Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Four Questions

Someone on Yahoo! Answers asked the following questions:
1. Why do you believe in God?
2. What's the difference between Naive' and Blind trust and Faith?
3. Is it possible that religion is just a way for people to deal with life
and non of it's really even true?
4. Is there really any such thing as pure and whole truth?

I decided they seemed like interesting and sincere questions, so I answered them. Here's what I wrote:

1. I believe in God because that term, as used by the mystics of most traditions, refers to transcendant reality. Because I am persuaded that the hints of transcendence that we perceive - beauty, meaning, interconnectedness - correspond to something real about the universe, that is what it means to be persuaded that God exists.

2. Blind faith is another way of saying gullibility. The Letter to the Hebrews says that faith is the evidence of that which is unseen. It does not say that it is evidence that the things we do see don't really exist! Faith may be willing to stake its life on there being more to a person than a chemical analysis can ascertain, more to life than the humdrum and mundane, but that is about there being more than what is seen. If your 'faith' contradicts what is seen (archaeological evidence, for instance), then it is problematic.

3. Religion is indeed a way that people deal with life. Dostoevsky's parable of the Grand Inquisitor (from The Brothers Karamazov) puts it well - and remember, he was a Christian. But many Christians don't want the responsibility that comes with freedom and choose instead to hand over their freedom to a church, a pastor, a creed, or something else. And that's where organized religion comes in.

4. There is indeed pure truth. The problem is when people in a small corner of history in one solar system in one galaxy in one corner of the universe claim that they know the pure and whole truth. Such claims are not merely lacking humility (which would be bad enough). They are ultimately claims to divinity, and incompatible with the Christian faith (and most others).

I'd be interested to hear comments on my answers or the answers others would give to these questions!

Monday, July 30, 2007

Deja Vu

Last night I watched the movie Deja Vu, which explores a time-travel scenario and the usual questions of whether we can change the past, and what happens if we do or even try. The film explicitly raises questions of 'spirituality', and one character even suggests that the past cannot be changed because 'God has made up his mind about it already'. Yet the film is somewhat unique in raising the ethical issue of whether to intervene to change the past differently - if the past is still there, then (for example) the murder victim is still alive. Don't we have an obligation or at the very least an opportunity to do something about it, to prevent something that, from that standpoint in time, has not yet happened?

Personally, I am not persuaded that some of the time-travel paradoxes explored in Doctor Who, Back to the Future and elsewhere are as problematic or as paradoxical as is claimed. After all, if time travel to the past is possible, then you can exist before you were born, and in two places at once, and so how is it more fundamentally problematic that you exist without ever having born (because you change history)?

It may simply be my lack of understanding of relativity and of quantum physics (although Richard Feynmann suggested that no one understands it, which makes me feel somewhat better), but I remain to be persuaded that the past continues to exist 'somewhen'. Whatever may be implied by the fact that relativity treats time as thought it were another spatial dimension, it is no more obvious that we still exist in the past any more than that we still exist in the other points in space we used to occupy. So my guess is that time travel to the past is an impossibility. It will still be possible to sit near the event horizon of a black hole and get to the future faster than other people.

This leads me to conclude that, in spite of the many points that I find plausible and thought-provoking, I am not persuaded by one aspect of James Gardner's "Selfish Biocosm" hypothesis (outlined in his book The Intelligent Universe), namely that our universe might be folded back around on itself and thus self-originating. Nevertheless, it is interesting to consider an alternative scenario in which universes that can support life are created through the life forms that inhabit such universes, so that they are self-replicating and have an 'evolutionary advantage'. What if universes like ours result from physics experiments by intelligent life forms inhabiting universes like ours, trying to see whether it is possible to create a baby universe? It would be ironic if, like many biological species, universes reproduce through a process that results in the extinction of those instrumental in the process.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

You are just saying that because...

Am I the only person getting tired of hearing the views, arguments and evidence of opposing viewpoints dismissed with phrases like "you are just saying that because you are a secular evolutionist" or "that just goes to show how biased the media is". The latter, of course, is equally asserted by both sides - which I take to be a positive sign in terms of what the media is doing, but rather dismaying in terms of the filter that so many people today seem to have that prevents them from even feeling the need to listen to what others have to say.

This is one reason why it is so crucial that those of us who are educators teach critical thinking skills. If it is in theory possible to critique science as 'just another viewpoint' that depends on power and privilege, isn't it every bit as possible that postmodernism is trying to undermine science and distract us from its ability to offer relative certainty precisely in order to rob it of power it deserves to have and shift that power to others? Or are they just saying these sorts of things because they're postmodernists? :-)

Saturday, July 28, 2007

The Divine Doctor

He brought the universe into existence, was instrumental in providing the spark that produced life on our world, and will be there when our universe fades into nothingness once more. He forgives his enemies, and yet fights for good and stands against evil, defeating even the devil. When his enemies killed him, he appeared again alive, although changed in appearance. Although things can seem pretty desperate at times, he is always there, watching over us, ready to intervene, even at the last minute, to save us from disaster. Yet most people neglect him and do not even know he exists.

I am, of course, talking about the Doctor, the famous Time Lord from Gallifrey. Now that I’ve had the chance to watch last season's finale, I can understand why Marc Goodacre highlighted the religious overtones of the episode and the series in general. The episode (without giving anything away) even addresses the efficacy of ‘prayer’ (provided the human race is united in offering it, and connected by a low level telepathic field, of course). The series continues to provide much basis for reflection on religion and our scientific present and future.

For me, the most interesting and challenging questions for religion are raised not by biology and cosmology but by technology. Already we find preachers and authors bemoaning our tendency to rely on technology rather than on God. But is this not making a virtue out of a necessity? In Biblical times, no one had any choice but to cry out to a supernatural helper for healing, for food, for justice. Today we can do many things that were thought to be divine prerogatives: allow barren wombs to bear, feed the hungry and provide fertility and abundance of crops, heal and prevent diseases, and kill an individual or a thousand on a whim, all using the wonders of technology. Even though there are many critics of technology in our postmodern age, since science has thus far been unable to provide perfect solutions to all our problems. But rarely would anyone of these critics choose to go back to the lives we had before, eking out an existence through subsistence farming, subject to polio and typhoid and other diseases whose nature was not understood and which could thus be neither prevented nor treated.

The biggest challenges, I’d suggest, are not the necessity of rethinking our understanding of God in light of growing cosmological knowledge. If anything, as Carl Sagan put it, what we see through the Hubble Telescope is ‘better than Genesis’ and inspires more awe than the tiny three-tiered universe of the ancient Israelites. But when technology allows us to be even less worried about where our meals will come from than we are today, and perhaps even will extend our lives to such an extent that when death finally comes, it will seem natural and welcome. What, in that technological future, will the place of religion be? Some will say that there simply won’t be a place for religion, but I’d suggest that in fact there will most certainly be a place for the conviction that life is meaningful, that transcendence and beauty are real and not just tricks played on us by our flawed perception. If so, then much as the rationalists of the Enlightenment foresaw, religion will focus on morality and values, and not on hopes for supernatural assistance to meet our needs. Ironically, these were the values of many of America’s Founding Fathers, who would perhaps view the religious ideas of many “modern” Americans today as a step backwards, in spite of our more advanced technology. We need to find ways to think appropriately about God, about our values, in a way that takes completely seriously the ways in which our world is different than ever before (or different than we knew it to be in earlier times, at the very least) because of and as a result of science and technology. We need to hear once again the famous insights of Dietrich Bonhoeffer about humanity come of age and what it might mean to live as mature children of God.

Remember the Mandaeans

Anyone who has ever worked on the Fourth Gospel and/or the scholarship of Rudolf Bultmann will have heard of the Mandaeans, at least in passing. They are a group who became known as "St. John Christians", but this is a misnomer since they are not Christians and view John the Baptist positively but not Jesus. While there is still some uncertainty about whether they could possible be a genuine offshoot of John the Baptist's movement, since all their extant writings are from much later, what should not be forgotten is that (1) they are a group that still exists today, and (2) being predominantly in Iraq, they are inevitably affected by the current situation there. I thus wish to thank April DeConick for posting on this topic on her blog, complete with a link to a video clip on the subject.

Did you know the Samaritans are still around too? They are, and I try to make sure my students are aware of it. Not only the various forms of Judaism and Christianity they are familiar with (and many of them have a limited experience even of those) are what remains from the various groups mentioned and hinted at in the New Testament.

I am still impressed after having had a chance to spend time with the Thomas Christians or 'Mar Thomites' of Kerala in South India about a year ago, on my first visit to India. Not only are they a group that claims to have been founded by St. Thomas (a claim, interestingly enough, that the Pope was accused of implicitly denying - just to connect this to the topic of my previous two posts), they are also the only Reformed Orthodox denomination in the world.

What better way to teach students about the diversity in ancient Judaism and Christianity than by drawing attention to the remnants of that diversity that still exist today - and which, thanks to their web presence, can be incorporated into a course through pictures in powerpoint and so on (the Samaritan Passover being celebrated on Mt. Gerezim is particularly worth showing).

Friday, July 27, 2007

More on the Pope and Evolution

The topic of the Pope and evolution seems to have gotten a lot of people's attention! There are ongoing discussions around the web in the press and on blogs. A few I've come across so far include the Ancient Hebrew Poetry blog, the Free Republic, and I've tried to get a discussion going on Topix. A comment on my last blog entry also raised the question of whether the Pope's statement leaves room for or perhaps even mirrors Intelligent Design. Perhaps in my enthusiasm to get a clear statement supporting evolution and mainstream science I was uncritical of some weaknesses of the Pope's position, at least as stated? Thus far I've only read sound bytes in translation, so perhaps I spoke too soon...

The Pope Speaks Out On Evolution

There is a wonderful little article in the New York Post drawing attention to a recent statement by the Pope. He points out how problematic it is when the current debates present creation and evolution "as if they were alternatives that are exclusive - whoever believes in the creator could not believe in evolution, and whoever asserts belief in evolution would have to disbelieve in God...This contrast is an absurdity, because there are many scientific tests in favor of evolution, which appears as a reality that we must see and enriches our understanding of life and being." The statement also rightly states that evolution doesn't answer certain questions, not because of problems with the theory or inadequate scientific data, but because they are philosophical questions, such as why something rather than nothing exists.

A fuller statement is available in Italian on the Vatican web site.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

A Brief Visit To The End Of The Universe

I've gotten up to the next-to-last episode of the last series of Dr. Who - I just have the finale to watch. In the episode "Utopia" the Doctor takes a visit to the year 100 trillion, towards the end of the universe as it approaches heat death. Humans (who still, implausibly, look just like we do today) are still managing to survive.

I found myself thinking again about a scenario with a time machine that I discussed once before on my blog. The question was posed to me what I could see or discover with a time machine that would make me lose my faith. This is what I wrote:

WWITTMYLYF?

No, that isn't an abbreviation for something rude. It is an abbreviation for a question that I was asked recently and which I think it is important to ask, at least as a mental and spiritual exercise, since it can tell us a lot about what we really believe, what is most important to us, and on what basis we believe as we do. What would it take to make you lose your faith?

For me, this question is a different one from "What would it take to make you stop being a Christian?" and many other alternative but important questions one could ask. I am as open as I can be to revising my beliefs in light of new evidence. Those are mere dogmas, metaphors we use to point to the divine, and I am already assuming that they are at best inadequate.

The full version of the question includes a time machine. You can travel back in time, babel fish in your ear so you can understand what is going on, temporal Google on your computer to locate people, places, etc. in time and space. What could you imagine yourself seeing that would radically change your mind about important religious beliefs? What if anything would change your faith altogether?

For me, nothing I might see in the first century would be likely to change my mind radically - unless Jesus turned out to really have walked around talking like he does in John's Gospel, in which case I might become a fundamentalist. The only exception would be if I found the earliest Christians or Jesus himself doing things that were morally reprehensible. But even that would only affect my committment to the Christian tradition. As far as my faith in God more generally, it would be shaken if I could go to the end of time and see that nothing from our universe survived - I don't mean me as an individual, I mean nothing whatsoever survived, not even on some other level or plane of existence. That, I think, would challenge my faith at its core, because it would suggest that nothing of what we do matters in the long run, and that even God does not survive.

Since, however, I am skeptical about whether time travel is possible (although it is certainly possible to get to the future by travelling at close to the speed of light), I will not let this scenario trouble me too much for the time being. It is, however, I think, a useful activity to ask this sort of question and see how one would answer it, being as honest about the matter as you can. I welcome anyone reading this to try it and to post their own answers as comments, or e-mail them to me and I'll share them.


