At church last Sunday, I learned something about the Greek of John
1:11. Some of my readers may already know what I am about to share, but
it was new to me, since I have not read the Gospel of John in Greek
since I took New Testament Greek in college.
John 1:11 states regarding the Word who became Jesus Christ: “He came
unto his own (neuter plural), and his own (masculine plural) received
him not” (KJV).
As you can see, the first “his own” is in the neuter plural. The
pastor translated this as “his own things.” The second “his own,”
however, is in the masculine plural, which refers to people. The pastor
translated this verse as: “He came unto his own things, and his own
people received him not.”
What is the significance of this grammatical point to the meaning of
John 1:11? The pastor made a point that is similar to a Muslim concept
that I have heard: that creation is naturally submissive to God, but
human beings are not necessarily, since they have free will. The Word
who became Jesus Christ came to his own things, but his own people did
not submit to him.
I checked a variety of commentaries: George Beasley-Murray’s Word Biblical Commentary on the Gospel of John, David Rensberger’s comments in the HarperCollins Study Bible,
John Calvin’s commentary, John MacArthur’s study Bible, and the E-Sword
commentaries (Albert Barnes, Cambridge, Adam Clarke, John Gill,
Jamieson-Faussett-Brown, etc.). Essentially, they said that the verse
means that God came to his own property, and his own people received him
not. And what is God’s property? Some say the world, whereas others
say Israel, which was God’s own possession (Exodus 19:5).
The “world” interpretation may have the preceding verse going for
it. John 1:10 states: “He was in the world, and the world was made by
him, and the world knew him not” (KJV). In this interpretation, the
world belonged to the Word because the Word created it: the Word came to
the world, his own property, and his own people there did not receive
him.
On BibleWorks, I looked up the Greek word “idios” (own) in the Gospel
of John, specifically when the word is in the neuter and lacks an
accompanying noun (as in John 1:11). A few times, it means one’s own
home (John 16:32; 19:27). Interestingly, a footnote to John 1:11 in the
HarperCollins Study Bible translates “ta idia” as “to his own
home.” The Word came to his own home. I thought of such passages as
Sirach 24 and I Enoch 42. In Sirach 24, wisdom searches for a home and
settles in Israel, especially Zion. In I Enoch 42, wisdom searches in
vain for a home on earth and then returns to heaven.
Many commentators have interpreted the Word (Logos) in John 1 in
reference to Wisdom in Proverbs 8:22-31 and other wisdom literature.
Could the author of John 1 have had passages such as Sirach 24 and I
Enoch 42 in mind? If so, perhaps we see irony in John 1. Jesus, as
Wisdom, came to what was supposed to be his home, Israel and Zion, and
many in his home did not receive him. Or, in reference to I Enoch 42,
Jesus sought a home on earth but was not successful; he went back to
heaven (John 8:21; 13:36), yet he has not turned his back on the earth
(John 12:32).
John 15:19 is noteworthy from a grammatical perspective: “If you
belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you
do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world–
therefore the world hates you” (KJV). “Its own” there is in the neuter,
yet it is applied to people, the disciples if they were to belong to
the world. That being the case, “ta idia” in John 1:11 could refer to
people, regarding them as God’s property. The different forms of
“idios” in John 1:11 do seem to go together: he came to his own, and his
own received him not. “His own” in both cases appears to have the same
reference point: he came to his own, and you would expect his own to
receive him, but his own do not.
I do not like to rain on people’s attempts to go more deeply into the
Bible, in search of features that are not immediately obvious. Maybe
there is significance in John 1:11’s usage of different forms of
“idios.” That “his own home” interpretation may have potential.
Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bible. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
Why Did Jesus Tell Mary, "Mine Hour Is Not Yet Come" (John 2:4)?
In John 2:1-11, Jesus and his disciples are at a wedding, and the
wedding feast runs out of wine. Jesus’ mother Mary tells Jesus about
the problem, and Jesus replies, “Woman, what have I to do with thee?
mine hour is not yet come” (KJV). But Jesus proceeds to turn the water
into wine.
Jesus’ statement that “mine hour is not yet come” intrigues me. The reason is that, throughout the Gospel of John, Jesus’ hour refers to the time of his crucifixion and resurrection (see 7:30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; 13:1; 17:1). But what does Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection have to do with his reluctance to change water into wine? “I don’t want to change water into wine right now, for my time to be crucified and resurrected has not come yet.” That doesn’t make much sense, does it?
In this post, I will interact with four attempts to solve this apparent problem. I will be drawing from this 2013 post, while also adding two interpretations that I recently encountered.
A. John Gill speculates that “it was not proper for him to work miracles as yet, lest it should provoke his enemies to seek his life before his time…” According to this interpretation, Jesus is essentially saying to Mary, “My hour to die is not yet come, so don’t pressure me to do something that might bring that about!” Maybe this explanation works. Perhaps Jesus in John 2:4 realized that the performance of his work was a delicate task: that he had to do things just right to get his message out. Jumping the gun by publicly turning the water into wine might puzzle or anger people prematurely, leading to his death, and thus he would not be able to say what he needed to say, when he needed to say it. Why, then, did Jesus turn the water into wine? Because he did so in a private, low-key manner, which would not attract premature attention.
And yet, not long after turning the water into wine, Jesus in John 2:13-25 cleansed the Temple of merchants and money-changers, criticizing them for making his Father’s house a house of merchandise. Jesus then told some of the Jews to destroy the Temple and Jesus would raise it up in three days, a statement that baffled them. Jesus also performed miracles in Jerusalem. Jesus was not afraid to be provocative, baffling, and confusing at the onset of his ministry. Why, then, did he think that turning water into wine was inappropriate, not long before that? Was he aware that the ministry that would lead to his death was about to start, and he was not in a hurry to start it? Did he want his ministry to be defined, not primarily in terms of miracles, but in terms of piety, and thus he wanted to start it with the cleansing of the Temple, not a miracle? Such a dim view of miracles does occur in the Gospel of John. In John 2:23-24, Jesus does not commit to people who believed in him on account of miracles that he did. In John 4:48, Jesus says with some frustration to a nobleman who wanted Jesus to heal his son, “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe.” In John 6:26-27, Jesus criticizes those who sought him for his miracles, specifically the multiplications of the loaves, encouraging them instead to seek the food that leads to eternal life.
B. Related to (A.), George Beasley-Murray in the Word Biblical Commentary on the Gospel of John states the following:
“In this Gospel the ‘hour’ of Jesus commonly denotes his death and glorification (see 7:30; 8:20; 13:1; 17:1). An immediate reference to that hour is scarcely thinkable in this context; it must relate to the service of the divine sovereignty on which Jesus now embarks, which will (as the Evangelist knows) culminate in the ‘lifting up’ on the cross. (If the saying was in the source it would clearly have related to the beginning of the redemptive ministry, and was interpreted by the Evangelist in the light of its end, since the ministry was an indivisible unity.) The import of the statement is to declare that Jesus’ service for the kingdom of God is determined solely by his Father; into that area not even his mother can intrude (cf. 7:3–9 and Mark 3:31–35, and see the excellent discussion of Schnackenburg, 1:327–31).”
In a way, Beasley-Murray interprets Jesus’ hour, not just in reference to Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, but also in reference to Jesus’ entire ministry, which would lead to Jesus’ crucifixion. And yet, Beasley-Murray’s reference to John 7:3-9 poses a problem for this interpretation. John 7:2-9 states:
“Now the Jews’ feast of tabernacles was at hand. His brethren therefore said unto him, Depart hence, and go into Judaea, that thy disciples also may see the works that thou doest. For there is no man that doeth any thing in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou do these things, shew thyself to the world. For neither did his brethren believe in him. Then Jesus said unto them, My time is not yet come: but your time is alway ready. The world cannot hate you; but me it hateth, because I testify of it, that the works thereof are evil. Go ye up unto this feast: I go not up yet unto this feast; for my time is not yet full come. When he had said these words unto them, he abode still in Galilee.”
John 7:2-9 takes place after Jesus started his ministry. And, after starting his ministry, Jesus is still saying that his time has not yet come. Can we, therefore, interpret Jesus’ ministry as part of his “hour”?
What is interesting, though, is that Jesus soon thereafter in John 7 goes to Jerusalem and assumes a public profile by teaching in the Temple and getting into an argument with Judean critics. Jesus probably realized that he was walking a fine line, or treading on delicate territory. Jesus did not want to bring about his death before his time, so he was hesitant at times to make a public appearance, lest that could provoke people to kill him. And yet, Jesus did not impose on himself inflexible guidelines, for he changed his mind and went to Jerusalem. John 7:30 states that Jesus’ enemies did not lay hands on him, as much as they wanted to do so, for Jesus’ hour had not yet come. Perhaps Jesus concluded, after some thought, that his enemies could not harm him at that point, so he decided to go to Jerusalem, or to assume a public profile after arriving there.
C. John MacArthur in the MacArthur Study Bible states: “My hour has not yet come. The phrase constantly refers to Jesus’ death and exaltation (7:30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; 13:1; 17:1). He was on a divine schedule decreed by God before the foundation of the world. Since the prophets characterized the messianic age as a time when wine would flow liberally (Jer. 31:12; Hos. 14:7; Amos 9:13, 14), Jesus was likely referring to the fact that the necessity of the cross must come before the blessings of the millennial age.”
I am not overly convinced by this explanation, to tell you the truth. I do not think that Jesus had to die and rise again before Israel could enjoy the blessings of the messianic age, for such blessings were evident in Jesus’ ministry before he died and rose again. In Matthew 11:5 and Luke 7:22, Jesus says that John the Baptist should have known that Jesus was the Messiah on account of the healings that Jesus was performing. Jesus in these passages may have had in mind such scriptures as Isaiah 35:6: “Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert.” But, if you only want to consider what is in John’s Gospel in interpreting John’s Gospel, even John’s Gospel implies that the blessings of the messianic age were occurring during Jesus’ ministry. In John 6:45, for example, Jesus applies the prophecy of Isaiah 54:13 that “they shall be all taught of God” to the people who were believing in him.
And yet, there is a sense in John’s Gospel that certain prophecies in the Hebrew Bible could not be fulfilled until after Jesus died and rose again. In John 7:38-39, we read (in the KJV): “He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. (But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given; because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)”
D. Derek Leman raised some considerations in his May 27, 2017 Daily Portion. Part of what he said is here.
Leman observes that John 10:11 states that Jesus manifested his glory at this first miracle in Cana of Galilee. Leman goes on to state:
“John interprets Yeshua’s nature miracles, such as turning water into wine, as the Messiah letting slip through the screen a bit of the divine glory that was his from the foundation of the world. Only the creator of water, of grape vines, can transmute matter in such an omnipotent manner. And Yeshua did not pray and ask God to perform the miracle. He apparently did it himself. He let slip his glory, allowing it to show through, for those who paid close attention, and thought deeply about such things. Of course, no one got it. No one understood until the revelation was made more obvious in the ascension and in later appearances of Yeshua from heaven, seated on the throne of heaven beside God.”
Leman later states:
“There is a mysterious indication that Mary knew Yeshua’s divine power, leading even very early in Christian history to speculation about miracles he may have worked in his youth (as in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas). The miracle is a sign fostering belief in his disciples, manifesting his Glory, his hidden identity (vs. 11)…Why does Yeshua feel this is not his business? The answer he gives is that it is ‘not yet my hour,’ meaning ‘my hour to be revealed as the hidden Glory revealed.’ That hour will be at his death and resurrection. Yet Mary is persistent and, as is often the case, Yeshua is willing in spite of his objection…Yeshua may have said his hour had not yet come to reveal his Glory, yet he fosters faith in advance of his hour with this sign and with others that will come. These signs lead to a greater understanding of the ultimate one, the resurrection.”
Leman is saying that Jesus, by turning the water into wine, was revealing his divine glory and power, and Jesus did not want to do that at that time because his death and resurrection were to be the occasions at which he revealed his divine glory.
There is much that Leman does not say here. Were Jesus’ other miracles occurrences in which Jesus reluctantly decided to reveal his divine glory?
A relevant consideration is that, in the Gospel of John, Jesus quite possibly does his miracles through the power of his Father. Jesus affirms in John 5:31-38 that the works that he is doing are the Father testifying that he sent Jesus. In John 14:10, Jesus states that the Father does the works. Perhaps the miracles that Jesus did in John’s Gospel are different from his turning of water into wine and his resurrection. When Jesus turned the water into wine, he did that miracle by his own power. Regarding his resurrection, Jesus implied in John 2:19-21 that he, Jesus, would raise up his own body after it is destroyed. The other miracles, by contrast, were done by the power of his Father.
Another consideration is that, throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus says that he is glorifying God, not self (John 8:50; 11:4, 40). In John 17:5, however, Jesus wants God to glorify him with the glory that he had before the foundation of the world. Presumably, this would occur at his resurrection. Were Jesus’ miracle of turning water into wine and rising from the dead incidents in which he demonstrated his inherent glory, whereas, in the other miracles, his focus was on the glory of his Father?
