“Christianity, if false, is of no importance, and if true, of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot be is moderately important.” — C. S. Lewis
The Case Before Us
Sir Lionel Luckhoo holds the Guinness World Record for the most successful trial attorney in history, reportedly securing 245 consecutive murder acquittals. His career revolved around verifiable evidence; separating emotional appeals from demonstrable facts, dismantling weak testimonies, identifying contradictions, and determining whether a case could actually survive scrutiny beyond a reasonable doubt. To this day, no one has ever come close to replicating his world record.
Late in his career, Luckhoo, a former atheist, decided to redirect those same critical instincts toward Christianity.
After examining the historical evidence surrounding Jesus of Nazareth, he concluded that the resurrection of Christ was one of the best-attested events in ancient history. “I say unequivocally that the evidence for the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is so overwhelming that it compels acceptance by proof which leaves absolutely no room for doubt.”
That’s a remarkable statement coming from someone trained to pick apart even the most remotely vulnerable cases for a living.
Everyone carries their own biases and preconceived notions into any given topic. Especially when it comes to a subject as debatable and seemingly intangible as religion. Christians are guilty of it. So are atheists. Historians, scientists, skeptics, pastors, politicians; nobody approaches emotionally loaded questions as a perfectly neutral observer. Most people start with a conclusion and work backward from there, collecting evidence like a lawyer assembling a case that confirms their own preferences and predilections.
So for the sake of argument, let’s try something uncomfortable. Let’s temporarily set aside popular opinions, religious or nonreligious devotion, political tribalism, internet cynicism, and even the Bible itself.
We’ve already examined whether the Bible is a historically accurate source, but what if we had to assemble a court case without relying on scriptural evidence? If the New Testament disappeared tomorrow, what could historians reconstruct about Jesus of Nazareth from non-Christian sources, archaeology, hostile witnesses, and ancient records alone?
Surprisingly, quite a lot. Enough, perhaps, to demand a verdict.
The Historical Jesus Did Exist
Internet debates often make it sound like scholars are still arguing over whether Jesus existed at all.
They really aren’t.
The overwhelming majority of historians (including secular and skeptical scholars) agree on several foundational facts:
Jesus absolutely existed and was alive during the reign of Tiberius Caesar.
He was crucified under Pontius Pilate
He attracted followers during His lifetime
His followers sincerely believed He rose from the dead
Christianity spread rapidly and immediately after His execution
That alone is historically unusual. Because history is littered with failed messiahs, prophets, revolutionaries, and cult leaders. When they died, their movements usually died with them.
Take figures like:
Judas the Galilean
Theudas
Simon bar Giora
Mariccus
Athronges
Benjamin of Egypt
What? You’ve never heard of these religious movements before? Exactly.
These men gathered massive followings. Some inspired revolts. Some were viewed as divine or prophetic. Yet each of them have been all but wiped from history. Their movements fractured, collapsed, or disappeared into mere footnotes of history after their deaths.
Jesus, meanwhile, was publicly tortured and executed by the most powerful empire on earth… and somehow His movement exploded afterward. Despite persecution, torture, and even death for his followers for hundreds of years.
Christianity did not emerge under favorable conditions. It emerged under suspicion, social exclusion, state hostility, and periodic waves of violent persecution. Under emperors like Nero and later during the Diocletianic Persecution, Christians could lose property, legal standing, careers, family ties, freedom, and often their lives.
Diocletian’s campaign was particularly devastating. Scriptures were confiscated and burned. Churches destroyed. Believers imprisoned, tortured, enslaved, or executed. The Roman state had crushed rebellions, dismantled movements, and abolished competing religious systems for centuries.
All things considered, Christianity should have been easier to eliminate than most. Yet despite these incessant attempts to eradicate the movement for nearly 400 years, it spread like wildfire.
That detail alone remains one of the strangest parts of the story.
We often expect the vulnerable of society to be lured into new religious movements or cults. Perhaps they are forced to join against their will. Or they seek a sense of community, belonging, social support, a sense of purpose or identity.
But these were not isolated mystics hiding in caves or beneficiaries of social privilege. Many were tradesmen, laborers, fishermen, wealthy tax collectors, physicians, and ordinary people who had no incentive whatsoever to publicly attach themselves to an executed criminal. No wealth. No political advantage. No cultural prestige.
The only thing they appear to have inherited was oppression, exclusion, persecution, and often death. Nothing to gain; everything to lose.
Which raises the uncomfortable question: Why?
That should bother skeptics much more than it does.
Even Rome Could Not Ignore Him
One of the strongest non-Christian references to Jesus comes from Tacitus, widely regarded as one of Rome’s greatest historians.
