Responses to "Godless" by Dan Barker

I've been reading a book that I doubt many Christians have read. That book is Godless, by Dan Barker, co-president of the Freedom from Religion Foundation.

I first heard of Dan Barker in college (my sophomore year, I think) when Cru and CASH (Campus Atheists, Skeptics, and Humanists) co-hosted a debate between him and Christian apologist Dinesh D'Souza. At the time, the very existence of people like Barker who went from being believers "just like me" to staunch atheists genuinely frightened me. Copies of this book were on sale after the debate, but I stayed well away. I think it's an indicator of growth that I've now not only bought bought the book but find it fascinating, if challenging and troubling. Unlike most of the books I post about, I wouldn't recommend it to every Christian.

Barker divides the book into four sections: his personal "testimony" of de-conversion, his reasons for not believing in God and refutations of lots of apologetic arguments, his arguments against Christianity, and his life as part of the "new atheism" movement. It's a tough read because there are nuggets of truth that Christians need to hear in the midst of seas of statements and arguments I disagree with. I've learned a lot from reading it, though (as is often the case) not what the author was trying to teach.

I mostly bought the book for the first part, which takes up surprisingly little of its length. I was interested in the similarities and differences (for clearly there had to be some) between "deconversion stories" and my own struggles with doubt. Clearly our stories had to diverge at some point, but where?

Early Life

In the first part, it soon became clear that Dan Barker as a Christian, was never "just like me". He grew up in a highly charismatic, fundamentalist branch of evangelicalism that focused on spiritual experiences and gifts and believed that since Jesus was coming back in the next decade or two, now was the time not to make any preparations for the future but to win souls. He decided to start preaching at the age of 15--because "I didn't think the world would last long enough for me to go to college or get married or raise a family". Trusting in God to come through despite his youth and lack of experience, he would go on frequent soul-winning expeditions in southern California and Mexico, trying to convert the unchurched and Catholics, bringing the Truth to poor, lost souls. He used his talent for music in church, revivals, and faith healing sessions, as well as writing Christian songs and musicals. He was "the kind of guy you would not want to sit next to on a bus."

Eventually he did get married and, rather than settle down and focus on providing for his family, stayed on the road, working with her as "musical evangelists" from church to church while supplementing their living writing and producing Christian music. He describes one particular incident that summed up his "life by faith". While driving he heard a voice saying "turn right". So he turned right, into some farmland. He kept following these directions by faith, excited to see what God had in store for him at the end, until he arrived at a dead end in a cornfield. When nothing came of this, he realized God had merely been testing his faithfulness and obedience!

Deconversion

Barker is clear that his apostasy was a gradual process; he didn't suddenly realize that God didn't exist. He seems to view fundamentalism at one end of a spectrum that he gradually slid down via a series of concessions, through moderate and liberal Christianity to agnosticism and atheism. The first step came when he decided to maintain fellowship with some Christians who didn't believe Adam and Eve were historical people, despite thinking they were "lukewarm" (Revelation 3:15-16) in their liberal beliefs. For the first time, at around 30 years old, he started asking questions (not having doubts) about Christianity, feeding an intellectual hunger he'd been ignoring for years in his fundamentalism and evangelizing. He started reading philosophy, science publications, psychology, and the newspaper(!), seeking an intellectual dimension to his faith that had been missing. At each little step, he thought his faith was being strengthened or maturing, "when it was actually my knowledge that was being strengthened." This perception is troublingly like what I've been doing lately. (I don't consider this ominous, but it raises the question of whether my story is just his at an intermediate stage)

He also began studying what Christians of other traditions and denominations believed and realized that  "there is no single Christianity--there are thousands of Christianities", each with their own, "correct" theology and interpretation of the Bible. This denominational pluralism clashed with how he knew that "God is not the author of confusion" (1 Corinthians 14:33). How could they all be right? To me, this seems like the result of a very simplistic view on hermeneutics that views the Bible as existing primarily to define a single, precise body of doctrine--if this precision and univocality are absent, as they seem to be, then clearly the Bible and (God, its heavenly author) has failed at its purpose.

Anyway, Barker began to swing across the theological spectrum from fundamentalism to liberal theology. One day, while driving and arguing with God and himself about emotion and reason, he had one thought that seemed to come from the voice of honesty, not God: "Something is wrong. Admit it." It was then that he committed to "follow reason and evidence wherever they might lead, even if it meant taking me away from my cherished beliefs".

He started thinking of different denominations as being distinguished by where they drew the line between essential and nonessential doctrines. He was drawing this line higher and higher, "discarding many lesser doctrines as either nonessential or untrue." (I'm not sure how considering a doctrine nonessential equates to discarding it) He came to respect the more liberal theologians he was reading rather than seeing them as evil heretics, even while not agreeing with them fully.

He began questioning not just his beliefs, but his inner spiritual experiences. Interestingly, he claims to be able to duplicate those feelings and experiences today, which of course raised doubts as to their authenticity. If so many people of other faiths could be wrong about these experiences, why not him as well? He started having doubts that a personal God really existed at all. He describes the process of reason taking the place of faith and the Bible in his life as being like a fossil slowly turning to stone. Here his perceived dichotomy between faith and reason is clear. "Where did we get the idea that words on a page speak truth? Shouldn't truth be the result of investigation and analysis?" To look at the issue from all sides, he began reading books by non-Christian authors with "facts that discredited Christianity", which he tried to ignored because they didn't fit with his religious worldview. "Faith and reason began a war within me". He kept crying out to God for answers to these questions--just as I have done--but none came. This is one of the hardest parts of the book to read as a believer. Why me and not him? I don't think I am qualified to answer.

The only answer he saw from Christianity was "faith", which became to him like a "cop-out, a defeat--an admission that the truths of religion are unknowable through evidence and reason. It is only indemonstrable assertions that require the suspension of reason, and weak ideas that require faith." It seems like he saw faith and reason at this point as diametrically opposed, and saw an undeniable need to make a choice between them. He makes it clear that this choice was not easy--"It was like tearing my whole frame of reality to pieces, ripping to shreds the fabric of meaning and hope, betraying the values of existence. It hurt badly." All the connections and the career he had built on his faith made it harder. and choose he did. "I did not lose my faith--I gave it up purposely. ... I lost faith in faith."

In answer to my original question of how our stories differ, I think the answer starts with relationship we see between faith and reason. His search for truth seemed to be based almost from the beginning on the belief that faith (which sounds a lot like my definition of blind faith) and reason were fundamentally opposed to each other (see below). My questioning has been guided from the start by the assumption that faith and reason are inextricably linked as two ways of apprehending the same truth, and must either stand together or fall together. My experience has served to reinforce and affirm this assumption, just as it did Barker's. Am I only self-deluded in this? His conclusion that thousands of denominations meant "thousands of Christianities" is also a point of departure; he thought it meant God was divided or confused, I think it means people are divided and confused.

He expressed resentment over a lot of the responses to his apostasy that assumed that he somehow wasn't a "real Christian" or he would never have turned away. And, indeed, no one can no whether his faith was real except God and Dan Barker. But, though he does mention how hard the process was, the fact that it happened and then was over, and that the unpleasantness seemed largely due to the difficulty of completely reorienting one's worldview, seems like a clue. There isn't the kind of bottomless loss or grief I would expect from someone who really believed the gospel, the real gospel, but lost that belief. If I stopped believing Christianity, I would mourn for the rest of my life that a worldview as fundamental and wonderful turned out not to be true. The promise of building a peaceful, rational society of liberty, equality, and prosperity utterly pales in comparison to the glorious, eternal hope Christians hold to.

Atheism and Agnosticism

I'm not going to cover the whole book in that much detail. Parts 2 and 3, which take up most of its length, are persuasive, not narrative, and I'm going to be selective about what I respond to in no particular order. For a while he argues more philosophically about his reasons for atheism and against Christian apologetic arguments. One interesting  thing is the difference he draws between agnosticism and atheism, which conflates them more closely than I would. He says "agnosticism addresses knowledge; atheism addresses belief." (I would not draw so sharp a line between knowledge and belief) So, to Barker, being an agnostic means you don't know with reasonable certainty that God exists, and atheism means you don't believe he exists.