I do not know if this thesis consistently works throughout the Gospel of John. Just looking at John 17 itself, I see that Jesus’ hope is that the Father will glorify him. Does that imply that Jesus lacked inherent glory, at least before his resurrection (I wonder if I am approaching heresy here)? Or does it at least suggest that the glorification of Jesus at Jesus’ resurrection was the Father’s glorification of Jesus, not Jesus’ glorification of himself, which would go against what I argued above? And can we truly differentiate what Jesus does from what his Father does, since they were in each other (e.g., John 14:20)? Plus, are not Jesus’ glory and his Father’s glory intertwined?
I am open to correction on this, so I will leave the comments on. Be tactful, though! And, just to be clear, I am building on Derek Leman’s thoughts here, so don’t blame him for my conclusions.
Jesus’ statement that “mine hour is not yet come” intrigues me. The reason is that, throughout the Gospel of John, Jesus’ hour refers to the time of his crucifixion and resurrection (see 7:30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; 13:1; 17:1). But what does Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection have to do with his reluctance to change water into wine? “I don’t want to change water into wine right now, for my time to be crucified and resurrected has not come yet.” That doesn’t make much sense, does it?
In this post, I will interact with four attempts to solve this apparent problem. I will be drawing from this 2013 post, while also adding two interpretations that I recently encountered.
A. John Gill speculates that “it was not proper for him to work miracles as yet, lest it should provoke his enemies to seek his life before his time…” According to this interpretation, Jesus is essentially saying to Mary, “My hour to die is not yet come, so don’t pressure me to do something that might bring that about!” Maybe this explanation works. Perhaps Jesus in John 2:4 realized that the performance of his work was a delicate task: that he had to do things just right to get his message out. Jumping the gun by publicly turning the water into wine might puzzle or anger people prematurely, leading to his death, and thus he would not be able to say what he needed to say, when he needed to say it. Why, then, did Jesus turn the water into wine? Because he did so in a private, low-key manner, which would not attract premature attention.
And yet, not long after turning the water into wine, Jesus in John 2:13-25 cleansed the Temple of merchants and money-changers, criticizing them for making his Father’s house a house of merchandise. Jesus then told some of the Jews to destroy the Temple and Jesus would raise it up in three days, a statement that baffled them. Jesus also performed miracles in Jerusalem. Jesus was not afraid to be provocative, baffling, and confusing at the onset of his ministry. Why, then, did he think that turning water into wine was inappropriate, not long before that? Was he aware that the ministry that would lead to his death was about to start, and he was not in a hurry to start it? Did he want his ministry to be defined, not primarily in terms of miracles, but in terms of piety, and thus he wanted to start it with the cleansing of the Temple, not a miracle? Such a dim view of miracles does occur in the Gospel of John. In John 2:23-24, Jesus does not commit to people who believed in him on account of miracles that he did. In John 4:48, Jesus says with some frustration to a nobleman who wanted Jesus to heal his son, “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe.” In John 6:26-27, Jesus criticizes those who sought him for his miracles, specifically the multiplications of the loaves, encouraging them instead to seek the food that leads to eternal life.
B. Related to (A.), George Beasley-Murray in the Word Biblical Commentary on the Gospel of John states the following:
“In this Gospel the ‘hour’ of Jesus commonly denotes his death and glorification (see 7:30; 8:20; 13:1; 17:1). An immediate reference to that hour is scarcely thinkable in this context; it must relate to the service of the divine sovereignty on which Jesus now embarks, which will (as the Evangelist knows) culminate in the ‘lifting up’ on the cross. (If the saying was in the source it would clearly have related to the beginning of the redemptive ministry, and was interpreted by the Evangelist in the light of its end, since the ministry was an indivisible unity.) The import of the statement is to declare that Jesus’ service for the kingdom of God is determined solely by his Father; into that area not even his mother can intrude (cf. 7:3–9 and Mark 3:31–35, and see the excellent discussion of Schnackenburg, 1:327–31).”
In a way, Beasley-Murray interprets Jesus’ hour, not just in reference to Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, but also in reference to Jesus’ entire ministry, which would lead to Jesus’ crucifixion. And yet, Beasley-Murray’s reference to John 7:3-9 poses a problem for this interpretation. John 7:2-9 states:
“Now the Jews’ feast of tabernacles was at hand. His brethren therefore said unto him, Depart hence, and go into Judaea, that thy disciples also may see the works that thou doest. For there is no man that doeth any thing in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou do these things, shew thyself to the world. For neither did his brethren believe in him. Then Jesus said unto them, My time is not yet come: but your time is alway ready. The world cannot hate you; but me it hateth, because I testify of it, that the works thereof are evil. Go ye up unto this feast: I go not up yet unto this feast; for my time is not yet full come. When he had said these words unto them, he abode still in Galilee.”
John 7:2-9 takes place after Jesus started his ministry. And, after starting his ministry, Jesus is still saying that his time has not yet come. Can we, therefore, interpret Jesus’ ministry as part of his “hour”?
What is interesting, though, is that Jesus soon thereafter in John 7 goes to Jerusalem and assumes a public profile by teaching in the Temple and getting into an argument with Judean critics. Jesus probably realized that he was walking a fine line, or treading on delicate territory. Jesus did not want to bring about his death before his time, so he was hesitant at times to make a public appearance, lest that could provoke people to kill him. And yet, Jesus did not impose on himself inflexible guidelines, for he changed his mind and went to Jerusalem. John 7:30 states that Jesus’ enemies did not lay hands on him, as much as they wanted to do so, for Jesus’ hour had not yet come. Perhaps Jesus concluded, after some thought, that his enemies could not harm him at that point, so he decided to go to Jerusalem, or to assume a public profile after arriving there.
C. John MacArthur in the MacArthur Study Bible states: “My hour has not yet come. The phrase constantly refers to Jesus’ death and exaltation (7:30; 8:20; 12:23, 27; 13:1; 17:1). He was on a divine schedule decreed by God before the foundation of the world. Since the prophets characterized the messianic age as a time when wine would flow liberally (Jer. 31:12; Hos. 14:7; Amos 9:13, 14), Jesus was likely referring to the fact that the necessity of the cross must come before the blessings of the millennial age.”
I am not overly convinced by this explanation, to tell you the truth. I do not think that Jesus had to die and rise again before Israel could enjoy the blessings of the messianic age, for such blessings were evident in Jesus’ ministry before he died and rose again. In Matthew 11:5 and Luke 7:22, Jesus says that John the Baptist should have known that Jesus was the Messiah on account of the healings that Jesus was performing. Jesus in these passages may have had in mind such scriptures as Isaiah 35:6: “Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing: for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert.” But, if you only want to consider what is in John’s Gospel in interpreting John’s Gospel, even John’s Gospel implies that the blessings of the messianic age were occurring during Jesus’ ministry. In John 6:45, for example, Jesus applies the prophecy of Isaiah 54:13 that “they shall be all taught of God” to the people who were believing in him.
And yet, there is a sense in John’s Gospel that certain prophecies in the Hebrew Bible could not be fulfilled until after Jesus died and rose again. In John 7:38-39, we read (in the KJV): “He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. (But this spake he of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given; because that Jesus was not yet glorified.)”
D. Derek Leman raised some considerations in his May 27, 2017 Daily Portion. Part of what he said is here.
Leman observes that John 10:11 states that Jesus manifested his glory at this first miracle in Cana of Galilee. Leman goes on to state:
“John interprets Yeshua’s nature miracles, such as turning water into wine, as the Messiah letting slip through the screen a bit of the divine glory that was his from the foundation of the world. Only the creator of water, of grape vines, can transmute matter in such an omnipotent manner. And Yeshua did not pray and ask God to perform the miracle. He apparently did it himself. He let slip his glory, allowing it to show through, for those who paid close attention, and thought deeply about such things. Of course, no one got it. No one understood until the revelation was made more obvious in the ascension and in later appearances of Yeshua from heaven, seated on the throne of heaven beside God.”
Leman later states:
“There is a mysterious indication that Mary knew Yeshua’s divine power, leading even very early in Christian history to speculation about miracles he may have worked in his youth (as in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas). The miracle is a sign fostering belief in his disciples, manifesting his Glory, his hidden identity (vs. 11)…Why does Yeshua feel this is not his business? The answer he gives is that it is ‘not yet my hour,’ meaning ‘my hour to be revealed as the hidden Glory revealed.’ That hour will be at his death and resurrection. Yet Mary is persistent and, as is often the case, Yeshua is willing in spite of his objection…Yeshua may have said his hour had not yet come to reveal his Glory, yet he fosters faith in advance of his hour with this sign and with others that will come. These signs lead to a greater understanding of the ultimate one, the resurrection.”
Leman is saying that Jesus, by turning the water into wine, was revealing his divine glory and power, and Jesus did not want to do that at that time because his death and resurrection were to be the occasions at which he revealed his divine glory.
There is much that Leman does not say here. Were Jesus’ other miracles occurrences in which Jesus reluctantly decided to reveal his divine glory?
A relevant consideration is that, in the Gospel of John, Jesus quite possibly does his miracles through the power of his Father. Jesus affirms in John 5:31-38 that the works that he is doing are the Father testifying that he sent Jesus. In John 14:10, Jesus states that the Father does the works. Perhaps the miracles that Jesus did in John’s Gospel are different from his turning of water into wine and his resurrection. When Jesus turned the water into wine, he did that miracle by his own power. Regarding his resurrection, Jesus implied in John 2:19-21 that he, Jesus, would raise up his own body after it is destroyed. The other miracles, by contrast, were done by the power of his Father.
Another consideration is that, throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus says that he is glorifying God, not self (John 8:50; 11:4, 40). In John 17:5, however, Jesus wants God to glorify him with the glory that he had before the foundation of the world. Presumably, this would occur at his resurrection. Were Jesus’ miracle of turning water into wine and rising from the dead incidents in which he demonstrated his inherent glory, whereas, in the other miracles, his focus was on the glory of his Father?
I do not know if this thesis consistently works throughout the Gospel of John. Just looking at John 17 itself, I see that Jesus’ hope is that the Father will glorify him. Does that imply that Jesus lacked inherent glory, at least before his resurrection (I wonder if I am approaching heresy here)? Or does it at least suggest that the glorification of Jesus at Jesus’ resurrection was the Father’s glorification of Jesus, not Jesus’ glorification of himself, which would go against what I argued above? And can we truly differentiate what Jesus does from what his Father does, since they were in each other (e.g., John 14:20)? Plus, are not Jesus’ glory and his Father’s glory intertwined?
I am open to correction on this, so I will leave the comments on. Be tactful, though! And, just to be clear, I am building on Derek Leman’s thoughts here, so don’t blame him for my conclusions.
Sunday, May 28, 2017
Book Write-Up: The Dawn of Christianity, by Robert J. Hutchinson
Robert J. Hutchinson. The Dawn of Christianity: How God Used Simple Fisherman, Soldiers, and Prostitutes to Transform the World. Nelson Books, 2017. See here to purchase the book.
In The Dawn of Christianity, Robert J. Hutchinson covers the time from the last days of Jesus to the Jerusalem conference in Acts 15. Chapter 1 is somewhat of a novellization, but the remainder of the book has more of a tone that one would expect from a non-fiction historical book. Hutchinson tells the story of Jesus and the early church, while interspersing information about customs, cities, and figures of the time, as well as scholarly discoveries and controversies.
Here are some of my reactions to the book:
A. I am giving the book five stars, for reasons that I will explain below. Let me start, though, with a few critiques. For one, Hutchinson argues against the scholarly idea that Jesus predicted an imminent end of the world. Overall, his arguments were not particularly convincing (at least to me), and he did not entirely explain what Jesus meant when he preached about the Kingdom of God.
Mark 9:1 states that some standing there will not taste death before they see the Kingdom come with power. Hutchinson seems to argue that the Kingdom was already coming in power at that time, with the ministry of Jesus. On some level, that may be true, but is that what Jesus was talking about in Mark 9:1? Why would Jesus say that some standing there would not taste death before seeing the Kingdom, if he were discussing a Kingdom that was breaking out all around them? Hutchinson believes that Matthew 24:14, which states that the Gospel shall be preached to all the world before the end comes, precludes the possibility that Jesus envisioned an imminent end of the world, for the Gospel at the time was a long way off from being preached to all the world! And yet, Paul in Romans 10:18 and Colossians 1:6 (assuming Paul wrote Colossians) seems to suggest that the Gospel then had gone or was going to the entire world. Hutchinson states that certain Jesus Seminar scholars dispute that Jesus believed in an imminent end of the world, and yet he does not share that some of the Jesus Seminar scholars dismiss as secondary and non-authentic the apocalyptic parts of the Gospels. I doubt that Hutchinson embraces that kind of methodology!
