Michael C. Legaspi
... Like most New Testament scholars, she holds Mark to be the earliest
Gospel (composed sometime around the year 70), with Matthew and
Luke—both of whom use Mark as a source document—coming along a
generation later. John, independent of the other three, came later
still. ...
Pagels’s own position is that the question
of Jesus’s resurrection goes beyond what a historian can say:
“Historical evidence can neither prove nor disprove the reality”; it can only verify that “after Jesus died many people claimed to have seen him alive.”
Pagels is not entirely wrong. The evidence that Jesus was put to
death—actually killed, in public, on a cross, by the governing
authority—and that many people claimed, only a short time later, that
they saw the same Jesus alive cannot seriously be doubted. ...
Nice try, but no.
We do not know that many people claimed that they saw Jesus alive "only a short time later".
Pagels' claim to fame has been all about making this very kind of chronological error, placing later Gnostic sources on the same level as the New Testament as evidence to argue for multiple Christianities and their legitimacy. That Legaspi shrinks from calling her out on that tells you everything you need to know about Legaspi.
The only sense in which it is true that the modern phenomenon of scholarship is "now in retreat" is in the extent to which scholars like Pagels and her reviewer Legaspi themselves retreat from the critical project.
Meanwhile in A.D. 69, around the time of the composition of Mark, many dreamers thought Nero had come back from the dead, too, but just because they existed doesn't mean we take them seriously or believe them, any more than Tacitus did, whose case proves yet again that human nature is unchanging, a mixture of credulity and incredulity from time immemorial:
... About this time Achaia and Asia Minor were
terrified by a false report that Nero was at hand. Various rumours were
current about his death; and so there were many who pretended and believed
that he was still alive. The adventures and enterprises of the other
pretenders I shall relate in the regular course of my work. The pretender in
this case was a slave from Pontus, or, according to
some accounts, a freedman from Italy, a skilful
harp-player and singer, accomplishments, which, added to a resemblance in
the face, gave a very deceptive plausibility to his pretensions. After
attaching to himself some deserters, needy vagrants whom he bribed with
great offers, he put to sea. Driven by stress of weather to the island of
Cythnus, he induced certain soldiers, who were on
their way from the East, to join him, and ordered others, who refused, to be
executed. He also robbed the traders and armed all the most able-bodied of
the slaves. ... Thence the alarm spread far and wide, and many roused themselves
at the well-known name, eager for change, and detesting the present state of
things. The report was daily gaining credit when an accident put an end to
it. ...
-- Tacitus, Histories 2.8