Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Francis Chan at the Catholic Ecumenical Track

I watched the talk Francis Chan's recently gave to a Catholic group:



This is, of course, right on the heels of a sermon in which he was regurgitating Catholic talking-points. A few random observations:

1. Pastor Francis made a number of good observations about Christian piety, unrelated to Catholicism. He usually has some good things to say. I don't think he should be written off. We get different things from different people. He has his own niche. 

2. I can't foresee the future, but I think it's unlikely that he will convert to Rome. He resists being pigeonholed. He's theologically eclectic. I think he views Catholicism as just another box. He may believe it has a few things that evangelicals can learn from or benefit from, but he doesn't strike me as the kind of person to pulls a package off the shelf and goes by that label. He's more independent. What he did in speaking to the Catholic group was more a case of retranslating their piety into his own priorities. 

3. If the viewer was hoping that he'd clarify his position on Catholicism, his discussion was a disappointment. If you don't feel competent or comfortable with offering a public assessment of Catholic theology, don't accept an invitation to speak to a Catholic audience. The Catholic church is far and away the largest ostensibly Christian denomination. Many unbelievers reject Christianity because they identify Christianity with Roman Catholicism, which they think has discredited itself. 

So we can't avoid evaluating what Rome has to offer. We must present constructive alternatives. Pastor Francis doesn't have to be an expert on Catholicism to have a broadly informed, considered position. A basic way to clarify your own position is to understand opposing positions. That often provides a necessary point of contrast. 

6. Pastor Francis seems to think there's a generic, Christocentric piety which Catholics and evangelicals can share in common. He fails to appreciate that devout Catholics detour their pious impulses into the Rosary, eucharistic adoration, reading Catholic saints and mystics. It's going to be a distinctive Catholic-oriented piety. He failed to explain to the Catholic audience where to look for Jesus. How to cultivate fellowship with God. 

7. He acts like refusing to fellowship with Catholics is tantamount to "hating" Catholics, and falls under our Lord's condemnation of those who refuse to love the brethren. But that's terribly confused. 

8. He acts like you can tell who a real Christian is just by looking into their eyes. How well they emote about Jesus. 

9. Pastor Francis distinguishes between Christians who are "in love with Jesus" and those who aren't. He seems to think it's possible or even necessary for a Christian to be in love with Jesus all the time, and he treats that as what demarcates true followers of Jesus from self-deluded churchgoers. 

It's true that some Christians started out very zealous, but their fervor faded over time. There are different reasons for that. A superficial conversion experience. Or boredom caused by thin theology. After a while they think they've heard it all. There's nothing new or fresh. They stagnate rather than grow. 

However, you also have Christians where the zeal has dried out, but the commitment remains. The juice is gone, yet they faithfully persevere. That's actually a better test of Christian fidelity than when they were motivated by gushing fervor. It's like a marriage where the passion is gone but commitment remains. The couple will see it through to the end, even if the emotional dividends are gone. Endurance is a mark of true Christian faith. 

10. Pastor Francis's ideal is the persecuted church. The underground church. But there's a problem with making that the paradigm. 

i) For one thing, his ideal suffers from internal tension. On the one hand he thinks persecution and suffering for the cause of Christ are what promote genuine church growth. But that model only works if Christians remain a persecuted minority. On the other hand, once church growth crosses a threshold, the church becomes worldly, losing its purity and vision. 

So he doesn't seem to think the Gospel can or should spread beyond a certain point, because true Christian piety requires a dominant culture that oppresses the Christian faith and movement. He can't decide if church growth is good or bad. It's good so long as remains underground, but it can't stay underground if there are too many converts. At that point it's too big to be hidden. 

ii) Apropos (i), Pastor Francis seems to define genuine faith or saving faith in terms of heroic faith. The cult of martyrdom. A martyrdom mystique. He doesn't seem to have a model for how or whether it's possible to be a Christian in ordinary times. Can a faithful Christian have a normal family life? Or must true Christians live on the lam, under constant threat from the authorities? 

Has it occurred to Pastor Chan that there's a sense in which it's easier to be a martyr than a lifelong Christian? Martyrdom can be an escape from the daily demands of the Christian faith. Early release from the humdrum, the frustrations, and disappointments. 

iii) He seems to lack much appreciation for the fact that God calls different Christians to different lives of service. For instance, the church needs theologians and Bible scholars. But that requires some breathing space, where Christians aren't constantly under the gun. Where they can pursue education and research, teach and write. 

11. Instead of guilt-tripping Christians who don't suffer horribly for their faith, Pastor Francis should encourage them to make generous use of their blessings for the benefit of others. That's why God has given some Christians greater opportunities than others. On the one hand we need the purifying experience of the persecuted church. On the other hand, we also need the experience of believers in countries where Christianity is legal, where there's the affluence to cultivate Bible scholarship. Seminaries, Christian colleges, and Christian K-12. These two dynamics cross-pollinate.  

