) is a symbol of equality: the celebration of the Eucharist was originally a full meal. In Corinth, however, Paul still found inequalities in the celebration of the Eucharist—better known as the ‘Lord’s Supper’ or the ‘Breaking of the Bread’ in those days. (1 Corinthians 11:17–34) It consisted of three parts: (1) the breaking of the bread (1 Corinthians 11:23–24), (2) the main meal (1 Corinthians 11:25a), and (3) the passing of the wine cup (1 Corinthians 11:25b–26). The separation of bread and wine at the beginning and end of the meal symbolized the separation of Jesus’s body and blood during his sufferings. (Crossan pp. 170–71)
Crossan explains further that equality does not necessarily mean that everyone gets the same thing or the equivalent. One person might be smaller than another, and one might not require the same amount of food. However, everyone’s needs were satisfied, as usually happens in a normal family. (Crossan p. 159)
Now, I have no doubt that the power of performing miracles helped Jesus jump-start the Christian movement tremendously—especially his own resurrection from the dead. But I also think that from Judas the Galilean he learnt the importance of utter non-violence and not trying to avoid paying taxes to the Roman emperor. He also learnt, from John the Baptist, that normally God does not intervene to protect an individual—not even a good individual: like a good father, he is impartial and lets all his children sort things out among themselves.
Starting with the non-violence principle, for example, when Jesus was arrested the night before he was executed, we read the following incident in Matthew’s gospel:
“Behold, one of them which were with Jesus [Peter (see John 18:10)] stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest’s, and smote [cut] off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him, ‘put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.’” (Matthew 26:51–52, KJV)
Jesus then proceeds to heal the servant’s severed ear. (See Luke 22:51)
And regarding paying taxes, in Mark’s gospel, Jesus tells the Pharisees and Herodians,
“Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (Mark 12:17, KJV)
Both Matthew and Luke concur. (See Matthew 22:21& Luke 20:25)
Oddly enough, Mark’s gospel portrays Jesus, like John the Baptist, believing that the kingdom of God would come to earth in full bloom within his generation.
“He [Jesus] said unto them [his disciples], ‘Verily I say unto you, That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power.’” (Mark 9:1, KJV)
Matthew and Luke have similar verses. (See Matthew 16:28 & Luke, 7:27)
The synoptic evangelists (Mark, Matthew & Luke), and probably Jesus himself, seem to have truly believed this—and so did Paul; but they were wrong by almost two thousand years, and counting. (Crossan, p. 127) I think this is enough proof (at least as far as what the gospels tell us about him) that Jesus was only human. Needless to add, these verses pass the criterion of dissimilarity: Jesus didn’t know everything.
So, one can conclude that although Jesus may have initiated God’s kingdom on earth, he also needed a considerable amount of help from God and human experience—the same way we will need God’s help and to learn from experience to be able to bring it along. Can we bring God’s kingdom to earth by ourselves—without any of God’s help? I would say no. Yet, possibly, God might be waiting for us to make a move. But, what can we do? We do not have the power to perform miracles. What chance do we stand if even Jesus failed? Good question!
Disease is a physical ailment that can be cured. Illness is a mental ailment that can be healed: usually the result of a disease, social environment, or lack of resources. Nobody has miraculous powers to cure; however, modern medicine can cure diseases that Jesus cured—like blindness and leprosy. Moreover, everybody can heal family members and friends by a simple smile, words of kindness and understanding, or financial and physical help. In other words, God’s kingdom can still come to earth as Jesus envisioned it. However, all of us must start from the little things; God will then help us achieve the rest. Matthew’s gospel portrays Jesus saying,
“Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” (Matthew 6:33, KJV)
Religion, patriotism, racism, and sexism all tend to be divisive and, consequently, detrimental to the coming of the kingdom of God. We still have much to learn: especially organized religion, which should be in the forefront promoting human equality.
Finally, Jesus learnt something else from his association with John the Baptist. He also realized that when John was arrested, the latter’s movement stalled and eventually ceased; so, he made sure that the growth of God’s kingdom did not solely depend on him: to Jesus, the concept was more important than its leader. The evangelist Mark describes an interesting incident to this effect.
“John [Jesus’s apostle] answered him [Jesus], saying, ‘Master, we saw one casting out devils in thy name, and he followeth not us: and we forbad him, because he followeth not us.’ But Jesus said, ‘Forbid him not: for there is no man which shall do a miracle in my name, that can lightly speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is on our part.’” (Mark 9:38–40, KJV)
Luke relates the same incident, almost word for word. (See Luke 9:49–50) Anybody is welcome to promote God’s kingdom: the more there are of us the better are its chances of success.