He further defines agnosticism as "the refusal to take as a fact any statement for which there is insufficient evidence"--which is much closer to my definition of skepticism. In my view, agnosticism is simply the lack of knowledge of (or belief in) something for whatever reason--the statement, "I don't know." (Which seems closer to the Greek root of agnosticism, a-, meaning "without", and gnosis, meaning "knowledge", but anyway) Atheism, then, is not knowledge or a religion but simply a lack of belief. He distinguishes between the soft, "small-a" atheism he holds and the hard, "capital-A" atheism that positively denies the existence of a God. (Of course, in all the rest of his rhetoric Barker assumes the nonexistence of God, so he doesn't seem very on-the-fence about the question)

The Burden of Proof

Anyway, this contrasts interestingly with my argument that moving either way from the purely agnostic position of claiming no knowledge about the existence or nonexistence of God requires a reason (the "burden of proof"), and I know of no reasons to move towards belief in the nonexistence of God. He would say that everyone agrees without argument that the natural universe exists, but that anything beyond this is not obvious and needs to be proven. "We should start with nature. We should start with the nonexistence of God and then the believer should argue for God's existence, not demands that atheists argue against it. The burden of proof in any argument is on the shoulders of the one who makes the affirmative claim, not the one who doubts it." This is a clever, almost undetectable bit of philosophical sleight-of-hand. Barker conflates the agnostic, "I don't know whether God exists or not" view with the negative, "I don't know that God exists, so prove it" view. Since the existence of God and the supernatural are not obvious, the reasoning goes, we should assume they don't exist and work from there. While claiming to be correcting Christians who were misusing the "burden of proof" argument, Barker misuses it himself.

Cosmological "Kalamity"

The Kalām cosmological argument for the existence of God is the reason I know I will never be an atheist (at worst, a deist), so I was interested enough to see what Barker had to say about it than I read ahead to that chapter. I can't say I was disappointed that his argument against it wasn't very convincing. The basic thrust of the argument can be summed up with the question, "Where did the universe come from?" In more logical terms, as apologist and philosopher William Lane Craig puts it:

1. Everything that begins to exist had a cause.
2. The universe began to exist.
3. Therefore, the universe had a cause.

Barker argues that Kalam begs the question (presupposes the existence of God) with some set-theoretical smoke and mirrors. He says it implies that the first step of the argument assumes that reality can be divided into two sets: things than began to exist (BE), and an implied set of things that didn't. (NBE) For the argument to work, he says, NBE must not be empty and must accommodate (conceivable contain) more than one item (God). If NBE only accommodates God, it is effectively synonymous with God and so Kalam implicitly begs the question, assuming that God exists in its formulation.

Notice how Barker has to transform the argument to get to this point. First, he assumes it is making a statement in set theory, even though the original, Islamic argument greatly predates set theory and the argument can just as easily be stated with propositional logic without sets.

1. If something began to exist, it had a cause.
2. The universe began to exist.
3. Therefore, the universe had a cause.

The only thing this version says about NBE is the contrapositive of the first statement: "If something did not have a cause, then it did not begin to exist." Then he begins to reason "behind the scenes" of the set theory version of Kalam and base his whole argument about a purely implicit set (NBE) that the argument itself says nothing about. It's hard for me to believe that Kalam "begs the question" if if can conceivably be transformed into a form that does so, no matter how much work it takes to get there. It's also debatable in the first version whether NBE should also include things that did not begin to exist and don't exist, like dragons, in which case it certainly accommodates things more than one item. As well, even if all his set theory logic is correct and the argument does assume an implicit set NBE that only accommodates God, it does not "beg the question" of God's existence; it only assumes the existence of a concept of a beginningless first cause (who himself may or may not exist) that is coherent enough to be reasoned about. Reasoning about God is not the same as assuming his existence. If Barker really thinks existence is a property that God has, maybe he'll be convinced by the ontological argument?

He then gets at more of the argument's premises. He argues that Kalam is self-refuting or internally inconsistent, based solely on a materialistic understanding of the cosmos and reality. "If an actual infinity cannot be a part of reality, then God, if he is actually infinite, cannot exist." If we use words like "decided" and "create" differently than how they are used to describe human actions, he says, they are meaningless and worthless. So if something is incomprehensible to us (or to Dan Barker), it is meaningless and can't be true; apparently the presence of mystery in Christianity is enough to condemn it. He argues that the impossibility of traversing an infinite amount of time also applies to God's non-temporal existence, so God had to begin to exist. He says that existing "outside of time" is impossible: "To say that God does not exist within space-time is to say that God does not exist." (How is this not begging the question of metaphysical naturalism?) None of these arguments should be convincing in the least to Christians.

Lastly, again restricting Kalam to being defined in set-theoretical terms, he says that the universe is not a "thing" and is the "set of all things", so it is not part of "everything that began to exist" and applying the first statement to it is like comparing apples and oranges. I'm really not sure why the universe must be a set and not a "thing", and I have no problems with treating it as such. As well, there are versions of the cosmological argument that only refer to objects within the universe rather than to the universe as a whole; Barker pays them no attention. Throughout the chapter, he either misses or refuses to address the real force of the question: "How did space, time, and everything begin to exist?" or simply "Why is there something rather than nothing?" and its implications.

Faith vs. Reason?

It seems that the wedge of evidence that led Barker away from faith was driven into the dichotomy he saw (and still sees) between faith and reason, or belief and knowledge. He views reason as the gaining of truth from empirical evidence and logical reasoning. Faith, then, is just the opposite, believing claims without this sufficient evidence. He claims this willingness to believe without evidence is not only foolish, but even dangerous: "Without faith, anything goes" is a phrase he repeats several times. If you believe without having sufficient evidence, the thinking goes, you can believe anything you want and no one can disprove you! "With faith, everybody is right." (This is a slippery slope fallacy)

Unfortunately, many Christians (like Barker as a Christian) also perceive this false dichotomy between faith and reason. I randomly stumbled upon a blog post that expresses it from a Christian perspective: "Truth doesn’t need credentials, it just needs to be believed."

Attacking Biblical morality

Much of the third part (arguments against Christianity) contains Barker's issues with the view of morality presented in the Bible. Bizarre rules with disportionate penalties (Numbers 15:32-36), lots of smiting (in the KJV), God-sanctioned violence, and seeming disregard for human rights--it's easy to see how a modern, skeptical reader would find these things detestable. Barker contrasts this with the humanistic view of morality, which "comes from within humanity" and "implies avoiding or minimizing harm". Later he says it is "simply acting with the intention to minimize harm". He resents the common apologetic jab leveled against atheists that without God, there is no way to hold to any system of morality. The humanistic system of morality Barker presents is simple and, I think, inernally consistent.

But I think this question still has significance. Yes, humanists like Barker are able to develop and hold a nice-sounding, coherent definition of morality. But, unless they already agree, why should anyone listen? What makes this picture of morality, centered around the value of minimizing harm to living beings, any more "right" than any other that could conceivably be proposed? Consider ancient Near East cultures, where the highest "moral" values were legitimation of the reign of the king and giving honor to the gods. What gives humanists any right to judge this morality as any better or worse than their own? Because it contradicts theirs? (But the ANE cultures could say the same thing) Could the humanistic valuing of prevention of harm above all else be just as culturally conditioned as ANE cultures' devotion to gods and king? For this reason among others, his constant comparing of the moral values seen in the Bible with humanism or common sense fall rather flat. If you claim reason has a monopoly on morality, your claim is at least as arbitrary as Christians who claim that God does. (Of course from within the humanistic worldview this questioning of ancient morality is quite justified, but the same could be said of judging humanism from a Christian perspective)

Barker also shows that he doesn't seem to understand how Christian ethics actually work. To him, Christian morality is based entirely on blind, unquestioning obedience to absolute, timeless commands issued by ultimate authority. Christian love is not authentic; it is "because God said so". He asks Christians in debates, "If God told you to kill me, would you do it?" and points to the ultimate answer of "Yes" by some of his opponents as evidence of Christianity's depravity. If God told me to kill someone, I would seriously question whether it was actually God speaking to me, or check myself into a mental hospital!