Hutchinson tried to offer an idea of what Jesus meant by the Kingdom of God. He presented a picture of God offering forgiveness and people repenting, lives being changed, and people gathering together in groups in which Kingdom principles were practiced. The Kingdom of God arguably entails those things. And yet, on page 19, Hutchinson states that “Jesus saw himself, and was seen by others, as the long-promised Jewish Messiah, the divine Son of Man who was inaugurating a new era in human history—-and whose reign would threaten and ultimately destroy all the kings and warlords of the earth.” That sounds rather apocalyptic, perhaps imminently apocalyptic! (Well, there is that word “ultimately” there, but the statement still implies that eschatology was a significant aspect of Jesus’ identity and mission.)
This is not to suggest that all of Hutchinson’s discussion of this issue was lacking. I myself wonder if Bart Ehrman is correct in saying that Jesus envisioned an imminent divine destruction of the Romans, since Jesus hardly ever mentioned the Romans. Hutchinson had a pretty good response to Bart Ehrman’s arguments that Q has an imminent apocalyptic saying: Hutchinson noted that the saying includes Jesus’ statement that Christians will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man but will not see it (see Luke 17:22). As Hutchinson notes, that sounds like a delay in the Son of Man’s coming, not imminence. Hutchinson also recommended scholarly books on the topic. And the endnote about Dale Allison’s struggle with this issue was endearing. To quote Allison: “…a Jesus without eschatological error would certainly make my life easier…I might, for instance, be able to tell some of my relatives, without them shuddering aghast, what I really do for a living” (quoted from Allison, Resurrecting Jesus, p. 133).
B. There were a few factual errors. Hutchinson seemed to equate God-fearers with proselytes, when the two were not the same. He considered such Jewish dietary prohibitions as the ban on mixing meat and milk to be biblical, when it was post-biblical. Not that this necessarily counts as a “factual error,” but Hutchinson assumed that Isaiah 40 was written by Isaiah of Jerusalem, when many scholars believe it was written by Second Isaiah, who was a century later than Isaiah of Jerusalem. This was surprising to me, since Hutchinson is well-versed on scholarly debates.
C. Hutchinson generally believes in the historical reliability of the Gospels and the Book of Acts. This approach actually led to interesting discussions in this book, as when he suggested that there is plausibility in the Gospel portrayals of Pilate being reluctant to execute Jesus, even though Pilate is presented in non-biblical sources as quite ruthless. Hutchinson offered ways to reconcile these pictures. At the same time, Hutchinson was not rigid in defending biblical inerrancy. He thought that the Gospel of John’s timing of Jesus’ last meal and crucifixion makes more sense than that of the synoptics, for the Jewish establishment would not try Jesus on a Sabbath. (In an endnote, however, he refers to a scholarly argument that there were different ways to date the Passover at the time.) In discussion the question of whether the creed in I Corinthians 15:3-7 coincides with the Gospels, Hutchinson mentioned possible areas of overlaps (i.e., an early appearance to Peter), but also difficulties (i.e., the difficulty of assuming that Jesus’ appearance to the 500 is what Matthew 28 depicts).
D. I had a slight problem with Hutchinson’s implication that Jesus was on everyone’s radar: that everyone was thinking about Jesus (well, maybe that is overstating his argument, but he did seem to suggest that a lot of people in first century Palestine were thinking about Jesus). Hutchinson may just be following the Gospels here, since there are statements in the Gospels that state that Jesus was famous, or was unpopular with the Jewish establishment. I wonder why, if Jesus’ was on so many people’s radar, there is such a dearth of first-century non-Christian references to Jesus. Maybe my question is off-base: one could argue that there are major historical events that we only know about from one source, or that not all sources have survived. Maybe. The question still nags me, somewhat.
E. Hutchinson attempts to explain why the early Christian movement was controversial. He opts for Larry Hurtado’s suggestion that the early Christians were portraying Jesus as divine, on some level, and that was what many first century Jews did not like. Hutchinson refers to a few passages in Acts that he thinks may imply this. This discussion was rather brief, considering how significant the issue is: why do so many people in Acts hate the Christians so much? Yet, Hutchinson deserves credit for attempting to offer an explanation. (And, as Hutchinson notes, many Gentiles did not care for Christians turning people away from idols and, in turn, their business.)
F. I said above that “Hutchinson still tells the story of Jesus and the early church, while interspersing information about customs, cities, and figures of the time, as well as scholarly discoveries and controversies.” This is where the book shined! And Hutchinson did so in a compelling, lucid, and engaging manner: readers would not get caught up in a bunch of weeds (those were saved for the endnotes!), and the asides did not inhibit the story but often advanced it. There are many examples in this book, and I will not share all of them here. I will share one, though: I appreciated Hutchinson’s discussion of Herod Agrippa I. Herod Agrippa I became King of the Jews on account of his friendship with Caligula, so he had the authority to implement the death penalty, something that the Jewish authorities in Palestine often lacked under Roman rule. In the Book of Acts, he used that authority against early Christians. And yet, Josephus and rabbinic literature portray him as a pious man. But Josephus and the Book of Acts also talk about his demise, with overlapping details: both present him as dying soon after people were extolling him as a god! Okay, many who have read and studied the New Testament may already know this, but Hutchinson also shared some less-known scholarly controversies.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through BookLook Bloggers. My review is honest!
In The Dawn of Christianity, Robert J. Hutchinson covers the time from the last days of Jesus to the Jerusalem conference in Acts 15. Chapter 1 is somewhat of a novellization, but the remainder of the book has more of a tone that one would expect from a non-fiction historical book. Hutchinson tells the story of Jesus and the early church, while interspersing information about customs, cities, and figures of the time, as well as scholarly discoveries and controversies.
Here are some of my reactions to the book:
A. I am giving the book five stars, for reasons that I will explain below. Let me start, though, with a few critiques. For one, Hutchinson argues against the scholarly idea that Jesus predicted an imminent end of the world. Overall, his arguments were not particularly convincing (at least to me), and he did not entirely explain what Jesus meant when he preached about the Kingdom of God.
Mark 9:1 states that some standing there will not taste death before they see the Kingdom come with power. Hutchinson seems to argue that the Kingdom was already coming in power at that time, with the ministry of Jesus. On some level, that may be true, but is that what Jesus was talking about in Mark 9:1? Why would Jesus say that some standing there would not taste death before seeing the Kingdom, if he were discussing a Kingdom that was breaking out all around them? Hutchinson believes that Matthew 24:14, which states that the Gospel shall be preached to all the world before the end comes, precludes the possibility that Jesus envisioned an imminent end of the world, for the Gospel at the time was a long way off from being preached to all the world! And yet, Paul in Romans 10:18 and Colossians 1:6 (assuming Paul wrote Colossians) seems to suggest that the Gospel then had gone or was going to the entire world. Hutchinson states that certain Jesus Seminar scholars dispute that Jesus believed in an imminent end of the world, and yet he does not share that some of the Jesus Seminar scholars dismiss as secondary and non-authentic the apocalyptic parts of the Gospels. I doubt that Hutchinson embraces that kind of methodology!
Hutchinson tried to offer an idea of what Jesus meant by the Kingdom of God. He presented a picture of God offering forgiveness and people repenting, lives being changed, and people gathering together in groups in which Kingdom principles were practiced. The Kingdom of God arguably entails those things. And yet, on page 19, Hutchinson states that “Jesus saw himself, and was seen by others, as the long-promised Jewish Messiah, the divine Son of Man who was inaugurating a new era in human history—-and whose reign would threaten and ultimately destroy all the kings and warlords of the earth.” That sounds rather apocalyptic, perhaps imminently apocalyptic! (Well, there is that word “ultimately” there, but the statement still implies that eschatology was a significant aspect of Jesus’ identity and mission.)
This is not to suggest that all of Hutchinson’s discussion of this issue was lacking. I myself wonder if Bart Ehrman is correct in saying that Jesus envisioned an imminent divine destruction of the Romans, since Jesus hardly ever mentioned the Romans. Hutchinson had a pretty good response to Bart Ehrman’s arguments that Q has an imminent apocalyptic saying: Hutchinson noted that the saying includes Jesus’ statement that Christians will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man but will not see it (see Luke 17:22). As Hutchinson notes, that sounds like a delay in the Son of Man’s coming, not imminence. Hutchinson also recommended scholarly books on the topic. And the endnote about Dale Allison’s struggle with this issue was endearing. To quote Allison: “…a Jesus without eschatological error would certainly make my life easier…I might, for instance, be able to tell some of my relatives, without them shuddering aghast, what I really do for a living” (quoted from Allison, Resurrecting Jesus, p. 133).
B. There were a few factual errors. Hutchinson seemed to equate God-fearers with proselytes, when the two were not the same. He considered such Jewish dietary prohibitions as the ban on mixing meat and milk to be biblical, when it was post-biblical. Not that this necessarily counts as a “factual error,” but Hutchinson assumed that Isaiah 40 was written by Isaiah of Jerusalem, when many scholars believe it was written by Second Isaiah, who was a century later than Isaiah of Jerusalem. This was surprising to me, since Hutchinson is well-versed on scholarly debates.
C. Hutchinson generally believes in the historical reliability of the Gospels and the Book of Acts. This approach actually led to interesting discussions in this book, as when he suggested that there is plausibility in the Gospel portrayals of Pilate being reluctant to execute Jesus, even though Pilate is presented in non-biblical sources as quite ruthless. Hutchinson offered ways to reconcile these pictures. At the same time, Hutchinson was not rigid in defending biblical inerrancy. He thought that the Gospel of John’s timing of Jesus’ last meal and crucifixion makes more sense than that of the synoptics, for the Jewish establishment would not try Jesus on a Sabbath. (In an endnote, however, he refers to a scholarly argument that there were different ways to date the Passover at the time.) In discussion the question of whether the creed in I Corinthians 15:3-7 coincides with the Gospels, Hutchinson mentioned possible areas of overlaps (i.e., an early appearance to Peter), but also difficulties (i.e., the difficulty of assuming that Jesus’ appearance to the 500 is what Matthew 28 depicts).
D. I had a slight problem with Hutchinson’s implication that Jesus was on everyone’s radar: that everyone was thinking about Jesus (well, maybe that is overstating his argument, but he did seem to suggest that a lot of people in first century Palestine were thinking about Jesus). Hutchinson may just be following the Gospels here, since there are statements in the Gospels that state that Jesus was famous, or was unpopular with the Jewish establishment. I wonder why, if Jesus’ was on so many people’s radar, there is such a dearth of first-century non-Christian references to Jesus. Maybe my question is off-base: one could argue that there are major historical events that we only know about from one source, or that not all sources have survived. Maybe. The question still nags me, somewhat.
E. Hutchinson attempts to explain why the early Christian movement was controversial. He opts for Larry Hurtado’s suggestion that the early Christians were portraying Jesus as divine, on some level, and that was what many first century Jews did not like. Hutchinson refers to a few passages in Acts that he thinks may imply this. This discussion was rather brief, considering how significant the issue is: why do so many people in Acts hate the Christians so much? Yet, Hutchinson deserves credit for attempting to offer an explanation. (And, as Hutchinson notes, many Gentiles did not care for Christians turning people away from idols and, in turn, their business.)
F. I said above that “Hutchinson still tells the story of Jesus and the early church, while interspersing information about customs, cities, and figures of the time, as well as scholarly discoveries and controversies.” This is where the book shined! And Hutchinson did so in a compelling, lucid, and engaging manner: readers would not get caught up in a bunch of weeds (those were saved for the endnotes!), and the asides did not inhibit the story but often advanced it. There are many examples in this book, and I will not share all of them here. I will share one, though: I appreciated Hutchinson’s discussion of Herod Agrippa I. Herod Agrippa I became King of the Jews on account of his friendship with Caligula, so he had the authority to implement the death penalty, something that the Jewish authorities in Palestine often lacked under Roman rule. In the Book of Acts, he used that authority against early Christians. And yet, Josephus and rabbinic literature portray him as a pious man. But Josephus and the Book of Acts also talk about his demise, with overlapping details: both present him as dying soon after people were extolling him as a god! Okay, many who have read and studied the New Testament may already know this, but Hutchinson also shared some less-known scholarly controversies.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through BookLook Bloggers. My review is honest!
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Book Write-Up: Paul the Apostle, by Robert E. Picirilli
Robert E. Picirilli. Paul the Apostle: Missionary, Martyr, Theologian. Chicago: Moody, 1986, 2017. See here to purchase the book.
In Paul the Apostle: Missionary, Martyr, Theologian, scholar Robert E. Picirilli goes through the life of the apostle Paul.