In concluding, let me add that as I thought about this question once more yesterday, watching an episode of Dr. Who related to the end of the universe, I realized that we really don't have enough information even to engage in a serious speculation. Humanity is like a family that has thus far never gotten further than walking around its hut in some rural village, and only knows its own village (the solar system) indirectly, and has no idea whether there are such things as cities or even life elsewhere, what it might be like, and so on. As we try to answer the 'big questions', at the moment it seems inevitable that we will only be capable of giving 'small answers', or I should say what will be shown to be small answers in the future, with the benefit of hindsight, when we see more of the 'big picture'.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Internet Archive

For those who are unaware of it or simply unaware of all its features, the Internet Archive is a fantastically useful site. In addition to the possibility of finding materials that have since disappeared from the web as sites have become defunct, there are also books and movies in the public domain, such as H. G. Wells' classic movie Things to Come (1936), Jean Danielou's book Primitive Christian Symbols, and Rudolf Bultmann's 1955 Gifford Lectures History and Eschatology. This is definitely a resource worth knowing about!

What Did Jesus Mean?

I am still wondering about the saying attributed to Jesus in various forms in various Gospels (and in Mark, denied as a false accusation), "I will destroy this temple and in three days rebuild it". That something like this was the earliest form is most probable, and it seems to be authentic.

The big question is what he meant by it. On the one hand, given the other evidence that Jesus expected the kingdom to fully dawn in the very near future, I see no particular reason not to take it literally - with the "I" in this case presumably being God, and Jesus speaking in the prophetic first person. On the other hand, given Jesus' propensity for parables and striking images, I am hesitant to simply assume that the literal meaning is the most likely meaning on the lips of Jesus. Since the Gospel of John dates this saying (and the temple incident) to a period when John the Baptist is also still active, might this not be something Jesus said (and did) while still connected with John the Baptist's movement? In such a setting, a literal meaning is still possible, but so is a figurative one in which the proclamation of repentance and baptism bypasses (and thus 'destroys') the temple, putting in its place a community that is united in repentance and ritual rather than by space and sacrifice.

One final thought. When Josephus says that John's followers seemed ready to do anything for him, so that Herod was concerned, might not Jesus' action in the Temple be in mind? Might not Jesus' action in the Temple have led rather directly to John's imprisonment, to Jesus' withdrawal to Galilee, and thus eventually to his sense that his own fate my parallel John's? Is it also perhaps due to the reaction to this prediction that Jesus was from then on inclined to use the less direct 'son of man' rather than 'I'?

Antidisestablishmentarianism

OK, although it proves I'm a nerd (as if any of you had any doubts) I will come right out and admit it: ever since I was a child and first learned about the longest word in the dictionary I have been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to use it in a sentence. I suppose that is the silver lining I can find in the religious right - they have given me the opportunity to use the word.

Establishment, as those who know the first amendment are aware, refers to having an established church or religion that is state sponsored and state approved. Disestablishment thus represents the removal of such a status, the separation of church and state (as Thomas Jefferson famously put it). Antidisestablishmentarianism is thus the point of view that is opposed to the separation of church and state, and thus the American religious right is very clearly (if I may be so bold as to try to outdo the dictionary in length of words) antidisestablishmentarianistically-oriented! :-)

Last year I read Randall Balmer's Thy Kingdom Come: An Evangelical's Lament (New York: Basic Books, 2006), a book that eloquently takes the religious right to task for denying the historic values of American Christianity, undermining the foundations of both American democracy and the Baptist tradition to which many among the religious right claim to belong. Yet the Baptists historically were the key proponents of the separation of church and state, because they saw both the persecution and the empty formalism that resulted from state-sponsored religion, and realized that both were detrimental to the health of true Christianity. Indeed, it is hard for many who have experienced the Southern Baptist Convention in its modern form to believe that the words of George Washington Truett, spoken in 1920 from the steps of the Capitol, could once have been true: "Baptists have one consistent record concerning liberty throughout their long and eventful history. They have never been a party to opression of conscience" (quoted in Balmer, p.69).

Thomas Helwys famously wrote the following words to King James I of England in 1612:


For we do freely profess that our lord the king has no more power over their
consciences than over ours, and that is none at all. For our lord the king is
but an earthly king, and he has no authority as a king but in earthly causes.
And if the king's people be obedient and true subjects, obeying all human laws
made by the king, our lord the king can require no more. For men's religion to
God is between God and themselves. The king shall not answer for it. Neither may
the king be judge between God and man. Let them be heretics, Turks, Jews, or
whatsoever, it appertains not to the earthly power to punish them in the least
measure. This is made evident to our lord the king by the scriptures (The Mystery of Iniquity 53).
This is the same King James under whose auspices the famous translation of the Bible was made. He imprisoned Helwys for speaking out in this way about the king's persecution in particular of Roman Catholics. Helwys, like the American Founding Fathers, realized that in order for one's own freedoms to be guaranteed, the freedoms of all viewpoints had to be guaranteed. It is distressing to see not only how many Americans and how many Christians, but how many even among Baptists have abandoned their confidence in the power of the Gospel in exchange for attempts to instead manipulate, harass, legislate and in other ways impose their views on others in a way that flies in the face of the spirit of both American democracy and the Christian message.

Balmer's book's strongest point, however, is in highlighting the irony of the religious right's claims to be concerned about the Gospel, about Biblical values, and so on. When asked where they stood on the issue of TORTURE, right-wing religious groups either said they had no particular view or statement, or parroted the rhetoric of the current administration. Appalling! How can you possibly claim to be a Christian and yet focus all your attention on matters about which the Bible says relatively little (e.g. abortion and homosexuality) and miss the overarching themes of social justice (one of the things that Amos decries Israel's neighbors for is torture), of the evils of persecution, of loving one's enemies and doing to others what we would have them do to us? I thank God that more and more voices are being raised by courageous individuals against the evil of the religious right. That is correct, you heard me correctly: it is not simply the case any more that the religious right in America is simply out of touch with the teaching of the Bible. They have become the very thing they claim to oppose. They have become what the Bible defines as evil. How did this happen? I would attribute it to one simple factor that the Bible warns us against. The religious right has become hypocritical, able to see sins in others while seemingly unable to spot the telephone pole lodged in their own eye. Self-righteousness is, as the New Testament warns, quite possibly the hardest sin to root out, and it has infected the whole movement of the religious right in this country.

Christianity Today decades ago warned of precisely where things might lead, but their warning was apparently unheeded. This quote will seem prophetic to many, and it is just another wonderful tidbit quoted in Balmer's book (p.xvii): "Too narrow a front in battling for a moral crusade, or for a truly biblical involvement in politics, could be disastrous. It could lead to the election of a moron who holds the right view on abortion" ("Getting God's Kingdom Into Politics", Christianity Today September 19, 1980, p.10).

Antidisestablishmentarianism. The word you never thought you'd get to use. Today, it is a word we need to bring into our discussions more frequently, even though it is long and unwieldy, since it nicely summarizes the danger the religious right poses to our nation and our world.

[NOTE: This post originally appeared as parts of two separate posts here]

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

What's Wrong With Being "Right"?

For those who are enthusiastic about the voices calling for a return to or preservation of the Christian foundations of our society, you will probably find yourself largely in agreement with the sentiment of another famous politician, who said:

The national government will maintain and defend the foundations on which the power of our nation rests. It will offer strong protection to Christianity as the very basis of our collective morality.

Today Christians stand at the head of our country. We want to fill our culture again with the Christian spirit. We want to burn out all the recent immoral developments in literature, in the theatre, and in the press - in short, we want to burn out the poison of immorality which has entered into our whole life and culture as a result of liberal excess during recent years.
For those following currents in American religious and political life, the language sounds very familiar, and you may wonder precisely whose words these are. They are the words of Adolf Hitler. This is a quotation from the address he gave after coming to power in Germany (from "My New Order, The Speeches of Adolf Hitler, 1922-1939", Vol. 1, pp. 871-872, Oxford University Press, London, 1942).

I am tempted to simply leave it at that, without comment. But just to make certain my point is clear, I will say just a few words about it. It is my hope that, by highlighting the similarity between current American voices and that of Hitler, my fellow Americans will understand why the voices on the far-right scare so many of us who do not share their views. Moderate leanings to the left or right are not what I am talking about here, but there are voices that are far to the right of center, and we use that language often without realizing what it means: far in the direction of Hitler, of the Nazis, of fascism. Many in our country today lean in that direction. It claims that our heritage (cultural, religious, economic, political, whatever) is the best, and that it is our destiny to be the most powerful nation precisely for this reason. It claims certainty that those who question our cherished values are wrong, and would ideally like to see our laws uphold and enforce these values.

Yet in an American context, to claim that our nation's heritage is simply "Christian" is misleading. The faith or Thomas Jefferson, a deist, would not be considered acceptable to most of those American Christians today who claim that the founding fathers were Christians. The Bill of Rights guarantees Americans the right to break at least the first two of the Ten Commandments by guaranteeing religious freedom for all.

What is wrong with being on the right? Too many in this country today are leaning further and further in that direction, even though they would claim to abhor what Hitler did. Yet all it takes for history to repeat itself is a people leaning in that direction, a leader willing to use the language of Christianity and conservativism to manipulate the populace and exploit their faith and enthusiasm, and a failure to care when those we disagree with are persecuted and punished. The spirit of the far right is absolutely antithetical to the heritage and foundations of American democracy. And it is precisely that democracy that protects Christianity as well as all other religions to present their case, to make their appeal, to urge any and all who will listen to follow their lead and adhere to their values and convictions - whether they are about abortion, social justice, or the editing of Veggie Tales on NBC.

It is only a faith that is insecure that wants to force it on others and legislate it, because of a lack of trust in the persuasive power of the message itself. It is only the faith of the proud that claims absolute certainty, as opposed to humility and absolute trust in God as the only one who truly knows with certainty.

I found a couple more quotes from Hitler that illustrate just how similar the language he used is to that of certain voices in American Christianity today:

"Secular schools can never be tolerated because such schools have no religious instruction, and a general moral instruction without a religious foundation is built on air; consequently, all character training and religion must be derived from faith . . . we need believing people." (Adolf Hitler, April 26, 1933, from a speech made during negotiations leading to the Nazi-Vatican Concordant of 1933).

In his book Mein Kampf he wrote: ". . . I am convinced that I am acting as the agent of our Creator. By fighting off the Jews, I am doing the Lord's work."

The founding fathers, despite what is so often claimed, were very careful to point our nation in a direction that could not (at least not legally) be taken in that direction. Much of what we assume to be the case about our "Christian nation" (such as the universal addition of the motto "In God We Trust" and the addition of "under God" to the pledge of allegiance) is shaped by things that were added in the 1950s, and certainly subsequent to the composition of the Constitution. Not only did Thomas Jefferson emphatically argue that American law is NOT based on the Bible [letter to Thomas Cooper, February 10, 1814], and in Article 11 of the Treaty of Tripoli, which the U.S. Senate ratified, it emphasizes that "the government of the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian Religion." Fundamentalists claim to believe the whole Bible and take it literally, and yet they ignore whole vast parts of it and impose their own interpretative framework on those verses they quote out of context. They claim to be following in the footsteps of the founding fathers and yet clearly have never read the writings of our nation's early leaders or studied the historical evidence in an appropriate, scholarly manner. This is not to deny the profound influence of Christianity upon all of them in some way, shape or form. It is merely to assert their awareness that as soon as one allows a particular religious tradition to have a unique status, then there will be wrangling over whose version of that tradition is the right one, and the debates will never end.

Returning to our original subject, it is true that once he rose to power Hitler came to oppose Christianity, but it is important to note that this does not suggest that his earlier religious views were simply a charade. His opposition to Christianity results from his conviction that the church was a threat to his power; it is clear, however, that his anti-Semitic views were adopted in close connection with his extreme religious views. Quotes found online illustrate this point and the shift in his views well.

The form of Christianity that he adhered to was known as Positive Christianity, and it essentially remade Jesus in the image of the culture and ideals of Northern Europeans. Now it is inevitably true that people read their own cultural and personal presuppositions and ideals into their Scriptures, and project these values onto God, but some do it more radically than others. American fundamentalist Christianity does this to a lesser extent than Hitler's Positive Christianity, but to a far greater extent than is healthy for the church if it is to have a role in challenging cultural norms with the Gospel. [There was a wonderful illustration of this on the 2006 season premier of Trading Spouses, where an orthodox Jewish mother from Boston changed places with a Pentecostal mother from a small town in the South. The latter viewed the Jewish woman's way of thinking as "un-American", and she assumed that her own traditions were what is meant by Christianity, as did the rest of her family.]

