Scholars generally acknowledge that the “Christianity” as we know it today was simply one among the many varying and competing sectarian beliefs amongst the early Christians in the first three centuries. This form of Christianity was, in fact, a minority faction in many localities and only much later did it attain dominance. Thus, in the first three centuries of Christianity, we are faced with a variety of competing beliefs and sects, with no one dominant or “orthodox” form of Christianity. The prominent New Testament scholar, Bart D. Ehrman, explains :
Christianity in the second and third centuries was in a remarkable state of flux. To be sure, at no point in its history has the religion constituted a monolith. But the diverse manifestations of its first three hundred years — whether in terms of social structures, religious practices, or ideologies — have never been replicated.
Nowhere is this seen more clearly than in the realm of theology. In the second and third centuries there were, of course, Christians who believed in only one God ; others, however, claimed that there were two Gods ; yet others subscribed to 30, or 365, or more. Some Christians accepted the Hebrew Scriptures as a revelation of the one true God, the sacred possession of all believers ; others claimed that the scriptures had been inspired by an evil deity. Some Christians believed that God had created the world and was soon going to redeem it ; others said that God neither had created the world nor had ever had any dealings with it. Some Christians believed that Christ was somehow both a man and God ; others said that he was a man, but not God ; others claimed that he was God but not a man ; others insisted that he was a man who had been temporarily inhabited by God. Some Christians believed that Christ’s death had brought about the salvation of the world ; others claimed that his death had no bearing on salvation ; yet others alleged that he had never even died.1
In a later work, Ehrman further expands on this by observing that what eventually emerged as “orthodoxy” was not the original or majority position among early Christians, but the theological stream that ultimately prevailed through historical and institutional consolidation rather than universal agreement :
“Proto-orthodox Christianity was only one of several competing forms of the religion, and in many places it was not even the dominant form.”2
Similarly, James D.G. Dunn — who is no radical in New Testament studies — concludes :
We must conclude that there was no single normative form of Christianity in the first century. When we ask about the Christianity of the New Testament we are not asking about any one entity : rather, we encounter different types of Christianity, each of which viewed the others as too extreme in one respect or another — too conservatively Jewish or too influenced by antinomian or gnostic thought and practice, too enthusiastic or tending towards too much institutionalization. Not only so, but each type of Christianity was itself not monochrome and homogeneous, more like a spectrum. Even when we looked at individual churches the picture was the same — of diversity in expression of faith and life-style, the tension between conservative and liberal, old and new, past and present, individual and community.3
Competing Theologies in Early Christianity
The diversity among the early Christians is most prominent from a comparative study of the New Testament writings. This internal diversity reflects a broader historical transition in which the Jesus movement, originally a Jewish sect committed to Torah observance, gradually redefined itself as a Gentile religion — often in explicit opposition to Jewish law and identity.4
Within the New Testament canon, we are faced with a variety of diverse theological beliefs and images of Jesus. This theological diversity was not confined to abstract belief but had direct implications for communal practice and ethical identity. The earliest Jesus movement understood itself as a Jewish sect committed to Torah observance, a fact reflected in Jesus’ own affirmation of the Law.5
Yet within the New Testament itself, this orientation is sharply contested. Paul’s insistence that circumcision and Torah observance were not only unnecessary but spiritually detrimental represents a decisive rupture with earlier Jewish-Christian practice.6 This shift was further radicalised in second-century writings such as the Epistle of Barnabas, which allegorised and effectively nullified Jewish law altogether.7 What emerges is not a gradual clarification of a shared ethic, but a fundamental redefinition of religious identity, marking the transition from a Torah-observant Jewish movement to a predominantly Gentile religion.8
Paul’s theology of justification apart from the Law9 stands in direct tension with the Epistle of James, which explicitly declares :
“You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone.“10
Likewise, Paul’s relative indifference to the earthly life and teachings of Jesus contrasts with the Synoptic Gospels’ portrayal of Jesus as a Jewish prophet rooted in Israelite law and prophetic tradition. The Gospel of John, however, advances a markedly different Christology, presenting Jesus as the pre-existent Logos through whom all things were made11. As Raymond E. Brown notes, Johannine Christology “stands apart from that of the Synoptics in both language and conceptual framework.“12
It is important to note that early Christians in the second and third centuries possessed a variety of apocryphal texts, each of which was regarded as “inspired” by different sects. This state of flux will be made more evident in the following sections, insha’allah. The purpose of this article is therefore to document some of the varying — and at times highly divergent — beliefs held by early Christians concerning the nature of God, the Prophet Jesus, and his blessed mother, Mary.
