Hello, Robin,
Thank you for your response.
Christians don't deny the Gnostics credibility bases on their independence, but rather because they are inconsistent with what we know to be true about Jesus. None are written by men who knew Jesus while bearing the names of such men (Judas, Thomas, peter, Phillip). All are late (2 & 3 century) documents, and when compared with the reliable history of Jesus (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John) they don't bear any resemblence to what we know about Jesus.
My comments addressed your argument of
extending credibility based upon independence.
As for lack of resemblance, I concur that this is a valid reason for adopting a skeptical posture toward a document. It is a reason I have already introduced as a point of criticism against John: "
[T]he difference in content is not merely incidental, but substantial; the material is not merely unique, yet consonant, but rather unique and incongruous."
Christians accept Johns Gospel because we know that John was the author, the same John that lived with Jesus, was taught by Jesus, and witnessed His death and resurrection.
And which John was this? The gospel itself, of course, does not identify the author by name.
Beyond which: even if the author lived with Jesus, was taught by Jesus, and witnessed the crucifixion and its aftermath, this does not demonstrate that the author's work is accurate or trustworthy. Groupies can harbor quite distorted views of their gurus, based not so much upon actual reality, but upon their personal hopes and phantasies. In addition to which, we may consider the relative tolerance (and even expectation) for margins of flexibility and inventiveness in ancient historiography.
It is most regrettable that we lack first-person testimony from Jesus of Nazareth. I wonder why we encounter such a deficit? If Jesus were the linchpin of divine self-revelation, why would he not supply as many people as possible with his own words, from his own hands?
I wonder if you are "fully aware," because you hold the opinion that you do. Would you mind giving a catalog of said differences that you are "fully aware" of?
So, if I don't hold your opinion, I must not be aware of all the facts?
I "
wonder"ed; you "
must"ed.
It is appropriate, when persons have differing perspectives on an issue, to consider that they might have differing acquaintance with the data. Now, you claimed that you were "
fully aware of the differences that exist between John's gospel, and that of the Synoptics," which is a claim to extraordinary awareness - and such a claim evokes suspicion that the claimant may be prematurely satisfied in their own understanding.
I will be happy to explain some of the difference that I find in Johns Gospel...
Which fall into two categories: (1) relatively pedestrian issues of unique detail or minor narrative distinction; and (2) a citation from the prologue. As I will discuss further below, these do not quite demonstrate a full awareness of the issues at hand.
I will not bother much with the pedestrian issues you have identified. They are not a primary concern.
As for the material from the prologue, this does broach a significant concern:
These verses are a perfect example of how John spoke of Jesus in spiritual fashion. Referring to Jesus as the "light", and the "Word". John also speaks of Christ’s deity...
This provides a serviceable example of how John portrays Jesus in cosmic terms, far beyond what we find in the synoptic gospels. It would be inadequate to pawn this off as a mere distinction of John's, as if it were something the synoptics overlooked. The cosmic/divine character of Jesus in the Johannine gospel is qualitatively different from what we find in the synoptics, and the thundering question is: if Jesus truly were cosmic/divine as thus, how could the synoptic writers possibly neglect such a profound and important datum in their portraiture of Jesus?
Besides which, we may acknowledge another dimension here; you describe John as writing about Jesus "
in spiritual fashion," but there is more to it than that. It is rather plain that John's prologue draws upon philosophical thought from a Hellenistic quarter
(either paralleling or springboarding from certain Jewish thought of the era, which was influenced by Hellenistic paradigms). Traversing beyond the synoptics, John tacks into that foetid estuary where the stream of Jewish faith swirls under the force of mighty tides from external Greek thought.
Now, it is very easy to understand how this development might occur in the context of the first century. But it is rather a different order to validate such a development, when the end result is such a departure from the character of the previous stream of faith. The problem is not merely that John is different here - it is that John is different in such a fundamental way, and in such profane and syncretic terms.
John also speaks of Christ’s deity by stating "All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made.". Perhaps this is why you don't like John's Gospel?
Actually, that particular statement does not demonstrate Jesus' deity - at least, not in the way most Christians understand deity. The
logos theology found here is potentially more nuanced than most Christians appreciate. John's contemporary, Philo, has a significant theology of the
logos, which may be of great relevance to understanding what John is getting at here.
As for "
lik[ing]" John's gospel: as a piece of religious literature, it is artfully composed and historically interesting
(like Yogananda's Autobiography). But I "
don't like" the grievous error the text springboards into.