12. Pastor Francis suffers from an occupational hazard of gifted preachers. This holds true for talented performers in general. If you're a gifted public speaker, you acquire a reputation as a gifted public speaker. That in turn can make you self-conscious because there's now an expectation to live up to. That's not confined to preachers. Great performers like Laurence Olivier, Franco Corelli, and Vladimir Horowitz developed stage fright because the expectations were so high. Will you dazzle the audience? Will you say something unforgettable every time you step stage? 

One reason preachers should cultivate a text-oriented preaching style is to avoid becoming self-conscious. You stay in the text. And you bring the congregation into the text. You bring the congregation into the world of the narrative. Help them visualize what the Bible is describing, and draw analogies with their own experience. That's easier when preaching from biblical narratives, but the Bible is also chock-full of metaphors. It's good for a preacher to develop the metaphors. Draw a picture in the mind's eye of the congregation. Expand the metaphor into an extended theological parable. 

If a preacher stays in the text, and draws the congregation into the text, he's less likely to think about how he's coming across. He's not thinking about himself and the image he's projecting. Rather, he's projecting the world of the text. 

Dr Peter Atkins & Dr Jonathan McLatchie | Is there a God?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vR5s0QnI0TU&app=desktop

Monday, January 20, 2020

Trump trial

My off-the-cuff impressions of the legal case against Trump. My attention to this issue has been cursory. I'm not a lawyer, so I can't speak with authority on the legal issues. Even if I was a lawyer, that wouldn't automatically qualify me to opine, since the law is specialized, with many different branches.

As a practical matter it takes a supermajority vote (2/3) to convict a president in a Senate trial. I don't think that's in the cards. This is just an attempt to damage Trump politically. 

1. One allegation against Trump is that he should be removed from office because his phone call involved a quid pro quo. By itself, I don't take that seriously. Horse-trading is routine in international relations. You use threats or bargaining chips for leverage. I'll do you a favor if you do me a favor. That's the incentive. That's how it works. So unless I'm missing something, I don't think that general allegation has any merit.

2. A more specific allegation is that Trump broke the law by withholding, or threatening, to withhold foreign aid. One problem with that allegation is that we've evolved a system in which a standard way to test the Constitutionality of a law is for the president to break the law, excuse that on the grounds that the law abridges his Constitutional prerogatives, then leave it to the courts to adjudicate the issue. The courts may conclude that he broke the law, but it was an unconstitutional law, so they strike down the law.

I don't know if that's the system our framers intended, but that's how it developed. It creates a legal paradox in which presidential or Executive lawbreaking isn't an extralegal action but part of the standard appellate system to challenge the Constitutionality of certain laws. I don't think that's a good process, but it's a bipartisan tradition. So that by itself doesn't strike me as a serious allegation. And that's assuming Trump broke the law, which is a disputed. 

3. The nub of the issue seems to be official abuse of power. Trump misusing his presidential power to handicap a political rival. Trump attacking a presidential rival through his son. That does have the classic appearance or reality of abuse of power. And I do find that somewhat disturbing.

However, even if that's the case, and that's what it looks like, there are mitigating factors. It's not as if Trump tried to frame Joe Biden or Hunter Biden for a crime they didn't commit. In fact, the Biden clan seems to have a history of nepotism where they exploit Joe's political connections:


And Joe allows them to do that. It's become a family business.

So this seems to  be an illegitimately-motived legitimate investigation. It may well be an abuse of power with respect to what induces Trump to pursue it, where he's taking advantage of his position to hamstring a political rival, but on the other hand, Biden created that vulnerability by using his political connections as a cash cow for relatives. 

Hence, while I find Trump's actions mildly alarming in that regard, I don't find them over-troubling given the extenuating circumstances. He seems to be doing the right thing for the wrong reason. The Biden clan has made itself a legitimate target, even if that dovetails with Trump's political self-interest. It's very convenient for Trump, but Biden made it convenient through a pattern of influence-pedaling that gave Trump an opening–and Trump took it. The Biden clan is getting overdue scrutiny. They had it coming. Trump is a ruthless opponent. The Democrats deserve him. 

In fairness, there are allegations of nepotism in the Trump clan, as well as allegations that his business interests are intertwined with his foreign policy. I don't have a problem with applying a uniform standard. 

4. Finally, this is trivialized by the threat which the Democrat party poses to civil liberties, parental rights, innocent children, and so forth. Right now there's a larger war we need to right and win. 

What is the authorship of sin?

