I've had to go a long way. I've given up just about everything. I've cut every tie: I've burned every bridge. I've turned my back on the world. I can't afford to doubt. I have to believe. And there isn't any other truth.

Suppose an individual believes something with his whole heart; suppose further that he has a commitment to this belief, that he has taken irrevocable actions because of it; finally, suppose that he is presented with evidence, unequivocal and undeniable evidence, that his belief is wrong: what will happen? The individual will frequently emerge, not only unshaken, but even more convinced of the truth of his beliefs than ever before. Indeed, he may even show a new fervor about convincing and converting other people to his view.

Hardly had the report arrived from Aleppo that Elijah had appeared in the Old Synagogue there, and Elijah walked streets of Smyrna. Dozens, even hundreds, had seen him: he was the anonymous beggar asking for alms, as well as the as the invisible guest, at every banquet.

The stunning speed with which this belief has spread in the absence of a scintilla of evidence should capture the attention of all historians who have struggled to explain and reconstruct the development of early Christian beliefs in the resurrection and the empty tomb.