Nature of God and the Holy Spirit
The doctrinal flux of early Christianity is nowhere more evident than in its radically divergent conceptions of God. Early Christian groups disagreed not merely on secondary attributes, but on God’s identity, unity, moral character, relationship to creation, and even gender. These disagreements directly shaped how Jesus was understood in later centuries.
Some Christians affirmed continuity with the God of the Hebrew Scriptures ; others explicitly rejected that God as inferior, ignorant, or even evil. In several Christian movements, salvation did not mean reconciliation with the Creator, but liberation from Him.13
One of the clearest examples of theological rupture is Marcion of Sinope (mid-second century). Marcion posited two Gods : the just but harsh Creator God of the Old Testament, and the previously unknown God of love revealed by Jesus. Tertullian summarises Marcion’s theology :
“Marcion separates the Law and the Gospel, and sets the God of the Gospel in opposition to the God of the Law.”14
Marcion’s theology directly shaped his Christology : Jesus could not truly belong to the Creator’s world and therefore could not possess genuine flesh, linking Marcionite theology to docetic Christologies discussed later.15
Other Christian groups multiplied divine beings rather than dividing them. Valentinian Christianity posited an ultimate, unknowable Father from whom emanated thirty aeons. The creator of the material world was a lower being acting in ignorance. Irenaeus reports :
“They maintain that there exists in the invisible and ineffable heights a perfect Aeon… and from him they derive the thirty Aeons.”16
Here, God is radically transcendent, creation is flawed, and redemption consists in escape from material existence — producing a Christology in which Jesus functions primarily as a revealer of secret knowledge.17
This dual-God theology appears explicitly in the Apocryphon of John, where the creator declares : “I am God and there is no other God beside me.” The text immediately corrects this claim, portraying the creator as ignorant of the higher, true God.18
Other early Christians conceived of God in interior, non-historical terms. The Gospel of Thomas presents God as a hidden reality discovered through self-knowledge :
“The Kingdom is inside of you, and it is outside of you…”19
Salvation here is epistemic rather than juridical, producing a view of Jesus as an illuminator rather than a redeemer.20
Even widely accepted texts reveal unresolved tension. The Shepherd of Hermas describes God as one, yet presents the Son as a righteous man inhabited by the pre-existent Spirit :
“That holy Spirit which pre-existed, God made to dwell in flesh which He chose.”21
This adoptionist theology directly informs adoptionist Christologies, as will be discussed later.22
Even writers later claimed as orthodox witnesses show conceptual strain. Ignatius of Antioch writes of Jesus as :
“One Physician, both fleshly and spiritual, begotten and unbegotten, God in man.”23
Early Christians also used fluid divine imagery. In a second or third century collection of Christian hymns, the Odes of Solomon, the nineteenth ode celebrates God the Father as a woman with breasts :
The Son is the Cup
and he who was milked is the Father ;
and the Holy Spirit is she who milked him.
Because his breasts were full,
and it was undesirable that his milk should be spilled without purpose,
the Holy Spirit opened her bosom/womb
and mixed the milk of the two breasts of the Father.24
This hymn is not an isolated poetic anomaly but reflects a theological imagination in which divine identity, relational roles, and even gender were not yet constrained by later metaphysical definitions. The maternal and bodily depiction of God the Father, alongside the feminine portrayal of the Holy Spirit, stands in sharp contrast to later orthodox insistence on divine incorporeality, impassibility, and fixed Trinitarian relations.
Similarly, early Syriac Christianity referred to the Holy Spirit (ruḥa) as feminine and maternal. Aphrahat speaks of believers being born through “the Spirit, their Mother.“25
Taken together, these examples demonstrate that early Christianity lacked a unified doctrine of God. These theological disagreements directly shaped divergent Christologies, which will be examined as follows.