This is not a complete answer to the author of sin charge, simply because the author of sin objection is not one objection at all but a family of objections. It has as many different versions as there are objectionable relations to sin that the traditional view might be thought to entail God bears. It might be argued that the traditional view entails that God is the cause of sin, or that God intends sin, or that God desires that sin occur, or that God fails to love the damned. Each of these charges must be treated individually (for a variety of responses, see the collected essays in Alexander and Johnson 2016). Here it may suffice to point out that with respect to each individual charge it is not obvious both that theological determinism entails that God bears the property and that God’s bearing the property would be incompatible with divine perfection. For instance, as the above author-storyteller model makes clear, theological determinism does not entail that God causes evil in the same way that created agents cause evil, and if the traditional privation theory of evil is true, then theological determinism does not entail that God causes evil at all. Nor it is clear that, on the correct view of creation, theological determinism entails that God intends any evil at all; perhaps God selects the possible world he wishes to create all at once, so to speak, intending only the good aspects of creation and merely foreseeing (as an unintended side effect) all the evil that is caught up with it (White 2016). God may even love the damned and decide to decree their damnation, if there is a sufficiently great good that cannot be brought about without it; a general may, consistent with perfect love, order his son (a captain in his army, whom he loves) to a certain death in defense of a city in order to prevent the greater tragedy of the city’s sacking (Johnson 2016). The question is whether there is such a great good; and this is the ordinary, axiological problem of evil.

Sunday, January 19, 2020

Barebacking politics

https://pjmedia.com/election/michael-gersons-love-affair-with-buttigieg-is-all-smoke-and-mirrors/

Enfield Miscellany (Part 3)

(For an explanation of what this series is about, see part 1 here. You can read part 2 here. I'll be referencing Maurice Grosse and Guy Playfair's Enfield tapes. I'll use "MG" to refer to a tape from Grosse's collection and "GP" to refer to one from Playfair's. So, MG65B refers to tape 65B in Grosse's collection, and GP4A refers to 4A in Playfair's.)

Why The Family Didn't Move

In the opening paragraph of a post a few years ago, I explained some of the reasons why the Hodgsons didn't move from their house after they noticed paranormal events occurring. One of the reasons I mention there is that poltergeists center around people, not locations, so that moving would just relocate the poltergeist rather than getting rid of it. The family had some experience of the poltergeist following them outside the house soon after the events of August 31, 1977. And if an apparition Margaret saw in connection with using a Ouija board in 1974 in a location outside the house was the first event of the case, then that first event occurred outside the house. There's further information on Grosse and Playfair's tapes about this issue of the potential for the poltergeist to follow the family to another location. Grosse explains that he told the family on the day he began investigating the case (September 5, 1977) that poltergeists usually follow people around (MG2A, 24:41). More significantly, he says elsewhere that a member of the local government who happened to be knowledgeable of poltergeists told the family the same thing (MG1A, 3:00). Peggy Hodgson probably had that man in mind when she said in a 1980 interview that they didn't move from the house because somebody told them the poltergeist would follow them (GP43A, 1:49). It seems that this government official had that discussion with the Hodgsons sometime between when they first noticed phenomena in their house (the night of August 31) and when Grosse arrived (the afternoon of September 5). Judging by what Peggy Nottingham said here, there's a good chance that the discussion with that government official took place on September 1. So, the family initially did leave the house (to go to the Nottinghams) and were told shortly afterward about the potential for the poltergeist to follow them if they moved. Their staying in the house makes a lot of sense, then, not only for the reason just mentioned, but also for the others mentioned in my previous post linked above.

God's absence

1. I'm going to revisit the divine hiddenness argument. The basic idea is that many or most people don't experience God in the way they need, want, or expect. The argument operates on roughly two fronts. A typical presupposition of freewill theism is God's desires that every human being enjoy fellowship with God. Trust him. God wants everyone to be saved. 

But many human beings don't believe in God because they haven't had what they take to be a recognizable experience of God. It could be argued that there are many ways to experience God indirectly, which they fail to register, but the point is that from their viewpoint, if God exists, they should be able to experience him in a more personal, targeted fashion. They just don't recognize God at work in their lives. 

And this is a problem for freewill theism since, on the face of it, it would be easy for God to give them a recognizable experience of himself. So what's the explanation? 

One explanation is that it seems like God isn't there because, as a mater of fact, God isn't there.. Sppearance matches reality. We inhabit a godless universe. It isn't that God absents himself from people's lives, but that there is no God to experience. No one is home. You can keep knocking on the door, but the house is empty. 

Of course, a basic problem with that explanation is the abundance of evidence for God's existence. Indeed, that's one of the aggravating dimensions of the problem. Since there is so much evidence, not just for God's existence generally, but his activity in the lives of some people, why are others bereft?

