Why a “minimal facts” approach is valuable

Many apologists use what is called the “minimal facts argument,” advanced by Gary Habermas to argue for Jesus’s resurrection.

Some Christians do not like the sound of “minimal facts,” supposing that it means we believe as few facts as possible. I briefly want to respond to their concerns here, because the approach, under other kinds of names, appears not only in apologetics but basically in most scholarly dialogue, regardless of the position for which one is arguing.

Scholars and other communicators normally start from common ground, however small or large, before trying to persuade readers or hearers of anything else.

Starting from minimal facts does not mean that we believe or know nothing else than those facts. Almost no one who starts with points of common ground perpetually empties themselves of everything they have previously learned each time they want to dialogue (even though one may be open to learn new things in the course of dialogue).

We communicate with people in terms that they understand, starting where they are for the sake of argument. If I am dialoguing with someone who does not know Greek, for example, I have to explain myself in English, even if I have the Greek text in my head. (Too often I am intuitively taking for granted some background knowledge that my hearer does not really have. In conversation I don’t always catch myself on that, although in writing I often catch it as I am revising.)

Scholars regularly work from common ground in our discussions. In the academy, there are certain ideas taken for granted, including a measure of scholarly consensus on many issues. Scholars debate with one another precisely because we do not all agree with one another, but we do so on the basis of certain working assumptions. We may challenge those assumptions; certainly this includes challenging some opinions that are current majority opinions (which is why majority opinions on various issues fluctuate so often over the course of generations). But we have to do so explicitly rather than taking for granted that someone else shares our unstated premises. It is impractical to throw every issue on the table at once; we try to discuss them systematically.

Did Paul ever start with some minimal points of agreement before moving forward to explain something else? Those familiar with Stoic thought will recognize how much common ground Paul established with his Athenian hearers in Acts 17:22-29 before moving on to points that would utterly challenge their worldview. (Those unfamiliar with it and skeptical of my claim are welcome to consult my Acts commentary, vol. 3, pp. 2626-76.) It is difficult to imagine why Paul would appeal to their “unknown gods” inscriptions (17:23) or quotes from their pagan poets (17:28) if he was not establishing some common ground.

By contrast, Paul quotes Scripture in synagogues (Acts 13:16-47) and preaches to a farming community about a God who gives fruitful seasons (14:15-17). Paul does not agree with everything for the people to whom he is preaching in these cases, but he starts with points shared in common. Otherwise his hearers might not still be listening by the time he gets to the points where they disagree.

Stephen was able to preach a bit longer, communicating material in Acts 7:2-50 that laid a groundwork for what followed, than he could have had he started out with 7:51-53. I imagine some people were already starting to try to shout him down in verse 51. He doesn’t seem to make it past verse 56 before getting assaulted.

Paul addressed the rioting crowd in Acts 22 in Aramaic, the traditional language in Judea. (This language, incidentally, would have shut out his accusers from Ephesus, who probably only understood Greek.) He provides details there that were not necessary in some other accounts of his background, such as being educated under the famous teacher Gamaliel (22:3) and the law-devotion and good Jewish reputation of Ananias (22:12). If Paul had started out with his commission to the gentiles, he probably would not have gotten to preach much about Jesus beforehand (22:21-22).

If we read Scripture in light of the cultural background, we will see that God repeatedly contextualizes the message in terms that the first audience could understand (even if they did not always like it). Many of God’s agents in Scripture did the same, in some sorts of settings. Paul even makes nice to the Corinthians (1 Cor 1:4-9) before correcting them in most of the rest of the letter (1:10—15:58).

Sometimes a biblical writer might, on a secondary point, even temporarily accept for the sake of argument a hearer’s position that is not their own. This is at least what many Christian readers have suggested regarding baptism for the dead (1 Cor 15:29) and sometimes Jesus’s use of Ps 82 (John 10:34-36).

Almost no one who starts with “minimal facts” believes only those facts. Most people, whether atheists or Muslims or Christians, etc., believe more than the common ground they start with in dialogue. Yet out of courtesy we build our case from what we agree on—at least if our intention is to persuade someone. This is not to deny that God often works in other ways. It is also not to deny that in principle we could just have different groups present their positions and then lay them side by side for comparison. But starting from facts that everybody agrees on can be a great beginning for discussion—especially when those facts are pretty significant.

All this is to say: Christians should not be attacking a “minimal facts” approach. They should be celebrating that there are some fairly undisputed facts that really invite consideration even from those who do not share all their views.