Nature of Jesus
Given such radically divergent conceptions of God, it is unsurprising that early Christians also held irreconcilable views regarding the nature of Jesus. Christological disagreement in the first three centuries was not a marginal phenomenon but a defining feature of early Christianity. These disagreements concerned whether Jesus was divine or human, the manner of his divinity, the reality of his incarnation, the significance of his suffering and death, and the role he played in salvation.
Some early Christians held that Jesus was a purely human figure, chosen or adopted by God because of his righteousness. This view, often described as adoptionism, is reflected in several early traditions. According to such views, Jesus became God’s Son at his baptism or resurrection, not by nature but by divine election. The Shepherd of Hermas, a widely read second-century text, reflects this framework by describing the Son as a righteous man in whom the pre-existent Spirit dwells :
“That holy Spirit which pre-existed, God made to dwell in flesh which He chose.”26
Here, Jesus is not inherently divine ; rather, divine power or presence is associated with him as a result of moral obedience. This understanding presupposes a theology in which God remains strictly one and transcendent, and where incarnation is not ontological but functional.27
Other early Christians advanced the opposite extreme : Jesus was fully divine but not truly human. This position, commonly labelled Docetism, held that Jesus only appeared to possess a physical body and did not genuinely suffer or die. Such views followed naturally from theological systems that regarded matter as corrupt or evil, especially within Gnostic and Marcionite frameworks.
Ignatius of Antioch vigorously opposed such claims, insisting on the reality of Jesus’ flesh, suffering, and death :
“He truly suffered, even as He truly raised Himself up… But if, as some atheists say, that is unbelievers, He only seemed to suffer, why am I in bonds?”28
Ignatius’ polemic demonstrates that denial of Jesus’ real suffering was not hypothetical but actively taught within Christian communities. His insistence on the physical reality of the crucifixion shows that no settled Christological consensus yet existed.
Still other groups proposed separationist Christologies, in which “Jesus” and “Christ” were distinguished as two entities. According to these models, the divine Christ descended upon the human Jesus at baptism and departed prior to the crucifixion. Irenaeus reports such beliefs among certain Gnostic groups :
“They say that Jesus suffered and was born, while Christ remained impassible.“29
Under this framework, the crucifixion is stripped of salvific meaning, since the divine element does not participate in suffering. Salvation instead comes through knowledge revealed by the descending Christ, not through atonement or sacrifice.
Some early Christians went further still, denying that Jesus died at all. Certain texts associated with Gnostic traditions reinterpret the crucifixion as an illusion or substitutionary event. The Second Treatise of the Great Seth presents a striking example :
“I did not die in reality but in appearance… It was another, their father, who drank the gall and vinegar.“30
Such claims again reflect underlying theological assumptions : if the divine cannot suffer, then the crucifixion must be reinterpreted or denied.
In contrast to these views, other Christians affirmed both Jesus’ humanity and divinity, yet struggled to articulate how the two could coexist. Ignatius of Antioch, often cited as an early witness to incarnational belief, employs paradoxical language that reveals ongoing conceptual strain :
“One Physician, both fleshly and spiritual, begotten and unbegotten, God in man.”31
Such formulations are not the product of settled metaphysical doctrine but of theological experimentation. The contradictions embedded in the language — “begotten and unbegotten” — highlight the absence of fixed Christological categories.
The diversity of Christological views is also evident within the New Testament corpus itself. These Christological disagreements were intensified by the failure of early apocalyptic expectations, as the anticipated return of Jesus did not occur within the lifetime of the first generation of believers, forcing theological reinterpretation and institutional stabilization.32 Some texts emphasise Jesus’ obedience, ignorance, and subordination to God, while others ascribe to him exalted titles and cosmic functions. This internal diversity provided fertile ground for later theological divergence rather than doctrinal clarity.
These Christological disagreements were intensified by the failure of early apocalyptic expectations. Jesus’ proclamation of an imminent divine intervention, appears to anticipate the consummation of God’s kingdom within the lifetime of his contemporaries.33 When this expectation failed to materialise, early Christians were compelled to reinterpret both Jesus’ mission and their own historical situation. As Bart Ehrman observes, the fading of apocalyptic urgency necessitated theological recalibration, shifting emphasis away from imminent eschatological fulfilment toward enduring institutional and doctrinal structures.34 Christology thus developed not only in response to scriptural interpretation, but under the pressure of unmet historical expectations.