Hitler had been raised a Catholic and viewed himself as such at least until 1941. Lest it be assumed that these views have nothing to do with other branches of Christianity, let's have a few quotes from Martin Luther: "The Jews deserve to be hanged on gallows seven times higher than ordinary thieves," and "We ought to take revenge on the Jews and kill them."
It is because racism, greed, lack of concern for the poor, and countless other values that are at odds with the most basic teachings of Christianity (as of most religions) continue to flourish in our society that I am so passionate about getting good Biblical scholarship to the public and teaching not only religion majors but as many students as possible. There is a wonderful paragraph in LeAnn Snow Flesher's recent book Left Behind?: The Facts Behind the Fiction that puts it beautifully and shows the connection with the topic we've been discussing:

Every fall a new set of students enters my Introduction to the Old Testament
course, and invariably, at least one student will come up to me and say, "I
really don't need to take this class, I already know the Bible." Having read the
Bible is not equal to knowing the Bible. Reading the Bible is essential, of
course, but the Bible is a very complex collection of documents from an ancient
age and culture. In the United States today, and I dare to say in much of the
world, the common method for reading has become one of direct application
wherein the reader selects a passage, often at random, reads it through, and
immediately sits back to contemplate how the text directly applies to today and
to his or her life. This almost magical approach entirely disregards the
realities of what the Bible is and what it means to read it with integrity. In
the end, this method demonstrates disrespect for Scripture and replaces the
authority of the Word with the authority of the reader's time, place, and needs.
Scripture verses pulled out of their contexts and strung together can be made to
say almost anything. Many bad interpretations have resulted from such a process
- some of which have been downright devastating (pp.57-58).


It fascinates me that religion seems to mean two completely opposite things for people in our time. On the one hand, there are the fundamentalists for whom religion is all about certainty, about my own knowledge about God being accurate, about being correct in what one believes/knows. On the other hand, there are those of us who have had a personal spiritual experience of genuinely being born again, and although most of us start out spiritually with a fundamentalist outlooks (just as young children see the world in black-and-white terms), as (or I should say if) we mature we acknowledge that all our words and doctrines are simply pointers to that experience that transcends them, to a God who transcends them. For us, religion is not about our own certainty, but a recognition of our own human limitations, so that we cast ourselves utterly upon God who alone is certain, alone is wise, alone knows, alone is right.

[NOTE: The above post originally appeared as two separate entries here]

The Bible and the Liberal Arts

Over the past year at Butler University the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences has been working to make more explicit its role at the university including in professional education. Faculty have been adding a 'liberal arts statement' to their syllabi to this end. Although I customize it for each course/syllabus, I have a longer standard statement which I originally posted on my old blog site. Here it is:

The Bible, the Core Curriculum and the Liberal Arts

Butler's one-semester course on The Bible (RL202) has for a long time met the Division 1 core curriculum humanities requirement, and will meet the Texts and Ideas requirement under the new core curriculum. What is the purpose of this course as relates to the liberal arts, that causes it (or other courses like it) to be required of students? This question is asked most frequently by students in the professional colleges, many of whom believe the role of a university should be to prepare students with specific skills that will enable them to get specific jobs upon graduation. A published example of this is an e-mail sent to student Abby Nye by her mother when Abby was a freshman pharmacy student at Butler. Abby's mother begins by quoting the University Parent Guide, which advises parents to encourage their children to be students rather than apprentices for a job. Rather than asking about grade point averages, it said, parents should ask what ideas have caught their children's attention, and encourage them to study the subjects which most engage their minds, rather than ones they think will make them most lucrative on the job market.

Abby's mother categorically rejects this approach to learning. To quote her e-mail: "As you know, we do not have money trees growing in our backyard, so we are very interested in what you plan on doing after college. We fully anticipate that it will involve that four-letter word known as work."[1] She also ridicules the idea that her daughter could afford to, or would back1from, giving free reign to her intellectual curiosity. Unfortunately, this view is extremely prevalent among students and their parents.

Listen, on the other hand, to what CEOs from America's top six accounting firms had to say about what they are looking for in terms of the education of their future employees: "Passing the CPA Examination should not be the goal of accounting education. The focus should be on developing analytical and conceptual thinking - versus memorizing rapidly expanding professional standards."[2] The education that universities offer is informed by our alumni and their experience of what is actually needed in the workplace, as well as a board of trustees consisting of people currently in, or with lengthy experience in, the world of business and careers. Memorized (and quickly forgotten) data and information are not that which is crucial. Having learned how to learn, and developing skills of critical thinking, cross-cultural communication, conflict resolution, evaluation of evidence - when one has made these skills one's own, then one is well prepared for just about any profession. The truth of the matter is that it is this breadth of education - which is the focus and indeed the definition of the liberal arts - that makes a diploma valuable, as a university diploma and not merely one from a technical or vocational college.

You probably know the famous saying, "Give a person a fish and you have fed him or her for a day; teach a person how to fish and you have fed them for life." A liberal arts education aims at teaching students not just facts and figures, but teaching them how to learn. The Bible provides a wonderful area in which to do precisely that. On the one hand, the Bible is of profound religious and existential importance to many students, and so if they can learn to think critically about it, then thinking critically about more mundane topics less central to their worldview will seem relatively easy and painless by comparison. The Bible is also a great place to learn to use a range of tools from various academic disciplines, since its contents can be approached via historical, archaeological, literary, social-scientific, and a vast range of other perspectives.

In any given religion classroom at Butler, there will be students representing a range of viewpoints and religious traditions. This provides a wonderful opportunity to develop critical realism, that approach to knowledge that assumes neither the ability to completely objectify that which is studied, nor a relativism claiming that any and all opinions are of equal value. Parker Palmer puts it wonderfully when he writes:


[T]he only "objective" knowledge we possess is the knowledge that comes from a community of people looking at a subject and debating their observations within a consensual framework of procedural rules. I know of no field, from science to religion, where what we regard as objective knowledge did not emerge from long and complex communal discourse that continues to this day?The firmest foundation of all our knowledge is the community of truth itself. This community can never offer us ultimate certainty - not because its process is flawed but because certainty is beyond the grasp of finite hearts and minds. Yet this community can do much to rescue us from ignorance, bias, and self-deception if we are willing to submit our assumptions, our observations, our theories - indeed, ourselves - to its scrutiny. [3]

The Bible (RL202) does not only provide an opportunity to learn the varied approaches to knowledge that are crucial to a liberal arts education, and to becoming a lifelong learner on a trajectory towards a successful future. It is also an opportunity to begin to develop the habit of respectful dialogue with others with whom we disagree. It is only such encounter with different viewpoints that can keep us honest. It has been said that one never truly believes something until one has listened to the arguments of the other side. The academic study of the Bible thus provides students with an opportunity to reflect on, and work out for themselves, what they truly believe.

[1] Abby Nye, Fish Out of Water (Green Forest: New Leaf Press, 2005) p.34.
[2] Jean C. Wyer, "Accounting Education: Change Where You Might Least Expect It," Change Jan.-Feb. 1993, pp.15-17 [quoted in Parker Palmer, The Courage to Teach (San Francisco: Josey-Bass, 1998) p.177.
[3] Parker Palmer, The Courage to Teach (San Francisco: Josey-Bass, 1998) p.104.

Monday, July 23, 2007

More on Mark's Missing Ending

In a recent discussion of the ending of Mark's Gospel on X-Talk, it was suggested that having Jesus himself appear to the women, after his appearance has been promised through angels, is redundant, and I agree. But this is precisely what Matthew does to Mark's narrative, i.e. create a story with precisely this redundancy, and this itself needs to be explained. It perhaps suggests that Matthew knew a story significantly different from Mark's, and this was the best he could do to weave the details of the two together.

Mark's story, on the other hand, does not merely promise that Jesus will be seen. It tells of women who are to deliver a message about Jesus being seen in the future, but they do not deliver it. The narrative of Mark, as it now stands, leaves the reader wondering whether the disciples ever saw Jesus in spite of their not getting the message.

It is for this reason that I think the stories in the Gospel of Peter and in John 21 preserve echoes of the original ending of Mark. Not having received the message (and perhaps having already left town anyway), the Galilean disciples return to their previous lives as fishermen etc., and it is in that context that Jesus nonetheless graciously meets them and encounters them.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Things Your Minister Wishes He Could Tell You

There are things your minister, pastor, priest or preacher would love to be able to tell you, but cannot because of concerns about job security. I am not only thinking about the scandalous revelations that occasionally come to light, nor even the relatively minor fact that your pastor sometimes comes to the pulpit the same way all of us come to church at times – feeling less than inspired, having just argued with a spouse, or in some other way or for some other reason less ready than we would like to do what we need to in church – whether preach or simply worship.

Most ministers have had theological training that exposed them to a diverse range of viewpoints. In some very narrow seminaries, it will be reiterated again and again which is the “right” opinion, which is the “sound” theology. Be that as it may, even pastors who studied in fairly conservative schools have wrestled with issues and confronted evidence that many Christians are simply unaware of. I remember when, towards the end of my doctoral studies at the University of Durham in England, I was invited to give a talk on my research at a sixth form study day (i.e. for students doing A Levels in religion, the approximate equivalent of advance placement (AP) exams in the United States). Wanting to have a sense of the appropriate level, I asked for copies of syllabi or exams for religious studies A Levels in the U. K. As I looked them over, it struck me that teenagers in the U. K. who choose to study religion are expected to deal with subject (such as the Synoptic Problem) that many Christians who have attended church for 60 years have never even heard of. Is the relationship between the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke really of such little importance for those who (we hope) read them that we can set this issue to one side altogether? No, the reason why the subject is never addressed is that it might make some people uncomfortable to talk about it. Many pastors and preachers will give a wide berth to other issues, such as creation and evolution, to avoid controversy, even though they may feel strongly that fundamentalist approaches are misguided. Why rock the boat? But is lack of controversy really preferable to having well-educated believers? Is preserving one’s job worthwhile if it means leaving fundamentalism to grow and fester?

I reflected on these questions yet again today as I read the short book by Rev. Oliver “Buzz” Thomas, 10 Things Your Minister Wants To Tell You (But Can’t Because He Needs The Job). While it is not the case that all the things Thomas mentions are things that all ministers would tell you if they could, I suspect that enough of them are, and if not these things then there are other things that they could tell you were they not afraid that ordinary Christians, rather than welcoming a deeper understanding of the faith, of the Bible, and of Christian history, would complain, argue, and eventually drive the minister out who dared expose them to uncomfortable truths.

Although a very short book, it packs a serious punch and reveals more in its 108 pages than many other works of much greater length on more specific subjects. It was particularly refreshing to encounter someone else so adamant about the importance of the fact that the main character in the creation story in Genesis 2 is called “Human” and not “Adam” as though the latter were a name in Hebrew. Although his language at one point seems to leave a door open for “teaching the controversy” (p.9), his approach to most topics is balanced and healthy. His recognition not only of the fact that Jesus gave more than one answer about salvation (p.47), but that Jesus was mistaken about the end of the world and this simply makes him human (p.97), are refreshingly honest but even more than that refreshingly Biblical compared to the selective quote mining of the fundamentalists. And he too emphasizes, as I try to whenever I get the chance, that fundamentalists only claim to take the whole Bible literally and believe it all, but this is far from an accurate representation of what they in reality do and believe (p.101).

Here are a few particularly memorable quotes:

…my old Irish Catholic uncle used to say: “Trying to use the Bible to prove the
church wrong is like trying to use the phone book to prove there isn’t a phone
company” (p.23)

Authentic religion is not a theology test. It is a
love test. (p.41)

God will not be locked into the culture of the
first century, whether we like it or not. If God exists, then, he is alive today
and is continuing to reveal himself. (p.63)

This may be a useful book for you to read, or to pass on to those who are interested in understanding the Bible better and in a broader way. But certainly the subject of the book is one whose time has come. To paraphrase a famous quote that the book mentions at one point, all that has to happen for fundamentalism to thrive is for those who have actually studied the Bible and understand it in depth and detail to keep silent.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Animation from Scratch

This is just a quick entry to share a couple of useful sites I've learned about recently (one about a month or two ago, the other yesterday). The first is the site of a program called Scratch which one can download freely from the MIT web site. It allows one to make one's own animation and even simple games through a much simpler interface than writing code could ever be (even in old fashioned BASIC, for those of us who remember it).

The second site is called "Stock Xchng" and is simply a useful source for 'stock photos'. Those of us who maintain and develop web pages or use powerpoint in class are always looking for images relevant to various topics that can illustrate or even simply adorn, and my colleague, who is working on a web site about religious diversity in Indianapolis, drew it to my attention. (By the way, he is still trying to decide whether "Sects in the City" or "INsects" is a better name for the site, so if you have an opinion, feel free to make it known!)


Friday, July 20, 2007

Did Paul Get Whacked?

This entry is simply to share another interesting connection between Biblical literature and popular culture, in this instance Micah Kiel's article on the Society of Biblical Literature web site entitled "Did Paul Get Whacked? The Endings of The Sopranos and the Acts of the Apostles". The question asked there regarding what constitutes a 'good ending' obviously relates to the recent thread on the ending of Mark's Gospel as well.

The Lesser of Two Evils

Many thanks to Jim West for bringing recent news about liberation theology to our attention. What I find most troubling about most of the discussions of religion and economics is that we find ourselves choosing 'the lesser of two evils', as though our only options are Capitalism and Communism in a more or less pure form. My wife is from Romania and I lived there for three years, and I certainly find persuasive the argument that human nature makes Communism unworkable. When everyone is paid regardless of productivity, then everyone pretends to work, and when everyone is paid the same, no one works harder than absolutely necessary. In Britain, which tries to get the best of both worlds (capitalism and socialism), and where I lived for even longer, being on the 'dole' is considered a perfectly acceptable option, and can discourage one from seeking gainful employment if one will only make slightly more.