Bible Contradictions

I won't go over his chapter on Bible contradictions (most of which I was already aware of) in too much detail. It was a mixture of uncovering real tensions in the Bible (which he says immediately undermine its credibility) and blatant misreadings that are often based on the specific wording of the KJV (which he uses exclusively). e.g. Saying that John 8:14 ("Though I bear record of myself, [yet] my record is true") contradicts John 5:31 ("If I bear witness of myself, my witness is not true."), even though in 5:31 Jesus is stating an untrue hypothetical ("I" is implied to mean "I alone") and He is in fact making the same argument in both passages. These misreadings were somewhat surprising as he does demonstrate some hermeneutical ability, including Hebrew and Greek word studies, elsewhere.

Denying Christ

He also argues that Jesus probably did not actually exist, and even if He did the accounts of His resurrection are myths. (Taking the fourth option, "legend", in C.S. Lewis' "lord, liar, or lunatic" trilemma) I'm not sure Barker is aware, but Lewis actually does address this possibility in his essay, "What Are We to Make of Jesus Christ?"

What are we do to about reconciling the two contradictory phenomena [Jesus' moral teaching and claims to be God]? One attempt consists in saying that the Man did not really say these things, but that His followers exaggerated the story, and so the legend grew up that He had said them. this is difficult because His followers were all Jews; that is, they belonged to that Nation which of all others was most convinced that there was only one God--that there could not possibly be another. It is very odd that this horrible invention about a religious leader should grow up among the one people in the whole earth least likely to make such a mistake. On the contrary we get the impression that none of His immediate followers or even of the New Testament writers embraced the doctrine at all easily.

Another point is that on that view you would have to regard the accounts of the Man as being legends. Now, as a literary historian, I am perfectly convinced that whatever else the Gospels are they are not legends. I have read a great deal of legend and I am quite clear that they are not the same sort of thing. They are not artistic enough to be legends. From an imaginative point of view they are clumsy, they don’t work up to things properly. Most of the life of Jesus is totally unknown to us, as is the life of anyone else who lived at that time, and no people building up a legend would allow that to be so. Apart from bits of the Platonic dialogues, there are no conversations that I know of in ancient literature like the Fourth Gospel. There is nothing, even in modern literature, until about a hundred years ago when the realistic novel came into existence. In the story of the woman taken in adultery we are told Christ bent down and scribbled in the dust with His finger. Nothing comes of this. No one has ever based any doctrine on it. And the art of inventing little irrelevant details to make an imaginary scene more convincing is a purely modern art. Surely the only explanation of this passage is that the thing really happened? The author put it in simply because he had seen it.

Barker also argues that the existence of miracles make the gospels unhistorical; that is, because miracles have not been credibly observed, they can be assumed to be extremely rare, if nonexistent, so accounts with miracles in them are more likely to be myths or fabrications than true. "History is limited; it can only confirm events that conform to natural regularity." He quotes David Hume: "No testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle unless that testimony be of such a kind that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavors to establish." And Hume elsewhere in his essay On Miracles writes:

A miracle is a violation of the laws of nature, and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle, from the very nature of the fact, is as entire as could possibly be imagined.

I would recommend that Barker read more of Lewis, who in his book Miracles also directly addresses this argument:

Now of course we must agree with Hume that if there is absolutely "uniform experience" against miracles, if in other words they have never happened, why then they never have. Unfortunately we know the experience against them to be uniform only if we know already that miracles have never occurred. In fact, we are arguing in a circle.

He goes on to argue, in more words, that the naturalistic assumption that nature is uniform ("natural regularity") which Hume assumes cannot be known except by circular reasoning: "Experience therefore cannot prove uniformity, because uniformity has to be assumed before experience proves anything." And, "No study of probabilities inside a given frame can ever tell us how probable it is that the frame itself can be violated."

One other thing of mention is that, while going over possible naturalistic explanations for the resurrection, Barker brings up the "swoon theory". This is the theory that after the ordeal of being starved, severely flogged, crucified, and impaled by professional executioners, after lying in a tomb with no food, water, or medical attention for over 24 hours, Jesus somehow started feeling well enough to escape and convince people He had "miraculously" risen from the dead. This is absurd. Barker calls out Christians for applying "healthy" skepticism to other religions but not their own, but here shows himself to be similarly selective.

Materialistic Epistemology

Though he never explicitly explains it, I think I arrived at a decent understanding of the worldview Barker is writing from. Since all we can directly see evidence for is the natural world and evidence for the supernatural is sparse and explained more easily by naturalistic explanations, it is unjustifiable to assume that anything beyond the material world exists. Since science and reason have proven to be by far the most useful tool we have in understanding the natural world (i.e. the universe), they are the best possible yardstick by which to measure all claims of truth. Religions fails miserably at meeting the criteria for a good explanation of phenomena like being falsifiable, simple, and internally coherent, so it should be discarded. Morality should be defined in terms of measurable, even quantifiable effects, with the goal being to minimize harm to living beings like humans.

I think many "endless debates" are endless because what is always discussed is not the underlying assumptions by which the disparate positions differ, but the implications and results from reasoning by those assumptions. So with Calvinism and Arminianism, where (I have found) the real difference lies in underlying philosophies of free will, determinism, and God's sovereignty, but what it usually debated and contrasted are the five points. And so with the theism-atheism conversation. I think the deepest difference between the above way of thinking and Christianity (I won't speak for other worldviews) is one of epistemology--the study of knowledge and how we come by it.

Atheism enthrones human rationality, human senses, human understanding as the ultimate standard of truth. The only valid conclusions are those that can be based on empirical evidence that is developed via sound, tried-and-true reasoning. The body of truth and knowledge begins with our senses and expands outward from us via reason. The scope of truth is that which can, potentially, be observed or induced from evidence. Logical devices like Occam's Razor are assumed to be universally applicable and binding. The supernatural, by definition that which is not part of nature and cannot be directly sensed, can safely be assumed not to exist because we can't directly sense it. So religion, which makes claims that can't easily (or at all) be supported by evidence seems absurd.

Christianity, on the other hand, believes that the human intellect and senses are not perfect and that the nexus of truth is located outside (and is larger than) ourselves, though it is still possible to interact with it (and the natural world) via reason. The empirical-rational epistemology of atheism is not wrong, but incomplete, and the mistake is in making it the scope of what can be considered true. I'm especially confused as to how atheists can claim to know so much about what is true while believing that their "knowledge" is a series of biochemical reactions in the brain that has evolved to be able to parallel situations in the material universe. In this view, why should these chemical reactions be able to "work" when dealing in abstractions or things not directly sensed? 

Conclusions

The above was not meant as a comprehensive refutation of Godless, just as an intellectually honest response to the book as I read it and an encouragement to Christians who may be afraid of reading the views of atheists. But I am a bit nervous about including it because what I ultimately got out of this book is rather opposed to it. Which is simply this: the basis for Christianity's relationship with atheists cannot, cannot, cannot simply be debates and conversion attempts. Christian apologetical arguments, which are presented as valuable tools to correct the falsehoods believed by atheists and bring them to the truth, are revealed, by actually reading the thoughts of an atheist, to largely be tired, smart-sounding,  slogans being thrown around in an echo chamber, unaware that many of them as stated are completely unpersuasive to actual skeptics.

Godless begins with a rather off-putting, acerbic foreword by Richard Dawkins who, in the most condescending terms possible, expresses the need to actually understand Christians in order to reason with them. And Dawkins is right. Relationships between these two disparate worldviews can't be built on canned arguments and intellectual potshots aimed more at readers within the writer's own community than at the other one. Real dialogue and mutual understanding are necessary. Simply confronting the naturalistic worldview from the perspective of our own is not sufficient. For example, atheists like Barker don't see themselves as hopelessly lost, rebels, depraved sinners, etc., so addressing them as such is at best counterproductive, at most hurtful, even if we think we're being loving by presenting the truth to them.