Picirilli starts with Paul’s background in Tarsus. Some of Picirilli’s discussion about Paul there was speculative, yet it was informed by historical information. Picirilli talked about the sort of city that Tarsus was and how that made Paul a suitable vessel for God’s missionary purposes. Since the Book of Acts says that Paul was a Roman citizen, Picirilli discusses how people became Roman citizens in those days, what being a Roman citizen entailed, and the relationship of Tyre to Rome. And, of course, Picirilli is informed by the Scriptures. Although Tyre was a Hellenistic place, Paul was a Pharisee, according to Philippians 3:5.
Next, Picirilli goes into Paul’s conversion. A salient aspect of this section is the critical questions that Picirilli addresses. How could the high priests have authority to persecute Christians in Damascus, which was outside their jurisdiction? How should we understand the apparent contradiction in Acts over whether the people around Saul heard the voice or saw the light when Jesus appeared to him (Acts 9:7; 22:9)? Can we fit Paul’s trip to Arabia (Galatians 1:17) into the events in Acts? Picirilli largely assumes the historicity of Acts and uses that as a frame for his narrative about Paul’s life.
Picirilli then discusses Paul’s epistles. He maintains that Paul wrote all of the New Testament epistles attributed to him and addresses scholarly arguments to the contrary. Picirilli wrestles with options about when Paul could have written certain epistles. He discusses what sort of city Corinth was, the question of whether Paul wrote to North Galatia or South Galatia, various traditions about whether Paul reached Spain, and what slavery was like. Occasionally, Picirilli talks about the theological and religious content of the epistles. For example, Picirilli speculates that the Book of Colossians rarely mentions the Holy Spirit because it does not want the Spirit to detract from Christ. The letter, after all, is responding to a heresy that treated Christ as merely one facet of the divine among many.
In the course of the book, Picirilli offers historical asides. After reading his brief narrative about Felix, one can see why Felix was disturbed by Paul’s sermon about righteousness, temperance, and the coming judgment (Acts 24:25)!
In terms of positives, the book was informative, especially when it came to historical background. It manifested a humble tone when it engaged other points of view, though Picirilli could be a bit saucy, every now and then. While Picirilli maintained a rather harmonizing approach towards the biblical text, he sounded like a reasonable person, not as someone trying to stretch things to make his argument fit. I also appreciated his references to J. Gresham Machen’s work on Paul.
In terms of negatives, the book could have used more religious and theological content, not only regarding Paul’s epistles, but also regarding such questions as the religious motivations that Hellenistic Jews and Saul of Tarsus had when they persecuted the early Christians. While many may find Picirilli’s discussions on when Paul wrote to be useful, they were dry, in places.
Would this book be a good introduction to students about the apostle Paul? On such topics as historical context and scholarly ideas about the authorship of the epistles, I would say yes. On theological and religious questions, however, I think students should look for a supplement.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
In Paul the Apostle: Missionary, Martyr, Theologian, scholar Robert E. Picirilli goes through the life of the apostle Paul.
Picirilli starts with Paul’s background in Tarsus. Some of Picirilli’s discussion about Paul there was speculative, yet it was informed by historical information. Picirilli talked about the sort of city that Tarsus was and how that made Paul a suitable vessel for God’s missionary purposes. Since the Book of Acts says that Paul was a Roman citizen, Picirilli discusses how people became Roman citizens in those days, what being a Roman citizen entailed, and the relationship of Tyre to Rome. And, of course, Picirilli is informed by the Scriptures. Although Tyre was a Hellenistic place, Paul was a Pharisee, according to Philippians 3:5.
Next, Picirilli goes into Paul’s conversion. A salient aspect of this section is the critical questions that Picirilli addresses. How could the high priests have authority to persecute Christians in Damascus, which was outside their jurisdiction? How should we understand the apparent contradiction in Acts over whether the people around Saul heard the voice or saw the light when Jesus appeared to him (Acts 9:7; 22:9)? Can we fit Paul’s trip to Arabia (Galatians 1:17) into the events in Acts? Picirilli largely assumes the historicity of Acts and uses that as a frame for his narrative about Paul’s life.
Picirilli then discusses Paul’s epistles. He maintains that Paul wrote all of the New Testament epistles attributed to him and addresses scholarly arguments to the contrary. Picirilli wrestles with options about when Paul could have written certain epistles. He discusses what sort of city Corinth was, the question of whether Paul wrote to North Galatia or South Galatia, various traditions about whether Paul reached Spain, and what slavery was like. Occasionally, Picirilli talks about the theological and religious content of the epistles. For example, Picirilli speculates that the Book of Colossians rarely mentions the Holy Spirit because it does not want the Spirit to detract from Christ. The letter, after all, is responding to a heresy that treated Christ as merely one facet of the divine among many.
In the course of the book, Picirilli offers historical asides. After reading his brief narrative about Felix, one can see why Felix was disturbed by Paul’s sermon about righteousness, temperance, and the coming judgment (Acts 24:25)!
In terms of positives, the book was informative, especially when it came to historical background. It manifested a humble tone when it engaged other points of view, though Picirilli could be a bit saucy, every now and then. While Picirilli maintained a rather harmonizing approach towards the biblical text, he sounded like a reasonable person, not as someone trying to stretch things to make his argument fit. I also appreciated his references to J. Gresham Machen’s work on Paul.
In terms of negatives, the book could have used more religious and theological content, not only regarding Paul’s epistles, but also regarding such questions as the religious motivations that Hellenistic Jews and Saul of Tarsus had when they persecuted the early Christians. While many may find Picirilli’s discussions on when Paul wrote to be useful, they were dry, in places.
Would this book be a good introduction to students about the apostle Paul? On such topics as historical context and scholarly ideas about the authorship of the epistles, I would say yes. On theological and religious questions, however, I think students should look for a supplement.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
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Bible
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Book Write-Up: The Meaning of the Pentateuch, by John H. Sailhamer
John H. Sailhamer. The Meaning of the Pentateuch: Revelation, Composition and Interpretation. IVP Academic, 2009. See here to purchase the book.
The late John Sailhamer taught Old Testament at Golden Gate Baptist Theological Seminary in Brea, California.
In the Meaning of the Pentateuch, Sailhamer makes a variety of points about the Pentateuch. They include (but are not limited to) the following:
—-Sailhamer argues that a version of the Pentateuch was written by Moses, who used different sources. Later, the Pentateuch underwent an eschatological update. Parts were added that stressed the coming of a Messianic king of Israel in the last days. This king of Israel would defeat Israel’s enemies, inaugurate paradise, and bless the nations. Sailhamer believes that such themes were latent in the original Pentateuch, but that the additions emphasized them and made them clearer.
—-According to Sailhamer, canonizers played a role in the Pentateuch’s eschatological orientation, as well as that of the Hebrew Bible. The Pentateuch ends with Israel not yet in the Promised Land, and that is because the Jewish people during the time of this canonization are still awaiting the Messianic, eschatological restoration of Israel to, and in, her land. The same goes with the Hebrew Bible, which ends with II Chronicles, with Israel still in exile, and yet hope is on the horizon. At the same time, Sailhamer maintains that there were different communities with different canons: some communities preferred to end the Hebrew Bible with II Chronicles, giving the Hebrew Bible an eschatological focus that anticipated a future restoration from exile. At least one community, however, ended the Hebrew Bible with Ezra-Nehemiah. This gave the Hebrew Bible a historical focus, which maintained that the fulfillment of Israel’s restoration from exile occurred historically under Ezra and Nehemiah. Sailhamer holds that this difference of opinion can also be discerned in different versions of the Book of Jeremiah.
—-Sailhamer maintains that the Pentateuch is not about obeying rules but is about faith. Trust in God is a recurring theme in the Pentateuch (i.e., Abraham believes God, the Israelite spies did not have faith in God). According to Sailhamer, God in the Pentateuch desired a direct relationship with Israel. Israel would be a priesthood and would hear from God directly, and she would have few rules to follow. But Israel feared hearing directly from God and requested a mediator, and she kept sinning. Aaron helped Israel to construct the Golden Calf, and Israelites worshiped goat demons. God then gave more laws to provide Israel with discipline, restraint, and guidance. The Tabernacle would provide a system of mediation, the levitical laws would keep the priests on the straight and narrow, and the Holiness Code would guide individual Israelites. For Sailhamer, this structure of the Pentateuch (and he seems to believe this is part of the original Pentateuch) anticipates the new covenant, in which God would write God’s laws on the Israelites’ hearts (Jeremiah 31:31-34). Sailhamer argues that parts of the Book of Jeremiah support this picture of God giving Israel more laws in response to Israel’s sins, and he also refers to New Testament and patristic views to that effect.
—-Sailhamer defends certain Christian interpretations of the Hebrew Bible. When Paul in Galatians 3:16 states that God made the promises to Abraham’s seed (Christ, according to Paul), not Abraham’s seeds, did Paul fail to realize that “seed” is a collective noun? When Matthew 2:15 applies Hosea 11:1 (“Out of Egypt I have called my son”) to Jesus coming from Egypt, did Matthew not notice that Hosea 11:1 is about Israel coming out of Egypt? Is Isaiah 7:14 eschatological or Messianic, as Matthew 1:23 seems to suggest, or does it concern an event in the seventh century B.C.E.? Sailhamer wrestles with difficult questions and offers important insights: that there is an individual, kingly seed in the Hebrew Bible who blesses the nations, and that Numbers 24:7-8 can be interpreted to mean that God will bring the king of Israel out of Egypt. In my opinion, he was not as convincing on Isaiah 7:14. While he may be correct that Isaiah 7:14 has a larger eschatological significance in the Book of Isaiah, it still seems to be a sign about events in the seventh century B.C.E.
—-While Sailhamer defends Christian interpretations of the Hebrew Bible, he is unhappy with the tendency of many Christians to treat the Hebrew Bible primarily as a prophecy about Christ, or as a promise about Christ’s coming. In his mind, such an approach implies that the Hebrew Bible is useless now that Christ has come. Sailhamer believes that the Hebrew Bible still enlightens and informs, and that it provides a context for the New Testament. For Sailhamer, the Hebrew Bible’s focus is not so much on prediction as it is on elucidating God’s will and ways.
—-Sailhamer contends that there is a shift towards individual piety in the course of the Hebrew Bible. Deuteronomy 15:1 commands that the Israelites are to hear the Torah every seven years. By contrast, Joshua 1:8, which marks the “Prophets” section of the Hebrew Bible, and Psalm 1, which marks the “Writings” section, exhort individuals to meditate on the Torah day and night. Sailhamer refers to a scholarly argument that the Book of Psalms was intended for individual piety, and he presents a picture of exilic and post-exilic Jews as literate. Sailhamer also maintains that the song in Exodus 15 presents a picture of individual praise of God.
—-Sailhamer made intriguing points and addressed questions that I have had. What did Noah mean when he predicted that Japheth would dwell in the tents of Shem (Genesis 9:27)? Sailhamer answers that in reference to the identification of their descendants in Genesis 10 as well as the Book of Daniel, relating it to Rome and Greece’s dominion over Assyria, Babylon, and Israel. Did Noah end God’s curse of the earth (Genesis 5:29)? If so, why does the ground still produce thorns? According to Sailhamer, Noah, by sacrificing after the Flood, encouraged God to bless the earth. Sailhamer also notes that, prior to the Abrahamic and Sinaitic covenants, the Hebrew hero (Abraham and Moses) had contact with a Gentile (Melchizedek and Jethro). Sailhamer commented some on the significance of this, but he could have commented more; most of the time, he had the opposite problem, repeating points he had already made—-sometimes the exact same arguments and quotations.
Now for my assessment:
—-Sailhamer argued robustly for his positions. He did not merely assume that certain passages in the Pentateuch are eschatological, as some evangelical scholars do, but he actually set out to defend his positions and to address challenging questions. His argument that there was a later eschatological update to the Pentateuch is plausible, even though I would not be too quick to acknowledge that the Pentateuchal writings were originally eschatological.
—-Sailhamer focuses on Judah in his interaction with Genesis 49. Genesis 49 can be translated to concern the last days, and it talks about a Judahite king, whom Sailhamer interprets as the Messiah. But Jacob in Genesis 49 talks about the other Israelite tribes as well. How do they fit into the last days? Many Jewish interpreters have interpreted Genesis 49 in reference to events in Israel’s history: the judge and serpent Dan in vv 16-17 has been interpreted as Samson, for instance. They have also maintained that the phrase translated as “last days” actually means coming days, which is not necessarily eschatological. (Sailhamer acknowledges that as a possible translation but rejects it, thinking that the eschatological interpretation of the phrase makes more sense, in terms of the structure of the Pentateuch.) A possible challenge to Sailhamer’s interpretation of Genesis 49 as eschatological occurs in v 7. Jacob predicts that Simeon and Levi will be scattered in Israel. That happened historically, but, after Israel’s eschatological restoration, Simeon and Levi will receive land in Israel, according to Ezekiel 48. How would Sailhamer interpret such details of Genesis 49, from an eschatological standpoint?
