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In the early chapters of Christian history, two towering voices shaped the narrative of faith, mission, and church identity: Luke and Paul. While both stand shoulder to shoulder in our New Testament, John Dominic Crossan, the author of Paul the Pharisee: A Vision Beyond the Violence of Civilization, argues they often stood on opposite sides of a fundamental question: What makes someone an apostle?
Luke, in Acts of the Apostles, paints a picture of community, structure, and apostolic succession anchored in eyewitness testimony and collective discernment. Paul, in contrast, stakes his authority on divine revelation—a direct call from the risen Christ.
So who's right? And, more importantly, why does this disagreement still matter?
Paul: Apostolic Outlier or Divine Insider?
Paul's claim to apostleship was radical. He wasn't there for Jesus' ministry. He wasn't at the crucifixion. And he certainly wasn't one of the Twelve. In fact, he persecuted the early Jesus movement. However, for Paul, what mattered was this: Christ had appeared to him.
In Galatians 1:11-12, Paul writes with almost defiant certainty:
"I did not receive [the gospel] from any human source… but it came through a revelation of Jesus Christ."
For Crossan, this is theological rebellion. Paul is saying you don't need institutional approval to speak with divine authority. Revelation outranks tradition.
To Luke, that's a problem.
Luke's Acts: Apostles Are Witnesses
In Acts of the Apostles, Luke presents a very different authority model. Apostles are defined by experience: they walked with Jesus, witnessed his resurrection, and were part of the founding community. When Judas dies, the group replaces him, but not just anyone qualifies. Only those who had been "with us from the beginning" (Acts 1:21-22) could be considered.
In Luke's eyes, apostleship is not an individual calling; it's a communal role.
Crossan points out that Paul's story is barely mentioned in Acts. When it is, it's retold in ways that diminish the force of Paul's own voice. Paul's letters, which are the earliest Christian documents, are full of conflict, raw theology, and radical declarations. Luke's Acts, written later, smooths those edges. The Paul we meet in Acts is tamed, communal, and even deferential to Jerusalem leaders. This isn't the Paul of Galatians.
This is Luke editing the revolution.
Authority at Stake: Revelation vs. Institution
At the heart of this conflict is the question of apostolic legitimacy. For Luke, authority comes from connection, and apostolic succession follows a lineage.
Paul breaks that mold.
He claims that the Spirit can speak directly to anyone, anywhere. His letters overflow with urgency. He's not waiting for a council's permission to preach. In 2 Corinthians 11, he even defends his suffering and weakness as signs of his apostleship.
Crossan sees this as the early church wrestling with the democratization of revelation. Is the Spirit bound to tradition? Or can it bend the rules?
Luke's Smoothing, Paul's Disruption
Why does Luke seem to sand down Paul's sharp edges? For Crossan, the answer lies in history.
By the time Luke was writing, the Jesus movement was growing and being watched. A wild apostle who claims personal revelation might be dangerous. Stability, hierarchy, and unity are safer.
So, Luke subtly reframes the story.
Paul is still important in Acts, but he's not a solo rebel. He consults the apostles in Jerusalem. He defers to their judgments. He's harmonized into the narrative. The prophetic fire of Galatians is cooled into the diplomatic language of Acts 15.
Luke isn't lying; he's managing a movement.
But in doing so, Crossan argues, Luke may have muted the revolutionary core of Paul's message: that the Spirit is wild, that justice can't wait for consensus, and that God doesn't always work through official channels.
Two Visions, One Church?
So, who had it right—Paul or Luke?
Crossan doesn't force a binary answer. Instead, he invites us to sit in the tension. Luke's vision offers order, continuity, and a church built on shared memory. Paul's vision is raw, immediate, and driven by divine urgency. One favors community tradition, and the other favors personal encounters.
Why It Still Matters
The debate between Luke and Paul isn't just ancient history. It echoes in every conversation about who gets to speak, lead, and represent God's will.
Do we trust the institution or the outsider?
Do we look for credentials or for calling?
Do we build consensus or follow conviction?
For Crossan, wrestling with these questions is essential. Because Christianity didn't emerge from a single voice, it was born from tension, argument, and the explosive power of resurrection hope.
Read more in Paul the Pharisee: A Vision Beyond the Violence of Civilization by John Dominic Crossan to explore how early Christian voices debated power, legitimacy, and the Spirit's call in a world hungry for justice.


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