In a sense, there is a difference between belief and knowledge, as Barker argues. If we dialogue with atheists while "knowing" we Christians are right, that we alone have the truth and anyone who disagrees is wrong, end of story, so therefore atheists must be proved wrong on every point...well, you can see how this "dialogue" would be a sham. Atheists, with their exaltation of reason and disregard for superstition, are guilty of this as well, even in this book, which is happy to evaluate Christianity almost entirely according to humanistic morals and naturalistic reasoning. By allowing "orthodoxy" to dictate that Christians must be right and atheists wrong, we lose the ability to learn from them. I think the very existence of a "Freedom from Religion Foundation" is not simply an occasion to cite Matthew 5:11 and consider ourselves blessed, but a sobering indication that something may be wrong with Christianity in America. Barker's synonymous usage of the terms "freethinker" and "atheist" should be an indication that our way of reading John 8:32 as emphasizing the need to believe the right things may need to be rethought. Critiques of the church are not automatically sin or persecution, no matter where they come from. If Barker allowed some credibility to the Bible, he might have closed as I am about to, by citing James 3:17: "But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere."

God's Justice

I've been doing a lot of thinking about (among other things) different views on atonement--ways of thinking about how Christ's sacrificial death saved us from sin--recently. The most common view in much of Protestantism is the "penal substitution" view of atonement (PSA): in a nutshell, that we are innately sinful; God, being perfectly just, cannot tolerate or ignore sin and must punish it with death but, out of love, so as to be "just and the one who justifies" (Romans 3:26), He gave His son to pay the penalty of death for sin in our stead so that we can live in union with God. This blog post by Derek Flood less charitably describes what the doctrine of penal substitution might sound like to non-Christians who are learning about the gospel and wondering why Jesus had to die:

You have broken the law because it is impossible to keep it, and so you must have broken it. And because you cannot keep this impossible to keep law you will be charged with death because "the penalty for sin is death" and those are just the rules. God must have blood because the law requires it; there must be a penalty paid. The only payment that would have been enough is sacrificing someone who was the "perfect law-keeper", someone who could live a perfect life without sin. So God decided to kill his own Son on the cross to appease his legal need for blood. Now that Jesus has been sacrificed God is no longer mad at us for not doing what we can't do anyway, so we can now come and live with him forever - as long as we are grateful to him for his "mercy" to us.

The basic assumption behind PSA is that God's justice and His mercy/love/kindness are in tension. God wants to have mercy on us, to forgive us and be in unbroken relationship with us, but being just He cannot overlook our sin and must punish it. As John Calvin, the former lawyer and one of the main theologians responsible for the modern understanding of PSA, says:

--sinners, until freed from guilt, being always liable to the wrath and curse of God, who, as a just judge, cannot permit his law to be violated with impunity, but is armed for vengeance. But before we proceed further, we must see in passing, how can it be said that God, who prevents us with his mercy, was our enemy until he was reconciled to us by Christ. - Institutes 2.16.1-2

 This has implications for our view of God's justice and what it entails. The Calvinist explanation of why God does not elect everyone to salvation is that by His justice, we all deserve death for our sinfulness and God would be just to execute this punishment this instant; it is a miracle of His mercy that anyone is saved or even takes their next breath (so quit your whining!). Justly, God owes us nothing and anything good we receive from Him is mercy, not justice. Then I was hit by these verses:

And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (Luke 18:7-8)

So clearly God's justice is here supposed to be a good thing. The elect, who according to Calvinism are those who have been spared God's justice, are supposed to look forward to receiving it.

Hear my voice according to your steadfast love; O LORD, according to your justice give me life. (Psalm 119:149, ESV translation)

 According to your justice, not mercy. Don't we justly deserve death? How can God give us life according to His justice? You could argue that this refers to God being just by crushing His son and giving us life, but again, in this scenario Christ receives the justice and we receive the mercy. There isn't supposed to be anything good (beneficial or desirable) about justice for us, is there?

In fact, doing a simple search for Biblical uses of the word "justice". In the Old Testament, justice most often appears not as punishment administered by a holy God but as something desirable that we are called to give to everyone, especially the socially outcast or marginalized. Ancient Near East cultures did not share our modern conception of justice as simply restitution of wrongs. Their conception of justice was intricately tied in with wisdom, the ability to make wise decisions to restore parts of life to the good, orderly state, the "way things should be", which in the OT is the Hebrew concept of shalom.

The law calls us to give justice to everyone:

• Do not deny justice to your poor people in their lawsuits. (Exodus 23:6)
• Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly. (Leviticus 19:15)
• Cursed is the man who withholds justice from the alien, the fatherless or the widow. (Deuteronomy 27:19)

The books of history give examples of people who acted in justice or injustice:

• But [Samuel's] sons did not walk in his ways. They turned aside after dishonest gain and accepted bribes and perverted justice. (1 Samuel 8:3)
• And Absalom would add, "If only I were appointed judge in the land! Then everyone who has a complaint or case could come to me and I would see that he gets justice." (2 Samuel 15:4)
• He [Solomon] built the throne hall, the Hall of Justice, where he was to judge, and he covered it with cedar from floor to ceiling. (1 Kings 7:7)

In the wisdom literature justice is equated with righteousness or both helping the needy and punishing the wicked.

• The LORD works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed. (Psalm 103:6)
• He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. (Psalm 37:6)
• Blessed are they who maintain justice, who constantly do what is right. (Psalm 106:3)
• I know that the LORD secures justice for the poor and upholds the cause of the needy. (Psalm 140:12)
• Arise, O LORD, in your anger; rise up against the rage of my enemies. Awake, my God; decree justice. (Psalm 7:6)
• It is not good to be partial to the wicked or to deprive the innocent of justice. (Proverbs 18:5)
• The righteous care about justice for the poor, but the wicked have no such concern. (Proverbs 29:7)
• If you see the poor oppressed in a district, and justice and rights denied, do not be surprised at such things; for one official is eyed by a higher one, and over them both are others higher still. (Ecclesiastes 5:8)

What about the books of prophecy? Aren't they full of declarations of God's impending justice on sinful Israel?

• Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow. (Isaiah 1:17)
• Zion will be redeemed with justice, her penitent ones with righteousness. (Isaiah 1:27)
• Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless.  (Isaiah 10:1-2)
• In love a throne will be established; in faithfulness a man will sit on it--one from the house of David--one who in judging seeks justice and speeds the cause of righteousness. (Isaiah 16:5)
• Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the LORD is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him! (Isaiah 30:18)
• "Listen to me, my people; hear me, my nation: The law will go out from me; my justice will become a light to the nations. My righteousness draws near speedily, my salvation is on the way, and my arm will bring justice to the nations. The islands will look to me and wait in hope for my arm. (Isaiah 51:4-5)
• Truth is nowhere to be found, and whoever shuns evil becomes a prey. The LORD looked and was displeased that there was no justice. (Isaiah 59:15)
• "For I, the LORD, love justice; I hate robbery and iniquity. In my faithfulness I will reward them and make an everlasting covenant with them. (Isaiah 61:8)
• Correct me, LORD, but only with justice--not in your anger, lest you reduce me to nothing. (Jeremiah 10:24)
• I am with you and will save you,' declares the LORD. 'Though I completely destroy all the nations among which I scatter you, I will not completely destroy you. I will discipline you but only with justice; I will not let you go entirely unpunished.' (Jeremiah 30:11)
• The people of the land practice extortion and commit robbery; they oppress the poor and needy and mistreat the alien, denying them justice. (Ezekiel 22:29)
• I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. (Hosea 2:19)
• They trample on the heads of the poor as upon the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed. (Amos 2:7)
• Hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts. Perhaps the LORD God Almighty will have mercy on the remnant of Joseph. (Amos 5:15)
• But as for me, I am filled with power, with the Spirit of the LORD, and with justice and might, to declare to Jacob his transgression, to Israel his sin. (Micah 3:8)
• Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted. (Habakkuk 1:4)
• "This is what the LORD Almighty says: 'Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor. In your hearts do not think evil of each other.' (Zechariah 7:9-10)