It is only in the fourth and fifth centuries, through a series of ecclesiastical councils backed by imperial authority, that one Christological formulation would be declared normative and others condemned as heretical. The Council of Nicaea (325) and the Council of Chalcedon (451) did not so much preserve an uncontested apostolic consensus as impose a theological resolution upon centuries of unresolved debate.
Thus, early Christian belief regarding Jesus existed in a genuine state of flux. Jesus was variously understood as a prophet, adopted son, divine emissary, heavenly revealer, illusory apparition, or incarnate deity. These competing Christologies cannot be dismissed as peripheral deviations ; they represent the mainstream diversity of early Christian thought before later orthodoxy achieved dominance.
Nature of Mary
The diversity of belief among early Christians extended not only to the nature of God and Jesus, but also to the status and theological significance of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Far from a uniform or universally agreed understanding, early Christian attitudes toward Mary ranged from near silence, to typological reflection, to practices that church authorities themselves regarded as excessive or heretical.
In the earliest Christian sources, including the New Testament, Mary occupies a relatively limited theological role. The canonical texts provide little doctrinal reflection on her status beyond her role in the nativity narratives, and even there the emphasis remains firmly Christological rather than Marian. The absence of systematic Marian teaching in the earliest strata of Christian literature already suggests that later doctrinal certainty was not inherited from apostolic consensus.
By the second century, however, Mary began to acquire symbolic significance within certain theological frameworks. Irenaeus of Lyons introduces Mary into his doctrine of recapitulation by drawing a typological contrast between Eve and Mary. He writes :
“Just as Eve, having disobeyed, became the cause of death for herself and for the whole human race, so also Mary, having obeyed, became the cause of salvation for herself and for the whole human race.”35
This “New Eve” typology elevates Mary’s role within salvation history, yet it remains carefully bounded. Mary is honoured for her obedience, not venerated as an object of devotion, nor presented as sinless or divine. The typology functions primarily to reinforce Christological claims, not to establish Marian doctrine as an independent theological locus.
Other early Christian writers reflect far less idealised portrayals of Mary. Origen of Alexandria, writing in the early third century, interprets Simeon’s prophecy that “a sword will pierce your own soul also“36 as referring to Mary’s inner struggle at the crucifixion. Origen writes :
“The sword which pierced her soul was doubt.” 37
This interpretation portrays Mary as a human believer subject to uncertainty and spiritual trial. Such a portrayal stands in clear tension with later notions of Mary’s exceptional sanctity or immunity from error, and demonstrates that early Christian reflection on Mary was neither uniform nor consistently exalted.
The diversity becomes even more apparent when we examine movements that provoked explicit condemnation from early church authorities. One of the clearest examples is the sect known as the Collyridians, whose practices are recorded by St. Epiphanius, Bishop of Constantia in Cyprus, writing in the fourth century. Epiphanius describes a group — largely composed of women — who offered sacrificial cakes to Mary in ritual settings. He writes :
“After this a heresy appeared, which we have already mentioned slightly by means of the letter written in Arabia about Mary. And this heresy was again made public in Arabia from Thrace and the upper parts of Scythia, and was brought to our ears, which to men of understanding will be found ridiculous and laughable. We will begin to trace it out, and to relate concerning it. It will be judged (to partake of) silliness rather than of sense, as is the case with other like it. For, as formerly, out of insolence towards Mary, those whose opinions were such sowed hurtful ideas in the reflexions of men, so otherwise these, leaning to the other side, fall into the utmost harm.….. For the harm is equal in both these heresies, the one belittling the holy Virgin, the other again glorifying her over-much. For who should it be that teach thus but women ? for the race of women is slippery, fallible, and humble-minded.….. For some women deck out a koutrkon that is to say, a square stool, spreading upon it a linen cloth, on some solemn day of the year, for some days they lay out bread, and offer it in the name of Mary. All the women partake of the bread, as we related in the letter to Arabia, writing partly about that.….. Yea, verily, the body of Mary was holy, but was surely not God. Verily, the Virgin was a virgin, and was honoured, but was not given to us to worship ; but she worships Him who was born from her according to the flesh, having come from heaven out of the Father’s bosom.…..” This offering and eating of cakes was probably derived from the worship of Artemis.“38
Epiphanius’ testimony is significant for several reasons. First, it demonstrates that Marian devotion had already, in some circles, crossed into cultic practice by the fourth century. Second, his forceful rejection of such practices confirms that no consensus existed regarding Mary’s proper status. Finally, Epiphanius explicitly frames Marian deviation as occurring at two extremes : those who belittle Mary, and those who “glorify her over-much.”