Another explanation is to deny the universality of the freewill theist assumption. Maybe God doesn't reach out to every human being. Maybe it's not his desire every human being be in fellowship with himself. 

A freewill theist can also postulate postmortem evangelism, where God compensates for his absence in this life in the afterlife. Other issues aside, that has an ad hoc quality.

2. One complication is that many unbelievers say they aren't seeking God. They hate the very idea of God. They prefer a godless universe. If they though God did exist, that would put them in a state of psychological tension. 

3. There is, though, another comparatively neglected front to the issue. The problem is not God's unavailability to humans in general, unbelievers included, but God's unavailability to his own people: Christians and Jews. This is a common refrain or common complaint in the Prophets and Psalmists. So often, God is not available to us when we most need him or want his intervention.

4. That in itself requires some unpacking. In what ways to we need or want God to be available?

i) A cliche example is answer to prayer.

ii) Another cliche example is a sign from God. Not so much that we want God to solve a problem but we just want an indication that he's there, that he's still there. A confirmation that he's real. That he's there, he's aware, and he cares. That we're not totally alone. On our own in the world.

Could be very simple. An audible voice. Or a modest but unmistakable sign. 

iii) Apropos (ii), which may be the same thing or something similar, a hunger for God's "presence" or his "loving" presence in particular. What that means isn't entirely clear. It can be different from a sign. A sign is external to us. It may refer to a feeling: to be suffused with a sense of God's love.

Again, on this view, is God's felt presence in itself an experience of his love, or is the sense of divine love something over and above his felt presence?

5. This, though, goes to the larger question of how we'd like God to be available to us. How often do we feel the need to be in touch with God? Is this mainly in a crisis, or something routine?

Take Adam and Eve in the Garden, before the Fall. Did they feel they were missing something unless the Angel of the Lord appeared to them every day or every week? How long could they go without a divine visitation but be happy and content with each other, the garden, and their children to be?

6. To take a human comparison, consider a young couple riding on the crest of passion. They spend all their free time together. They can't get enough of each other. Yet that's not indefinitely sustainable. It loses its freshness.

Even people who are extremely close to each other can get on each other's nerves, or get bored with each other's constant company. Even people who are extremely close may need to have some time to themselves. They get tired of being together every minute of the day. They have to take a break. Have some time and space apart.

7. On a related note, an extended separation can intensify reunion. An extended separation can revitalize love.

8. Or you might have two brothers who were inseparable until they got married and had kids. After that, not only do they see less of each other, but the need for their mutual companionship diminishes because they now have compensatory relationships. The wife and kids provide a different kind of emotional sustenance. 

To some extent the brothers may even grow apart emotionally, not in the sense that they cease to love each other, but they're now invested in their own family. That develops a potential which was unrealized prior to marriage and kids.

If, say, the wives and kids were all killed in a traffic accident, the brothers might revert. Resume living together as bachelors. Become inseparable again. 

9. In what sense has God created us to need him emotionally? Do we naturally need to have God speak to us or appear to us every so often? Of is this mostly driven by the vicissitudes of life in a fallen world? 

Does God normally supply our emotional needs indirectly through creation? Through other people and natural blessings?

10. Of course, one problem is that in a fallen world we can't necessarily turn to each other for emotional compensations because sin puts a strain on our relationships. It makes our relationships a source of pain. Rather than filling the void of God's absence, it's another way to be hurt. 

11. I was a free range child. I used to go for long walks on my own, sometimes with my dog. It was a forested area with woods, ponds, streams, ravines, and lakes. A lot to explore.

I didn't need my parents to be available for me in the sense of having them around all the time. Rather, I needed to know that I had them to come back to. I had a home. I had security. It was (fairly) safe to explore the woods on my own. And if they weren't home when I got back, there was the confidence in knowing that they would return. Either I was waiting for them or they were waiting for me. There was no anxiety on my part.

12. There is something exhilarating about a divine Incarnation. That you're talking face-to-face with God. Looking into the eyes of God. At the same time, it might make you acutely self-conscious to be in God's presence, in such a palpable, immediate way. 

To take a comparison, boys are very uninhibited around other boys. Would it be inhibiting to be with Jesus? 

13. Because God is rarely available in ways we long for, it forces Christians to seek each other out and try to encourage one other in our joint pilgrimage. There's a bonding experience that occurs in situations of shared trust, stress, risk, vulnerability, or collaboration. There's a certain paradox when friends or Christians pool their collective helplessness. They cant do for each other what only God can do, but it can still be a maturing and sanctifying experience. 