But does that just leave us with pure Capitalism? Hardly. I wish we'd have more discussion of other models, such as the 'Basic Income' approach. Everyone gets a bare minimum income, and then everyone who works gets taxed at a very high rate (say 80%), but however much they make, they keep.

Instead of debating which of the two major systems is better, I'd like to see economists, ethicists and philosophers engage in more creative brainstorming to see whether there aren't possible ways to have a society that encourages creativity and the entrepreneurial spirit, but that also achieves justice and a modicum of equality, without making everyone the same (which, as Harrison Bergeron observed in the movie based on famous story by Kurt Vonnegut, is not the same thing).

Phil Collins, Anton Bruckner, and Jesus

The title may sound like a joke, but the truth is that most recent discussions of oral tradition in the Gospels have made use of the Lord-Parry school's work on folk songs and epics. I have some significant problems with this, given the role of meter and rhyme and the assistance to memory provided by music in the case of this very different genre. Nevertheless, there are useful comparisons that can be made.

Recent works on oral tradition in the Gospels (most notably perhaps James Dunn's recent books) have emphasized the inappropriateness of speaking of an 'original form' of a saying or story. Although I am not persuaded that it is inappropriate for historians to seek to recover the earliest version possible, the point is that each new performance can significantly add to and alter a song, although it can in the end take on a relatively definite form through repetition.

By way of illustration, I offer the demos of songs that one can now find shared on the internet and more frequently through peer-to-peer hubs and chat rooms (I recently downloaded some of Phil Collins'). Those of us who have written songs (remember your garage band?) know that they rarely come into existence fully-formed. There are various steps - happening across a catchy chord progression, starting with a verse or a chorus while the rest follows, honing it and improving it, eventually sharing it with the band, having your vocalist make suggestions, and so on. When Jesus went away into the wilderness to pray, was this also time spent 'composing'? Did he return with 'new material' from such times? Were the disciples, sent out to convey his message, like 'performers' of his 'compositions'? How useful is this comparison.

Those who are fans of Anton Bruckner's music are probably aware that, in the case of his symphonies, he continued revising them after their initial performances and publication. This is not that unusual - but Bruckner has more of a penchant for it, perhaps, and this is one of the things that gave rise to the saying that he didn't compose 9 symphonies, he composed one symphony nine times. In relation to the Jesus tradition, it is fair to ask whether there might not have been revision, adaptation, improvement and other modification to sayings and stories after their first performance. Many historians are hesitant to pursue this line of reasoning because it has so often been misused by fundamentalists seeking to harmonize the various Gospels by asserting that 'they are all correct - Jesus just said all these different versions'. But the possibility needs to be explored, even if it is ultimately rejected.

The short story in Matthew's Gospel about two sons, one of whom obeys (after saying he wouldn't) and the other of whom disobeys (after saying he would) may be an earlier version (a 'draft', if you will) of the story in Luke's Gospel that we know as 'The Prodigal Son'. But who is responsible for elaborating it into the fuller form we have in Luke? Kenneth Bailey, responsible for some important work on oral tradition and on the cultural setting of the parables, suggests that the poetic genius behind the Lukan parables he studied was perhaps none other than Jesus himself. However, the extended chiasms or inverted parallelisms Bailey identified seem more characteristic of written composition than orality, where the earlier lines are not visible, are not there to be set side-by-side with later parallels. Short chiasms are typical of orality; longer structures are not (one may think of the alphabetic acrostics found in some psalms, which by virtue of the fact that they use the alphabet imply literacy).

I had a conversation about memory and orality with a friend of mine, also a New Testament scholar. He found much encouragement for the possibility of precise preservation of information through an experiment with student memorization. But such experiments fail to ask the question of how one memorizes a 'text' when there is no static written version to go back to. What are needed are experiments involving composition of oral pieces with similar length and structure to the longer Lukan and Matthean parables. For the study to provide genuine light on the subject, however, we would ideally need to have test subjects whose primary mode of communication and thought was not literature. It is not appropriate to assume that Jesus and his followers were not literate - neither Galilee nor its neighbors were purely oral cultures at this stage. Neither is it appropriate to assume, however, that those whose literacy may have been rudimentary, of the form most common in this time and place, would have composed lengthy works with elaborate structures and parallelisms, utilizing the method that would perhaps be most natural to us: imagining it written.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Accuracy is not Inerrancy

A news item mentioned on the Christianity Today blog (which itself interacts with and quotes Jim West's blog) as well as in newspapers highlights a Babylonian tablet that correlates with information in Jeremiah. This is a fascinating discovery, and very interesting for historians. From a historian's perspective, this just shows that the Bible at times provides reliable information - but mainstream historians already knew that. What it does not prove (and can never prove) is that the Bible is inerrant. Accuracy is not inerrancy.

On Satan Getting Saved

Origen famously created controversy in his day by merely speculating on the possibility that even the devil could be saved. It is important to ask why this idea should be controversial in a Christian context. Allegedly, Christianity is all about redemption, about the possibility of those living in darkness seeing the light and changing direction. Yet even today a question about praying for the devil on Yahoo! Answers meets with either surprise or the response 'there would be no point'.

I was struck when teaching a course on South Asia in which we read the Ramayana how, after the hero Rama defeats the demon Ravana, he sees the latter's inner self, with the selfishness and bitterness burned away in the battle. Similarly, Star Wars presents Luke Skywalker redeeming his father, even though even Anakin himself is persuaded that it is too late for him. Yet reading John 8 once again as we reached that passage in the Sunday School class I teach, I couldn't help noticing how absolute (almost Zoroastrian) its depiction of the devil is - a liar and murderer "from the beginning", which I suppose could mean from creation (as in the Life of Adam and Eve), but sounds like it is simply saying 'he was always that way'.

The Biblical writings do not have a consistent doctrine of Satan or 'the devil' - most of it is based on the application of texts from Isaiah and Ezekiel that originally referred to the kings of Babylon and Tyre to a fallen angel. So perhaps it is not that surprising to find that there isn't a coherent view of what it would mean to hope for the ultimate reconciliation of all things either.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Starship Battles

I know many readers of my blog are Star Wars fans. I recently purchased the Star Wars Miniatures Starship Battles Starter Set, and can highly recommend it. Created by Wizards of the Coast, who are also responsible for the Star Wars Miniatures game (involving individual characters rather than ships) and currently also produce the Dungeons and Dragons line of products.

Those of us who appreciate these sorts of games will welcome this. The Star Trek game Starfleet Battles was a famous attempt at creating a game in which one can reenact combat between starships, but it was extremely cumbersome in its attempts to emulate all the various workings of a starship as portrayed in the Star Trek series. Wishing to introduce my son to these sorts of games in a simpler form, a while back I came up with my own Simple Starship Combat Simulation rules, which are available online. I am rather pleased that they would seem to be no longer needed, and that one can play this sort of game with miniatures that are a significant improvement over the old pewter ones or cardboard cutouts we used to use.

Music for Spiritual Exploration

When I need to be persuaded yet again that reality includes transcendence and the spiritual, I usually turn to music rather than opening the writings of some theologian or other (although those help a lot too!). Here are a few pieces I'd recommend for this purpose...

Peteris Vasks' Lauda which I was listening to earlier today

Alan Hovhaness' Symphony "Celestial Gate"

Kurt Atterberg's Symphony No.2, the opening and closing sections of the second movement being, for me, the most inspiring melody of all time

Ralph Vaughan Williams' Symphony No.5

James Horner's score from Deep Impact and of course any of John Williams' music from Star Wars.

Let me also mention Gustav Holst's Hymn of Jesus which is not only beautiful music but is fascinating as a very rare instance of the setting to music of an extracanonical Christian text (Hovhaness has done the same with the Odes of Solomon; Joaquin Rodrigo, famous for his Concierto de Aranjuez, has a setting of some Qumran hymns). I played the Holst piece for my "Heresy" class the last time I taught it, not least because this helps students realize that these extracanonical texts had a role in Christian worship for those that valued them.

How did Mark's Gospel originally end?

For me, one of Croy's strongest arguments (in his book The Mutilation of Mark's Gospel) that Mark originally continued beyond 16:8 (where it ends in our earliest manuscripts) is a comparison with Moby Dick. Apparently, the English release omitted the epilogue, with the result that it appeared no one survived. As one reviewer appropriately asked, if no one lived to tell the tale, then how am I hearing about it?! The same problem confronts readers of Mark's Gospel in the earliest form in which we have it - if the women "said nothing to anyone", then how can we now be hearing the story?

This logical problem, combined with the fact that so many different ancient readers of Mark's Gospel (Matthew, Luke, and at least two early scribes) felt that Mark's ending was abrupt, are sufficient indication, for me anyway, that something is indeed missing. The Gospel of Peter is also important evidence - it provides an ending that flows logically continuing where Mark leaves off, and does not follow either Matthew or Luke at this point, suggesting the author knew Mark's complete story (which does not necessarily mean he had a complete text of Mark before him).

What is more perplexing to me is that neither Matthew nor Luke seems to have known the continuation of Mark's story. Whatever Mark originally had, whether this abrupt ending or a continuation that is now lost, Matthew and Luke did not know what happens next, except that the disciples saw Jesus. They disagree on where and on most major details.

Research on oral tradition suggests that group testimony tends to be an outline. Would it not be a plausible explanation that the early testimony about the resurrection appearances was a list, perhaps resembling the first part of that given in 1 Corinthians 15? What Matthew and Luke offer would then be an attempt to elaborate that list, in the absence of much other information, into a flowing narrative.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Intelligent Design: Philo vs. Ken Ham

One can trace the origins of intelligent design's type of argument back into the ancient world. Naturally, before there were scientific explanations for various phenomena, there was a tendency to identify all sorts of "natural phenomena" (in our terms) as literally "acts of God" or acts of the gods.

What is intriguing in these early examples of the "failure of imagination" argument (i.e. "I cannot conceive how this could possibly have arisen, so God must have done it miraculously) is that they include human technology. Whether we think of fire in the myth of Prometheus, or weapons and jewelry-making taught by the "sons of God" in the subsequent elaborations of the Genesis narrative in 1 Enoch, those technologies whose origins were forgotten in the mists of history were often attributed to divine or angelic revelation. We see echoes of this in the modern UFO mythology that attributes some technological advancements that seem too wondrous to crashed alien spacecraft or other interactions with aliens (e.g. velcro, in both the movie Men in Black and in an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise).

On the other hand, some ancient authors were remarkably sophisticated (I remember in particular being impressed with Philo of Alexandria's understanding of rainbows in Questions and Answers on Genesis II, 64). Awe before the accomplishments of nature, including living things, is not inappopriate, but giving overly-facile explanations that fail to properly investigate matters thoroughly certainly is. And so I leave readers with this thought, that it is interesting to contrast the thoughtful insight of Philo's "Answers in Genesis" from almost 2,000 years ago, with Ken Ham's version of "Answers in Genesis" in our time.

The Mutilation of Mark's Gospel

In response to a question asked on the List-serv X-Talk, I'm sharing a review I wrote of The Mutilation of Mark's Gospel by N. Clayton Croy. In short, I found the suggestion that Mark's Gospel may have lost its original
beginning as well as ending plausible, and certainly agree that the evidence points to Mark's Gospel having been originally intended continue beyond the abrupt ending found in our earliest Manuscripts.

I am inclined to think (as I indicated in a post on my old blog site) that the Gospel of Peter and the final chapter of the Gospel of John give us clues to how Mark's Gospel continued. Since the women said nothing to anyone (although presumably they did at some later point), the disciples returned to Galilee, to their earlier lives, and it was there and in that context that they had their experiences that persuaded them that Jesus was written.

(The review starts on p.65 of the pdf file).

Monday, July 16, 2007

The Two Doctors (arguing with oneself)

For many fans of Doctor Who, among our favorite episodes are the ones where the Doctor encounters his earlier selves - which inevitably leads to arguments! Although intended primarily for comic value, I presume, there is an important insight in these episodes. If I were to meet an earlier me, I would encounter a person very different from the one I am today, and I can easily imagine arguments ensuing, as I who I am today tried to share what I consider the wisdom of experience with my younger self, and my younger self rebukes me for having gone over to the dark side, from "his" perspective. (Notice how hard it is to speak of such things!)

As I began watching Star Wars - Episode III: Revenge of the Sith again recently, this too gave me pause, as I watched characters discuss evil as a point of view - the importance of point of view is a theme that runs throughout the films. Do I now hold views that I would have considered "evil" earlier in my life, and do I now consider the views of my earlier self "evil"? My hope is that I have discovered, as Luke Skywalker eventually did, a middle way. Just as the attempt of the Jedi to avoid all attachment left one open to temptation to the other extreme of being carried along by one's passions, I hope that I have found a middle ground between fundamentalism and atheism, just as Luke found he could let his concern for his sister enrage him and his compassion for his father stop him from going too far. But I doubt that my younger self would have accepted this argument - I saw everything in black and white, once upon a time, as we all did at some point.