Perhaps you "
don't like" 3 Nephi?
We should also consider the reliability of the testimony of the person. John by all accounts had a close relationship with Jesus, and witnessed these events first hand.
We would have better grounds for "
consider[ing] the reliability of the testimony of the person" if we could determine who that person was. The gospel itself is anonymous, and its philosophical content and fine composition are not quite what we might expect from John the son of Zebedee (cf.,
e.g., Acts 4:13).
I have not read the historical writing of Muhammad or Paramhansa Yogananda, so at this time I would be unable to engage in a critique of their writings. However I do consider them to be historical writing and they should be looked at in the same light of skepticism as any other historical books.
"
[A]ny other historical books" including the documents of the New Testament?
I affirm that historical books merit some skeptical consideration before their claims are taken at face value - especially historical books that have a clear partisan stance, whether political or religious.
Well it seems that the burden of proof is on you. Why don't you try and make your case, and explain in detail why the apostle’s testimony is less that trust worthy.
It seems that, for some Christians, the "
burden of proof" is chronically upon persons who don't subscribe to their dogmas. One wonders what "
burden of proof" they require of those who
do subscribe.
Anyway, to introduce a few specific items:

We don't have to proceed very far beyond the prologue you have cited to run into some eyebrow-raising material. In John 1:23 we find John the Baptizer quoting Isaiah 40:3: "
I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said." In the synoptics, we certainly find this verse applied to John the Baptizer, but we do not find its citation in his very own mouth (
q.v., Mt 3:3; Mk 1:3; Lk 3:4). Are we to imagine that the other gospels neglected to mention that John himself articulated this connection?
Placing the quotation into John's own mouth is a step in narrative creativity that befits apocryphal narrative, where persons are made to speak, not historically, but iconically, according to pious imagination. The commonly-accepted proof-text associated with John the Baptizer is thus dislocated from the voice of the narrator (as in the synoptics) and invested with John's own tongue.

Moving from the Baptizer, then, to the main character of the gospel, we find that John's Jesus speaks in a rather different way from the Jesus found in the synoptics. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus recurringly stays on the "down-low," asking persons not to speak of his messiahship or his miraculous activity (
q.v., Mt 8:4; 9:30; 12:16; 16:20; 17:9; Mk 1:34, 44; 3:12; 5:43; 7:36; 8:30; 9:9; Lk 4:41; 5:14; 8:56; 9:21); in John, he is not so secretive about his messiahship and/or special personhood (
q.v., 4:25ff.; 10:24ff.).
Rather, John's Jesus goes on and on about himself and how nifty he is, including a passel of unique "I am" metaphors (
e.g., 10:7ff.; 15:1ff.). It is worth noting that in a synoptic witness, God's
people are "the light of the world," while in John it has (characteristically) become all about
Jesus (
q.v., Mt 5:14; Jn 8:12; 9:5).
In the synoptic tradition, Jesus' message is not so much his own person, but rather the Kingdom of God/Heaven (mentioned some 25+ times in Mt; some 10 times in Mk; some dozen-and-a-half times in Lk). But the kingdom of God is mentioned only once in John
(and Jesus refers to his kingdom on one other occasion).

We find in John a distinct treatment of "the Jews," as compared to the synoptic gospels. Usage of the diction itself is telling: Matthew features "the Jews" four times, thrice by Romans and once (neutrally) by the narrator; Mark features the diction four times, all by Romans; Luke features it five times, thrice by Romans and twice (neutrally) by the narrator; John, in contrast, features the diction some
sixty times, often to denote bloc antagonists of Jesus (
q.v., 5:16, 18; 6:41, 52; 7:1, 13; 8:48, 52; 9:22; 10:31, 33; 11:8; 18:31; 19:38; 20:19), and even placing the diction in the mouth of Jesus himself (
q.v., 13:33; 18:36).
This evidences a dislocated perspective, polarized and inattentive to the fact that Jesus and his supporters were also Jews, and that many Jews took no significant stance toward Jesus whatsoever, either for or against. John features here the language and posture of rhetoric, not responsible (or credible) historiography.
We may find further indication of this perspective in John 8:17 and 10:34, where Jesus speaks to Jewish persons of "
your law," as if it were not also his law. Synoptic diction is reserved to "
the law": Matthew features this in the mouth of Jesus seven times (see 12:5 for strong contrast); Luke four times (see 10:26); Mark
(surprisingly) never mentions the law at all. John likewise employs "
the law" on some occasions, but his unique usage of "
your law" is remarkable.