Or in the New Testament:

• "Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. (Matthew 12:18)
• And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, 'Grant me justice against my adversary.' (Luke 18:3)
• For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. He has given proof of this to all men by raising him from the dead." (Acts 17:31)

And finally the Romans passage everyone likes to cite in support of penal substitution:

Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin. But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate his justice, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished--he did it to demonstrate his justice at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus. (Romans 3:20-26)

Yes, this is a somewhat arbitrary selection of verses on justice (look for them yourself if you like), but I tried to find verses that most closely fit the penal substitution view of God's justice as a need to punish sin. But this kind of usage is surprisingly rare. Besides the Romans passage, we see it in Acts 17:31 and maybe Isaiah 61:8, but these are only a small part of the "big picture" of the justice God embodies and wants us (yes, us!) to practice as well. Biblical justice means having compassion on the poor, needy, outcast, and marginalized (this is very convicting to me too), loving what is good, hating what is evil, standing for righteousness. It is indeed closely tied in with righteousness, but it seems to have more temporal or civil connotations--it is an essential quality for kings (Proverbs 29:4), judges (2 Samuel 15:4), and for all of God's people (Psalm 106:3).

For God, who is said to be the ultimate source of justice (Proverbs 29:26), justice does not only look like pouring His wrath out on the ungodly, but in having compassion and redeeming His people--acts that are often contrasted with the justice we are supposed to deserve from Him. Yes, God's justice does also mean punishing unrighteousness, but if we make that the whole definition we not only hold a distorted view of God but miss out on the impact of His commands for us to also be just. I'm not trying to undermine the view of justice held by PSA, but to argue that it is grossly incomplete and myopic. If all God's justice means to us is that He hates sin and has to punish sinners, we miss out on most of the rich (and relevant) theology of justice the Bible has to offer.

God's justice can't be so easily separated or put into tension with His compassion and mercy for us. The crucial distinction that is so easily missed in the PSA view, I think, is that God's justice means that He hates sin, but loves us sinners. The caricature of PSA above depicts God as angry at us, even bloodthirsty, but this is not wholly inaccurate. Proponents of PSA easily slip from talking about God as angry at sin to God as angry at us. Calvin, speaking with his usual uncushioned precision, says "God, to whom we were hateful through sin, was appeased by the death of his Son." (Institutes 2.17.3) When condemning sin turns into condemning sinners (which is amazingly easy, even unnoticeable), God's justice is perverted. God's justice means condemning sin not because of "the rules" or because our sins make Him very, very angry, but because of His abiding, just love for righteousness and equal hatred for sin as the opposing force to His plan for shalom.

Speaking from personal experience, a common tactic of denial is to brush away arguments like this, that God's view of justice is less about condemning sinners and more about caring for issues suspiciously akin to the "liberal agenda", as "social justice Christianity" that is only focused on making things better here and now with no eternal perspective. But the Biblical evidence demands to be heard. People say that Jesus preached about a lot of things more than anything else, but while reading the gospels in my New Testament class this semester I think that, fundamentally, his preaching was centered around the message: "Repent, for the kingdom of God is near." Heaven is coming down to earth. He came not to put our souls on a lifeboat to heaven or bring about economic equality for all, but to inaugurate the coming of the eternal kingdom of God to our temporal world. The gospel is a message stretching to eternity, but for the believer, eternity begins here and now.

Note: My last post said my next one would be about evolution. I have not forgotten that post and am working on it; I just realized this one was nearly done so I finished it.

Examining Sola Scriptura

Yes, you read the title right. An analysis of sola scriptura, one of the five "sola" pillars of Protestantism, and more generally the conservative/evangelical/Reformed perspective on scripture in American Christianity as I have known it, will be the subject of this post.

Where did it come from?

First, some background: the doctrine of sola scriptura ("by scripture alone") was firmly established by Martin Luther and the Protestant reformers who followed him, in response to what they saw as an overreaching of ecclesial authority by the Catholic church, placing interpretative tradition and the word of the Pope on equal or higher footing than the Bible. The Catholics had a doctrine of "prima scriptura" and saw scripture as merely the most important source of authoritative divine revelation along with, among others, church tradition; the church had, after all, selected the Biblical canon, so why should its authority be limited to this one act? This had led to abuses like the sale of indulgences that prompted Luther to act.

Luther asserted that "a simple layman armed with Scripture is greater than the mightiest pope without it". In other words, that the Bible should be the highest (not necessarily only) authority over a believer's doctrine and life to which all others are subordinate. This means that scripture contains everything necessary for salvation and Christian practice, and extrabiblical sources like church tradition or claims of supernatural experiences can never "trump" its authority.  Later reformers like John Calvin took this a little further, saying that scripture was self-authenticating (it proved itself to be God's word to the reader), perspicuous (self-interpreting or clear to the rational reader without any recourse to external aids), and totally sufficient for matters of faith and practice. Calvin explains his high view of scripture thus:

For it is wonderful how much we are confirmed in our belief when we attentively consider  how admirably the divine wisdom contained in [Scripture] is arranged--how perfectly free the doctrine is from every thing that savors of earth--how beautifully it harmonizes in all its parts--and how rich it is in all the other qualities which give an air of majesty to composition...For the truth is vindicated in opposition to every doubt, when, unsupported by foreign aid, it has its sole sufficiency in itself. - Institutes 1.8.1

Today, this stronger form of sola scriptura is the dominant one in American evangelical and reformed Christianity, particularly in more conservative or fundamentalist churches, and my argument below applies most strongly to it. It is at the very heart of Protestant doctrine and theology; the idea of preaching or teaching a doctrine derived from some source other than the Bible and declaring it to be "God's word" is (I would hope!) unthinkable to most Protestants. Wayne Grudem, one of the most prominent conservative evangelical theologians, bases his view of the authority and sufficiency of scripture on its being God's very words: "all the words in Scripture are God's words in such a way that to disbelieve of disobey any word of Scripture is to disbelieve or disobey God."

Sola scriptura has had other implications for how scripture is viewed. One example is the concept of Biblical infallibility/inerrancy. I'm still somewhat fuzzy on the distinction, but infallibility says that the Bible is completely trustworthy and unable to lie as a guide to faith and salvation, while inerrancy makes the stronger claim that the Bible is unable to be wrong (err) on any point of anything it speaks about. Grudem explains that "Scripture in the original manuscripts  does not affirm anything that is contrary to fact." Based on 2 Timothy 3:16, scripture is considered to be "inspired" by God; some churches explain this as meaning it is "God's voice in human words", others hold the stronger theory of "divine dictation", that the specific words in the Bible are also inspired. To quote Calvin again:

But since no daily responses are given from heaven, and the Scriptures are the only records  in which God has been pleased to consign his truth to perpetual remembrance, the full authority which they ought to possess with the faithful is not recognized, unless they are believed to come from heaven, as directly as if God has been heard giving utterance to them. -  Institutes 1.7.1

At any rate, the Bible is given a central place in Protestant theology; every claim must confirm to the teaching of scripture, and Christians are similarly called to live "by the book".

I wouldn't argue for a second that the Reformation or sola scriptura was a bad idea. The abuses of spiritual authority Luther was protesting were real, and making spiritual authority reliant on the (relatively) unchanging Bible has indeed helped prevent some of the more flagrant departures from the gospel as seen in the very early church (the Gnostics, Judaizers and other false teachers that many of the epistles warn against) or the pre-Reformation Catholic church. God can and does speak to people through the Bible, and putting it front and center maximizes this.