This led me to ask myself what, if anything, I might wish to tell my earlier self? Would I warn "him" against the perils of fundamentalism? As I thought about it, I decided I probably wouldn't. I gained much from that period in my life, and just as I would not go back to tell my childhood self in kindergarten things I would not then be ready to understand, I think I might go back and observe myself, but would try to avoid tinkering. If I had not passed through the fundamentalist phase that followed my experience of being "born again", for all I know I might have no faith today rather than the mature faith that I do. Adolescence is a healthy step on the way to maturity, and it cannot be bypassed.

Thinking further, I decided that this same principle applies to lots of other aspects of my life. There was a time before I really got into "classical" music, and then a time when Shostakovich and Bartok were beyond my range of appreciation. I had to work my way through Rachmaninov and Bruckner first, and had I gone by another path, I might not value the music of Atterberg and Korngold the way that I do.

I personally suspect that time travel is not possible - I am inclined to think that the past is not a static entity that is still 'out there somewhere'. But even if it were, I do not think I would go back and tamper with it. The past is there to be learned from, and there are probably very few instances where we could go back and avoid the mistakes that we have learned from, because mistakes are one of the principal ways in which we learn.

Burning Down The Temple

One particular detail in the Gospel of Peter has long struck me as a sure sign the author had authentic early oral traditions passed down to him apart from or in addition to the canonical Gospels. The reference to the disciples being in hiding after Jesus' arrest because it was feared they would set fire to the temple surely would not have been invented by a Christian, and certainly not after the accusation that they had started the fire in Rome. This detail fits well the prominence of Jesus' prediction(s) about the temple's destruction and it is historically plausible. Is there a better explanation than that this is a genuine piece of historical data that made it down the decades to the author of this Gospel?

There are entries on James Tabor's and April DeConick's blogs today too (in fact, they are what inspired me to post this one).

Sunday, July 15, 2007

On A Hill In A Galaxy Far, Far Away...

I've finally begun watching the latest season of Doctor Who. I will not post any genuine spoilers in this post - you won't learn what the Face of Boe's secret is from me! :-) But the last episode I watched, "Gridlock", raises questions that I've asked before in other contexts.

Can we imagine our descendents 15 million years in the future, living perhaps 15 million light years from Earth, still singing hymns like "The Old Rugged Cross" or even "Abide With Me"?

One thing is certain - any descendants we have then will not be 'human' in the sense of looking like us. We cannot even talk about what their technology might be like, and more than a medieval peasant could discuss playing World of Warcraft. They will almost certainly not speak English or any other language that exists today, although one might imagine languages becoming more static as a result of the existence of print and audio media.

This being so, can we imagine them telling stories about "a hill far away" on a planet far away and finding the meaning of their lives in them, and finding that those stories shape their significance?

I merely pose the question, for now. Watch "Gridlock" and join with me in thinking about and discussing them further!

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Will America Be Left Behind?

No, I'm not asking about a fanciful apocalyptic scenario based on a few texts taken out of context. Last night, my church showed the animated movie Cars. I found the movie moving (both literally and metaphorically, I suppose), but I was particularlly struck by the way themes from the movie intersected with ones I have been thinking about while reading Jack Clayton Swearengen's book Beyond Paradise: Technology and the Kingdom of God. In the movie Cars, most of the story focuses on the encounter between rookie race car Lightning McQueen and the inhabitants of a small town on Route 66 that was once thriving but has been bypassed by the interstate.

Swearingen's book focuses on the development of technology and the unintended but inevitable side effects (both positive and negative). The story of the town in Cars is not a true story except in the sense that it reflects the actual experiences of coal miners, auto workers, and of course small town residents whose place on the main thoroughfare has been usurped.

There is, of course, a certain irony in this story making its point about "progress" and those left behind it through some very advanced computer animation. Things change around us gradually and it is easy to fail to realize just how much things have changed. If you want to see this very vividly, just watch some bloopers from the original Star Trek series. We are so used nowadays to doors that open automatically that we can easily forget that in the original series someone had to manually pull the door out of characters' way, and there are plenty of clips where this failed to happen and Capt. Kirk collides with the door.

The key message of Cars, however, is not primarily about progress and those it leaves behind (if anything, it encourages those sidelined to be the ones to put themselves "back on the map"). But it is about moral excellence being more important than excellence in competition. When Lightning McQueen [SPOILER ALERT] chooses to stop short of the finish line and go back to help another race car, the point is clear: winning isn't everything.

This raises a challenge for those of us living in capitalist, technologically sophisticated nations. If we keep managing to be among the top competitors in industry, technology, and the economic world generally, but do not aim and strive for moral excellence, then how much are our other successes really worth? Or, as Jesus is recorded to have put it, "What does it profit if a person gain the whole world, but lose his soul?"

I have no doubt that American companies, while facing serious competition from those elsewhere, are still managing to remain serious players in the world economy. But are we being left behind morally, and are we at times even sacrificing our ethics precisely in order to keep a competitive edge? Many of us would say that improvements in standard of living benefit health, safety, crime reduction, and other things. But if we inflict ethical crimes upon ourselves in our attempts to attain an economic advantage, what is our prosperity worth, and who is it for?

Friday, July 13, 2007

Matthew Accuracy

In their book on Rumor Psychology Nicholas DiFonzo and Prashant Bordia mention the concept of "Matthew Accuracy". Deriving its name from the principle in the Gospel of Matthew that "to the one who has more will be given, but from the one who does not have even the little he has will be taken away", Matthew Accuracy denotes the tendency of truthful rumors to become more truthful, while false rumors tend to become more false (pp.152-4).

If it could be confirmed that this same tendency applies in cultures more closely related to that in which the Gospels were written, I wonder whether this principle might not be useful to historians evaluating the developing Gospel tradition. In essence, might it be arguable that those sayings and stories that tend to become increasingly fantastic and to develop in predictable ways according to the tendencies of the tradition are less likely to be historically accurate, while those that either persist in their essential details or accumulate additional details that seem historically plausible and/or defy the tendencies of the developing tradition are more likely to be historically accurate? I am not suggesting that this is an entirely new idea, but it might be possible, on the basis of research into the psychology of rumor, to turn what may have been a "hunch" for historians up until now into a solid working principle with strong theoretical underpinnings.

God's Rivals?


Gerald R. McDermott's second book on world religions from an Evangelical perspective was published this year, entitled God's Rivals. Both books seem to be part of a larger project, and there are many respects in which this volume is logically prior to his first, Can Evangelicals Learn From World Religions? That first book focused more on what Evangelicals can learn from other religions, while this book seeks to provide more in the way of justification and explanation of the Biblical and historical reasons for believing that they in fact can.


I personally found the first book more helpful, perhaps because I read it at a stage when I was already becoming persuaded that Christians in general can learn from other religious traditions, and that historically they had always done so, irrespective of whether they were always willing to admit it. McDermott admirably acknowledges both that the divine is truly present in the religions, and that the shadow of the demonic is not entirely absent from Christianity. He also makes known to an audience that might not otherwise encounter them key scholarly conclusions regarding the Bible, such as the assumption of most Biblical authors that the 'gods' exist in some sense. McDermott utilizes this theme as a way of approaching the plurality of religions, highlighting those Biblical affirmations that other peoples have been "assigned" to these other deities, and thus their existence and their religions are in a sense divinely ordained. Nevertheless, McDermott allows room for these other religions having some perception of the true God, of the God that Jews and Christians worship, noting such important instances as the story of Abraham and Melchizedek, where Abraham recognizes that this Canaanite priest's "God Most High" is the same God that he himself worships.


My main point of criticism is that McDermott seems unable to do full justice to Paul's argument in Romans 2. Although he mentions the relevant passage more than once, he avoids any reference to Paul's explicit statements that some righteous Gentiles will be excused and not merely accused by their conscience and the general revelation to which they have responded. The whole point of Paul's argument, in light of the "new perspective", is that revelation adds additional knowledge and opportunity but also responsibility, and it does not privilege those who receive the revelation and disobey over against those who do not have and yet seem to obey it instinctively nonetheless. The traditional readings of this chapter, which have viewed Paul as speaking hypothetically about a situation that is in reality impossible, have caused us to fail to identify this passage as one of the most important Biblical texts relating to how Christians view other religious traditions. Paul, rather than dismissing all other religions but Christianity as legalism, seems instead to have been arguing that it is what you do and how you relate to God that matter, rather than belonging to a particular ethnic or religious community and having all the markers thereof.

Such points aside, I would strongly recommend both of McDermott's books to Evangelicals who are wrestling with (or realize they should be wrestling with) the question of how to view other religions in relation to matters of truth and revelation. These books will help readers approach such encounters in a spirit of openness to learning in a way that is neither arrogant nor uncommitted. Down this middle way there is much to be learned that will enrich one's faith and one's understanding of the Bible in the process.

St. Theresa of Banyan - A Mystical Exegesis of Her Most Famous Parable

It is time to reveal the truth behind the urban legend regarding "Theresa Banyan" and the question of hell's endothermic/exothermic nature. This legend in fact derives from a real incident in the life of St. Theresa of Banyan, the famous Indian saint and mystic, known by this name because of her custom of meditating and praying under a banyan tree (all the spots under bodhi trees were taken).

St. Theresa posed the question of whether hell was exothermic or endothermic to a would-be disciple. Like so many of Jesus' questions and retorts, the intention was not to get this young man to reason an answer, but to realize that there could be no rational solution to this paradox, this koan, and that it was the start of a path leading onward to mystical truth.

Alas, the young man took her question in a crassly literal fashion, and went away to study thermodynamics, hoping to find an answer. Apparently he did write his famous answer on an exam, but the question he was answering was "Provide an example of heat transfer by convection", and he received a D-.

Apparently he did remember another snippet of St. Theresa's mystical teachings, albeit once again in a purely literalistic fashion. She had the custom of telling her disciples that "It will be a cold day in hell when I will sleep with you", not as a statement of fact or a reference to a desire for physical union, but to teach them symbolically that when one experiences mystical union with the One, the fear of hell and in a sense hell itself is extinguished.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

The Legend of Therese Banyan

I am grateful to Marc Goodacre for sharing his own research on the urban legend regarding hell's exothermic/endothermic nature. As previously mentioned, my own research of late has turned to precisely the theme he discussed in his 2004 lecture which he shares, namely oral tradition and the circulation of urban legends. Of course, the circulation of such legends in our digital age via e-mail allows for much wider dissemination, as well as more precise reproduction, than was the case in most ancient contexts. Nevertheless, this story's growth from its earliest form into the diverse versions now preserved in many places on the web and known to many of us still illustrates, to some small extent, the ways in which legends originate, grow and spread.

Among recent urban legends that managed to be taken seriously by some, one of my favorites is of relatively recent origin. It tells of how some Christians made a bonfire of Pokemon-related items in protest against the game's persistent mentions of "evolution".

Will hell freeze over, or will all hell break loose? The scientific question

Most readers will probably have already encountered this bit of web humor which asks "Is hell endothermic or exothermic?" but I thought I'd share it for those who may still not have seen it, since it ties into the theme of my previous two blog entries, as well as my broader interest in religion and science. :-) [It is found in lots of places on the internet, but to give credit where credit is due, I copied it from here...]


A thermodynamics professor had written a take home exam for his graduate students. It had one question:

"Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Support your answer with a proof."

Most of the students wrote proofs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:

"First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So, we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.

As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.

Now, we look at the rate of change in the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand as souls are added. This gives two possibilities:

#1 If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

#2 Of course, if Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Ms. Therese Banyan during my Freshman year, "that it will be a cold night in Hell before I sleep with you," and we take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, #2 cannot be true, and so Hell is exothermic."

The Tree Of Life

I find myself needing to say more about the imagery in the movie The Fountain (reviewed in my previous blog entry). Although I am a religion professor specializing in Biblical studies, I tend to have more to say about other subjects on my blog - perhaps because I have so many other forums and outlets for expressing myself on things to do with the Bible.

Apart from in my class on The Bible, in which we discuss the creation stories early in the semester, the other context in which the tree of life comes up most frequently is in discussion with young-earth creationists, primarily because this is a point at which their system of beliefs is radically out of sync with the Bible. In the Garden of Eden, the fundamentalists claim, there was no death - death only came into the world as a result of the fall, turning T-Rex into a carnivore. This is nonsense, not only scientifically, but Biblically. In Genesis 2-3, the tree of life is the means of preventing death, which is the natural state of things, the end which Human (I refuse to call him 'Adam' as though that were a name in Hebrew, this being one of the things that misleads those reading in English into thinking this is a story about two literal, historical individuals in the past) will come to without the tree. And of course, that is what happens - the "death sentence" is not immediate, but being excluded from access to the tree is, with the result that he will eventually die. In this Genesis creation story, therefore, death is natural and immortality is unnatural, a free gift that counters the natural way of creation.