His insistence that Mary “was not given to us to worship” presupposes that worship-like devotion was in fact occurring with sufficient frequency to warrant formal denunciation. The offering of bread in Mary’s name closely resembles pagan sacrificial rites, and Epiphanius himself suggests that such practices were likely derived from surrounding goddess cults, particularly that of Artemis. This illustrates how local religious culture shaped early Christian belief and practice in the absence of firm doctrinal boundaries.
It is important to note that Epiphanius’ concern is not the defence of an established Marian doctrine, but the regulation of a devotional landscape already marked by excess, reaction, and theological instability. His writings reveal a church still attempting to define the limits of acceptable belief rather than preserving a universally inherited tradition.
Taken together, these early sources demonstrate that Marian belief in early Christianity existed in a genuine state of flux. Mary was variously portrayed as a faithful but ordinary woman, a typological counterpart to Eve, a believer subject to doubt, or — among certain groups — an object of ritual offering. These divergent attitudes coexisted within the early Christian world and were actively contested by church leaders. As with doctrines concerning God and Jesus, early Christian reflection on Mary was neither fixed nor uniform, but developed unevenly under the influence of theological speculation, scriptural interpretation, and surrounding religious culture. The historical record therefore confirms that Marian belief belongs fully within the broader condition of doctrinal instability that characterised early Christianity.
Conclusions
The consolidation of proto-orthodox Christianity was accompanied not only by the marginalisation of alternative beliefs, but by the suppression and eventual destruction of competing Christian literatures. While second- and third-century Christianities existed in what Ehrman describes as a “state of plurality,”39 the rise of imperial patronage in the fourth century enabled one theological stream to define orthodoxy through exclusion. Texts associated with rival Christian movements were proscribed, while others were lost entirely, leaving a canon that reflects theological victory rather than comprehensive representation.40 The resulting loss of early Christian literature represents not merely the silencing of “heresy,” but a narrowing of the historical record through which later generations would understand Christianity’s formative centuries.
Alongside theological disagreement, early Christianity underwent profound institutional transformation. As apocalyptic expectations faded and Christianity expanded within the Roman world, informal charismatic communities gave way to structured hierarchies, clerical offices, and mechanisms of doctrinal control. Titles such as episkopos (bishop), once absent from the earliest strata of Christian life, became central to ecclesiastical authority, while ritual and doctrinal uniformity increasingly served as markers of orthodoxy.41 Joachim Jeremias, one of the foremost New Testament exegetes of the twentieth century, concluded after a lifetime of critical study — concurring with the earlier assessment of Rudolf Bultmann — that :
“[W]ithout a doubt it is true to say that the dream of ever writing a biography of Jesus is over.“42
This conclusion carries far-reaching implications. If even the basic chronology of Jesus’ life cannot be reconstructed with confidence from the New Testament, and if early Christians themselves could not agree on the nature of God, the identity of Jesus, or the status of Mary, then claims of an original, unified Christian theology collapse under historical scrutiny.
From the foregoing analysis, one is therefore led to ask : if the earliest Christians could not agree on foundational theological questions, on what basis are we expected to accept later Christian interpretations of broader issues such as Christian ethics, salvation, or worldview (Weltanschauung) as authoritative or divinely preserved ?
It is difficult to accept contemporary missionary claims that their version of Christianity represents the pristine faith of Jesus and his earliest followers, when the historical record demonstrates that early Christianity was characterised by competing doctrines, contested scriptures, and unresolved theological disputes. What is presented today as “orthodox Christianity” is demonstrably one surviving strand among many — a theological configuration that achieved dominance through historical, institutional, and political consolidation rather than through universal early agreement.43
In light of this, it remains mind-boggling to accept present-day missionary preaching of a singular Christian truth-claim, when it is clear that their forefathers did not themselves hold what is now proclaimed as timeless orthodoxy. That the Christianity of today is merely one of several competing beliefs that existed in its formative centuries only reinforces Jeremias’ conclusion. Yet it remains an open question why missionaries persist in advancing their “one-out-of-many” version as exclusive truth to Muslims.
