If the authors of the gospels would have been the liars that you claim they were, they would have omitted those details
For example if woman where not considered reliable witnesses why inventing that women witnessed the empty tomb?............ if I want to invent (and lie about) a story why would I claim that my 3yo daughter is the principal witness of the ghost? …. People consider 3yo children unreliable witness, so why not lying and inventing a better witness.
But granted we “don’t know for sure “ that the authors where no lying so by your standards you won the argument.
Because several reasons. One is Marks theme was "the least shall be first"
The parables of Jesus are also full of the reversal of expectation theme (Mark
4:30-32,
7:15,
8:35,
10:29-30,
10:44,
12:1-11), and as I already noted, Mark explicitly agrees with the program of concealing the truth behind parables (
Mark 4:11-12,
33-34). And so, the empty tomb story is probably itself a parable (just as John Dominic Crossan argues Mark’s entire Gospel is in
The Power of Parable), which accordingly employs reversal of expectation as its theme. The tomb
has to be empty, in order to confound the expectations of the reader, just as a foreign Simon
must carry the cross, a Sanhedrist
must bury the body, and women (not men)
must be the first to hear the Good News.
This is also why, contrary to all expectation, Jesus is anointed for burial
before he dies (
14:3), which is meant to summon our attention when the women go to anoint him after his death (
16:1), not understanding it’s already happened, and only to find their (and our) expectations reversed by finding his body missing, and a young man in his place—and this with an explicit verbal link to the exchange of one thing for another in
Ecclesiastes 4:15—for both Mark and Ecclesiastes speak of walking under the sun and seeing the youth who “stands in place” of the king, just as this youth does in Mark—and just as Mark’s tomb door is explicitly linked with another reversal-of-expectation narrative in Genesis, regarding the fate of Jacob at the well. The expectation is even raised that the tomb will be closed (
Mark 16:3), which is yet another deliberate introduction of an expectation that Mark will then foil.
Just as reversal of expectation lies at the heart of the teachings of Jesus—indeed, of the very gospel itself—so it is quite natural for Mark to structure his narrative around such a theme, too. This program leads him to ‘create’ thematic events that thwart the reader’s expectation, and an empty tomb is exactly the sort of thing an author would invent to serve that aim. After all, it begs credulity to suppose that so many convenient reversals of expectation actually happened. It’s more credible to suppose that at least some of them are narrative inventions; and probably, all of them. One such invention could easily be the empty tomb. And as we saw above, an empty tomb would have made a tremendously powerful parabolic symbol, rich with meaning. And all the evidence lines up with Mark having constructed it for exactly such a purpose. None stands against.
The women are also symbolic
The Women
Even the names of the women in Mark’s empty tomb tale are likely symbolic. Salome is the feminine of Solomon, an obvious symbol of supreme wisdom and kingship. Wisdom was often portrayed as a feminine being (Sophia), so to have her represented here behind a symbolic name rich with the same meaning is not unusual. Mariam (the name we now translate as Mary) was famously the sister of Moses and Aaron, who played several key roles in the legendary escape from Egypt, including her connection with that famous well of salvation that acquired her name, and being the one who led the Hebrew women in song after their deliverance from Egypt—and Egypt was frequently used in ancient Jewish literature as a symbol of the Land of the Dead, just as crossing the wilderness into Palestine symbolized the process of salvation, escaping from death into Paradise.
But Mark gives us two Mary’s, representing two aspects of this legendary role. “Magdalene” is a variant Hellenization of the Hebrew for “tower,” the same exact word transcribed as
Magdôlon in the Septuagint—in other words the biblical Migdol, representing the borders of Egypt, and hence of Death. In
Exodus 13, the Hebrews camped near Migdol to lure the Pharaoh’s army to their doom, after which “they passed through the midst of the sea into the wilderness three days” (
Numbers 33:7-8), just as Jesus had done, on their way to the “twelve springs and seventy palm trees” of Elim (
33:9), just as we know the gospel would be spread by twelve disciples and—according to
Luke 10:1-17—seventy missionaries. Meanwhile, “Mary the mother of Jacob” (many don’t know it, but “James” is simply Jacob in the original languages, not a different name) is an obvious reference to
the Jacob, of Jacob’s well, whose connection we already see Mark intended. This Jacob is of course better known as
Israel himself.
So these two Marys in Mark represent Egypt and Israel, one literally the Mother of Israel; the other, the harbinger of escape from the land of the dead. Thus they represent (on the one side) the borders of the Promised Land and the miraculous defeat of death needed to get across, and (on the other side) the founding of a new nation, a New Israel—both linked to each other, through the sister of the first savior, Moses, and Aaron (the first High Priest), and mediated by Wisdom (Salome).
Another clue that these women are symbolic is the fact that they don’t exist in Mark’s story at all except on three symbolically connected occasions: they attend the death, the burial, and the resurrection of Jesus—the very events Mark adapts from that sequence of three Psalms (though Salome is omitted from the burial:
Mark 15:40,
15:47,
16:1). In Mark’s Gospel we never hear of any of these women until then, not once in the entire ministry of Jesus. Nor are any of them explained (who are they? why are they there?). They simply appear, serve their mythical function, and vanish (none exist in Acts, either, after Acts 1 when the public history of the church begins in Acts 2; they do not appear to have ever been historical).
All this seems a highly improbable coincidence, there being exactly three women, with exactly these names, appearing exactly three times (that Mark’s fabrications tended to love the deployment of patterns of three I demonstrate in Chapter 10.4 of
Historicity), which evoke exactly those scriptures, and triangulate in exactly this way, serving no other purpose and given no other explanation, all simply to convey an incredibly convenient message about the Gospel and the status of Christ as Messiah and miraculous victor over the Land of the Dead. What are the odds?
Maybe you’re not as impressed by all these coincidences as I am. But you don’t have to agree with my analysis of the evident symbolism of these women. The only thing that matters is that this interpretation cannot be ruled out—there’s no evidence against it, and some evidence for it. Mark even tells us he expressly approves of concealing symbolic meanings behind seemingly mundane narratives (see
Mark 4:11-12,
33-34), and the names and events of this narrative fit the deeper meaning of the Gospel with surprising convenience.
These details therefore provide an available motive to invent a visit to the tomb by women, especially these particular women, which means we cannot assume the Christians would instead have invented a visit by men first. We cannot demonstrate that they would. For inventing a visit by women carried even more meaningful symbolism, and was even more in accordance with the Gospel message itself. It therefore cannot be said Mark had “no reason” to contrive these women as the finders of the tomb. We have no evidence these women ever existed before his invention of them. And we have no evidence he names them for any other reason than their symbolic role in the text.