What is most striking about the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures is that there is no time spent lamenting the loss of access to immortality presented in Genesis 2-3. Instead, death as the end of life is taken for granted in every piece of Hebrew literature up until the Book of Daniel, which not only reflects contact with Persian and Greek thought, but also the crisis of martyrdom in religious persecution, which raised problems of theodicy that the Jews had not encountered before in anything like the same extent or to the same degree.

The modern obsession with immortality and afterlife has led to a number of profoundly unsettling consequences, few if any of which I think those who developed the doctrine could have foreseen or even imagined. First, there is the negation of the goodness of the creation, in particular but not only its bodily component. This outlook (which I am ashamed to admit I once held myself, in my teenage years) is responsible for, and/or a consequence of, the viewpoint that the world will soon pass away and be replaced by a perfect spiritual existence. "Don't bother polishing the brass on the Titanic" is a slogan many fundamentalists will be familiar with, and it is applied to being concerned for the environment or in any way showing concern for ongoing human history. The Earth is a sinking ship, and the fundamentalist Christian is looking forward to getting off, confident in his lifejacket.

There is also an egotism that is typical of American culture, which American Christianity plays upon but merely projects into the future. Whereas the origins of the doctrine of the afterlife are to be found in a conviction that God would change the fortunes of the poor who suffered throughout this life, and would reward the martyrs who were killed precisely because they persisted in obeying God's laws, in an American context it is about "mansions over the hilltop", in which the rich of the earth will get to inherit the greater riches of heaven. Such an inversion of a Biblical worldview is a travesty.

I am not opposed to God granting us eternal life. It would be a pleasant surprise, and not at all out of keeping with God's character. But to focus on it in an American context leads to too many warpings of fundamental Christian values. Some Christians may find this suggestion ludicrous, but I would argue that they are the ones who cannot imagine doing something for God, much less giving one's life, unless they are going to get something out of it personally. In essence, I hear echoes of the character of the Satan in the Book of Job asking about Christians, "Sure they are generous and put others first - they are assured they will get it all back and more in the afterlife! Do Christians serve God for nothing?" In short, afterlife-centered forms of Christianity insert an inherent contradiction into the Bible, between a focus on rewards as motivation for doing the right thing, and the challenge of the Book of Job that we must be tested to see whether we will do the right thing even if we do not get anything out of it.

That tree of life is a symbol, and this symbol reappears in the Book of Revelation. There the Greek word for 'tree' is the same one at times used in reference to the cross. And so as this last book in the Christian Bible takes up an image from the first book, it transforms it in a provocative way. The message is not merely that the cross has become the source of life, but that the meaning of eternal life is to be found in self-sacrifice. As the Rush song "You Bet Your Life" puts it, whatever we live and die for, "the stakes are the same." The question is whether we will give our lives for institutions and gain, or whether we will give our lives cherishing the value of the lives of others, the moments spent with them. The challenge from Biblical sources is not that different from the challenge posed to us by the film The Fountain: Can we live in the present in such a way that, should God decide to grant us life that transcends the grave, the sorts of lives we live would be ones worth bestowing this gift upon?

The Fountain

Yesterday I watched the movie The Fountain.Having read a review or two I was geared up to find it incoherent; instead I found it fabulous, insightful, provocative and deeply moving. I highly recommend it.

The story focuses on two characters, Tommy and Izzi, who are husband and wife. Tommy is a scientific researcher trying to find a cure for cancer, and he has a personal investment in his research, since Izzi has terminal cancer. Izzi is writing a book called The Fountain, and the queen of spain and the conquistador in the story are also Tom and Izzi (and played once again by Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz). We also meet Tom in a bald futuristic setting in which Jackman looks remarkably like Peter Gabriel, in which he encounters Izzi in memories and flashbacks, but I will say more about that later. SPOILER WARNING: You may want to go rent it and watch it before reading further, although what follows may actually help prepare you for the movie (some viewers whose reviews I read did not seem to follow what was going on).

Izzi has come to terms with her death, inspired in part by studying Mayan beliefs about death and the afterlife for her book. She comes to understand that death is as natural as life, that life comes from death. She mentions at one point that her father (if I remember correctly) had a seed planted on his grave, so that now he is no longer there, but has become one with the tree, and whenever a sparrow eats from the fruit of the tree, her father soars with it through the air. Death, she says, is the "road to awe".

Tommy, on the other hand, views death as simply another disease like any other, for which one day they will find the cure. In fact, his research includes the discovery of a plant, brought back from a South American rainforest, that he hoped would cure cancer, but in fact reverses aging. As it turns out, it also can reverse cancer, but this is not discovered until Izzi has died.

Some viewers have interpreted the movie as a true story about individuals who have found the secret of immortality, and so we encounter them across vast stretches of time. This, however, cannot be correct since it cannot make sense of the plotlines. It is a story about Tommy's attempt to find closure, symbolized by his attempts to write a final chapter for Izzi's book, which she left unfinished and asked him to complete.

In the far-future space setting, which I understand to be Tommy's inner world, he has in fact discovered the youth-restoring properties of the tree they discovered in South America. He has planted that very sort of tree over Izzi's grave, and she has become one with the tree. In the far distant future, he has taken the tree in a spaceship that is essentially an eco-bubble to the distant star that they Mayans called Shebulba, and which they viewed as their underworld. Izzi had been fascinated with the Mayans' choice of this dying star (as opposed to a healthy one) as their underworld, and Tommy envisages himself taking her (as the tree) there, so that when the star finally dies, she can be reborn. But he is haunted on his journey by Izzi's request that he finish the book, which he still has not done. The tree dies just before they get to Shebulba, just as in reality Izzi died just before they discovered the benefits of the tree extract that could have saved her.

Finally, he must come to grips with Izzi's death and say goodbye. He finishes the book. In the last chapter, the conquistador finds the tree of life and drinks its sap, but instead of living forever, plants sprout from him and he is quickly overgrown. In this very symbolic ending, eternal life is shown to consist not in preserving someone or something statically, but in being part of the ongoing cycles of life, the healthy process that is the life of our world and our universe. As the film closes, Tommy plants a seed on Izzi's grave, and says goodbye.

The films is full of symbolism, both from Genesis and from elsewhere. Although the movie is called "The Fountain" (i.e. of Youth), the key imagery is of the tree of life. This overlaps with Mayan mythology of the First Father who gives his life to create the world, symbolized or thought of as a tree. There are also several moments in the film that begin with an inverted perspective, perhaps hinting that there is a sense in which we see reality inverted, particularly when it comes to death and living forever. And there is the powerful sense that love is the tree of life, since it is in connection with the one we love that we most often use the language of immortality, and most desperately desire to overcome death.

The most powerful moment(s) in the film is perhaps the moment that Tommy keeps revisiting in his mind. It was a moment when he was at his lab, and Izzi comes in to tell him that the first snow had begun to fall, and they always would go out to walk together in the first snow. He tells her he cannot, his colleagues are waiting for him, so she goes alone. He revisits this moment more than once over the course of the movie, and the last time he makes a different choice. He goes after her, unwilling to be hindered even by colleagues, and walks with her in the snow. It is at this point that he realizes the meaning of life: not to spend our time trying to make the one we love immortal, but to spend and cherish each moment we have with them.

Snap Shots

I just installed what I consider a nice little tool on this site called Snap Shots that enhances links with visual previews of the destination site, interactive excerpts of Wikipedia articles, MySpace profiles, IMDb profiles and Amazon products, display inline videos, RSS, MP3s, photos, stock charts and more.

Sometimes Snap Shots bring you the information you need, without your having to leave the site, while other times it lets you "look ahead," before deciding if you want to follow a link or not.

Should you decide this is not for you, just click the Options icon in the upper right corner of the Snap Shot and opt-out. One reason why I haven't hesitated to add this (in my opinion) useful little function to my blog is the fact that you can choose not to use it, should you prefer!

For more information about Snap Shots visit their web page.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Bad arguments

I took the time today to post a comment on a science blog entry about bad arguments and global warming. Here's what I wrote:

In our local newspaper we once had someone say write a letter to the editor which basically said 'Enough with the global warming already, didn't you notice it's COLD OUTSIDE?' If most people cannot distinguish between 'climate' and 'weather', much less understand the diverse effects of climate change, how are we to manage to have serious discussions of this among the general public?


The United States has developed into a culture where people are polarized, and all new information and expressions of viewpoints are first evaluated by seeing where they come from, then dismissing them and ridiculing them on the basis of their source. Before we can hope to accomplish CLIMATE change, we need to figure out how to accomplish CULTURE change and do something about the appalling lack of critical thinking and the general unwillingness to examine evidence and discuss issues in a serious, well-informed, intelligent and calm manner.


While global warming is an important issue, the underlying issue that we argue in a lawyer-like fashion, attempting to get our opinions off the hook rather than genuinely investigate evidence regardless of where it may lead us, is in many respects more troubling.

Those interested in the broader subject of global warming and the environment may find the series How To Talk To A Climate Skeptic interesting.

Androids and Gynoids and Ghosts, oh my!

Last night I finally watched Ghost in the Shell 2 - Innocence. As also with the first Ghost in the Shell movie, this one was packed with action, amazing animation, philosophical questions and quotations from the Bible. It is great to be able to watch such things and know I am doing research! The theme of the movie obviously ties in with my current work on artificial intelligence and religion. I've also read some of Philip K. Dick's philosophical writings included in the volume The Shifting Realities of Philip K. Dick. At first I was somewhat disappointed with Dick's affirmations about androids as by definition predictable - until I realized that, in Dick's terminology, if an "android" is not merely a simulation of the human without the inner reality, then it is, in his view, actually human.

Here are a few of the many thought-provoking ideas and statements from Ghost in the Shell 2:
  • What the body creates is as much an expression of the DNA as the body itself.
  • Mechanical dolls haunt us, because they make us wonder whether we too are reducible to mechanical parts.
  • "We weep for the bird's cry, but not for the blood of fish. Blessed are those who have voice"


On a related note, the new season of Battlestar Galactica will return next year, presumably around the same time as LOST, but there will be a special episode in November telling the back-story of the Pegasus between the start of the war and when they encountered Galactica. Here is the sneak peek that was on Sci-Fi last night.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

AIG Creation Museum refuted by fossils found beneath museum

I realized that it might be easier for some if I actually post the video itself on my blog, and it seemed about time I learned how to do that, so here it is!

God is a mystery, not an explanation

The world we live in is full of mysteries. When we envisage the self-replicating molecules that drive life on this planet, we wonder how they could have arisen, and we seek explanations. Likewise with the very fact than anything exists at all, we wonder why there is something rather than nothing.

To say "God did it" is not an explanation. To suggest that an omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient being is somehow self explanatory and a way to eliminate mystery is misguided. This doesn't mean that it is inappropriate to talk about God when talking about these mysteries. But God is part of the mystery, and to speak of God is to affirm that beyond these tangible mysteries we perceive there are even greater mysteries regarding which we may not even yet be asking the right questions yet.

You might ask whether or not God was in fact an "explanation" for the ancient Hebrew authors who wrote the Biblical creation stories. To answer that question, we must put ancient Hebrew thought in its context in time and space. Although the Hebrew word olam has evolved to mean 'universe' or 'world', in the Biblical world it still had a meaning more akin to 'age'. There was no single word that referred to everything that exists, because existence was not generally thought of in unitary fashion. The sun, the moon, the earth were, in the wider context, all separate divine entities. In this context, in which other peoples were talking about "deities" in the plural, the Hebrews began to use the plural as an abstract singular noun (as was done in Semitic languages) to refer to "the deity" in the singular. This was an affirmation that all these divine realities (what we would refer to as impersonal "forces of nature") were in fact united in a single "being" that encompassed all of them and of whom all of them were an expression. So, in a sense, all that we mean by "universe" really was encompassed within the Hebrew term elohim, the deity. While I would not go so far as to argue that the ancient Hebrew authors were advocates of panentheism, their worldview can be plotted on a trajectory moving in that direction.

That we are dealing with a trajectory and not an end point is important to note. Some Biblical authors still thought of God fighting with the sea monster to create, as was the norm in the wider Mesopotamian context. The furthest that the Israelites got was to think of all the deities - the storm god, the heavens and mother earth all wrapped into one God in the singular who is responsible for all the things these diverse deities were thought to do - fertility of womb and of soil, creation of life, blessing of households, and so on. But there is still much of the assumptions of pre-scientific polytheism in such a view of God, and it still attributes a personal purpose to forces of nature, to weather, to earthquakes, and so on.

Without the Hebrews' insights into the unity of these divine/natural forces, the rise of modern science might never have been possible. The challenge to the theologian in the modern scientific age is to find ways of embracing science, one of Abraham's children every much as Judaism, Christianity and Islam, and to find the next spot we can affirm on the trajectory of mystery that begins, but by no means ends, with the writings of the Biblical authors.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Breaking News: Creationism Museum's Foundations Undermine Creationism's Foundations!

