Alex O'Connor doesn't just debunk Christmas myths; he dismantles the very framework we use to judge whether the Nativity story is history or fiction. In a conversation with theologian John Nelson, O'Connor argues that the most compelling evidence for the historical nature of the Gospels isn't that they lack supernatural elements, but that their authors genuinely believed they were recording facts, not crafting allegories. For the busy listener tired of superficial holiday takes, this piece offers a rare, rigorous look at why the birth of Jesus was treated as a historical event by the earliest Christians, even when the details seem impossible to modern ears.
The Historian's Dilemma
The core of O'Connor's argument rests on a counterintuitive premise: the presence of miracles doesn't automatically disqualify a text from being historical in the ancient world. He notes that modern readers instinctively categorize supernatural conceptions as myth, but O'Connor insists, "I actually think that Matthew and Luke thought what they were doing was historical and that the earliest Christians if we can call them that would have understood these stories to be taken historically." This distinction is crucial. It shifts the debate from "Did this happen?" to "Did they believe it happened?"
O'Connor supports this by pointing to the literary style of the Gospels. He explains that Matthew begins by echoing the genealogies of Chronicles, while Luke uses the distinct language of the Septuagint, the Greek translation of Jewish scriptures. As O'Connor puts it, "Matthew sees himself as continuing that biblical narrative," suggesting the authors were anchoring their stories in a recognized historical tradition rather than inventing folklore. This framing is effective because it respects the intent of the ancient authors rather than imposing modern skepticism on their methodology.
We're dealing with ancient biographers who are quite different to modern ones in that they are happy to include elements which are deemed supernatural and probably sometimes they actually believe them.
Critics might note that ancient authors like Plutarch often distanced themselves from such stories, acknowledging the implausibility of divine impregnation. However, O'Connor counters that the average person likely held a more "anthropomorphic conception" of these events, making the Gospels' straightforward claims more consistent with popular belief than elite skepticism.
The Bethlehem Conundrum
The conversation then pivots to the most persistent historical objection: Jesus was known as "Jesus of Nazareth," yet the Gospels insist he was born in Bethlehem. O'Connor acknowledges the skepticism of modern scholars who view the Bethlehem birth as a "theologum," or a theological statement rather than a historical one. He admits, "Modern scholars have been very skeptical that Jesus was born in Bethlehem for a couple of reasons," primarily because the location seems too convenient for a Davidic Messiah.
However, O'Connor introduces a compelling "chicken and egg" scenario that challenges the idea that the birthplace was invented solely to fit prophecy. He cites scholar Jonathan Roland to argue that there were no second Temple Jewish sources describing a Messiah as coming from Bethlehem. Therefore, as O'Connor reasons, "Matthew is reading Micah 5:2 in a messianic way, but there's nothing about that text which is actually about the Messiah." This suggests Matthew may have found a scripture that fit a known historical fact, rather than fabricating the fact to fit the scripture.
It seems like a bit of a weird census. Not to mention the fact that no such census is reported historically. And so like well why? Oh well because it means that they have to go back to Bethlehem where if there is some theological convenience in in being born in Bethlehem that's why this this story exists.
O'Connor doesn't shy away from the historical glitches, such as the census under Quirinius occurring a decade after the death of King Herod. He suggests that Luke might have been trying to explain how a man from Nazareth ended up born in Bethlehem, perhaps using a known but misdated census as a narrative device. Even if the census is fictional, O'Connor argues, "that doesn't necessarily mean that the birth in Bethlehem is fictional too. That might be in fact why the story was created."
The Weight of Tradition
The dialogue also touches on the tangible details that ground the story, such as the shepherds watching their flocks. While skeptics argue that shepherds wouldn't be outside in winter, O'Connor and Nelson joke about the warm climate of the Holy Land, noting that it is "quite a loose peg on which to hang" the argument against a winter birth. O'Connor emphasizes that the shepherds' presence is "one of the least certain of the so-called misconceptions that surround Christmas."
The discussion concludes with a nod to the linguistic evidence of Jesus's identity. O'Connor highlights the anecdote of Peter being identified by his Galilean accent, a detail that reinforces the idea of a specific, historical person rooted in a specific region. As O'Connor remarks, "I've always liked the fact that we know that Jesus had a northern accent," a small but vivid detail that humanizes the theological debate.
I genuinely cannot think if you're looking for like a gift recommendation, I actually cannot think of a better PhD thesis on the physical appearance of Jesus to buy as a gift for somebody.
While the tone remains light, the underlying argument is serious: the Gospels are not mythological inventions but historical attempts to make sense of a life that defied expectation.
Bottom Line
O'Connor's strongest contribution is reframing the debate from the impossibility of miracles to the historical intent of the authors, offering a nuanced view that respects both faith and scholarship. The argument's biggest vulnerability remains the chronological inconsistencies regarding the census, which O'Connor acknowledges but does not fully resolve. For the listener, the takeaway is clear: the Christmas story is far more complex than a simple myth or a straightforward biography, existing in a unique space where history and theology are inextricably linked.