Unbelievable

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.” (Matthew 28:1-7)

          When you write fiction, you can make your story as wild as you want. When you write nonfiction, you have to be careful. Real life is often a lot stranger than the stories you read, but if you try to tell someone the truth, they may not believe you.

            This is why Matthew 28:1-7 is the worst, and best, possible first report of the resurrection. The event was unbelievable in the first place. People don't rise from the dead, well... except for the widow's son (I Kings 17), and the son of the Shunammite (II Kings 4), and the widow's son (Luke 7) and Jairus' daughter (Luke 8) and Lazarus (John 11)... but other than them, people just don't rise from the dead.

            Then, if you did want a true story to be believed, you pick the best possible witnesses: pillars of the community, doctors, university scholars. Especially in that day, you didn't pick women. Women couldn't even testify in court. And if you were going to pick women, you certainly did not pick someone like Mary Magdalene. I mean, get real. The woman was certified as demon-possessed, mad as a hatter, the head loon in a lunatic asylum, nuttier than ...well, you get the picture.

            A third thing you don't do when you want a story to be believed is to reveal that one of the chief actors in the story, one of the people who is proclaiming that it's true - is a liar. Peter wandered around the courtyard for hours, telling everyone who asked that he didn't know Jesus, wasn't one of His disciples (John 18.) Then, within a couple months of saying, "Read my lips, I do not know Him!" he was preaching about Jesus to thousands (Acts 2.)      If you were writing a novel, your readers would enjoy the story. As history, it is unbelievable, and yet the fact that no one in their right mind would concoct such a story expecting to be believed is one of the things that gives this story the "ring of truth."