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Dark planet

Schellenberg is a leading atheist philosopher, famous for his overrated argument from divine hiddenness. Here he gives an autobiographical backgrounder: 

I grew up in a deeply religious household on the prairie of Manitoba, Canada's "keystone" province (so we self-importantly told each other in school), with a father who, when I was a child, sang me to sleep with songs about Jesus he himself had written. We lived far from any town and were very poor; my dad, though in some ways a startlingly creative individual, suffered from a variety of complexly interwoven physical and mental troubles that undermined his every worldly endeavor. It was left to my mother, a salt of the earth type and my father's opposite, to help us hold body and soul together–and also to my siblings, much older than I, who one by one left home and through ingenuity and grit made a better way in the world, and then supported Mom and Dad and me with the fruits of their labors.

Alone on the prairie with my parents, feeling a loyalty to them and to their God, stirred by what I took to be God's presence in the whirling wind and sky and my inmost thoughts, atheism was unthinkable (I don't believe I even knew the word). I wrote my own songs about Jesus. In three years of Bible and musical training after high school I also sang them (I come from a family of singers). During one year as associate pastor of a Mennonite Church in Alberta I preached the Word as diligently and fervently as anyone. It was only after all this–after I too left home, both literally and metaphorically, discovering all the books about the deeper things of life from which I had been cuff off, that religious questions began to arise in me.

They arose quite quickly, as I recall, and although there was considerable pain in letting go of childhood beliefs and experiences at odds with the new insights generated by biblical criticism and philosophical argumentation, and although my loyalties did not shift swiftly, there was also a sheer exhilaration at the ideas I found. It was as though they had always been waiting for me, or I for them. And even after the shift occurred, there was still a felt continuity with my previous self, who so earnestly and naively proclaimed to others the "truth" about God. For although I had lost a passel of beliefs, I was still committed to the truth in my newfound vocation as a philosopher. Indeed, an unrelenting and scrupulous pursuit of truth and understanding–a fierce and unwavering desire to know the truth, whatever it might be–was something I now set before myself as worthy of cultivation much more consciously and earnestly than I had ever done before.

One of the ideas that intrigued me in my early days as a nonbeliever (I was not yet a disbeliever), even as it deepened my doubt and thus simultaneously troubled me, was the germ of the hiddenness reasoning I mentioned in the previous chapter in connection with the notion of religious ambiguity. 

Considering the arguments for an against God's existence and evaluating the intellectual worth of my religious experiences, I at first found myself with just the sense conveyed in the writings of Hick and Penelhum: that the world was somehow religiously ambiguous, equally open to theistic and non-theistic interpretations. 

Let me say a bit more about the "naturalness" of nonbelief in many parts of our culture, which is of central importance here. For people who spend all their time in the bosom of a deeply religious community, say, your typical small town with ten churches in the American Midwest or the Manitoba prairie, religious nonbelief may seem to be deeply unnatural. They and almost everyone they talk to–in the hall, on the street, in the post office, in restaurants–takes the existence of God for granted much as people take for granted that the grass is green and that the sun rises in the east. Their life, in this respect, is similar to that of people in Europe 800 years ago, who lived in a time when pretty much every department of living was saturated with the assumption of God's existence. And yet even their lives are profoundly different from the lives of the medievals in ways that have the fingerprints of secularity all over them. J. L. Schellenberg The Hiddenness Argument: Philosophy's New Challenge to Belief in God (Oxford 2015), 35-37, 83.

The bones of Jesus

1. Christians are sometimes asked if they'd cease to be Christian in case the bones of Jesus were excavated in a Jerusalem cemetery. Of course, that's not a realistic prospect. For one thing, we don't have an independent DNA sample of Jesus to ID the bones. But the hypothetical isn't meant to be realistic.

2. There are different ways to answer the question, depending on what the question is after. One function of the question is to test whether Christian faith is based on historical facts. Does the Christian faith require that certain things happened in real space and time? Or is it theological fiction–like Perelandra?

To be true, indeed, to be anything in particular, Christianity must stand for some things. It can't be consistent with everything. If Christianity is true, that entails the falsity of claims to the contrary. 

And this isn't just about ideas. We have a stake in whether it's true. There's an enormous lot riding on Christianity. 

3. However, the question can have a more sinister motivation, to find or create a crack in a Christian's faith, then widen the crack. But we have to be careful about how seriously we take some hypothetical or counterfactual scenarios. The way they generally work is to change one key variable but leave everything else in place. Yet that's artificial.

If we're going to toy with hypothetical defeaters for Christianity, we could turn that around. A 2000-year-old tomb containing the bones of Jesus represents an alternate history scenario. But if we're talking about alternate history, then in that same alternate history, maybe Paul wrote something different in 1 Corinthians 15. In that alternate history, perhaps the physical resurrection of Jesus is inessential to the Christian faith. Perhaps the immortality of the soul will suffice.