Nonetheless, I think sola scriptura has been seriously misused by much of the Protestant church. My criticism is not really on sola scriptura as originally laid out by Luther, but on the (I think) uniquely Protestant way of approaching the Bible it represents and what has become of it today.

Solo scriptura, literalism, and inerrancy

True, Luther didn't think Christians should disregard all other sources of spiritual authority, merely subordinate them to the Bible. But when your idea is called "by scripture alone" it's easy to see how this qualification could be dropped and people would start viewing the Bible alone as totally sufficient for the Christian--not just for guidance to salvation, but for all doctrine, preaching, and teaching. Again, Grudem: "[Scripture] now contains all the words of God we need for salvation, for trusting him perfectly, and for obeying him perfectly." This idea of scripture being all you need is implicit in the modern practice of "inductive Bible study". This is the distortion known as solo scriptura.

Once you believe that the Bible is God's all-sufficient word, spoken to the "priesthood of all believers" (i.e. laymen) for all to understand and live by, and that it is the only book needed (see Calvin above, "unsupported by foreign aid"), the logical consequence is that the Bible should be read the way an uneducated layman with no sources of information outside the Bible would read it: that is, literally. As I've argued, a strictly literal reading of scripture is self-contradicting to the point of impossibility and absurdity.

De/recontextualization

I had a related argument for why external sources like commentary and church tradition were unnecessary for understanding the Bible: the early, first-century church of course had none of these things, and of course they understood it (the NT authors certainly did, at least), so we need none of these aids either. What I forgot in this statement is that I am not a first-century Jewish/Palestinian/Greek Christian. I think possibly the biggest mistake people today (Christians, atheists, and everyone in between) make in understanding the Bible is "cultural imperialism"; reading it from a modern, western perspective and not realizing that though it was, in a sense, written for them, it was not written to them but to readers in the ancient or classical Near East with a radically different culture and worldview from our own. By imposing our modern, scientific expectations and frameworks of thought on such an ancient document, we can unknowingly twist its meaning, sometimes beyond recognition. (I am working on another post that goes much more into this) But if the Bible is all Christians need for faith and practice, who needs cultural-historical context? If it's the word of an eternal God spoken to us, shouldn't it be just as familiar and relevant to modern, western readers as it was to early middle-eastern Christians?

No. By emphasizing the Bible as "God's timeless word" and minimizing the role of  the human authors (or explaining inerrancy and divine dictation by saying that the books were inspired by the Spirit), we abandon the need to read the Bible as the ancient document that it is. We pull the Bible out of its ancient context and plant it in our modern one where all narrative-like texts are implicitly literal and historical, truth must fit into a clear, concise, logical system, and where attributes of God that don't fit with present-day mores are explained away or discreetly swept under the rug. This ancient-to-modern recontextualization is made easier by the attractive, modern packaging of the Bible in a single volume with a uniform style and language, which masks the fact that it began as dozens of ancient books from different authors, cultures, and languages written over thousands of years. Again, I'll get to this more in an upcoming post addressing evolution, but for now I'll say that the Bible was not written with the modern, scientific description of the cosmos in mind but an ancient, deity-infused one with a disc-like earth and celestial waters above the solid dome of the sky that is incompatible with ours at almost every turn. This is a bitter pill for believers in Biblical inerrancy to swallow.

Hermeneutical arrogance

Another danger with representing scripture as the clear, perfect, "word of God" spoken directly from His mouth is that it becomes very easy to believe that you pretty much have it "figured out". After all, if the Bible is God's communication to humans in words we can understand and the only book we need for Christian faith and practice, why should any part of it be confusing or hidden to a reader who goes into it earnestly seeking the truth of God? So comes the idea of Christian "doctrine", the set of spiritual truths that theologians through the centuries have agreed on from scripture, which are undeniably supported by the scripture. Anything that disagrees with doctrine is "heresy", treated as a threat, whether by vigorous debate or underlying suspicion and dismissive words. The essentials of faith are known and the non-essentials are, well non-essential; the frontier for theological truth is then vanishingly small and focused largely on refining and clarifying already-known truths. This idea of having set doctrine to which all expression within the church must conform is little different, in practice, from the church tradition that prompted Luther to speak against the church 500 years ago.

I see this manifested all the time in evangelical subculture, where very little focus is put into exploring and expanding knowledge of the Bible relative to learning for yourself what is already "known" (similar to getting students up to speed on basic mathematics), defending these truths from doubters and naysayers (apologetics), and especially on applying and proclaiming them to the world. The message to be proclaimed is already set in stone, and the job of Christians, then, is to act on it. Though in the teaching I've been a part of questioning of doctrine isn't actively discouraged, it's implicit that if something in Christian teaching doesn't make sense or is hard to believe, the problem is on your end and you should look for help understanding and humbly ask God to open your mind to what He has to say, or perhaps not be so presumptuous as to question God. On the most fundamental level of doctrine, there is little if any questioning or self-reflection going on.

Contradictions go under the rug

If scripture is the inerrant, directly-spoken word of God, then of course it should all fit together without any contradiction--as Calvin says, "beautifully harmonize in all its parts". No evidence, objection, or argument should be able to stand on any point against the truth of scripture, and any apparent contradiction contained therein should only be a product of our fallen perspective, or perhaps the translation. As a last resort, the motives of the questioner are questioned (Romans 9:20) or the unutterable mystery of God is invoked (Isaiah 40:28, 55:8). These apparent inconsistencies and quandaries are viewed as the unexplored frontier of our knowledge of the Bible, instead of indications that a wrong assumption has been made somewhere along the way.

After years of forcing myself to believe the "plain and obvious" truths I was taught and months of tying myself in theological knots for the sake of my belief in Biblical harmony (if the Bible does harmonize so perfectly, why did I have to spend months getting it to do so?), I have concluded that the Bible does have contradictions (or, more charitably, tensions) and does not "harmonize" like we expect it to.

For example, the evolution debate (again, building up to my next post). Christians with this high view of scripture who don't simply dismiss the scientific evidence to believe Genesis 1 literally have a lot of explaining to do. What does it mean that God created the world in six "days"? How long is a "day" (yom in Hebrew)? How could there be light (and days) before the sun and moon were created? What are the waters above the sky on day two? How were there trees before there were any sea animals? How is this text still meaningful in any way to the modern view of the cosmos? In their efforts to explain this text in a way that can be considered "true" to modern sensibilities, driven by the belief that scripture must be true to us on any point no matter how small, well-meaning interpreters twist the words of scripture in a way that seems almost violent. My unease over this "twisting" has been the driving force behind my journey to a new, better way of approaching scripture.

I played the game of trying to find answers or explanations for these kinds of Biblical quandaries for years, intensifying in the last six or so months. I was unwilling to admit that God could contradict Himself or affirm anything contrary to reality in His word. As more difficulties kept popping up, reading the Bible while trying to defend it from itself became a chore, then an unenjoyable burden that was crushing my faith. Then, finally, came the one that put me over the edge. After all I'd learned and studied in my church about how clear Paul is that no one could be justified by following the law, that "it" has always been about grace through faith, I read Deuteronomy 30:11-14 as if for the first time:

“For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will ascend to heaven for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.

And I already knew and had tried to "explain away" Leviticus 18:5 ("You shall therefore keep my statutes and my rules; if a person does them, he shall live by them: I am the LORD.") and Deuteronomy 6:25 ("And it will be righteousness for us, if we are careful to do all this commandment before the LORD our God, as he has commanded us.") The contradiction here, not just in details but in a central pillar of the gospel, the role of the law, was inescapable. Paul wrote that no one could be saved by the law, that from time of Abraham righteousness has come only by faith, while Moses told the Israelites to seek an attainable righteousness and justification from the law. These passages could not coexist in the harmonious system of doctrine that was supposed to lie within the Bible's pages. My old view on Biblical contradictions, which was really little different from the standard tactic of harmonization, had proved to be insufficient. I finally admitted to a God I could barely believe in: "Your word has a contradiction in it. What do I do now?" I'm increasingly seeing this admission not as the end of my faith, but as a rebirth, but still letting Him work out the answer to that question. I see it as the next step of my continuing exploration of "healthy" doubt by which God is paring away everything I hold in competition with Him--including, apparently, my view and expectations of His word.

