Exactly. How many people would have believed what Luke’s gospel said if right off the bat he has a blatant lie claiming a census occurred that everyone reading the gospel then would have known about if it did actually happen. Can they come up with even one single writing where someone called this into question within the first couple centuries?
You can’t get an entire generation of people to believe that a fictitious event happened which, if it did happen, would have become common knowledge.
Imagine if the Mexico City earthquake of 1985, or 9/11, or the Christmas Tsunami of 2004, never happened. There are people alive today who are too young to remember any of those events, but who nevertheless live among those who did. It is common knowledge in Mexico City, in New York, and on the shores of the Indian Ocean, that these incidents did in fact happen. In time, the physical evidence will all but disappear. But generations from now, do you think it would be possible to convince the people of Mexico City, of Manhattan, or of Phuket, that these *did *take place, long ago …
if they never happened?
It would take superhuman persuasiveness to convince a whole future generation, not to mention colossal naivety on the part of that generation to be convinced. And you would be up against the fatal fact that the future generation never heard their own parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents mention any such thing, nor would they have read about anything resembling it in any history book, nor learned anything about it in school. Because, if they did happen, there is no way such events would have escaped the notice of the generation who lived through it, and there is no way, apart from a coordinated campaign of misinformation, or epidemic amnesia, that they could have been omitted from common knowledge.
So we are left with the idiotic assertions of Divinity school skeptics that nothing special happened on the way to the Promised Land, that resurrections are literary devices, and that birth certificates must be rewritten to serve an agenda. (Does that last one sound familiar?) Ehrman is so hopelessly a product of his time that his legacy will become an amusing curiosity for future historians-of-religion, alongside the discredited theses of his 19th-century forebears.