John of Patmos
According to Crossan in God and Empire, we have a difference of opinion in the Bible between Jesus and John of Patmos. According to Revelation, John of Patmos also believes that the kingdom of God already existed in his time, but in heaven—not on earth. (Crossan, p. 228) Now, according to Revelation, the kingdom of God will come on earth after the current wicked earth is destroyed by God, and a new one is created; he writes,
“I [John of Patmos] saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy city, [the] New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.’ And he that sat upon the throne said, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ And he said unto me, ‘Write: for these words are true and faithful.’” (Revelation 21:1–5, KJV, emphasis mine)
Notice the clauses: “the first earth … passed away,” “the former things are passed away,” and “I make all things new.”
Crossan concludes that, according to Revelation, the kingdom of God will come from heaven to earth, but only after the earth is destroyed—not reformed: that is, by completely replacing the current corrupt earth. On the other hand, Crossan also adds, both Jesus and Paul believed the new world would come about non-violently: that is, by our cooperating together and adopting God’s recommendations of justice and love. (Crossan, p. 230) Thus, even in the first century CE, Jesus’s followers diverged: Paul of Tarsus accepted Jesus’s method of radical nonviolence; John of Patmos did not. (Crossan, p. 142)
John of Patmos, in the last book of the Bible, believed that God must act violently to get rid of all the evil on earth prior to establishing a new divine world order. So, many Christians ended up waiting for God to act violently; while God is probably waiting for us to participate and cooperate with him to change the world non-violently. The Bible, therefore, again contradicts itself in this matter: leaving it wide open to an individual’s or a church’s interpretation.
To inculcate the last point I make in the previous paragraph, even people who follow the Bible to the point of calling their congregation place the ‘Kingdom Hall,’ Jehovah’s witnesses believe something completely different from mainstream Christianity, either way (i.e., coming from heaven or originating on earth).
According to Jehovah’s witnesses, God’s kingdom on earth will be ruled by 144 thousand people from heaven—with Jesus as king there. Only the righteous will be left on earth, and they will live harmoniously forever in an earthly paradise: very much like the original garden of Eden in Genesis.
The righteous will be granted immortality: that is, resurrected from the dead never to die again. The wicked will die permanently after being punished for their sins in fire. Jesus will then supposedly rule God’s kingdom for a thousand years and then give it back to his Father—God. (Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society, “Good News from God!” pp. 14–15)
In the Lord’s Prayer, we Christians pray for God’s kingdom to come on earth daily; but most of us, early Christians included, do not know or follow what Jesus preached.
Crossan, John Dominic. God and Empire: Jesus against Rome, Then and Now. New York, NY: HarperOne, 2008. (ISBN: 9780060858315)
Ehrman, Bart D. Did Jesus Exist? The Historical Argument for Jesus of Nazareth. New York, NY: Harper One, 2012. (ISBN: 9780062204608)
Ehrman, Bart D. How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee. New York, NY: Harper One, 2014. (ISBN: 9780061778186)
Gregg, Carl. “What Is the Gospel According to You? Three Meanings of ‘Good News’ in Mark 1” in Patheos (posted January 14, 2012): https://www.patheos.com/blogs/carlgregg/2012/01/what-is-the-gospel-according-to-you/.
Josephus, Flavius Titus. Antiquities of the Jews. c. 94 CE.
Josephus, Flavius Titus. The Jewish War. c. 75 CE.
New American Bible: Revised Edition (NAB). Totowa, NJ: Catholic Book Publishing Corp., 2010. (ISBN: 9780899429519)
Reed, David and Penni Reed. “IWas a JW Elder” in Tripod (posted January 10, 1990): https://ed5015.tripod.com/JwElderDavidReed10.htm.
The Holy Bible: King James Version (KJV). Oxford, UK, 1769.
Wasson, Donald L. “Roman Religion” in World History Encyclopedia (posted November 13, 2013): https://www.worldhistory.org/Roman_Religion/.
Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society of Pennsylvania. “Good News from God!” Georgetown, ON: Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society of Canada, 2012: https://www.jw.org/en/library/books/good-news-from-god/.
Wikipedia s.v. “Eye of a Needle”: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_of_a_needle (last edited February 24, 2022).
Wikipedia s.v. “Judas of Galilee”: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Judas_of_Galilee (last edited January 13, 2022).