It was in this context that I decided to buy some books by the liberal evangelical theologian Peter Enns, who seemed to have some interesting and challenging things to say about how we handle the Bible. I read The Evolution of Adam and Incarnation and Inspiration in about a day each, though I think I'll need to read them both a few more times. Here, finally, was a theologian who gave every evidence of having been through the doubts I was having, who didn't ignore, minimalize, or unconvincingly explain away the increasingly dire questions I was having about the Bible but addressed them head-on, not in the way I was hoping for but in the way I needed. Enns takes the Bible more seriously than any other modern (possibly any) theologian I've read, without believing in inerrancy, divine dictation, or other such Biblical frameworks. Unlike other explanations I'd read, the books were challenging not because I felt obligated to believe wholeheartedly in something I wasn't convinced was true, but because it seemed to be true in a way that threatened to stretch and expand my very view of truth. I'm still working out the implications of this, but for now, let me say to anyone who struggles to believe in God and the Bible as presented by mainline evangelical theology, it is possible to have a "lower" view of scripture without lowering (and even enhancing) your view of God.

Continuing tradition

Also, I mentioned earlier that the idea of having a set foundation of "doctrine" which effectively can't be questioned within the evangelical/reformed community is little different, effectively, from the Catholic idea of church tradition and "dogma", even if it is based entirely on interpreted scripture. But besides this, there are quite a few interpretive traditions in the protestant church with little or no Biblical support that people continue to believe, though not as strongly or centrally as doctrine. These are cases where a common interpretation becomes, mentally, almost indistinguishable from the text. A few examples:

• Jesus' birth in a stable. The Luke account does not actually mention a stable; only that Jesus was laid in a manger "because there was no place for them in the inn". I've read an interesting theory revolving around the Greek word for "inn", which in its other two NT uses is translated as "guest room", which then theorizes that the manger was not in a stable but in the "mud room" of a house where the animals would come in to eat in the winter, because the guest room of the house was full. Certainly not a central doctrine issue, but worth noting with how big a deal Jesus being born in a stable becomes around Christmas. I'm guessing that most Christians, if told that the stable birth is not actually in the Bible, would be surprised.
• The Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch. It's commonly assumed, but surprisingly easy to disprove. I'm also covering this more in the evolution post, but for now note that Deuteronomy 34, besides documenting Moses' death (which is commonly explained by Joshua writing the ending and Moses writing the rest), also says that "to this day no one knows where his grave is" (v. 6). Could Joshua and the Israelites have forgotten so quickly where they buried Moses?
• The usage of the third commandment. Lots of Christians think it means not to use expressions like "Oh my God" or "Good Lord", when really it means not to misrepresent God or do something contrary to His will "in the name of God" (basically a prohibition of divine identity theft).
• The creation of different languages at the Tower of Babel. Genesis 11 is often used to explain the diversity of languages in the world today, but all the text says is that God "confused their language" and then scattered them over the world.

This is somewhat akin to interpretive traditions we see influencing the New Testament that are found nowhere in the Old, such as Melchizedek never dying (Hebrews 7:3) or Michael disputing with the devil over the body of Moses (Jude 9).

So, after that polemic, back to sola scriptura. I would be the first to say that the abuses of spiritual authority Luther spoke against were real, and his point of not elevating human wisdom and tradition above the Bible remains valid for the church. But his assertion of the supreme authority of scripture has led to many misconceptions when approaching it, some of which I have outlined above. Biblical scholars emphasize that context is everything when interpreting scripture, but consider the context of sola scriptura. Luther established it because he (rightly) felt that a truth central to the gospel, salvation in Christ, by faith, through grace alone (all three of them) was under threat.

Conclusion

But where sola scriptura was then used to defend this "fundamental" of the Christian faith, today descendant ideas like inerrancy, perspicuity, and "divine dictation" are often (mainly, even) used to defend the periphery of the faith from disagreement, deny doubt and shut down arguments. (Evolution, homosexuality, predestination, anyone?) Most concerningly, it has led to the creation of an unassailable body of doctrine that functions, effectively, like extrabiblical church tradition and ecclesial authority did for the Catholic church in Luther's time. Anyone who dared to question this body of doctrine as Luther did in 1517 by positing an alternative interpretation of the Bible that conflicted with one of the "essentials" of the faith would face the same kind of condemnation he did, though more in the form of damning book reviews/blog comments, the dreaded "heretic" label, and ostracization from "mainstream Evangelicalism" than excommunication and the Diet of Worms. (c.f. Rob Bell, who is now getting pre-emptive criticism of his new book--not that I agree with everything he says, but he's currently the poster boy for this kind of shunning)

So, one more time, my issue is not with the idea of sola scriptura as Luther introduced and used it, but in how his line of thinking has since influenced our view and expectations of the Bible. People say all the time that the Bible is no ordinary book, but this means more than just its being the record of God's written revelation to humanity. Relatively speaking, we barely have any documents from the ancient and classical ages, let alone any others that have been so well-preserved and often copied as the Bible. The result is that the Bible is by far the oldest book to be so widely read and discussed in America, let alone worldwide. (Possibly followed by the works of Shakespeare, but that's mostly because of high school English classes) This uniqueness may help explain why people forget to treat it as an ancient document. If sola scriptura means that God's authority through scripture trumps human authority in opposition to the basic message of the gospel, I agree. But I stand against using it to defend reading scripture "alone", apart from knowledge of basic hermeneutical truths like:

• The active (and fallible) role of the interpreter. The existence of "pervasive interpretive pluralism", as Christian Smith puts it, demonstrates that the Bible is not "crystal clear" or self-interpreting. Conservatives who argue against interpretations using the "authority of scripture" forget that every reading of scripture, including the "plain-faced" literal one, is an interpretation.
• The culture in which it was written. For instance, a literal reading of Genesis 1 by a modern Christian is completely different than how a 5th century B.C. Jew would read it literally (which I think they did), not only because of the difference in languages but also because of the difference in cultures, view of deity, view of the cosmos, etc. What was clear to an ancient reader may be obscure to or easily missed by a modern one.

One of my favorite parts of Enns' theology is his "incarnational" view of scripture that considered both its human and divine side, like with Christ. In our overzealous desire for a "high" view of the Bible, we often tend to neglect the human side, instead putting on it nonhuman expectations like freedom from earthly context, inerrancy, and communication of the exact words of God that the Bible steadfastly refuses to meet. By forcing scripture to stand alone, we rip it out of its ancient context and reject things that would help us understand and apply it better. Like Christ, the Bible is fully God's word, but also fully composed of human words, rooted in a particular human context--revelation passed through human lenses. I don't think God communicates to us in any other way.

The top 10 Biblical arguments against Biblical literalism

I've been thinking a lot lately about the Bible: its nature as God's word, how to read it, and the view of truth that is presented in it. I am still very much on on the way to arriving at conclusions, a journey that might take my whole life, and right now, though trusting in Christ like I may never have before, I feel sure of very little else. Below is one quick "bread crumb" from the journey I've been on. My old philosophy for Biblical hermeneutics (interpreting a text) was to "interpret the Bible as literally as possible." The biggest problem with this (qualified) statement of Biblical literalism is, as Matt Chandler would put it, the Bible. Below are the ten best arguments I could find from the Bible alone (not bringing in historical, scientific, etc. evidence) against the categorical belief that the most faithful reading of God's word is the most literal.

10.

...and Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ. - Matthew 1:16

Now Jesus himself was about thirty years old when he began his ministry. He was the son, so it was thought, of Joseph, the son of Heli... - Luke 3:23

So whose son is Joseph, anyway? Unless there is some way that the father-son relationship is not symmetric. And this ties in with the next one...

9.