The point, then, is that if an atheist uses this tactic to find or create a crack in a Christian's faith, two can play that game. A Christian doesn't have to submit to a hypothetical scenario that changes one key variable but leaves everything else intact. If it's counterfactual in one respect, why not another? If the hypothetical, as posed by the atheist, is inconsistent with Christianity, a Christian can adjust the hypothetical to make it consistent by changing another key variable. 

My point is that Christians shouldn't allow themselves to be intimidated or cornered by arbitrary hypothetical challenges. Don't mix two divergent timelines–where Paul says in one timeline our faith is in vain unless Jesus was raised, but in an alternate timeline his bones are still in the tomb, then combine them. That's cheating. 

Why I didn't become Orthodox

https://arturovasquez.wordpress.com/2020/01/18/why-i-didnt-become-orthodox/

My gang is Jesus

https://harpers.org/archive/2020/02/my-gang-is-jesus-brazilian-evangelicals/

Did Jesus speak Greek?

https://www.wesleyhuff.com/blog/2019/12/16/did-jesus-speak-greek

Chasing a mirage

The word [hebel] normally refers to warm air, briefly visible as water molecules contained in it condense when it cools. A larger body of warm air, such as mist, can remain visible for a longer time. It is a visual metaphor. Mist appears to be more substantial than it is (ephemerality), soon disappears (transience) and hides objects behind it, obscuring reality from view (illusoriness). All of these aspects of mist are especially prominent in the metaphorical use of the word hebel: its usage to describe the optical phenomenon of "mirages". The New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary defines mirages as "an optical illusion caused by atmospheric conditions through the refraction of light in hot air", giving the following example: "the false appearance of a distant sheet of water in a desert". Figuratively, the word "mirage" can also mean "an illusion, a fantasy". The majority of the occurrences of the word hebel in the OT carry the meaning of "mirage", referring either to an optical illusion or to an illusion in general. In Ecclesiastes, all occurrences of the word hebel refer to an illusion. Knut Martin Heim, Ecclesiastes: An Introduction and Commentary (IVP 2019), Introduction, §5. 

As a native of the Middle East, the narrator and his audience would be familiar with mirages. This doesn't mean the narrator regards the world as illusory, like Eastern philosophy. But a mirage has a twofold effect; on the one hand an observer can't see the reality beyond the mirage. He can't see around or through the mirage. Although there's an objective reality on the other side of the mirage, the optics block the view so that an observer can't see what lies behind it. On the other hand, what the observer does see is unreal. The mirage is an optical illusion. So what can be seen is unreal while what is real can't be seen. That's the paradox. 

Assuming the narrator is exploiting the full connotations of the metaphor, our experience of the world is illusory in some degree. Things are not always as they seem. Appearances are deceptive. What we perceive is superficial and sometimes misleading. But it remains enigmatic because we're in no position to compare it to the underlying reality. An attentive observer like the narrator will discern that something is off, something doesn't make sense, but he lacks the God's-eye viewpoint to discern the correct explanation. There's a larger reality over and above sublunary events, but providence can be baffling. Everything happens according to a master plan, but it remains largely hidden from human view. Only divine revelation can dispel the mirage. Enough of the plan surfaces from time to time to disclose a plan, but too much stays out of sight to figure out the whole or the goal.  

The outlook of Ecclesiastes reflects the narrator's historical position in progressive revelation. I still think Solomon is the best candidate for authorship (a position recently defended by John Currid in his commentary). Christians know more about God's plan than OT sages like Solomon. But it's a matter of degree. Even for Christians, the way we experience the world is still filtered through a mirage. We can't remove the screen. We must use the map of Scripture rather than our own eyesight and insight to find our way through the desert to the eternal oasis. Unbelievers chase the illusory oasis until they die of thirst, lost in the labyrinth of the sand dunes. 

Friday, January 17, 2020

Living in the Bible

When we read the Bible, should we be able to find ourselves in the Bible? To use literary categories, there can be archetypal characters, archetypal plots, and and archetypical places. 

1. Characters

There are figures whose experience may parallel your own in certain respects. For instance, the hope, longing, elation, aggravation, depression, and despair of the Psalmists and Prophets. 

2. Plot

Likewise, there's the plot. The lifecycle is the elemental perennial human plot. Birth, childhood, coming of age, adulthood, parenthood (repeating the lifecycle), aging, death. 

Scripture picks up on this but deepens and extends it. We are born in this world, but on a journey through this world on the way out of this world. Although we live and die in this world, death is not the end. And ultimately, the saints will return to this world, a renewed world. 

3. Setting

This in turn shades into the setting or landscape of Scripture. Although biblical events happen in real time and space, there's an emblematic quality to certain localities in Scripture which readers have always sensed. In that respect, the landscape of Scripture can move on an allegorical plane for some readers. Where the lifecycle and the individual Christian pilgrimage is is overlaid on the symbolic setting of Bible history. 