—-Did exilic and post-exilic Jews really possess their own copies of the Torah, as in their own scrolls? That is not usually the picture that I have gotten from academics, but I am open to correction.
—-Sailhamer interprets Numbers 24:7-8 to concern the Messiah coming out of Egypt. Are there any post-biblical Jewish sources that manifest such an expectation, though? If canonizers updated the Pentateuch to include such an expectation, would we have seen it in other Jewish sources? More engagement with post-biblical Jewish sources may have helped Sailhamer’s case (or not).
—-As I said above, Sailhamer was repetitive when it came to certain points. That did help me absorb the points, but did he have to, say, quote Jamieson-Faussett-Brown’s statement that Moses used sources three times? The conclusion did a good job tying things together, especially when it related Sailhamer’s discussion of methodology and evaluation of evangelical scholarship to Sailhamer’s own methodology and project. Still, an appendix in which Sailhamer laid out the passages that he believed were the original Pentateuch, and the passages that he considered to be the later additions, would have been helpful.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
The late John Sailhamer taught Old Testament at Golden Gate Baptist Theological Seminary in Brea, California.
In the Meaning of the Pentateuch, Sailhamer makes a variety of points about the Pentateuch. They include (but are not limited to) the following:
—-Sailhamer argues that a version of the Pentateuch was written by Moses, who used different sources. Later, the Pentateuch underwent an eschatological update. Parts were added that stressed the coming of a Messianic king of Israel in the last days. This king of Israel would defeat Israel’s enemies, inaugurate paradise, and bless the nations. Sailhamer believes that such themes were latent in the original Pentateuch, but that the additions emphasized them and made them clearer.
—-According to Sailhamer, canonizers played a role in the Pentateuch’s eschatological orientation, as well as that of the Hebrew Bible. The Pentateuch ends with Israel not yet in the Promised Land, and that is because the Jewish people during the time of this canonization are still awaiting the Messianic, eschatological restoration of Israel to, and in, her land. The same goes with the Hebrew Bible, which ends with II Chronicles, with Israel still in exile, and yet hope is on the horizon. At the same time, Sailhamer maintains that there were different communities with different canons: some communities preferred to end the Hebrew Bible with II Chronicles, giving the Hebrew Bible an eschatological focus that anticipated a future restoration from exile. At least one community, however, ended the Hebrew Bible with Ezra-Nehemiah. This gave the Hebrew Bible a historical focus, which maintained that the fulfillment of Israel’s restoration from exile occurred historically under Ezra and Nehemiah. Sailhamer holds that this difference of opinion can also be discerned in different versions of the Book of Jeremiah.
—-Sailhamer maintains that the Pentateuch is not about obeying rules but is about faith. Trust in God is a recurring theme in the Pentateuch (i.e., Abraham believes God, the Israelite spies did not have faith in God). According to Sailhamer, God in the Pentateuch desired a direct relationship with Israel. Israel would be a priesthood and would hear from God directly, and she would have few rules to follow. But Israel feared hearing directly from God and requested a mediator, and she kept sinning. Aaron helped Israel to construct the Golden Calf, and Israelites worshiped goat demons. God then gave more laws to provide Israel with discipline, restraint, and guidance. The Tabernacle would provide a system of mediation, the levitical laws would keep the priests on the straight and narrow, and the Holiness Code would guide individual Israelites. For Sailhamer, this structure of the Pentateuch (and he seems to believe this is part of the original Pentateuch) anticipates the new covenant, in which God would write God’s laws on the Israelites’ hearts (Jeremiah 31:31-34). Sailhamer argues that parts of the Book of Jeremiah support this picture of God giving Israel more laws in response to Israel’s sins, and he also refers to New Testament and patristic views to that effect.
—-Sailhamer defends certain Christian interpretations of the Hebrew Bible. When Paul in Galatians 3:16 states that God made the promises to Abraham’s seed (Christ, according to Paul), not Abraham’s seeds, did Paul fail to realize that “seed” is a collective noun? When Matthew 2:15 applies Hosea 11:1 (“Out of Egypt I have called my son”) to Jesus coming from Egypt, did Matthew not notice that Hosea 11:1 is about Israel coming out of Egypt? Is Isaiah 7:14 eschatological or Messianic, as Matthew 1:23 seems to suggest, or does it concern an event in the seventh century B.C.E.? Sailhamer wrestles with difficult questions and offers important insights: that there is an individual, kingly seed in the Hebrew Bible who blesses the nations, and that Numbers 24:7-8 can be interpreted to mean that God will bring the king of Israel out of Egypt. In my opinion, he was not as convincing on Isaiah 7:14. While he may be correct that Isaiah 7:14 has a larger eschatological significance in the Book of Isaiah, it still seems to be a sign about events in the seventh century B.C.E.
—-While Sailhamer defends Christian interpretations of the Hebrew Bible, he is unhappy with the tendency of many Christians to treat the Hebrew Bible primarily as a prophecy about Christ, or as a promise about Christ’s coming. In his mind, such an approach implies that the Hebrew Bible is useless now that Christ has come. Sailhamer believes that the Hebrew Bible still enlightens and informs, and that it provides a context for the New Testament. For Sailhamer, the Hebrew Bible’s focus is not so much on prediction as it is on elucidating God’s will and ways.
—-Sailhamer contends that there is a shift towards individual piety in the course of the Hebrew Bible. Deuteronomy 15:1 commands that the Israelites are to hear the Torah every seven years. By contrast, Joshua 1:8, which marks the “Prophets” section of the Hebrew Bible, and Psalm 1, which marks the “Writings” section, exhort individuals to meditate on the Torah day and night. Sailhamer refers to a scholarly argument that the Book of Psalms was intended for individual piety, and he presents a picture of exilic and post-exilic Jews as literate. Sailhamer also maintains that the song in Exodus 15 presents a picture of individual praise of God.
—-Sailhamer made intriguing points and addressed questions that I have had. What did Noah mean when he predicted that Japheth would dwell in the tents of Shem (Genesis 9:27)? Sailhamer answers that in reference to the identification of their descendants in Genesis 10 as well as the Book of Daniel, relating it to Rome and Greece’s dominion over Assyria, Babylon, and Israel. Did Noah end God’s curse of the earth (Genesis 5:29)? If so, why does the ground still produce thorns? According to Sailhamer, Noah, by sacrificing after the Flood, encouraged God to bless the earth. Sailhamer also notes that, prior to the Abrahamic and Sinaitic covenants, the Hebrew hero (Abraham and Moses) had contact with a Gentile (Melchizedek and Jethro). Sailhamer commented some on the significance of this, but he could have commented more; most of the time, he had the opposite problem, repeating points he had already made—-sometimes the exact same arguments and quotations.
Now for my assessment:
—-Sailhamer argued robustly for his positions. He did not merely assume that certain passages in the Pentateuch are eschatological, as some evangelical scholars do, but he actually set out to defend his positions and to address challenging questions. His argument that there was a later eschatological update to the Pentateuch is plausible, even though I would not be too quick to acknowledge that the Pentateuchal writings were originally eschatological.
—-Sailhamer focuses on Judah in his interaction with Genesis 49. Genesis 49 can be translated to concern the last days, and it talks about a Judahite king, whom Sailhamer interprets as the Messiah. But Jacob in Genesis 49 talks about the other Israelite tribes as well. How do they fit into the last days? Many Jewish interpreters have interpreted Genesis 49 in reference to events in Israel’s history: the judge and serpent Dan in vv 16-17 has been interpreted as Samson, for instance. They have also maintained that the phrase translated as “last days” actually means coming days, which is not necessarily eschatological. (Sailhamer acknowledges that as a possible translation but rejects it, thinking that the eschatological interpretation of the phrase makes more sense, in terms of the structure of the Pentateuch.) A possible challenge to Sailhamer’s interpretation of Genesis 49 as eschatological occurs in v 7. Jacob predicts that Simeon and Levi will be scattered in Israel. That happened historically, but, after Israel’s eschatological restoration, Simeon and Levi will receive land in Israel, according to Ezekiel 48. How would Sailhamer interpret such details of Genesis 49, from an eschatological standpoint?
—-Did exilic and post-exilic Jews really possess their own copies of the Torah, as in their own scrolls? That is not usually the picture that I have gotten from academics, but I am open to correction.
—-Sailhamer interprets Numbers 24:7-8 to concern the Messiah coming out of Egypt. Are there any post-biblical Jewish sources that manifest such an expectation, though? If canonizers updated the Pentateuch to include such an expectation, would we have seen it in other Jewish sources? More engagement with post-biblical Jewish sources may have helped Sailhamer’s case (or not).
—-As I said above, Sailhamer was repetitive when it came to certain points. That did help me absorb the points, but did he have to, say, quote Jamieson-Faussett-Brown’s statement that Moses used sources three times? The conclusion did a good job tying things together, especially when it related Sailhamer’s discussion of methodology and evaluation of evangelical scholarship to Sailhamer’s own methodology and project. Still, an appendix in which Sailhamer laid out the passages that he believed were the original Pentateuch, and the passages that he considered to be the later additions, would have been helpful.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
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Bible
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
Book Write-Up: Confucius' Analects
I recently read Confucius’ Analects. Specifically, I read the
Penguin Classics version, for which D.C. Lau was the translator. Lau
also provided an informative introduction.
Here are some of my thoughts:
A. I will quote a paragraph from the back cover because that paragraph provides a cogent summary of Confucius’ thought. I did read the entire book, though!
“‘How dare I claim to be a sage or a benevolent man?’
“By constructing the philosophy expressed through The Analects, Confucius might well dare to make such a claim. The Analects are a collection of Confucius’ saying, compiled by his pupils shortly after his death in 497 B.C., and they reflect the extent to which Confucius held up a moral ideal for all men. The aim is the perfection of one’s moral character, the method one of arduous pursuit of such moral attributes as benevolence, wisdom, courage; the result is no recompense in this life or the next—-to follow the Way must be its own reward. A harsh philosophy perhaps, but shining through it is the splendid intellect and spirit of one of the most reasonable and humane thinkers of all time.”
B. The Analects remind me of the biblical Book of Proverbs. Proverbs instructs people about how to impress authorities and the importance of being humble. As the summary above says, Confucius believed that people should follow the Way, even if they do not receive a reward in this life or the hereafter. Yet, the Analects do contain a measure of “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” (not a quotation): a belief that following certain rules can bring a person advancement. There is also a notion that, when the Way is prevalent in society, adherents to the Way should be prospering. But there is also a belief in contentment where one is, as one is nourished by the Way itself and finds a home therein.
C. An idea that appears more than once in The Analects is that a ruler can bring out the best in his subjects by being good and compassionate rather than attempting to inspire fear. A ruler is to be concerned about the well-being of his subjects, whatever their stations in life, and Confucius also supported trying to reform convicts rather than hastily executing them. As I read these passages, I was comparing them with the biblical portrayal of God. Throughout the Hebrew Bible, God rules people benevolently, yet they respond with stubborn disobedience; the Bible appears more pessimistic than Confucius about human nature. God also rules through fear, in a sense, since the Torah in the Hebrew Bible prescribes the death penalty for all sorts of offenses, and the prophets forecast woes as divine punishment for disobedience. In the New Testament, beliefs about human stubbornness in the face of divine benevolence as well as divine retribution persist, yet there is also a notion that the law, with its condemnations, is a dead end in terms of encouraging people to change, so now God focuses on grace.
D. I was comparing Confucius’ political philosophy with God’s governance according to the Bible, but what was Confucius’ theology? Did he regard the divine realm as benevolent? There is a passage in The Analects that states that Confucius did not discuss the gods. Although Confucius does not present a theology, there are still assumptions about the gods in The Analects. There are gods in heaven and below. People should sacrifice to these gods, and sometimes this occurs at mealtimes. People can displease Heaven, in which case they have nowhere to go with their prayers. Overall, they should keep a respectful distance from the gods. You would think that Confucius saw the gods as beings to appease, not so much as the embodiment of virtue. Yet, Confucius states at one point that Heaven placed virtue within him.
E. Another theme that recurs in The Analects is the importance of rites, which include sacrifices to the gods, honoring ancestors, and civic rituals. For Confucius, the rites ground people in the essentials. They humble those who are of high station. In the Gospels of the New Testament, Jesus accuses scribes and Pharisees of legalism: of being rigorous in observing rites of the Torah while missing the point on such vital principles as justice and compassion. The apostle Paul believed that the Torah served a purpose at one stage of God’s plan but with the coming of Jesus has been superseded, at least partially. In The Analects, Confucius was sensitive to such concerns, within his own context. In places, Confucius seemed to maintain that literal observance of the rites were not enough, that motivation and character were important. Observing the rites in an obsequious manner was not the proper path, for Confucius. Confucius also held that there could be flexibility in observing the rites and following the Way, since historical contexts and situations varied over time.
