And I have a plethora.
Seriously, though, I do have a lot of them. I am in the midst of reviewing some I have already started on this blog (but haven’t found the time to finish) and I have a handful I just received that I plan to review this month. Here is the stack I have waiting for me:
Thomas Brodie’s new memoir is interesting. My first impressions were somewhat skewed in two directions prior to even seeing the book: (1) Richard Carrier’s not-so-positive review and (2) my great respect and admiration for Brodie’s work over the past few decades. But I’m not at all impressed with Carrier’s review as I feel it takes the genre of Brodie’s work for granted. Brodie is not writing a ‘mythicist book’, but a memoir about his life, his discoveries, the directions he has taken with his scholarship, and the direction that his scholarship has taken him. As someone who has read (and enjoyed) the memoir of another Irish Catholic New Testament scholar (John Dominic Crossan’s, A Long Way from Tipperary), Brodie’s book fits perfectly within such a category and shines, in my humble opinion. The first few chapters I’ve read demonstrate his struggle with the question of Jesus’ historicity through his time in the ministry, living in different parts of the world trying to teach the New Testament critically as a devout Catholic theologian and as a trained historian. In many ways I’m sympathetic to Brodie’s positions–not because I think Jesus is a fiction, but because I find his reasoning to be justified within the framework of his career as an expert in literary criticism, as someone tested within the field of New Testament. He could not have reached this conclusion lightly and therefore I am sympathetic, even if I disagree with the strength of his premise (i.e., Jesus never existed). But I still have more to read and so I will continue to review it as I can find the time.
Mark Goodacre’s work is always a pleasure to read. It always engages you critically and tends to have a Cartesian quality that challenges those long-held presuppositions of a text about which you never knew you had. When I first read his Case Against Q, I was instantly persuaded (though, admittedly, I did already have my doubts about Q for some time). With the Gospel of Thomas, I likewise started from a position of doubt; that is to say, I suspected that the author of Thomas had a familiarity with the synoptics. Mark Goodacre’s new book does not strengthen my suspicions as much as it forces me to interact intellectually with them. Thomas and the Gospels takes all my inclinations and lays them out for me to see, with a range of textual criticism and analysis for which Mark Goodacre is known. He presents each argument, thus far that I’ve seen, with the intent of demonstrating the familiarity he argues for, rather than simply restating his premise over and over as I’ve seen in so many other studies on Thomas. I anticipate that I will continue to enjoy this volume and the functionally-useful arguments that Goodacre gives throughout. I can’t wait to continue reading this one!
Candida Moss’s new book The Myth of Persecution looks extremely promising, conceptually. I hesitate to speak more about it yet because I am participating in a blog tour for this book in March and would much rather share my thoughts on it then. However, I will say this is on a subject I have blogged about recently.
Changing Perspectives is a relatively new project under the Copenhagen International Seminar Series. The goal of this project is to “publish volumes of collected essays and research articles, which have had a significant effect on the methods and scholarly research of its author as well as on the field of Old Testament and its related disciplines in the course of the last 50 years.” I have received two volumes of the four to review: Thomas Thompson’s volume and Niels Peter Lemche’s volume. I am confident in saying that both of these volumes are must-owns for anyone who wants to do serious scholarship in the field of Old Testament and literary criticism. They are exceptionally important. Some of the articles are known to me through my years of dialog with Thomas, who has on occasion directed me to them prior to the publication of this book. However, some are new to me and many of which I would have to order through inter-library loan or pay to get my hands on them. Thankfully, having them in this volume solves all of that as I can easily reference a particular argument, especially over stages of its development, which is very helpful. I also learned something about NP Lemche that I had not known: he has a history of being a non-minimalist! Who knew?! I didn’t. But now I do! Thus we see the evolution of his critical mind in action from the 1980′s (where we see a more conservative Lemche) into the present (into the minimalist we all–well, most of us anyway; the smart ones–love). I cannot recommend these two volumes enough and would quite enjoy reviewing Philip Davies’ forthcoming volume as well as John Van Seters’ volume, so long as Acumen is feeling generous enough.
Paul and Jesus by James Tabor looks to be a thought-provoking book. I should preface this short introductory review with the fact that James and I do not always see eye-to-eye, but I like him as a person and find him to be a very serious scholar. And I see both of those attributes reflected in his new tome on Paul. I also see some not-so-distant (yet still faded) reflections of Hyam Maccoby and Gerd Lüdemann, along with Bultmann in this hypothesis. The idea that Paul is really the man behind the movement of Christianity, rather than Jesus, is not new in and of itself. In fact I would agree with this argument, as it seems that Paul’s theological foundation has played a pivotal role in the early Christian movement. I won’t say much more until I’ve completed the book, but I do believe this title is worth every New Testament scholar’s consideration, as Tabor presents some challenging arguments that must be dealt with in new ways (as the old ways simply do not cut it, as Tabor demonstrates), even if his premise does not convince a whole lot of people (though particularly those in the more conservative wings of scholarship will find his reconstruction of the early Christian movement unpalatable).
Finally, we come to it at last. But what exactly it is… Well, I am just not sure. I get the feeling that Douglas Templeton is trying to do something very, shall we say, flamboyant with the literature, make it burst forth from the pages as would a description of a novel as explained by Derrida. I’m just not sure what is going on and the volume comes across as very pop-culture-meets-anecdotal-meetup-group-esque. I want to like this book, but it is so weird I just can’t begin to get attached to the discussion (that is, when I find it). Honestly, I don’t think I have a firm enough grasp on the functionality of the book, if there is such a thing, to appreciate it. Someone, I’m sure, will love it. That certain ‘someone’ just isn’t me.