Writing around AD 116, Tacitus described Emperor Nero blaming Christians for the Great Fire of Rome. While explaining who Christians were, he wrote that “Christus” suffered “the extreme penalty” under Pontius Pilate during the reign of Tiberius.
That’s an astonishingly important statement.
Tacitus was not a Christian. He disliked Christians. Yet even hostile Roman historians confirmed:
Archaeology adds another unexpected piece of evidence. The Alexamenos Graffito, discovered in Rome and usually dated between the 1st and early 3rd century, contains one of the earliest known visual depictions associated with Jesus’ crucifixion. Etched crudely into plaster, it shows a figure with a donkey’s head nailed to a T-shaped cross while another person stands nearby in apparent worship. Written beside it in Greek are the mocking words: “Alexamenos worships [his] god.”
The image was intended as ridicule, not reverence. But satire often preserves history unintentionally. Whoever carved it clearly understood that Christians worshipped a crucified figure and considered that belief worthy of mockery. Even insults can become evidence.
Furthermore, Pliny the Younger wrote to Emperor Trajan around AD 112 describing Christians worshipping Christ “as to a god.”
Not centuries later. Not after mythology had centuries to evolve… but within the earliest generations.
Suetonius also referenced disturbances in Rome connected to someone called “Chrestus,” referring to Christ. Meanwhile, Lucian of Samosata openly mocked Christians for worshipping “the man who was crucified in Palestine.” Even Christianity’s most hostile observers kept converging on the same core claims.
Mara Bar-Serapion, Sextus Julius Africanus, Eusebius… the list of historical records goes on. For an itinerant Jewish teacher from a conquered backwater province, the breadth of historical documentation surrounding Jesus is historically anomalous. Why is that? The jury may be shifting in their seats now, and wondering if there is something more substantial to this “man” of history.
When Critics Become Corroborating Witnesses
The most fascinating source may be Flavius Josephus.
Josephus was a Jewish aristocrat, military commander, historian, and contemporary of the apostolic age. He personally knew many figures connected to the New Testament world and wrote extensively about first-century Judea under Roman occupation.
In Antiquities of the Jews, he included the now-famous Testimonium Flavianum:
“About this time there lived Jesus, a wise man, if indeed one ought to call him a man. For he was one who performed surprising deeds and was a teacher of such people as accept the truth gladly. He won over many Jews and many of the Greeks. He was the Christ. And when, upon the accusation of the principal men among us, Pilate had condemned him to a cross, those who had first come to love him did not cease. He appeared to them spending a third day restored to life, for the prophets of God had foretold these things and a thousand other marvels about him. And the tribe of the Christians, so called after him, has still to this day not disappeared.”
For years, scholars argued parts of this passage must have been forged or altered by later Christians because it sounded too favorable toward Jesus.
Which is honestly understandable.
A non-Christian Jewish historian acknowledging:
Jesus performed extraordinary deeds
was crucified under Pilate
had followers who claimed He rose
and inspired a movement that refused to disappear
This feels too inconveniently supportive of Christianity. In a court of law, this would be utterly devastating evidence to the case against Christ. So it has to be fake, right?
Recent work by T. C. Schmidt seems to have thwarted that assumption.
Using AI-assisted analysis of ancient Greek writing patterns across Josephus’ surviving works, Schmidt shows that the passage is stylistically consistent with Josephus’ normal writing. Even more interestingly, he suggests older translations may have unintentionally overstated Josephus’ admiration for Jesus.
In other words, Josephus was likely not endorsing Christianity at all. Instead, he was skeptically acknowledging it. And, oddly enough, that makes the passage even more compelling.
Because a skeptical first-century Jewish aristocrat still appears to concede that Jesus:
But Josephus is only one of many historical figures that account for Jesus’s existence, miracles, crucifixion, and/or resurrection. One of the most underrated details in all of this comes from Jewish rabbinic writings preserved in the Babylonian Talmud.
The Talmud contains hostile references to Jesus accusing Him of sorcery and leading Israel astray. This is critically important. Because opponents of Christianity were not generally arguing:
“Jesus never existed.”
They were arguing:
“Of course he existed, but his power must have come from somewhere else.”
Likewise, the Greek philosopher Celsus accused Jesus of learning “magical arts” in Egypt.
Non-Christian historical records and hostile critics repeatedly attempted to explain away Jesus’ miracles rather than deny the claims existed altogether.
Across the board, these sources acknowledge that extraordinary acts, magic, or miracles were attributed to Jesus and attempt to explain them differently.
At some point, dismissing the chain of evidence established here as legend starts requiring more faith than the alternative.
One of the biggest problems for the “legend developed centuries later” theory is timing.