F. In some places, Confucius could be quite rigid: be courageous! In other places, though, he recognizes human flaws and foibles, both his own and those of his disciples. He realizes that he is a work in progress. But he also acknowledges what he believes to be his strengths. Moreover, his compassion and mercy notwithstanding, he only spends his time teaching students who are willing to learn, and who demonstrate that willingness by trying to figure things out on their own. Confucius’ disciples varied in their level of character and aptitude: some mastered virtue quickly, some missed the point at times and needed correction, and some failed to think before speaking or acting. In the synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ disciples often did not understand what Jesus was saying. The agenda behind the portrayal of a master’s disciples may be an interesting topic to research.
G. I put a question mark beside some of Confucius’ statements. I had to think about them, and sometimes I hit a dead end. One passage that I contemplated is 4:3: “The Master said, ‘It is only the benevolent man who is capable of liking or disliking other men.” How so? The conclusion I reached was that, when we are benevolent, we judge people according to their character, how they are. We like or dislike them, in short. When we lack benevolence, by contrast, we value them according to how well they benefit us. We are not liking or disliking them, per se, but rather are focusing on our own benefit. I could be wrong on this, but that was my way of trying to make sense of what Confucius said there.
Here are some of my thoughts:
A. I will quote a paragraph from the back cover because that paragraph provides a cogent summary of Confucius’ thought. I did read the entire book, though!
“‘How dare I claim to be a sage or a benevolent man?’
“By constructing the philosophy expressed through The Analects, Confucius might well dare to make such a claim. The Analects are a collection of Confucius’ saying, compiled by his pupils shortly after his death in 497 B.C., and they reflect the extent to which Confucius held up a moral ideal for all men. The aim is the perfection of one’s moral character, the method one of arduous pursuit of such moral attributes as benevolence, wisdom, courage; the result is no recompense in this life or the next—-to follow the Way must be its own reward. A harsh philosophy perhaps, but shining through it is the splendid intellect and spirit of one of the most reasonable and humane thinkers of all time.”
B. The Analects remind me of the biblical Book of Proverbs. Proverbs instructs people about how to impress authorities and the importance of being humble. As the summary above says, Confucius believed that people should follow the Way, even if they do not receive a reward in this life or the hereafter. Yet, the Analects do contain a measure of “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” (not a quotation): a belief that following certain rules can bring a person advancement. There is also a notion that, when the Way is prevalent in society, adherents to the Way should be prospering. But there is also a belief in contentment where one is, as one is nourished by the Way itself and finds a home therein.
C. An idea that appears more than once in The Analects is that a ruler can bring out the best in his subjects by being good and compassionate rather than attempting to inspire fear. A ruler is to be concerned about the well-being of his subjects, whatever their stations in life, and Confucius also supported trying to reform convicts rather than hastily executing them. As I read these passages, I was comparing them with the biblical portrayal of God. Throughout the Hebrew Bible, God rules people benevolently, yet they respond with stubborn disobedience; the Bible appears more pessimistic than Confucius about human nature. God also rules through fear, in a sense, since the Torah in the Hebrew Bible prescribes the death penalty for all sorts of offenses, and the prophets forecast woes as divine punishment for disobedience. In the New Testament, beliefs about human stubbornness in the face of divine benevolence as well as divine retribution persist, yet there is also a notion that the law, with its condemnations, is a dead end in terms of encouraging people to change, so now God focuses on grace.
D. I was comparing Confucius’ political philosophy with God’s governance according to the Bible, but what was Confucius’ theology? Did he regard the divine realm as benevolent? There is a passage in The Analects that states that Confucius did not discuss the gods. Although Confucius does not present a theology, there are still assumptions about the gods in The Analects. There are gods in heaven and below. People should sacrifice to these gods, and sometimes this occurs at mealtimes. People can displease Heaven, in which case they have nowhere to go with their prayers. Overall, they should keep a respectful distance from the gods. You would think that Confucius saw the gods as beings to appease, not so much as the embodiment of virtue. Yet, Confucius states at one point that Heaven placed virtue within him.
E. Another theme that recurs in The Analects is the importance of rites, which include sacrifices to the gods, honoring ancestors, and civic rituals. For Confucius, the rites ground people in the essentials. They humble those who are of high station. In the Gospels of the New Testament, Jesus accuses scribes and Pharisees of legalism: of being rigorous in observing rites of the Torah while missing the point on such vital principles as justice and compassion. The apostle Paul believed that the Torah served a purpose at one stage of God’s plan but with the coming of Jesus has been superseded, at least partially. In The Analects, Confucius was sensitive to such concerns, within his own context. In places, Confucius seemed to maintain that literal observance of the rites were not enough, that motivation and character were important. Observing the rites in an obsequious manner was not the proper path, for Confucius. Confucius also held that there could be flexibility in observing the rites and following the Way, since historical contexts and situations varied over time.
F. In some places, Confucius could be quite rigid: be courageous! In other places, though, he recognizes human flaws and foibles, both his own and those of his disciples. He realizes that he is a work in progress. But he also acknowledges what he believes to be his strengths. Moreover, his compassion and mercy notwithstanding, he only spends his time teaching students who are willing to learn, and who demonstrate that willingness by trying to figure things out on their own. Confucius’ disciples varied in their level of character and aptitude: some mastered virtue quickly, some missed the point at times and needed correction, and some failed to think before speaking or acting. In the synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ disciples often did not understand what Jesus was saying. The agenda behind the portrayal of a master’s disciples may be an interesting topic to research.
G. I put a question mark beside some of Confucius’ statements. I had to think about them, and sometimes I hit a dead end. One passage that I contemplated is 4:3: “The Master said, ‘It is only the benevolent man who is capable of liking or disliking other men.” How so? The conclusion I reached was that, when we are benevolent, we judge people according to their character, how they are. We like or dislike them, in short. When we lack benevolence, by contrast, we value them according to how well they benefit us. We are not liking or disliking them, per se, but rather are focusing on our own benefit. I could be wrong on this, but that was my way of trying to make sense of what Confucius said there.
Monday, April 17, 2017
Book Write-Up: Christ among Other Gods, by Erwin Lutzer
Erwin Lutzer. Christ among Other Gods: A Defense of Christ in an Age of Tolerance. Moody: 1994, 2016. See here to buy the book.
Erwin Lutzer is senior pastor as Chicago’s Moody Church and a graduate of Dallas Theological Seminary and Loyola University. In Christ among the Gods, Lutzer argues that Jesus Christ in the New Testament makes unique and better claims than those made by other religions. He criticizes the Jesus Seminar and New Age portrayals of Christ, defends the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection as an indicator for the truth of Christianity, and critiques Christian inclusivism, which holds that non-Christians can go to heaven without having knowingly accepted Christ in this life. Lutzer goes through the birth, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and return of Jesus—-not so much in a biographical sense, but more to highlight the uniqueness and authority of Jesus, present the Gospel as one of grace and not works, critique relativistic pluralism, respond to criticisms of Christian doctrines (i.e., the virgin birth), and offer eschatological speculations. On eschatology, Lutzer forecasts that the current push towards pluralism will lead to the Antichrist religion and the stigmatization of Christians as intolerant, even dangerous.
Here are some of my thoughts about this book:
A. Lutzer often says that the biblical Gospels reflect eyewitness testimony, but he never defends that claim. A lot of the biblical scholarship that he cites is dated: for example, he mentions Sir William Ramsay’s conclusion that the Book of Acts is historically trustworthy, and Ramsay lived in 1852-1916! Lutzer still makes fairly decent arguments and asks good questions: Why would the Gospel authors invent an incredible virgin birth story to counter charges that Jesus was born illegitimately (for Lutzer, they did not)? How would the notion of Jesus’ divinity arise in a strictly monotheistic Jewish culture (for Lutzer, the answer is that Jesus actually rose from the dead)? Lutzer’s arguments are not infallible: the Gospel authors could have been modeling Jesus’ birth on miraculous births in the Hebrew Bible, and Bart Ehrman has argued that the raw materials for seeing Jesus as divine existed in Second Temple Judaism. Still, there may be something to Lutzer’s argument: even Bart Ehrman maintains that the disciples’ belief in Jesus’ resurrection (obtained through visions) contributed to their belief in Jesus’ divinity!
How could Lutzer have made the book better, in terms of interacting with biblical scholarship? He could have referred to N.T. Wright’s arguments on the resurrection, Ben Witherington III’s work on Acts, and Richard Bauckham’s work on the Gospels as eyewitness testimony and the early Christian conception of Jesus as divine. Lutzer could have cited common ground between himself and Bart Ehrman on the significance of a belief in Jesus’ resurrection in conceptions of Jesus as divine.
Granted, Lutzer’s book first came out in 1994, before a lot of these books were even written. Still, is it too much to ask that the book contain at least some updates when it is being re-released? The updates would not entail a lot of revision: Lutzer can still make the same points, but he would cite additional (or, in some cases, different) scholars and elaborate, in places.
B. Did Lutzer utilize or critique sources fairly and accurately? He probably tried to do so. I would be interested in tracking down some of his sources and reading the quotations in context (i.e., a New Age author’s defense of the plagues in the Book of Revelation, which Lutzer ties with the Antichrist’s coming persecution of Christians). And, while Lutzer was rather dismissive of Clark Pinnock’s open-theism, treating it as Pinnock’s wishful thinking, Lutzer did address inclusivists’ Scriptural arguments.
In a few cases, Lutzer did seem to interpret sources in light of his agenda, when the sources may have been saying something else, or promoting a different ideology. Two examples come to mind. First, Lutzer refers to Augustine’s statement, “O, God, demand what you will, but supply what you demand!” Lutzer states that Augustine “understood that we do not have to fear God’s high standard as long as He meets it for us” (page 151). Augustine did not appear to be talking about Christ’s perfect righteousness being imputed to believers in that context (Confessions, Book 9, Chapter 29), however, but rather was expressing his wish that God would make him continent.
Second, Lutzer frequently discusses his experiences at the Parliament of World Religions. Lutzer argues that pluralism will lead to an attempt to merge the world religions together, while stigmatizing religions (like Christianity) that are narrow in their conception of truth. But the mission statement of the Parliament of World Religions presents another picture, supporting religious diversity, rather than trying to merge religions into one. It states: “The problem with seeking unity among religions is the risk of loss of the unique and precious character of each individual religious and spiritual tradition; this understanding is key to our framework.”
C. Lutzer makes one argument that is effective, albeit frightening. In critiquing Christian inclusivism, Lutzer argues that God does not necessarily act according to our conceptions of fairness. Therefore, God may condemn non-believers to hell, even if many deem that to be unfair. Many of us would expect a fair or loving God to deliver people from pain and catastrophe, Lutzer argues, but God does not always do that. God also permits inequalities, as some people have more access to the truth of God than others. Lutzer makes a good point: If there is a God, God does not always seem to be acting according to what we believe is fair, at least not in a manner that is apparent to us. Lutzer still believes God has done beneficent things, though.
D. Lutzer’s book was not incredibly deep. He criticized Lessing’s statement that he would prefer a search for truth rather than having the truth, as well as people who leave Christianity in search of something deeper (in their eyes). Lutzer seems to believe that truth and error are black and white, while characterizing Eastern religions as more open to contradictions (with exceptions). Lutzer’s arguments are good, but they are not incredibly satisfying, from an emotional standpoint. Sure, one needs the truth to avoid falling into a ditch, but cannot one at least sympathize with Lessing’s desire for a search for truth, an intellectual adventure of learning, growth, and exploration? Cannot one at least understand an openness to paradox, as opposed to strict binary thinking? Christianity itself can be deep and paradoxical, in areas!
Still, I did gain some new and interesting insights from Lutzer’s book. For example, Lutzer raises the possibility that there may have been multiple Antichrists throughout history. Lutzer states that Satan does not know when Christ will return, so Satan may have attempted to raise up the Antichrist in the past. Hitler may have been an example of this, for Lutzer. I have questions about this proposal: Hitler did not try to make peace with Israel, which Lutzer believes the Antichrist will do, in fulfillment of biblical prophecy. Yet, Lutzer’s proposal is intriguing, and perhaps tempting for one who wants to reconcile Christianity with historical criticism of the Bible (not that Lutzer has that agenda). Maybe people like Nero, Domitian, Hitler, etc. were Satan’s attempts to raise up the Antichrist in the past! Could we even go before the historical Jesus Christ with this proposal, seeing Antiochus Epiphanes as a similar Antichrist figure? Could this be a key to seeing apocalyptic literature as discussing its own historical contexts, while still being divine revelation?