And only God knows best !
Notes- Bart D. Ehrman, The Orthodox Corruption Of Scripture : The Effect Of Early Christological Controversies On The Text Of The New Testament, (Oxford University Press, London & New York : 1993), p. 3[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, Lost Christianities, Oxford University Press, 2003, p. 245[⤶]
- James D. G. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament, (SCM Press and Westminister Press : 1977), p. 373[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, After the New Testament (Oxford University Press, 2003), pp. 95 – 102[⤶]
- cf. Matthew 5:19[⤶]
- cf. Galatians 5:2. See also Mohd Elfie Nieshaem Juferi, Paulus Perosak Risalah al-Masīḥ : Sejarah Bagaimana Ajaran Kristian Dicipta Sepenuhnya (Seri Kembangan : Langgam Fikir, 2025).[⤶]
- Epistle of Barnabas 10[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, After the New Testament (Oxford University Press, 2003), pp. 95 – 102[⤶]
- cf. Romans 3:28 ; Galatians 2:16[⤶]
- James 2:24[⤶]
- cf. John 1:1 – 3[⤶]
- Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to New Testament Christology (Paulist Press, 1994), p. 172[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, Lost Christianities : The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (Oxford University Press, 2003), pp. 165 – 182[⤶]
- Tertullian, Adversus Marcionem I.19, Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 3[⤶]
- cf. Bart D. Ehrman, The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture : The Effect of Early Christological Controversies on the Text of the New Testament (Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 105 – 110[⤶]
- Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses I.1.1[⤶]
- Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels (Vintage, 1989), pp. 30 – 55[⤶]
- Apocryphon of John II.11 – 12, in James M. Robinson (ed.), The Nag Hammadi Library[⤶]
- Gospel of Thomas, logion 3[⤶]
- Bentley Layton, The Gnostic Scriptures (Yale University Press, 1987), pp. 376 – 381[⤶]
- Shepherd of Hermas, Similitude 5.6[⤶]
- J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines (Harper, 1978), pp. 140 – 145[⤶]
- Ignatius, Epistle to the Ephesians 7[⤶]
- Odes of Solomon 19[⤶]
- Aphrahat, Demonstrations 6.14 ; Sebastian Brock, The Holy Spirit in the Syrian Baptismal Tradition, 1979[⤶]
- Shepherd of Hermas, Similitude 5.6[⤶]
- J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines (Harper, 1978), pp. 140 – 145[⤶]
- Ignatius, Epistle to the Smyrnaeans 2[⤶]
- Irenaeus, Adversus Haereses I.30.12[⤶]
- Second Treatise of the Great Seth, Nag Hammadi Codex VII[⤶]
- Ignatius, Epistle to the Ephesians 7[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus : Apocalyptic Prophet of the New Millennium (Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 231 – 245[⤶]
- cf. Mark 8:38 – 9:1[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, Jesus : Apocalyptic Prophet of the New Millennium, Oxford University Press, 1999, pp. 231 – 245[⤶]
- Irenaeus, Against Heresies III.22.4[⤶]
- cf. Luke 2:35[⤶]
- Origen, Homilies on Luke 17[⤶]
- C. H. H. Wright & C. Neil (eds.), A Protestant Dictionary, (1904, Hodder & Stoughton, London), p. 390 (Under “Mary, The Virgin”).[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman & Andrew Jacobs, Christianity in Late Antiquity, Oxford University Press, 2004, p. 155[⤶]
- Bart D. Ehrman, After the New Testament, Oxford University Press, 2003, pp. 132, 194[⤶]
- Canons of Hippolytus ; cf. Bart D. Ehrman & Andrew Jacobs, Christianity in Late Antiquity 300 – 450 C.E.: A Reader (Oxford University Press, 2004), pp. 129 – 133[⤶]
- Joachim Jeremias, The Problem of the Historical Jesus (Philadelphia : Fortress Press, 1972), p. 12[⤶]
- See Mohd Elfie Nieshaem Juferi, Paulus : Perosak Risalah al-Masīḥ : Sejarah Bagaimana Ajaran Kristian Dicipta Sepenuhnya (Seri Kembangan : Langgam Fikir, 2025)[⤶]