Historians widely believe one of Christianity’s earliest creeds originated extremely close to the events themselves. Scholars reach this conclusion because the material appears stylistically older than the surrounding text in Paul’s letters, uses formal transmission language (“received” and “passed on”), and contains vocabulary and structure that historians believe predate the document preserving it. This timeline matters.
Jesus’ death is usually dated around AD 33. The conversion of Paul is often placed between AD 33–36. Paul then met with early Christian leaders including Peter and James, placing him unusually close to the people involved.
Paul himself creates a historical problem for the skeptics’ case against Jesus.
Before becoming Christianity’s most famous missionary, Paul (aka Saul of Tarsus) was one of its fiercest opponents. He actively persecuted Christians, imprisoned believers, and hunted down followers of the movement during its earliest years.
As a Pharisee, he studied under the famous Jewish teacher Gamaliel, he rigorously studied the Jewish law and was a staunch defender of traditional religious practices, and he and his fellow Pharisees vehemently (and violently) opposed Jesus and his followers. With his role, Paul possessed status, education, religious prestige, political influence, and strong incentives to continue opposing Christianity.
Yet he reversed course completely.
Violent opposition suddenly becoming one of the most outspoken proponents is always noteworthy evidence. A hostile witness willingly suffering for that new position is even harder to explain.
James presents a similar problem.
Jesus’ own brother does not appear in the earliest accounts as an obvious supporter. Yet James later emerged as a major leader in the early church and was ultimately executed for his beliefs. Historians continue debating what exactly changed his mind, but his transformation still demands explanation.
The point is not that these conversions automatically prove the resurrection.
The point is that enemies, skeptics, family members, and persecutors suddenly changing sides this early in the story makes the “slow-growing legend” explanation increasingly difficult to maintain.
Christianity did not slowly drift into resurrection belief generations later. It appears to have started immediately after Jesus’s death. And his resurrection was being attested to by hostile witnesses.
Rebuilding the Story from Outside Sources
Here’s where things become even more difficult to ignore.
Taken individually, each source only contributes part of the picture. But when examined collectively, they allow historians to reconstruct the core gospel narrative without using the New Testament at all.
From hostile Roman historians, Jewish writings, pagan philosophers, archaeology, and early non-Christian records, we can establish that:
Jesus lived during the reign of Tiberius Caesar.
He was known as a wise teacher and wonder-worker.
He had a brother named James.
He attracted devoted followers.
He was believed to be the Messiah.
He was crucified under Pontius Pilate around Passover.
Reports circulated of darkness and earthquakes surrounding His death.
His followers claimed He rose from the dead.
Those followers were willing to suffer torture and execution for that belief.
Christianity spread rapidly throughout the Roman Empire, despite the risk of persecution and death.
Early Christians worshipped Jesus as divine extraordinarily early.
That’s not church tradition; it’s empirically supported evidence.
The Event of the Crucifixion
There is a common misconception that people in ancient times were simple, uneducated, and primitive in their ways. Perhaps they would be more gullible and vulnerable to fall for sleight of hand magic, and an impoverished Jewish carpenter simply tricked everyone. But this is clearly not the case.
The Romans were a wildly advanced civilization and the most powerful empire in the world. They documented citizenship records meticulously. They built roads, aqueducts, military infrastructure, taxation systems, legal codes, and administrative frameworks so sophisticated they still influence governments today (you may have heard of concepts like Rule of Law, the Senate, veto power, civic duties, etc.).
They also became exceptionally skilled at torture, execution, and utterly crushing rebellion. The act of crucifixion was not a vague spiritual metaphor. It was a state-sponsored mechanism of terror designed to maximize humiliation, agony, and certainty of death.
Archaeology confirms this. In 1968, the remains of Yehohanan were discovered near Jerusalem with an iron nail still driven through the ankle bone; our first direct physical evidence of Roman crucifixion practices.
The suggestion that Jesus might have “survived” crucifixion (often espoused by Islam or by intransigent skeptics) becomes essentially impossible to maintain from a historical standpoint.
Roman soldiers who failed executions could face death themselves. If authorities could have simply produced Jesus’ corpse, Christianity would have died on the spot. Instead, something happened that convinced frightened followers they had encountered Him alive again.
Not only is there zero chance Jesus could have survived the crucifixion, but there are several peculiar details about this particular death sentence. First, the Gospel of John describes a distinct separation of blood and water being poured out posthumously from Jesus’ side after he was impaled with a spear.
Many physicians and historians have suggested that was a symptom of hypovolemic shock. This is when the post-mortem blood settles into two separate layers: heavier red blood cells and lighter, clearer plasma. This type of buildup is commonly linked to conditions like pericardial effusion (fluid collecting around the heart) as a result of severe trauma and blood loss. Romans and the ancient medical field would not have had any knowledge of this medical phenomenon. The evidence strongly suggests Jesus was dead and the description of it seems accurate beyond conventional wisdom at the time.
