Do you know Jesus?
Now you might ask, “Why search for the historical Jesus? Don’t we already know him? Growing up in a Pentecostal Church, there was one question you did not dare answer with a ‘No' or ‘I am not sure’ and it was: ‘Do you know Jesus?’ Your eternal fate depended on it. It was the difference between eternal, blissful heaven or ending up like most of my failed, roasted marshmallows - burnt.
This knee-jerk reaction of affirming the deep and intimate knowledge of Jesus was deeply programmed into us and no-one dared to ask the most logical question: “How am I supposed to know someone that lived 2000 years ago in Galilee, even if I have some writings about him in the Bible?’ Thinking back now, the equivalent question might be: ‘Do you know Shakespeare after reading his manifold works?’ No I don’t. I might know of him, but I can’t know him. Also strangely, and paradoxically once we said the sinner’s prayer and became ‘born again’, it was accepted that we ‘knew Jesus’. which really brings into question what they meant by ‘know’.
In addition we were required to confess a ‘personal relationship’ with Jesus. (Something found nowhere in the Bible, by the way). This cognitive dissonance produced many internal ‘mystical‘ experiences, as I tried to fit into this Pentecostal dogma. It was only decades later that I came to the realisation that the only real relationship I could have with Jesus is through the words that we have of him in the Gospels. And I was ok with that. These Words subsequently became increasingly important to me.
About 4 years ago I became aware that there are scholars who made it their career’s quest to study the life and words of Jesus. Not from a dogmatic perspective, but from a historical perspective. It sparked an interest in me.
The Quest
This quest began when scholars realised the Gospel writers told different stories—sometimes even contradictory ones. To better understand who Jesus was in his own time and place, researchers began separating faith’s portrait from history’s puzzle. Here’s how that search unfolded.
You might think that trying to find out who Jesus really was—behind all the layers of faith, doctrine, and tradition—would be a pretty straightforward historical task. But scholars have been at it for over 250 years, and the journey has been anything but simple.
The whole thing kicked off in the late 1700s, when Enlightenment thinkers started asking uncomfortable questions. Instead of assuming the Gospels were historically accurate, some began treating them like any other ancient texts—filled with contradictions, agendas, and legends. The earliest efforts painted Jesus as a very human figure: maybe a failed Jewish revolutionary or a moral philosopher whose followers exaggerated or invented parts of his story. It was a radical move at the time, but it opened the door for a new kind of inquiry.
By the 1800s, a whole parade of biographies appeared. These “lives of Jesus” often said more about the authors than about Jesus himself—he was reshaped into a gentle liberal, a romantic rebel, or a spiritual sage. But by the early 20th century, the project hit a wall. It became obvious that these reconstructions ignored the Jewish world Jesus actually lived in. The field hit pause.
For the next few decades, many scholars shifted focus. Instead of asking what Jesus really did or said, they turned to how his story was passed on. The Gospels were seen not as history but as theological sermons shaped by the needs of early Christian communities. The question wasn’t “what happened?” but “what did the early church want to say about Jesus?” Some even argued we could know almost nothing about the man himself.
That changed again in the 1950s. Some scholars pushed back, arguing that faith still needed historical roots. They introduced new tools to sift through the Gospel traditions—looking for sayings that didn’t sound like Jewish tradition or early church teaching, reasoning that those might go back to Jesus himself. This approach brought back some historical confidence, though it never quite regained the momentum of the early quest.
Then came a major breakthrough in the 1980s. Instead of treating Jesus as a timeless moral figure or abstract preacher, scholars began taking his Jewishness seriously. Suddenly, the focus was on the world of Second Temple Judaism—its politics, temple practices, prophetic movements, and apocalyptic expectations. Jesus was no longer an outsider to Judaism; he was right in the middle of it.
This shift sparked what became known as the “Third Quest.” Scholars began drawing on archaeology, Jewish texts, and even economic history to paint richer, more grounded pictures. Some saw Jesus as a prophet warning of judgment, others as a social reformer, a healer, a wisdom teacher, or a revolutionary. The portraits multiplied—and not everyone agreed—but the scholarship became far more nuanced and historically serious.
At the same time, new methods emerged. Anthropologists and sociologists offered insights into how movements form and how oral traditions work. Memory studies became a big deal too. Scholars began thinking less about “what really happened” in a courtroom sense, and more about how early communities remembered Jesus, how stories were shaped over time, and how tradition was both preserved and adapted.
By the 2010s, many of the old “criteria” for determining what was authentic—things like “dissimilarity” or “multiple attestation”—were under review. They weren’t scrapped, but people started treating them more like rough guides than hard rules. The field was maturing, even if it was growing more complex.
More recently, there’s been another shift. Scholars have started asking bigger questions—like why the Jesus movement emerged at all, what role it played in its society, and how the memory of Jesus was used to shape community identity. There’s also more reflection on how our modern assumptions shape the kinds of questions we even ask about Jesus. Why, for example, do certain portraits of Jesus appeal in some eras more than others? What does that say about us?
So, where do things stand today?
Most scholars agree on the basics: Jesus was a Jewish teacher and prophet, baptised by John, who attracted followers, caused a stir in Jerusalem, and was executed by the Romans. But beyond that, the details remain debated. Some think he was mostly an apocalyptic preacher expecting the end of the world. Others focus on his parables and social teachings. Some even see him as intentionally provoking a clash with religious authorities to symbolically usher in a new era.
What’s changed is the tone. Scholars today are less dogmatic. There’s more humility—more willingness to admit the gaps and ambiguities. The field has moved from hunting for exact quotes or scenes to exploring patterns, memories, and the ways Jesus was remembered and reinterpreted. The question isn’t just who Jesus was, but why people told his story the way they did—and why they still do.
In many ways, the quest for the historical Jesus says as much about us as it does about him. Each generation has found something different in this enigmatic figure from Galilee. And as long as we keep asking new questions, the search isn't likely to end any time soon.
Do you know Jesus?
I’ll leave you with these questions: ‘Do you know Jesus?, and ‘Would you be ok with it if he does not match your expectations or dogma?’
Coming up…..
Shortly, I want to discuss and summarise the landmark work of E.P. Sanders on the historical figure of Jesus, in order to bring lay readers up to date with this important discipline. It was first published in 1993 and is an excellent example of the strides made by the scholarship by the end of the 20th century.