I just had to share this item from the Pharyngula blog. The rock that the creationism museum in Kentucky is based on is full of fossils, which obviously support the scientific understanding of life and its history. The blog links to a YouTube video about the rocks and the fossils they contain.

Choosing a motto

I was recently asked to provide a quotation that could serve as a "motto" in connection with an interview I gave to a Romanian journalist. I did not have one readily prepared and ready to go, but I quickly decided upon the following:


Man's knowledge and mastery of the world have advanced to such an extent through science and technology that it is no longer possible for anyone seriously to hold the New Testament view of the world - in fact, there is no one who does...it is impossible to revive an obsolete view of the world by a mere fiat, and certainly not a mythical view. For all our thinking today is shaped irrevocably by modern science. A blind acceptance of the New Testament mythology would be arbitrary, and to press for its acceptance as an article of faith would be to reduce faith to works.

Rudolf Bultmann, in Kerygma and Myth


Is this a good motto for me? Any recommendations for alternatives? What would your motto be?

Yesterday I read (in a somewhat cursory fashion) two books by Alister McGrath (one co-authored with his wife), Dawkins' God and The Dawkins Delusion?. I remember at one point having been somewhat disappointed with one of McGrath's earlier books, Understanding Jesus. It just seemed at the time so simplistic in presenting the traditional Christian viewpoint, without asking any of the troubling critical questions that I found myself posing at the time. While I might still view Understanding Jesus in this way, I can strongly recommend McGrath's two books about Dawkins, his scientific work and his atheism. McGrath, a former atheist and as far as I know no relation to the McGrath who is writing this blog entry, speaks on behalf not just of educated Christians but also atheists who find themselves exasperated with Dawkins' linkage between his scientific work and his atheism, his charicatures of Christian belief (if, admittedly, many ordinary believers who have never read a book about their own faith do indeed at times resemble the charicatures). There is nothing polemical, no attempt to argue against any conclusion of mainstream science, no attempt to argue that science proves Christianity instead. McGrath just provides a balanced presentation of how Dawkins, who writes so admirably clearly and soundly about evolution in many of his books, does not show the same aptitude for writing his books about atheism.

As my 'motto' indicates, I do believe that Christians today need to admit that data from the natural sciences have transformed our worldview, and that we no longer view it in precisely the way that Jesus and his first followers did. Nor can we ever hope to do so, no matter how hard we might try. No leap of faith can replace a post-scientific worldview with a pre-scientific one. No willful attempt at literalism will ever be the same as the naive literalism of a pre-scientific age. This is not, however, an argument against Christianity or religion any more than it is an argument against science (for earlier science has had to adapt its worldview in response to new discoveries also). But it does set before us the challenge that confronts religious believers in every age: What is the heart of our faith, and how can it be appropriately expressed in the context of the time in which we find ourselves living?

Sunday, July 8, 2007

Caught in the act

Today in my Sunday school class (which has been studying John's Gospel) we reached the beginning of John chapter 8, the story of the woman caught in adultery. The story itself is one of the most famous stories about Jesus there is. Yet among New Testament scholars, the story is famous for other reasons.

The textual evidence, although strongly suggestive that the first 11 verses of John 8 did not originally belong to this Gospel, are intriguing. The earliest manuscripts omit the passage, but they also tend to include a dot or space indicating awareness of copies that add something there. Later, we have manuscripts that include this story, and they too signal that they are aware of copies of the Gospel that lack it, using similar devices.

The story's inclusion here is readily intelligible, independent of questions about who was responsible. The story provides a nice jumping-off point for the symbolism of testimony and spiritual illegitimacy found later in the chapter.

When it comes to the interpretation of the story, it is important to note that the Pharisees (as both Josephus and later rabbinic literature show) were characterized by concern to avoid capital punishment whenever possible. In view of this, it seems most likely that their test of Jesus would have been to see whether and how he could find an appropriate loophole and avoid a death sentence. In typical fashion, Jesus does not engage in a quest for loopholes in the law, or even point out the irregularity of the situation (as though the woman could have been caught in the act of adultery on her own!), but appeals to a broader moral principle. That principle of judging others as we would want to be judged ourselves is of course attributed to Jesus elsewhere.

The majority scholarly judgment that this story was probably not originally part of John's Gospel is sound, if not absolute. And so Christian readers must ask the question whether the authority of this story lies in its being an authentic piece of historical recollection, or an original part of a book included in the canon of Scripture. Those of us concerned to promote Christians being better informed about the processes that go into producing an English-language translation of the Bible should be grateful for this pericope, which brings such problems up into the text rather than allowing them to be ignored with all the other footnotes.

In closing this blog entry, I'd like to suggest that the story be regarded as self-authenticating. We will never be certain that this story reflects a real incident in the life of Jesus (although its inclusion can be argued to reflect a widespread knowledge of the story which demanded it be committed to writing and included, which could support its authenticity). We will never be certain it was an original part of John's Gospel (although we might have sufficient grounds to feel certain that it wasn't). But in the end, the story's challenge to our tendency to point fingers at others rather than acknowledge our own failings and shortcomings does not need to be attributed to a particular person in order to be challenging.

Discussing the technical scholarly issues is crucially important, since without such discussions, people can treat difficult questions as though they are easy or even non-existent. But in the end it is important also to read the story and hear its message, and then to do with it what we will. The cultural context is noticeably different (in the U.S. nowadays we would not have a posse apprehending an adulteress and enacting vigilante justice - more or less the only kind there was in the ancient world), and such details likewise ought not be ignored, but they do not, in the end, prevent us from hearing the challenge of this story addressing us across the ages in a way that seems to have lost none of its force or meaning.

Sola Scriptura?

Although I am a Protestant, I must confess that the idea of 'sola Scriptura', of 'Scripture alone', doesn't work. It could perhaps theoretically work in Islam, where one can (assuming one doesn't take a critical approach to the text) assume the unity of the book as a given. In the case of the Bible, such assumptions are impossible. In order to speak of 'Scripture', one has to accept the authority not only of those Jews and Christians who made the decisions about what books would be included in the canon, but also the authority of those who produced the critical editions of the Hebrew and Greek texts and the judgment of the translators.

In order to treat the Bible as 'inerrant' one has to attribute inerrancy to not only those who made these judgments, but also to the authors (at least while they were writing). But of course, Protestants have a certain aversion to the idea of church leaders who can make infallible pronouncements but the rest of the time are fallible human beings, so this view shouldn't appeal to as many Protestants as it apparently does.

Ultimately, one has to attribute inerrancy to someone or something other than God in order to take this sort of view of Scripture. But the real aim is not to connect ourselves with the inerrancy of God, but to be able to claim the inerrancy of our own views about God, claiming that they are just the teachings of the inerrant Scriptures. Any doctrine that ultimately serves the interests of individuals claiming their own certainty must be criticially evaluated.

"Sola Scriptura" still has a certain potentially valid meaning - one can still value these writings as our earliest Christian sources. But not studying them critically, or pretending they dropped down from heaven in a single package, is not an option. The time has come for us to stop speaking nonsense in the name of God, and to stop tolerating others who do the same. Those whose views are expressed in the public sphere are open to rational discussion and evaluation - whether they are about science, the environment, the Bible, religion or anything else.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

You Wouldn't Steal A Car...

I have a reasonable amount of sympathy for the film and record companies who want us to buy their products. I'd be delighted if, rather than reading the electronic version of my book on NetLibrary or some similar database, all those interested in my book would go buy a copy. The truth is, however, that books like mine (a revised version of my doctoral dissertation) are of specialty interest, and most people who read it will borrow it from a public library. In my field, there are other publishers such as E. J. Brill whose books are simply not meant to be bought by ordinary mortals. They publish expensive books aimed at purchase by libraries.


By increasing the cost of a DVD or a CD as they have, film and record companies have begun to move in the same direction. The truth is that most of the movies I watch I borrow from the public library. And this is where I come to the rhetoric of the "Don't download/copy" plea that is featured at the start of many DVDs nowadays. It says "You wouldn't steal a car...so don't steal a movie".


But the analogy is flawed in the case of people who would not buy the DVD or CD anyway - or, like me, might pick it up if it is on the clearance shelf at a local used book store, or borrow it from the public library, or pick it up at a library sale (I just bought a whole bunch of stuff at one today). So let's try rewriting the rhetoric in a more appropriate manner:

You wouldn't check a book out of the library. You wouldn't borrow a newspaper. You wouldn't buy a second-hand CD. So don't borrow a movie!


The trouble is, of course, that we would borrow all these things, or purchase them in these ways that give those who made them no further revenues. And the film and music industries should be glad. Most of the CDs I own that I bought at full price (which is a very small fraction of my collection) I bought because I came to love a composer's music listening to a copy borrowed from the library, copied onto a tape (way back when) and listened to over and over again. Take Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Arnold Bax - I would quite likely not own the many CDs by them that I do, had it not been for borrowing and copying from a public library and listening repeatedly, so that I came to love the music.


No one is losing money when someone downloads something they never would have bought if it was for sale at its usual price. Many of us would gladly take a free plane ticket, when we wouldn't buy one because we cannot afford it. So the argument that every downloaded song is a lost revenue doesn't work. Indeed, some of us with a pack-rat obsession have downloaded more than we have managed or are likely to ever manage to listen to.


2,000 years ago, being an author was a different sort of thing in many ways. Once one's works began to be copied, the process could not be stopped. Works frequently circulated in the name of famous authors as well, and pseudepigraphy was rife. When New Testament scholars ask questions about which works really come from the authors they claim they do, they are asking altogether appropriate questions. Indeed, the irony is that in 2 Thessalonians 2:2 the author acknowledges that there are letters claiming to be from Paul which are inauthentic - and some scholars have suspected that one of the Thessalonian letters might itself be an example of pseudepigraphy.


As an educator who teaches (among other things) the Synoptic Gospels, dealing with matters of plagiarism can be tricky. After all, by modern standards, that is precisely what Matthew and Luke do - they use Mark and give no credit! The good news (for me - bad news for some students) is that the study of the Synoptic problem trains New Testament scholars to identify indications of copying, of literary dependence, breaks in style, and other such indications.


Read, listen, photocopy, download. My biggest concern is not how people access various media, but that many people access sources that are unreliable, and do not attempt to trace claims and rumors to their sources, much less give credit where credit is due. Being exposed to literature and music and great literature, and to learn from reading the arguments of others how to draw one's own conclusions - those are the skills all too many are lacking. If we continue to allow mere opinion to substitute for reason, and emotional appeals to bypass rational judgment, then we will end up in a place that is frightful. For then, even the assumption made in those anti-piracy blurbs will no longer be valid. "You wouldn't steal a car..." will be too sweeping an assumption to make in a culture in which anything goes and in which honesty loses its value.

Friday, July 6, 2007

A Scanner Darkly

I finished watching the movie A Scanner Darkly based on the novel by Philip K. Dick. I also have a book with collected philosophical and other essays by Dick checked out from the library, in connection with my ongoing research on religion and artificial intelligence. Although AI doesn't really feature in A Scanner Darkly, religion certainly does, beginning with the title, which alludes to the Biblical image of seeing in a glass or mirror darkly (which of course made sense with respect to ancient mirrors, but is not a meaningful simile today). Several other Biblical allusions or quotes pepper the film, and one of the characters towards the end suggests that 'bringing good out of evil' is 'God's ammo.'

The film raises broader questions about human existence and our propensity for addiction. That large percentages of humanity might live in a medicated haze in the future was also famously explored by Huxley. The connection between drugs and religion has also been explored in numerous ways and in various fashions by William James, The Beatles, and more recently (somewhat indirectly) by research on the neurological basis of religious experience.

More than questions of whether religious experience is 'all in the mind' (somewhat less troubling, perhaps, in a world used to asking whether all of our perception is 'all in the mind') is the question of what traditional religions may do if pharmacology can offer stability, peace of mind and tranquility without addiction and harmful side effects. The dark world of addiction-induced psychoses explored in A Scanner Darkly is one thing, but the potential for Prozac and drugs like it to (as one article put it) "do the work of the Spirit" is a different sort of issue. If one could get from a pill, without side effects, the same experience one gets from going to church and singing worship songs (for example), how would that impact the religious traditions that have devoted so much effort into offering a feel-good experience.

If you watch A Scanner Darkly, you will also get a chance to watch cartoonized figures do things in an R-rated movie that they couldn't have gotten away with doing on screen if they were simply human actors without the movie being classified differently. And so, in the end, this film that explores ethical questions about the sacrifice of the one for the many (without the individual's consent) brings us back to technology and artificial persons. Sooner or later, the questions will need to be addressed of whether sexual intercourse (if it can be called that) with a perfect replica of a human being is in fact sexual intercourse (and, in cases, fornication or adultery), and whether on-screen intercourse between androids who perfectly replicate human anatomy and are "fully functional" (if not "superiorly functional", as hinted at in the movie A.I.) will be classified as pornography. But it will be if and when other androids begin to tell us that they find watching such movies arousing that the biggest questions about artificial intelligence and sentience will really confront us.