We're born in exile. Some of us are on a quest to return to our ancestral home (Eden, heaven). With various obstacles in the way. But others are on a journey to hell. 

Consider some archetypal places in Scripture:

• Garden/river 

• Banishment/exile (e.g. expulsion from Eden; expulsion from Promised Land/Babylonian Exile)

• Captivity (Egypt; Babylon)

• Nomadism (Patriarchal narratives)

• Urbanism (Sodom, Jerusalem)

• Desert (Sinai)

• Promised Land 

• Lost

These have different symbolic connotations. And they can have parallels with our own lives at different times.

We aren't born in Eden, but some people have a fairly Edenic childhood. Yet they may suffer a dramatic downturn in their fortunes. 

The nomadism of the Patriarchs isn't the same thing as exile. It's a rootless existence, but it has freedom. And since they take their family with them, it's not lonely. There's an insecurity and lack of direction to it, but it's not inherently unpleasant.

Also, it can be cyclical, where wayfarers move back and forth within a certain range. Often seasonal. So it's not wide open. It has boundaries. 

The alternative to banishment is escape. The Israelites were delivered from bondage. The Babylonian exiles were released and repatriated, although some chose to stay behind. They had become assimilated. 

This stands in contrast to settling down. Having a particular place to call home. But cities have complex connotations. The new Jerusalem is utopian while Sodom, Gomorrah, and Babylon are dystopian. 

Cities can be psychologically claustrophobic. And ironically, many people feel lonely and alienated in cities, due to the anonymity and indifference to individuals. 

In the case of exile, you're not where you want to be. You feel shut out and cut off. It never feels like home. There's always the sense of being out of place. Not belonging. 

If the promised land is a homeland, the desert is a no man's land. Hellish. 

Our lives can parallel different kinds of archetypal space at different times of life, depending on our circumstances, where we live, and our psychological situation. 

This also plays on the sense of being lost (and alone) in the world. Lost in the crowd. So many who came before us. So many who come after us. Groping for meaning or going with the flow. 

Can we find our way out of the woods? Is the way forward or back? Do we know what we're looking for? Where is home? What is home? 

Suppose you're hopelessly lost, so you must rescued. That's the lost and found motif. You were found. 

Kinda like if you were abducted in your sleep. You wake up in the middle of nowhere. How do you get back? How do you retrace your steps?

Or take a war-torn area. A soldier leaves home to fight. When he returns, the village is burned to the ground. There is no home to go back to. That's gone. He can't go back to the life he had. 

Symbolic space and symbolic time pan into each other because both may symbolize a journey. Travel through time and space.  

A river is dynamic. That's emblematic of a journey downstream, to empty into the ocean (perhaps).

But even a dry canyon can symbolize a journey. Although it's static space, it has a trail in two directions. 

Our lives have a plot that in some respects will parallel the overarching plot of Scripture or the subplots of individual characters. Likewise, we live in places that may parallel emblematic places in Scripture. These all resonate at an allegorical or analogical level. Sometimes your life may feel rootless, sometimes exilic. Sometimes you may feel trapped. Sometimes you may feel lost. You can locate yourself in Scripture using the the landscape of Scripture as a symbolic map of the soul. 

Controversies in Jesus studies

https://www.premierchristianradio.com/Shows/Saturday/Unbelievable/Episodes/Unbelievable-Controversies-in-Jesus-studies-John-Dickson-Lydia-McGrew-and-Jonathan-McLatchie

Oral and memorial tradition

And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read (Lk 4:16).

After the reading from the Law and the Prophets, the rulers of the synagogue sent a message to them, saying, “Brothers, if you have any word of encouragement for the people, say it” (Acts 13:15).

For from ancient generations Moses has had in every city those who proclaim him, for he is read every Sabbath in the synagogues” (Acts 15:21).

And when this letter has been read among you, have it also read in the church of the Laodiceans; and see that you also read the letter from Laodicea (Col 4:16).

Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written in it, for the time is near (Rev 1:3).

1. A stock objection to sola scriptura is that most early Christians didn't have the NT. It supposedly took centuries for the NT to be canonized. Even then, literacy and distribution were limited. So Christianity can't be a bookish religion. It had to rely on oral tradition. 

2. One problem with that objection is that it either proves too much or to little. Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy are bookish religions. They have a textual orientation in the church fathers, as well as creeds and canons of ecumenical councils (not to mention papal encyclicals). Knowledge of Catholic and Orthodox theology has a textual basis. 

3. There's a difference between the formal canonization of the NT and how it circulated. We know from early NT MSS that NT books circulated in collections, like the Gospels or Pauline epistles. Scribes copied subsets of the NT. So the NT books were already grouped and distributed prior to formal canonization. It's not an all-or-nothing proposition.