But that’s not the only striking feature of this specific crucifixion. Astronomical models allow historians to reconstruct ancient lunar eclipses with surprising precision. One commonly proposed date for Jesus’ crucifixion is April 3rd, AD 33. Why? Because that date aligns with:
These details corroborate biblical claims of the moon turning blood red, the sun turning dark, and earthquakes occurring after Jesus’ death. Ancient, non-Christian historians like Thallus and Phlegon of Tralles even reference unusual darkness during the time of Jesus’ death, going so far as to explain that there happened to be an eclipse at that very time.
Now these references don’t prove the resurrection scientifically, per se. But the evidentiary standard being established is beyond compelling.
The Probability Problem
Now the case is becoming airtight under cross-examination here. As an additional layer of evidence, if we put the scriptures on the stand, corroborating testimony becomes even more convincing.
Historical evidence tells us whether events occurred. Prophecy asks a different question entirely: could one individual intentionally orchestrate hundreds of detailed predictions written long beforehand?
If fulfilled prophecy genuinely occurred, we are dealing with something beyond coincidence, manipulation, or normal human forecasting. According to the Bible, Jesus fulfilled more than 300 Old Testament prophecies. The odds of this occurring by chance are essentially impossible. Even conservative probability studies focusing on only eight major prophecies produce staggering odds. In his book Science Speaks , mathematician Peter Stoner illustrated it this way:
Imagine covering the entire state of Texas two feet deep in silver dollars.
Mark one coin red.
Throw it somewhere randomly into the pile.
Blindfold a person and ask them to pick the correct coin on the first try.
According to Stoner, this is comparable to the odds of one individual accidentally fulfilling just eight major messianic prophecies. He says, “The chance that any man might have ...fulfilled all eight prophecies is one in 10 to the 17th. That would be 1 in 100,000,000,000,000,000” (one hundred quadrillion).
That’s just eight. And Jesus fulfilled 300.
At this point, the judge is pounding the gavel while operatic singing is bellowing out of the fat lady on the witness stand.
The Verdict
None of these arguments, individually, forces belief. Historians rarely work that way. Courtrooms don’t either. Cases are built cumulatively: independent witnesses, hostile testimony, corroborating records, behavioral evidence, archaeological findings, and explanations that account for the greatest number of facts with the fewest assumptions. That is where the historical case surrounding Jesus becomes overwhelming.
Sir Lionel Luckhoo spent decades doing exactly what we've attempted here: setting aside sentiment, examining the record, and asking whether the evidence could survive scrutiny. He concluded it could. Overwhelmingly.
And now, having walked through that same evidence, consider what any reasonable jury would be asked to weigh:
Hostile Roman historians confirmed Jesus existed and was executed. A skeptical Jewish aristocrat, writing within a generation of the events, acknowledged the miracle claims and the resurrection reports (reluctantly). The Babylonian Talmud, written by people who had every motivation to debunk Christianity, argued about where Jesus got his power rather than whether he had it. Pagan philosophers mocked his followers but never denied he lived. Multiple independent sources, with nothing to gain and everything to lose by admitting it, kept pointing in the same direction.
Meanwhile, the movement itself defies every historical pattern. Every comparable figure (e.g., Theudas, Judas the Galilean, Simon bar Giora) died and their movement died with them. Jesus was publicly executed by the most powerful empire on earth, and his following exploded. For three centuries, Rome had centuries of experience suppressing movements it considered threatening to public order. But Christianity not only survived; it outlasted Rome itself.
The disciples gained nothing from their testimony. No wealth, no power, no protection. Only persecution, torture, and death. And yet there is no historical record of a single eyewitness disciple ever recanting, even under torture.
People die for false beliefs. But nowhere in history do we find large groups of sane people willingly dying for something they personally knew to be a lie.
At some point, dismissing all of this stops being skepticism and starts being its own kind of faith. A faith that every source was wrong, every witness was deceived, every correlation was coincidence, and the most transformative movement in human history arose from nothing, for no reason, and somehow survived every attempt to suppress it.
Occam's Razor asks us to prefer the explanation requiring the fewest assumptions. And the simplest explanation (the one that accounts for the empty tomb, the hostile witnesses, the martyred disciples, the failed suppression, the astronomical correlations, the fulfilled prophecy) is the one that the evidence has been pointing at all along.
But it’s not important what a hostile ancient Rome came to believe. It’s irrelevant what historians agree upon or what statistics confirm for us. It doesn’t even matter what the world’s most successful trial attorney can prove. The only thing that matters is what you choose to do with the evidence. Jesus poses the question to his disciples in the Gospel of Matthew; and 2,000 years later, the evidence confronts each one of us and demands a verdict:
“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”