And do not call anyone on earth 'father', for you have one father and he is in heaven. - Matthew 23:9

Keep in mind that this was written in Greek, so it likely isn't exclusive to the single English word "father". If you've ever called your...well, the man who conceived you "father", "dad", "papa", or any equivalent, you have broken this command of Jesus, as interpreted literally. This is especially interesting considering that Matthew wrote this and earlier called Jacob the father of Joseph (and many other people "father" as well), indicating that he was not taking Jesus' command literally, while inspired by the Holy Spirit to write his gospel.

8.

Vindicate me, O Lord, for I have led a blameless life; I have trusted in the Lord without wavering. - Psalm 26:1

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. - Romans 3:23

Now, you could argue that David simply hadn't sinned yet and Bathshebagate hadn't happened, but seeing as he was probably at least twenty when he wrote this, that is very difficult to believe.

7.

Because on [the Day of Atonement] atonement will be made for you. Then, before the Lord, you will be clean from all your sins. - Leviticus 16:30

Because it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. - Hebrews 10:4

Did the Israelite's God-given rituals for atonement of sin work or not? Is there a difference between being made clean from all your sins and having them taken away?

6.

Leave [Shimei] alone; let him curse [David], for the Lord has told him to. - 2 Samuel 16:11b

For I [Shimei] your servant know that I have sinned. - 2 Samuel 19:20a

When tempted, no one should say, 'God is tempting me.' For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone. - James 1:13

Is telling someone to sin different from tempting them to sin? I am of the view that God telling someone to sin is the same as Him causing someone to sin since He gives them the impossible choice of obeying Him by sinning, or sinning by disobeying Him.

5.

He [Solomon] made the Sea of cast metal, circular in shape, measuring ten cubits from rim to rim and five cubits high. It took a line of thirty cubits to measure around it. - 1 Kings 7:23

This one is an old favorite of skeptics. But seriously: did Solomon, one of the wisest men ever to live, believe that π is exactly 3, and that God has created our mental faculties in such as way as to be unable to do math or basic observation correctly to confirm this fact?

4.

Do not wear clothing woven of two kinds of material. - Leviticus 19:19b

Make the ephod of gold, and of blue, purple, and scarlet yarn, and of finely twisted linen--the work of a skilled craftsman. - Exodus 28:6

So that's gold, linen, and yarn (which may have been made of linen). It is true that God tells the Israelites to disobey this commandment before it was technically given, but this is hardly an explanation since God is eternal and does not change (Malachi 3:6); as well, this commandment was given (relatively) shortly after the Mt. Sinai episode, when the priests were still going strong in their ministry, and for God to condemn the priests' attire which He had previously prescribed is...difficult to accept.

3.

Do not answer a fool according to his folly, or you will be like him yourself. Answer a fool according to his folly, or he will be wise in his own eyes. - Proverbs 26:4,5

No further comment.

2.

I will make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and will give them all these lands, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because Abraham obeyed me and kept my requirements, my commandments, my decrees, and my laws. - Genesis 26:4-5

It was not through law that Abraham and his offspring received the promise that he would be heir of the world, but through the righteousness that comes by faith. - Romans 4:13

Were Abraham and Isaac blessed because of their obedience to law, or not?

1.

Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach. It is not up in heaven, so that you have to ask, “Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?” Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, “Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?” No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it. - Deuteronomy 30:11-14

And if we are careful to obey all this law before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness. - Deuteronomy 6:25

Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of sin. - Romans 3:20

This is the question that shattered the last figments of my own belief in Biblical literalism. Moses tells the Israelites that the law is already in their hearts so they can obey it and be righteous; Paul writes that no one can be made righteous by the law and no one can even love God or obey Him until God writes His law in their hearts. (Which apparently has not happened yet). There is simply no way to affirm both of these passages if they are interpreted literally.


I am not presenting these difficulties with the intent to show that the Bible is false or contradictory. My point is that in a strictly literalist system for interpreting the Bible that doesn't have its head planted firmly in the sand, these questions and many others become impossible to ignore. From the plain-faced, "objective" reading of the text that the literal view espouses, these really are contradictions, and Christians do themselves and their witness no favors by ignoring this fact.

Of course, there are many ways to resolve these conflicts, but they all involve moving away from a purely literal interpretation. For the conflicts between the genealogies, for instance, many commentators argue that Matthew presents Jesus' legal lineage through Joseph, and Luke His actual lineage through Mary, which is certainly possible, but the fact is that the text really says that Joseph is the son of both Jacob and Heli, and this harmonization disagrees. Or for #4, you could argue that the priestly garments were exempt from the law against wearing heterogeneous clothing, but, again, the text itself contains no hint at such an exemption.

This is understandably disconcerting for someone from an evangelical background such as myself. It feels wrong or disrespectful to God to treat what He seems to be saying nonliterally as if dismissing it--and yet, the text demands it. We misuse God's word if we expect it to be other than it is, namely written so as to conform to modern/postmodern conceptions of truth and objectivity, hermeneutical and interpretive methods, and scientific knowledge that did not exist when it was written. This is a form of eisegesis--reading meaning we want to see into the text, instead of allowing it to read into us. I'm still working through the implications of this and will likely be doing so for a while, but I think it's a step on the journey toward a God who is (thankfully) too huge for me to comprehend.

The Blessing of "Predestination"

Mark Driscoll has long (deliberately, I think) been a rather divisive figure in American evangelicalism. While worthy of respect for bringing the gospel to tens of thousands of unchurched people in the American northeast and founding the church planting organization Acts 29, he has come under fire for, among others, some of the practices of Mars Hill church, sexism, and, most recently, a certain tweet he made about President Obama. Fortunately, I'm not going to focus on any of these things but want to comment on his doctrine. Specifically, a section from his most recent sermon which was interesting in light of my post series on providence (which I swear I'm working on finishing).

First of all, he does mention Arminianism dismissively and in passing, which is sadly about par for the course for most of the Calvinists I've read. He boils Arminian theology down to the single statement that "We choose God", while Calvinism is implied to stand for the much more theologically sound belief that "God chooses us". To Driscoll's credit, he does admit this is a simplification--but getting the facts wrong is not the same thing as simplifying them. I'm not exactly Arminian, but I'm close enough to feel somewhat protective of it, and I think a better summary would be that "God invites us to salvation and we freely respond with faith, to which God responds by bestowing salvation in Christ". Not was pithy, but then the truth rarely is. It's a common misconception of Arminianism (at least as I understand it) that it believes we are the initiators in relationship with God; this is absolutely not true.

But that's just a minor correction; I'm getting used to being surrounded by people I disagree with and I hold no ill will toward Driscoll for this mistake. What's more interesting is his series of illustrations that follows. He argues for "predestination" with a series of stories of personal redemption: first Paul, then himself, then a variety of other people with prison shivs, demonic encounters, and tattoos of the virgin Mary with devil horns who all had salvific encounters with God. What his argument boils down to is that if you want nothing to do with God and seem irredeemable but God finds and saves you anyway, you were predestined. You know what? I agree.

I'm not trying to create more controversy here but to shut it down. After his earlier comments, these examples don't say anything objectionable to Arminianism. In fact, I don't think they speak directly to the predestination debate at all. That God can powerfully change the hearts of people opposed to Him and redeem them is not a controversial truth, at least for Christians. Driscoll doesn't here care whether this total transformation happens by irresistible grace or the sinner's willing acquiescence, and I gladly accept his point that God lovingly chooses to bless and save sinners who care nothing for Him.

Of course, given Driscoll's repeated use of the loaded term "predestined" (which I'm sure means something different for him than for me), I'm not sure that his own aim was to defuse controversy. But if we listen and seek to understand and interact with truth claims rather than simply agreeing with or denying them, a lot of controversy in the church starts to seem unnecessary.

Recategorization

If you bother to look at the list of tags on this blog, you may notice some changes. After realizing I've been using "Faith" and "Theology" as catchall bins for every tangentially related post, I've gone through my archive of posts and retagged them with some more descriptive ones. My old posts may not be much to read, but they're easier to access now!