4. There's a fundamental distinction between information that has its origin in an oral source and the oral transmission of information. Suppose I'm a 1C Jew living in Jerusalem. My teenage son tags along the crowds that follow Jesus as he travels the countryside. My son witnesses Jesus multiply fish and bread. He tells me what he saw. That's word-of-mouth from the get-go. 

5. Compare that to my hearing the OT read aloud in synagogue every week. That involves oral transmission of a written text. The source of information isn't oral but written. As a regular attendant at synagogue, my knowledge of the OT isn't based on oral tradition but memorial tradition. My recollection of the lector reading the text. Due to repetition, I remember the gist of the OT. 

The public reading of the Scripture, a Jewish tradition that carried over into the church, gave Christians who might be illiterate or lack private copies of the Bible, regular exposure to the text of Scripture. That's not oral tradition but memorial tradition. Not something that originates in word-of-mouth transmission but hearing and remembering a text. 

6. And the text is fixed in a way that word-of-mouth is not. Everyone hears the same text. A common frame of reference. Not a paraphrase of what someone recalls. Now, when we remember a text, we may paraphrase it in our mind, but the text itself is not a paraphrase of what someone remembered (or misremembered). 

7. Some Catholic apologists defend oral tradition on the grounds that it was good enough for the Patriarchs. But that's a very careless comparison. The terms of the Abraham covenant are terse. That's easy to remember and pass on by word-of-mouth. If hardly follows that if the Abrahamic covenant can be transmitted by oral tradition, then the content of Matthew's Gospel or Luke's Gospel or Romans can be transmitted by oral tradition. 

It's possible to memorize the Gospels, but you have to have the script to memorize. You commit the text to memory. 

8. In addition, access to the text enables someone to refresh their recollection. If you don't read or hear the text on a regular basis, it's easier to misremember what it says and there's no way to correct your faulty memory. 

9. Critics of sola scriptura fail to appreciate the nature and necessity of a standard. Sola scripture doesn't mean it's necessary for every Christian to have regular access to the Bible. Up to a point, memory is adequate. But it is necessary that the source and standard be available to the church. 

I have a clock by my bed, with an illuminated readout. The only time I set my clock is after a power outage. It's possible that my clock runs a little fast or slow, yet it's adequate for my ordinary needs. But when the power goes out, I need to know what time it is. Indeed, I need the exact time to reset my clock. 

I don't need to check the official time every day or every week, but it is essential to have an official standard, and access to the source, to refer to on some occasions to check the accuracy of my clock. 

10. There are situations where we need to know what Jesus actually said and did. Not just my recollection. 

11. To take a comparison, some Christians have a scholarly knowledge of the Greek and Hebrew text of Scripture. Most Christians can get along with translations. But it's necessary that the original be available to back up the translations. The necessity of the standard doesn't demand universal access to the standard. But some Christians have to be in a position to go back and doublecheck a translation or interpretation against the source. 

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Seed dispersal

I'd like to make a brief observation about the "thousands" of Protestant denominations. According to Catholic apologists, that's a defeater for the Protestant faith.

As we know, Jesus often uses agriculture metaphors for the growth of God's kingdom. Consider different natural strategies for seed dispersal. Because plants are immobile, some of them reproduce through mobile seed. For instance, dandelion puffs and maple leaves (samaras) are designed to exploit wind dispersal. 

Now, which is better–one immobile tree or thousands of wind-blown seeds? A single tree is vulnerable in a way that thousands of seeds and saplings are not. A single tree can die from lightning, wildfire, drought, infestation, &c. But nature uses the principle of redundancy. 

Why not view the "thousands" of Protestant denominations as divine anemochory? God's samaras or dandelion puffs? These aren't schisms but saplings. God disseminates the church, not through a single denomination, but by anemochory. 

Retroengineering the development of doctrine

Catholic apologists like to retroengineer the development of doctrine. With the benefit of hindsight, they retrace later positions and policies back to seminal ideas in the church fathers. 

Sometimes that's legitimate, but it an easily be an illusion. That's because it's often possible for the same ideas to branch out in divergent directions. So it's unpredictable. In themselves, the same ideas may have no orientation to a particular line of evolution. 

To take a comparison, consider the character of Batman, Superman, or Dracula. In later creative hands, these are open to a wide range of alternative developments that could not be foreseen or intended by the creators of the character. 

If you know how an idea began, and you stand at a certain point down the line, it may seem more inevitable that it was going to unfold that way. But suppose you didn't know how the character of Batman or Superman or Dracula originated. If all you had to go by were their current permutations, how successful would you be at recovering the Ur-character, with his original history?