Are You Alive? Prove It!

Fans of the current Battlestar Galactica series will recognize the title of this blog entry as the first words of dialogue spoken on the miniseries that started it. The question is asked by an evolved cylon who poses the challenge to a human armistice officer. It was only today that the full significance of these words struck me, for some reason. The question is presumably one that had, at some point in the past, been asked by humans of the cylons. The machines evolved and became intelligent, and demanded rights. "So you claim you are alive and deserve rights?" they were asked. "Prove it!" The cylons, having evolved to the point where they resemble their creators, are to be viewed as posing this question back to their makers.

The troubling thing is that we cannot prove it. Even if we might make some attempt at proving we are alive, we confront the possibility that there may be (as the famous phrase from Star Trek put it) "life...but not as we know it". If we wished to prove our sentience that would be altogether impossible - how can we prove a subjective experience?

There is an "obvious" lesson to take away from this, namely that if our "toasters" or any other appliances demand rights claiming they are living and/or sentient, we should take them at their word - and hope they take us at ours. Yet there is the broader question of other subjective experiences and how far we can press this analogy. What about those who claim to have achieved enlightenment, or experienced Jesus as alive? The difference, perhaps, is that each of us has an experience of consciousness, while not all of us have experienced either enlightenment or the risen Jesus. Being alive and conscious are in a category of their own - that which thinkers such as Descartes and Sankara have pointed to as impossible to deny without inherent self-contradiction. The issue posed by androids and aliens is that we attribute consciousness to other human beings through analogy with ourselves. Those instances where we can no longer proceed according to such analogies will represent an important test of our morals and ultimately our humanity.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

What Romania Has Taught Me About the Bible

I lived in Romania for three years, have been married to a Romanian for fifteen, and have had a lot of contact with Romania and Romanians. I love the surprised look on people's faces when I tell them that I didn't really understand the New Testament until I lived in Romania.

Romania was part of the Roman Empire at one point, but even had this not been the case, it still would be part of that region stretching along the Eastern Mediterranian, up into the Balkans, over into Turkey and North Africa and other places as well, which share a number of key cultural values in common, such as their honor-shame values systems, the importance of relationships (especially of blood) in all transactions, and many other features. It is cultures such as these that are used by social scientists seeking to understand the related values system of this part of the world in ancient times, including authors such as Bruce Malina and Kenneth Bailey who have sought to apply insights from the study of these cultures directly to issues of New Testament interpretation. No amount of time spent reading such books can substitute for time spent in relevant cultures; on the other hand, Americans and Western Europeans who spend time in such cultures will benefit greatly from these books. Indeed, on more than one occasion I lent Malina's book Windows on the World of Jesus: Time Travel to Ancient Judea to colleagues from the U.S.. England and Wales, suggesting that it could just as easily have been entitled Windows on the World of Romania.

Let me offer just a few examples, including one that relates to my current research. First, I recall vividly a visit by Anthony Thiselton to the campus where I taught in Romania. He had recently published his commentary on The First Epistle to the Corinthians and spoke about those in Corinth who said "I am of Paul" and "I am of Apollos". Thiselton emphasized that this was not merely party politics as we understand it nowadays, but the Roman patronage system. There were a very small number of individuals who had intrinsic power and status, and then others would gain influence by association with such individuals as retainers, like a vine climbing on a tree. It only took a few moments to realize that this was precisely what I had witnessed in the politics of the school I taught at. There were a couple of individuals who had their own churches where they were pastors and had PhDs. Then there were other individuals who associated with them, lacking the degrees and the status of senior pastor, but who became influential through the association. It was illuminating, and if I had had Thiselton's commentary (or heard his talk) earlier, I might have better understood what was going on around me.

I also found myself wondering about the language of 'brothers' in the New Testament. In an American context, we tend to think of such language as egalitarian, and indeed there are uses in the New Testament that might lead one to that very conclusion. Yet in Romania, 'brother' can indicate distance and respect rather than intimacy. This raises the question of whether it is more likely that modern Romanians, with very similar cultural values to those reflected in the New Testament, failed to rise to the challenge of the Bible's counter-cultural teachings, or whether they have indeed understood it and practiced it in the way the early Christians probably did, and it is the Americans and others who have failed to see that the seemingly egalitarian language did not in fact obliterate social differences. I still haven't made up my mind on this particular question, but without this cross-cultural experience, I never would have asked it.

Finally (for this entry, at any rate), I have recently been reading about oral history and rumor transmission. On a recent visit to Romanian relatives in Canada, one of them told me how Tim Hortons coffee had been laced with tobacco to make it more addictive. I immediately spotted it as an unreliable rumor (it had all the signs), as a quick search at Snopes confirmed for me today. Romania is a remarkable place when it comes to rumors - perhaps it was the lack of reliable news during the communist era, but the rumor mills seem to work as effectively and as rapidly as ever, in the present as in the past.

An important question that needs to be asked by anyone working on the historical study of Jesus is whether our information constitutes anything other than rumor, or more strictly speaking "legend" (which may be defined as rumor that persists for longer periods - just as we speak of "urban legends" for persistent rumors today). Those seeking a more mundane occurrence behind the miracle stories have long suspected that stories such as that about Jesus walking on the could have arised through a misunderstanding of a story about him walking beside the sea (since it is the same preposition in Greek). The version of the story in John chapter 6 lends plausibility to this - the focus there is on the rapid end of the storm and arrival at the other side once they have seen Jesus. But as in all cases of rumor transmission, while it can be asserted that there is often a historical core, studies show clearly that any original piece of reliable information gets obliterated in the transmission process, or at least obscured so badly as to be unrecognizable. The point, in the end, is that rumors circulate and we cannot know what basis, however slim, there may have been in history, or what it may have looked like.

One may think of the allusion in the Book of Revelation to the return of Nero from the dead, the beast whose "deadly wound was healed". Roman authors from this period show just how widely such rumors were believed, and the chaos that ensued. While even today news reporting, official bulletins, television and the internet do not always succeed in stemming the tide of rumors, imagine in the situation in the ancient world where no such 'reliable' sources existed. If at least one New Testament author believed the Nero rumors, why would we expect them to not also provide us similarly rumor-based information elsewhere?

Realizing how unreliable the information that circulates among the populace is - whether the subject is science, politics, religion or coffee - makes me very concerned about the reliability of the New Testament's information - perhaps moreso than any historical critical investigation could. Nevertheless, books such as Allport & Postman's Psychology of Rumor, Vansina's Oral Tradition As History, and DiFonzo's Rumor Psychology: Social And Organizational Approaches, all confirm that oral reporting can at times be verified, but can often obscure the truth rather than inform us about it. One of my current research projects is to identify instances of texts reflecting oral transmission of a common saying and to seek to apply the insiguts of the aforementioned studies, as well as my own experiences.

For Christian faith, questions such as these are profoundly disturbing. It is easy to imagine how a misunderstanding could generate a story such as that of Jesus' empty tomb. The practice of secondary burial was a distinctively Jewish one, and it is possible to imagine how a Gentile Christian pilgrim visiting Jerusalem could have misunderstood about this and sparked off the rumor that eventually became the empty tomb story found in Mark. This is not to suggest that Christian faith in the resurrection was based only on a rumor - Paul had such faith based on visionary and other experiences, and he doesn't mention the empty tomb, and so the rumor - if there was a rumor - might have arisen later. My point is simply that it seems impossible to ever be certain, using the tools of historical study, that something like this scenario (misunderstanding leading to rumor) did not occur. As so often, historical study's most troubling questions for religious believers do not relate to its disproving of things they hold dear, but of its inability to prove those things that are, for many Christians, of central importance - the resurrection and other stories of the miraculous being a case in point.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Fossil Hunting

Yesterday I went fossil hunting. After spending Canada Day in Canada, my family and I came back via upstate New York, where two days ago my son and I happened across a crinoid (sea lilly) and a coral fossil on the beach. This led to us spending some time yesterday at Penn Dixie Paleontological and Outdoor Education Center. An abandoned shale quarry, the place doesn't look like much (a somewhat barren area with piles of rocks and a small booth), but once you start picking up rocks it becomes clear that this site is an incredible treasure trove of fossils. One doesn't even have to actually dig in order to find things. My son found several trilobite fossils - I mostly found gastropods, and there were fragments of crinoids all over the place. To visit this former sea bed and examine fossils that are 380 million years old and try to explain them in terms of young-earth creationism is dishonest and deceptive, playing on public lack of understanding of science and our desire for emotional fulfillment to distract attention from evidence that is everywhere around us. Flood Geology doesn't fit these shale beds from the Buffalo, New York area - or any others for that matter. Layers upon layers of living things were here over the course of long periods of time, living underwater and not just buried in a brief cataclysm. One can desperately try to make the evidence seem to point in a different direction, but mainstream science provides the explanations that are the best fit to the evidence.

The latest NCSE newsletter (which I haven't read yet, having just returned home late last night) poses a wonderful challenge to proponents of flood geology. If fossil fuels can be produced in short periods of time as they claim, it ought to be possible not only to replicate this, but to take steps to solve the current fuel situation. Fundamentalist Islam has spread largely thanks to oil money. If Christian fundamentalists have something better, the knowledge that petroleum can be produced in shorter periods under extremely high pressure, then not only can they help break dependence on Middle Eastern oil and thus undermine the spread of Islamic fundamentalism, but they can fund their own works to propagate their own faith, and show how the Bible provides scientific and technological answers.

But, as you may have noticed, they haven't done this. Nor are they likely to. Because their whole system of thought is not based on science, evidence or the Bible, but on the warped thinking of some individuals who are willing to undermine the evidence of both the Bible and science on a very large number of points in order to make it appear to be literally and scientifically accurate on one or two minor points. Those who do such things, instead of being praised by Christians, should be treated as its enemies, since they undermine the credibility of the Gospel and propagate myths and nonsense.

Don't take my word for it. Visit a site like Penn Dixie. Find and handle the fossils for yourselves. Then decide whether you wish to believe in the combined testimony of the natural world and the Bible understood in scholarly and historically appropriate ways, or in the claims of deceivers who will tell you that their God also engages in deception and has either placed in the ground, or allowed to be placed there, evidence that is impressively clear but misleading. If you believe in science, or you believe in God who is not a liar, then you will want to give young-earth creationism a wide berth.

Monday, July 2, 2007

"What the Bible thinks"

This is just a short entry, just to share a further illustration of how the Bible is mythologized, personalized and in some cases deified by well-meaning but misguided Christians. I received a message from someone who disagreed with an answer of mine on Yahoo! Answers, and this individual said he isn't interested in what I think but "what the Bible thinks".

The Bible isn't a person, and even treating it as though it is a single work is misleading. One of the biggest difficulties a "Bible only" approach to Christianity must face is that the Bible was put together, by Jews and Christians, and unless one regards the decisions of those who put the canon(s) together as infallible, then claims to have an infallible Bible become problematic. Add to this the fallible copying process, and the situation becomes all the more complex.

Those who focus such attention on the Bible mean well, and think they are glorifying God. To some of us, however, it seems that they are leaving the mystery of God completely to one side for the supposed certainty the more accessible Bible can give. It is the same sort of thing the Israelites are said to have done at Mt. Sinai - the inaccessible and mysterious God and Moses who had not been heard from were left to one side, and the golden calf substituted in their place. The Bible has become the golden calf of many Christians in our time. How ironic!

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Nothing new under the sun

I thought I had an original idea with my play on the name of Dembski's blog. As it turns out, there is a blog dedicated to parodying Dembski's blog called - you guessed it - Uncommon Dissent. It is allegedly maintained by none other than T. H. Huxley, reports of whose death were apparently, like the reports of the imminent demise of evolution, "greatly exaggerated".

There was also a book published in 2004 entitled Uncommon Dissent, with the subtitle Intellectuals who find Darwinism unconvincing. If you wonder who these "intellectuals" are, they are pretty much all the representatives of the very small handfully of individuals with serious degrees associated with the Intelligent Design movement. They include the well known Behe and Dembski, an "independent scholar", several apologists, a couple of lawyers, mathematicians, philosophers and an editor. Indeed, it might be said that this list of "intellectuals" who find "Darwinism" unconvincing is one of the most damning pieces of evidence in favor of "Darwinism" that one could provide - after all, if this is the best they could come up with, then evolution's support base has to be pretty solid. Apparently they couldn't find a single person who has any expertise in biology (unless you count Behe). There is also a review of the book on WikiPedia that is worth looking at.

So many thanks to the groups that produced these other works of 'uncommon dissent' - both providing a parody of ID by an outsider, and the insiders for providing us with a better parody of what counts of scholarship in the ID crowd than any outsider would have dared.