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
Erwin Lutzer is senior pastor as Chicago’s Moody Church and a graduate of Dallas Theological Seminary and Loyola University. In Christ among the Gods, Lutzer argues that Jesus Christ in the New Testament makes unique and better claims than those made by other religions. He criticizes the Jesus Seminar and New Age portrayals of Christ, defends the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection as an indicator for the truth of Christianity, and critiques Christian inclusivism, which holds that non-Christians can go to heaven without having knowingly accepted Christ in this life. Lutzer goes through the birth, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and return of Jesus—-not so much in a biographical sense, but more to highlight the uniqueness and authority of Jesus, present the Gospel as one of grace and not works, critique relativistic pluralism, respond to criticisms of Christian doctrines (i.e., the virgin birth), and offer eschatological speculations. On eschatology, Lutzer forecasts that the current push towards pluralism will lead to the Antichrist religion and the stigmatization of Christians as intolerant, even dangerous.
Here are some of my thoughts about this book:
A. Lutzer often says that the biblical Gospels reflect eyewitness testimony, but he never defends that claim. A lot of the biblical scholarship that he cites is dated: for example, he mentions Sir William Ramsay’s conclusion that the Book of Acts is historically trustworthy, and Ramsay lived in 1852-1916! Lutzer still makes fairly decent arguments and asks good questions: Why would the Gospel authors invent an incredible virgin birth story to counter charges that Jesus was born illegitimately (for Lutzer, they did not)? How would the notion of Jesus’ divinity arise in a strictly monotheistic Jewish culture (for Lutzer, the answer is that Jesus actually rose from the dead)? Lutzer’s arguments are not infallible: the Gospel authors could have been modeling Jesus’ birth on miraculous births in the Hebrew Bible, and Bart Ehrman has argued that the raw materials for seeing Jesus as divine existed in Second Temple Judaism. Still, there may be something to Lutzer’s argument: even Bart Ehrman maintains that the disciples’ belief in Jesus’ resurrection (obtained through visions) contributed to their belief in Jesus’ divinity!
How could Lutzer have made the book better, in terms of interacting with biblical scholarship? He could have referred to N.T. Wright’s arguments on the resurrection, Ben Witherington III’s work on Acts, and Richard Bauckham’s work on the Gospels as eyewitness testimony and the early Christian conception of Jesus as divine. Lutzer could have cited common ground between himself and Bart Ehrman on the significance of a belief in Jesus’ resurrection in conceptions of Jesus as divine.
Granted, Lutzer’s book first came out in 1994, before a lot of these books were even written. Still, is it too much to ask that the book contain at least some updates when it is being re-released? The updates would not entail a lot of revision: Lutzer can still make the same points, but he would cite additional (or, in some cases, different) scholars and elaborate, in places.
B. Did Lutzer utilize or critique sources fairly and accurately? He probably tried to do so. I would be interested in tracking down some of his sources and reading the quotations in context (i.e., a New Age author’s defense of the plagues in the Book of Revelation, which Lutzer ties with the Antichrist’s coming persecution of Christians). And, while Lutzer was rather dismissive of Clark Pinnock’s open-theism, treating it as Pinnock’s wishful thinking, Lutzer did address inclusivists’ Scriptural arguments.
In a few cases, Lutzer did seem to interpret sources in light of his agenda, when the sources may have been saying something else, or promoting a different ideology. Two examples come to mind. First, Lutzer refers to Augustine’s statement, “O, God, demand what you will, but supply what you demand!” Lutzer states that Augustine “understood that we do not have to fear God’s high standard as long as He meets it for us” (page 151). Augustine did not appear to be talking about Christ’s perfect righteousness being imputed to believers in that context (Confessions, Book 9, Chapter 29), however, but rather was expressing his wish that God would make him continent.
Second, Lutzer frequently discusses his experiences at the Parliament of World Religions. Lutzer argues that pluralism will lead to an attempt to merge the world religions together, while stigmatizing religions (like Christianity) that are narrow in their conception of truth. But the mission statement of the Parliament of World Religions presents another picture, supporting religious diversity, rather than trying to merge religions into one. It states: “The problem with seeking unity among religions is the risk of loss of the unique and precious character of each individual religious and spiritual tradition; this understanding is key to our framework.”
C. Lutzer makes one argument that is effective, albeit frightening. In critiquing Christian inclusivism, Lutzer argues that God does not necessarily act according to our conceptions of fairness. Therefore, God may condemn non-believers to hell, even if many deem that to be unfair. Many of us would expect a fair or loving God to deliver people from pain and catastrophe, Lutzer argues, but God does not always do that. God also permits inequalities, as some people have more access to the truth of God than others. Lutzer makes a good point: If there is a God, God does not always seem to be acting according to what we believe is fair, at least not in a manner that is apparent to us. Lutzer still believes God has done beneficent things, though.
D. Lutzer’s book was not incredibly deep. He criticized Lessing’s statement that he would prefer a search for truth rather than having the truth, as well as people who leave Christianity in search of something deeper (in their eyes). Lutzer seems to believe that truth and error are black and white, while characterizing Eastern religions as more open to contradictions (with exceptions). Lutzer’s arguments are good, but they are not incredibly satisfying, from an emotional standpoint. Sure, one needs the truth to avoid falling into a ditch, but cannot one at least sympathize with Lessing’s desire for a search for truth, an intellectual adventure of learning, growth, and exploration? Cannot one at least understand an openness to paradox, as opposed to strict binary thinking? Christianity itself can be deep and paradoxical, in areas!
Still, I did gain some new and interesting insights from Lutzer’s book. For example, Lutzer raises the possibility that there may have been multiple Antichrists throughout history. Lutzer states that Satan does not know when Christ will return, so Satan may have attempted to raise up the Antichrist in the past. Hitler may have been an example of this, for Lutzer. I have questions about this proposal: Hitler did not try to make peace with Israel, which Lutzer believes the Antichrist will do, in fulfillment of biblical prophecy. Yet, Lutzer’s proposal is intriguing, and perhaps tempting for one who wants to reconcile Christianity with historical criticism of the Bible (not that Lutzer has that agenda). Maybe people like Nero, Domitian, Hitler, etc. were Satan’s attempts to raise up the Antichrist in the past! Could we even go before the historical Jesus Christ with this proposal, seeing Antiochus Epiphanes as a similar Antichrist figure? Could this be a key to seeing apocalyptic literature as discussing its own historical contexts, while still being divine revelation?
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
Friday, April 7, 2017
Church Write-Up: Praying Anywhere, Romans 5:6
At church last Sunday, the pastor was continuing his series on
prayer. He said that people do not need to kneel and close their eyes
when they pray, for they can pray anywhere, even while they are driving
their car. The pastor referred to Scriptural examples in which people
prayed without kneeling. Jesus, after all, prayed to God on the cross.
That was a good point, but what especially spoke to me was something that the person introducing the service said. The person introducing the service was talking about times when he was disappointed with God because he was going through trials or not getting what he requested from God. In these times, he said, he rests on Romans 5:6, which states that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. That is how God commends God’s love, the passage states. The person also said that Christ died for everyone, both believers and non-believers. For this person, Romans 5:6 presents a truth that one can grasp throughout the vicissitudes of life.
This spoke to me, for a couple of reasons. For one, I was frustrated with God that week. Second, Romans 5:6 came to my mind one night. I was reading Matthew Bates’ Salvation by Allegiance Alone, which was emphasizing good works as a condition for final salvation. I felt that I fell short, and that amplified my moodiness towards God. Like the person at church, Romans 5:6 was reminding me of God’s love: it was like an anchor.
And yet, Romans 5:6 can only be an anchor for a person who believes that Christ died for him or her. If unlimited atonement is true, as the person introducing the service believed, then Christ died for everyone: even if I do not technically fall in the “saved” category, I can be assured that Christ died for me, that God loved me that much. Suppose that limited atonement is true, though? Suppose that Christ only died for the elect, for those God predestined to be believers? In that case, a person who believes that he or she is among the elect can be comforted by Romans 5:6. One may arrive at that assurance by looking at one’s spiritual fruits, by considering spiritual experiences, or simply by feeling that one is among the elect.
There are other passages that can assure a person of God’s love, though, whether that person is a believer or non-believer. God loves those whom God created, for the reason that God created them (Job 10:3; Psalm 138:8; 145:9). God loves God’s enemies and sends rain on the just and unjust (Matthew 5:45). And I John 4:8 affirms that God is love.
That was a good point, but what especially spoke to me was something that the person introducing the service said. The person introducing the service was talking about times when he was disappointed with God because he was going through trials or not getting what he requested from God. In these times, he said, he rests on Romans 5:6, which states that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. That is how God commends God’s love, the passage states. The person also said that Christ died for everyone, both believers and non-believers. For this person, Romans 5:6 presents a truth that one can grasp throughout the vicissitudes of life.
This spoke to me, for a couple of reasons. For one, I was frustrated with God that week. Second, Romans 5:6 came to my mind one night. I was reading Matthew Bates’ Salvation by Allegiance Alone, which was emphasizing good works as a condition for final salvation. I felt that I fell short, and that amplified my moodiness towards God. Like the person at church, Romans 5:6 was reminding me of God’s love: it was like an anchor.
And yet, Romans 5:6 can only be an anchor for a person who believes that Christ died for him or her. If unlimited atonement is true, as the person introducing the service believed, then Christ died for everyone: even if I do not technically fall in the “saved” category, I can be assured that Christ died for me, that God loved me that much. Suppose that limited atonement is true, though? Suppose that Christ only died for the elect, for those God predestined to be believers? In that case, a person who believes that he or she is among the elect can be comforted by Romans 5:6. One may arrive at that assurance by looking at one’s spiritual fruits, by considering spiritual experiences, or simply by feeling that one is among the elect.
There are other passages that can assure a person of God’s love, though, whether that person is a believer or non-believer. God loves those whom God created, for the reason that God created them (Job 10:3; Psalm 138:8; 145:9). God loves God’s enemies and sends rain on the just and unjust (Matthew 5:45). And I John 4:8 affirms that God is love.
Thursday, April 6, 2017
Book Write-Up (Loosely-Speaking): The Teaching of the Buddha
Teaching of the Buddha. Tokyo: Bukkyo Dendo Kyokai, 1966, 1991. Printed by Toppan Printing Co.
I got this book at the Goodwill. It contains Buddhist sayings from various Buddhist writings.
I have long known about Buddhism. I may have first learned about it when I visited a museum as a child and saw a giant statue of the Buddha, or when I saw a picture of the Buddha in an encyclopedia.
There were three milestones that actually informed me about the religion.
The first milestone was when I watched the 1993 movie Little Buddha, starring Keanu Reeves. I was in high school at the time. Maybe it was my decision to watch the movie because it would teach me about another religion, or maybe it was my sister’s decision because she thought that Keanu Reeves was cute. (The movie Speed was popular at this time.) In any case, we checked out the movie from the video store and watched it.
The movie covered some of the basics of Buddhism. Reeves plays Siddhartha Gautama, the rich prince who leaves behind his life of comfort to become an itinerant. He is exposed to the ills and terrors of life outside the palace, and he advocates a path of moderation, in between asceticism and over-indulgence. Eventually, he is tempted by demons while sitting under a tree, and he learns that salvation comes through compassion. “Well, that’s different from Christianity!”, I thought at the time. “It teaches salvation by works, whereas Christianity teaches salvation by grace through faith!” And, of course, I believed that Christianity had a better analysis of the human condition and offered a better solution: that we were inherently sinful and needed God’s grace and transformation of us in order to become righteous people.
The second milestone was when I was as an undergraduate in college. I took an Introduction to Religions course, which covered Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam. Theravada Buddhism, I learned, was atheistic or at least agnostic about the existence of a deity. Mahayana Buddhism, by contrast, had divine-like beings who were believed to assist people. The common ground between these Buddhisms was a belief in non-attachment: that things in this world are continually changing, so we set ourselves up for disappointment when we desire or become attached to anyone or anything. The best posture is non-attachment. There were other aspects of Buddhism that the class covered: reincarnation (as in Hinduism), the noble path, and the need to concentrate in meditation, otherwise the teacher may whack you on the head with a stick (or so we saw in a video)! But non-attachment was the main theme that stood out in my mind. My assessment at the time was that Buddhism identified a real problem—-disappointment that flowed from desire and fluctuation in the world—-but that Christianity had a more fulfilling solution to this problem. Rather than putting a lid on our enjoyment of the world, why not keep enjoying it? Even if things change, God does not change, and God promises an eternal bliss for those who love God!
The third milestone was when I was a student at divinity school, and a Zen monk was my roommate. We discussed religion, and he mentioned certain themes in our conversations. One theme was that all is one, and all is God. Meditation is a way by which one can arrive at a sense of that oneness. The monk also mentioned times that Buddhists demonstrated a social conscience, as when a monk stood in front of an army to stop a war. I especially identified with a story that my roommate told me, about a monk who spent a lot of time on the mountain meditating, then he came down to the market and got upset at someone. This monk then realized that he had to go back up the mountain and meditate some more! Walking the walk of what we believe can be difficult!