For a final example, we may consider John's treatment of the Eucharist in chapter six. On the one hand, it is curious that Jesus is having a controversy with "the Jews" (including some of his disciples) over the cannibalistic imagery of the Eucharist - before the Last Supper has even transpired! On the other hand, it is interesting that the discourse in chapter six appears to be levelled at an alternate casting of the Eucharist in the early church
(as I have discussed elsewhere), which further raises the question of anachronism and thus ahistoricity
(this, assuming that the eucharistic ritual was first instituted at the Last Supper, and had not been celebrated earlier in Jesus' ministry). And on yet another hand, it is worth noticing that John exacerbates the imagery to be yet more intense and offensive to Jewish sensibilities, dealing with flesh
(sarx)/blood rather than the body
(soma)/blood found elsewhere in the NT; this bears the odor of rhetorical evolution.
We may note, then, a number of hallmarks of ahistorical religious literature from the time period: introduction of Hellenistic philosophical construct; importation of secondary theology or evolved rhetoric into the mouth of an iconic figure; portraiture and/or thematic emphases that contrast with trends in more trustworthy sources; perspective that is dislocated from the historically-appropriate context; and
(likely) anachronism. Such elements alert a sensitive reader to be wary of taking a document at face value (as a fair acquaintance with ahistorical religious literature from the Second Temple/Early Christian periods will bear out).
Which brings us to "
the sniff test." Greater familiarity with a relevant body of literature makes impressionistic appraisal of a document's character both natural and worthy of attention. Perhaps I should not expect an appeal to abstract or aesthetic impression to be convincing
per se, but concrete and clinical analyses are not the only tools available to humanity. Arts can be practically useful, and not only sciences; the more one learns in a field, the more one utilizes abstract and aesthetic tools - and the more accurately so, too.
And would you mind applying the same level of critique to the Torah and see if it holds up?
Allow me the economy of referencing a previous thread
(edited a bit):
kaufmannphillips: I will mention briefly that raising questions and involving critical suspicions does not necessarily result in an utter annihilation of data – in either testament. It is not an all-or-nothing affair, as some might try to portray it. Beyond this, doubt about a narrative’s historical accuracy should not inhibit one’s ability to discover moral/transcendent lessons through it, any more than from a sheer fable.
As for my own religious life, it does not hinge upon the historical sections per se, but upon the legal codes preserved in Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers. Formation and transmission of legal material is qualitatively different from historical literature, to some extent. However, it may be granted that there are relevant avenues for critical inquiry even with the legal codes. These are pertinent and applicable, and I am willing to entertain such objections. I am suspicious of the book of Deuteronomy as a possible interloper to the legal tradition, for example. [Accordingly, I do not conform to the legal codes found in Deuteronomy.]
It is accurate to say that there are broader grounds for critical skepticism toward the Hebrew bible than for the New Testament. [...I]ts production is farther removed from the events it describes (probably), and there may be some archaeological contraindication. [But I have to admit that Hebrew bible studies are less a part of my scholastic activity. The literacy quotient for Hebrew bible would add another seven languages, another 2000 years, and a gaggle of cultures to my load, and I have already pretty well focused my scholastic life on the Second Temple/early Christian period.]
[...]
I should also point out that critical skepticism plays, at most, a partial role in my withholding credence from the New Testament. I withhold credence in large part because the New Testament claims continuity with the Israelite/Jewish faith, but actually involves profound discontinuity. Christianity is, in vague terms, the Jewish Mormonism. Both Christianity and Mormonism claim a continuity with their parent faith which does not actually exist: both make what is not God to be God, and both make God to be what God is not.
As for my devotion to Torah (i.e., the legal codes enumerated above), it is based upon history, but in sizable part my personal history – my decision in the last fourteen years to adhere to its practice as part of my religious life. This is twentieth/twenty-first-century [CE] in nature, not thirteenth [BCE]. [...] I have experienced, enjoyed, and benefited from the sheer practice of Torah for many years, and the present value of its precepts is not dependent upon the historical veracity of its narrative setting in the Hebrew text. But if I came to understand that part or all of the legal paradigm was not acceptable to God, then I would abandon it. Authority rests with God himself. Everything else is ancillary, and if I should understand that God wishes me to disengage from Torah, then so it will be. But whether the Torah came to be part of covenantal relationship with God in the way the Hebrew bible describes or not -- this does not determine whether or not it is a justifiable paradigm for covenant with God in the present day.
Shlamaa,
Emmet