The Christ: A Critical Review and Analysis of the Evidences of His Existence — Key Ideas to Explore

The Rhetoric of Demolition

Remsburg’s prose is not neutral inquiry but polemic. He marshals authorities—Emerson, Carlyle, Goldwin Smith—as allies in a campaign to “get rid of Christ.” The preface catalogs atrocities committed in Christ’s name, from persecutions to the Kishinev pogrom, linking theological critique to moral urgency. This rhetorical strategy shapes every chapter: evidence is weighed not for plausibility but for its service to the myth hypothesis. Readers should note how Remsburg frames his own method as exposing “the ghost of this dead god,” a phrase that recurs in variations throughout the text.

Gospel Contradictions as Evidence

Remsburg’s analysis of the resurrection narratives exemplifies his method. He poses a deliberately mundane question: if Jesus appeared clothed after rising, where did he get garments, since his were divided and his grave clothes left behind? The query is typical of his approach—using logical gaps in Gospel accounts to argue for invention. He cites Matthew’s resurrection of saints (27:52-53) as an embarrassment even to believers, quoting Farrar and Milman to show how apologists explain away the passage. The effect is cumulative: each discrepancy, each implausible detail, is treated as a crack in the historical edifice.

The Psychology of Belief

In the closing pages, Remsburg shifts from textual criticism to psychological explanation. He quotes an unnamed work on religious belief: “Granting only a strong emotion and a lively phantasy, we may comprehend at once how, in many lands, to many mourners, the images of their dreams may also become the visions of their waking hours.” Renan’s account of Mary Magdalene’s “strong imagination” is invoked to explain the resurrection faith. Remsburg does not claim certainty about the empty tomb—he admits “this can never be ascertained”—but argues that enthusiasm and grief suffice to generate the narratives. This section reveals the book’s deeper argument: that the Christ myth arose from natural human needs, not supernatural events.

Remsburg’s book is best read as a specimen of early twentieth-century freethought polemic, not as a balanced historical survey. Its value lies in its relentless application of skeptical questions to canonical texts and its willingness to follow those questions into uncomfortable territory. Readers interested in the history of biblical criticism will find here a vivid example of how rationalist arguments were marshaled against orthodox Christianity before the rise of form criticism and the Jesus Seminar.

There’s something tender about spending an evening with Remsburg’s old doubts—almost like visiting a grave you’ve tended for years. His certainties feel quieter now, less urgent. I found myself thinking of other seekers, those who wandered without such hard conclusions. That’s where Seekers after God — Edition Insights came to mind, softer company for the same long wondering.