In reading The Teaching of the Buddha, a lot of these themes appeared: compassion for others, non-attachment, moderation, and the oneness of all people and things. Giving to the poor was a recurrent theme, and so was equality. Men and women can both become enlightened, the text affirmed, and yet homeless monks were warned to stay away from women, lest they violate their own chastity (sort of like the Billy Graham rule, but not entirely). The book also had political theory: What is a just ruler? What does a just ruler do? It discussed how a ruler can approach war, in light of Buddhist principles: he should try to be peaceful but may realize that war is the only option, in certain cases. The book also contained household codes, like Ephesians 5, Colossians 3, etc. There was also a sense of mission: that spreading the message of Buddhism will encourage more people to become compassionate and less greedy and hateful, thereby improving society. There are Christians who approach the Gospel this way, but the Buddhism in this book seemed to lack the pessimistic eschatology that characterizes much of Christianity. The book did value this world, and yet it also seemed to maintain that this world is not entirely real. I was unclear if it was disputing the world’s ontological reality in these cases, or was merely reaffirming its belief that things are continually changing and so we should not become attached.
On God, the book was rather variegated. It occasionally expressed agnosticism about the existence of a god, and yet gods appeared in some of the Buddhist tales. The Buddha was also depicted as an eternal, heavenly, cosmic figure, almost like God, who manifested himself as the human Siddhartha. People need the assistance of the Buddha to become enlightened, and the Buddha is compassionate towards all. On the one hand, the book asserted that Enlightenment is deep inside of everyone, even those who are greedy and selfish. On the other hand, the book asserted that Buddha must plant the seeds of Enlightenment inside of a person. The latter view is similar to Christianity, which stresses the role of God’s grace in enabling people to come to God and become virtuous.
Regarding the afterlife, there were occasional references to reincarnation, as far as I can remember. But there were many references to hell or long-lasting or eternal punishment, as well as to the Pure Land. Is the path away from hell and towards the Pure Land easy or difficult? Some passages suggest that faith in the Buddha is sufficient for salvation, even on one’s deathbed. Orientation towards the Buddha is powerful and life-changing, according to this view. On the other hand, there is an acknowledgement that some may talk the talk without walking the walk, resulting in fruitlessness. Certain sins, such as dishonoring parents, can also land one in hell. The New Testament explores similar themes of faith, works, and the afterlife.
There are passages in this book that appear relativistic—-that assert or promote a state that is beyond right and wrong. This is odd, since so much of the book clearly maintains that there are right actions and wrong actions, sometimes articulating “Thou shalt nots” that sound similar to the second table of the Ten Commandments. What are the relativistic passages about, then? I can only guess, based on themes that appear in the book. The book encourages people to get beyond evaluating people and situations according to their likes and dislikes, for this is part of becoming un-attached, suppressing desire, recognizing the oneness of all, and becoming compassionate. On the other hand, the book also encourages monks and devout Buddhists to avoid the greedy. Christianity, too, attempts to navigate between love and protecting oneself from negative influences.
The book also seemed to suggest that evil has a role: for example, Enlightenment can grow from the soil of ignorance, and ignorance is a foil for Enlightenment. This reminds me of the saying that “Without darkness, there is no light.” That is somewhat consistent with Christianity, but not entirely. Many Christians have asserted that God permits evil for a righteous purpose, as if evil has some role or value in God’s plans. At the same time, Christianity teaches that good came first, that evil was a fall from the good, and that God one day will eliminate evil, leaving only good to remain. Ultimately, for Christianity, light can exist without darkness. Maybe Buddhism, too, has a similar notion: Is not the Pure Land free from corrupting desires?
An appendix to the book dates a lot of these Scriptures after Christ, while believing that they contain teachings of Siddhartha, who predated Christ. That makes me wonder: Could these Scriptures have been influenced by Christianity? The similarities seem so salient: incarnation (sort of), grace, faith, and relying on a higher power. In one case, though, I wondered if the text was arguing against the New Testament. On page 120, we read: “But it would be foolish for a man to put out his eyes for fear of being tempted by beautiful forms.” Is this a response to Matthew 5:29: “If your right eye offend thee, pluck it out” (KJV)? Is this a coincidence?
On whether I identified with the spirituality in this book, I identified with the theme of relying on a compassionate higher power to become virtuous. I also liked the theme of being instructed by everyday life (nature, experience, and everyday tasks) about Enlightenment. I had difficulty with the Buddhist teaching that we should avoid desires. If things are changing, why not enjoy what we can when we can? At the same time, I realize that becoming overly attached can result in greed, covetousness, jealousy, and hate.
I got this book at the Goodwill. It contains Buddhist sayings from various Buddhist writings.
I have long known about Buddhism. I may have first learned about it when I visited a museum as a child and saw a giant statue of the Buddha, or when I saw a picture of the Buddha in an encyclopedia.
There were three milestones that actually informed me about the religion.
The first milestone was when I watched the 1993 movie Little Buddha, starring Keanu Reeves. I was in high school at the time. Maybe it was my decision to watch the movie because it would teach me about another religion, or maybe it was my sister’s decision because she thought that Keanu Reeves was cute. (The movie Speed was popular at this time.) In any case, we checked out the movie from the video store and watched it.
The movie covered some of the basics of Buddhism. Reeves plays Siddhartha Gautama, the rich prince who leaves behind his life of comfort to become an itinerant. He is exposed to the ills and terrors of life outside the palace, and he advocates a path of moderation, in between asceticism and over-indulgence. Eventually, he is tempted by demons while sitting under a tree, and he learns that salvation comes through compassion. “Well, that’s different from Christianity!”, I thought at the time. “It teaches salvation by works, whereas Christianity teaches salvation by grace through faith!” And, of course, I believed that Christianity had a better analysis of the human condition and offered a better solution: that we were inherently sinful and needed God’s grace and transformation of us in order to become righteous people.
The second milestone was when I was as an undergraduate in college. I took an Introduction to Religions course, which covered Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam. Theravada Buddhism, I learned, was atheistic or at least agnostic about the existence of a deity. Mahayana Buddhism, by contrast, had divine-like beings who were believed to assist people. The common ground between these Buddhisms was a belief in non-attachment: that things in this world are continually changing, so we set ourselves up for disappointment when we desire or become attached to anyone or anything. The best posture is non-attachment. There were other aspects of Buddhism that the class covered: reincarnation (as in Hinduism), the noble path, and the need to concentrate in meditation, otherwise the teacher may whack you on the head with a stick (or so we saw in a video)! But non-attachment was the main theme that stood out in my mind. My assessment at the time was that Buddhism identified a real problem—-disappointment that flowed from desire and fluctuation in the world—-but that Christianity had a more fulfilling solution to this problem. Rather than putting a lid on our enjoyment of the world, why not keep enjoying it? Even if things change, God does not change, and God promises an eternal bliss for those who love God!
The third milestone was when I was a student at divinity school, and a Zen monk was my roommate. We discussed religion, and he mentioned certain themes in our conversations. One theme was that all is one, and all is God. Meditation is a way by which one can arrive at a sense of that oneness. The monk also mentioned times that Buddhists demonstrated a social conscience, as when a monk stood in front of an army to stop a war. I especially identified with a story that my roommate told me, about a monk who spent a lot of time on the mountain meditating, then he came down to the market and got upset at someone. This monk then realized that he had to go back up the mountain and meditate some more! Walking the walk of what we believe can be difficult!
In reading The Teaching of the Buddha, a lot of these themes appeared: compassion for others, non-attachment, moderation, and the oneness of all people and things. Giving to the poor was a recurrent theme, and so was equality. Men and women can both become enlightened, the text affirmed, and yet homeless monks were warned to stay away from women, lest they violate their own chastity (sort of like the Billy Graham rule, but not entirely). The book also had political theory: What is a just ruler? What does a just ruler do? It discussed how a ruler can approach war, in light of Buddhist principles: he should try to be peaceful but may realize that war is the only option, in certain cases. The book also contained household codes, like Ephesians 5, Colossians 3, etc. There was also a sense of mission: that spreading the message of Buddhism will encourage more people to become compassionate and less greedy and hateful, thereby improving society. There are Christians who approach the Gospel this way, but the Buddhism in this book seemed to lack the pessimistic eschatology that characterizes much of Christianity. The book did value this world, and yet it also seemed to maintain that this world is not entirely real. I was unclear if it was disputing the world’s ontological reality in these cases, or was merely reaffirming its belief that things are continually changing and so we should not become attached.
On God, the book was rather variegated. It occasionally expressed agnosticism about the existence of a god, and yet gods appeared in some of the Buddhist tales. The Buddha was also depicted as an eternal, heavenly, cosmic figure, almost like God, who manifested himself as the human Siddhartha. People need the assistance of the Buddha to become enlightened, and the Buddha is compassionate towards all. On the one hand, the book asserted that Enlightenment is deep inside of everyone, even those who are greedy and selfish. On the other hand, the book asserted that Buddha must plant the seeds of Enlightenment inside of a person. The latter view is similar to Christianity, which stresses the role of God’s grace in enabling people to come to God and become virtuous.
Regarding the afterlife, there were occasional references to reincarnation, as far as I can remember. But there were many references to hell or long-lasting or eternal punishment, as well as to the Pure Land. Is the path away from hell and towards the Pure Land easy or difficult? Some passages suggest that faith in the Buddha is sufficient for salvation, even on one’s deathbed. Orientation towards the Buddha is powerful and life-changing, according to this view. On the other hand, there is an acknowledgement that some may talk the talk without walking the walk, resulting in fruitlessness. Certain sins, such as dishonoring parents, can also land one in hell. The New Testament explores similar themes of faith, works, and the afterlife.
There are passages in this book that appear relativistic—-that assert or promote a state that is beyond right and wrong. This is odd, since so much of the book clearly maintains that there are right actions and wrong actions, sometimes articulating “Thou shalt nots” that sound similar to the second table of the Ten Commandments. What are the relativistic passages about, then? I can only guess, based on themes that appear in the book. The book encourages people to get beyond evaluating people and situations according to their likes and dislikes, for this is part of becoming un-attached, suppressing desire, recognizing the oneness of all, and becoming compassionate. On the other hand, the book also encourages monks and devout Buddhists to avoid the greedy. Christianity, too, attempts to navigate between love and protecting oneself from negative influences.
The book also seemed to suggest that evil has a role: for example, Enlightenment can grow from the soil of ignorance, and ignorance is a foil for Enlightenment. This reminds me of the saying that “Without darkness, there is no light.” That is somewhat consistent with Christianity, but not entirely. Many Christians have asserted that God permits evil for a righteous purpose, as if evil has some role or value in God’s plans. At the same time, Christianity teaches that good came first, that evil was a fall from the good, and that God one day will eliminate evil, leaving only good to remain. Ultimately, for Christianity, light can exist without darkness. Maybe Buddhism, too, has a similar notion: Is not the Pure Land free from corrupting desires?
An appendix to the book dates a lot of these Scriptures after Christ, while believing that they contain teachings of Siddhartha, who predated Christ. That makes me wonder: Could these Scriptures have been influenced by Christianity? The similarities seem so salient: incarnation (sort of), grace, faith, and relying on a higher power. In one case, though, I wondered if the text was arguing against the New Testament. On page 120, we read: “But it would be foolish for a man to put out his eyes for fear of being tempted by beautiful forms.” Is this a response to Matthew 5:29: “If your right eye offend thee, pluck it out” (KJV)? Is this a coincidence?
On whether I identified with the spirituality in this book, I identified with the theme of relying on a compassionate higher power to become virtuous. I also liked the theme of being instructed by everyday life (nature, experience, and everyday tasks) about Enlightenment. I had difficulty with the Buddhist teaching that we should avoid desires. If things are changing, why not enjoy what we can when we can? At the same time, I realize that becoming overly attached can result in greed, covetousness, jealousy, and hate.
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Book Write-Up: Hope for the Same-Sex Attracted, by Ron Citlau
Ron Citlau. Hope for the Same-Sex Attracted: Biblical Direction for Friends, Family Members, and Those Struggling with Homosexuality. Bethany House, 2017. See here to buy the book.
Ron Citlau is a pastor. He himself has struggled with same-sex attraction, and he is married to his wife, Amy.
Ron Citlau believes that the Bible is opposed to same-sex sexual relationships. He does not present a biblical defense of that position in this book, but he presented a defense in a previous book that he co-wrote, entitled Compassion without Compromise. In Hope for the Same-Sex Attracted, Citlau focuses on offering strategies for Christians wrestling with same-sex attraction. Hope still has some theological content, however, for Citlau argues that homosexual marriages and unions cannot provide fulfillment, since it is marriage between a man and a woman that reflects the Trinity and the marriage between Christ and the church.
Citlau offers a variety of strategies for Christians who have same-sex attraction. For one, he argues that they can still be sexual, without being in a same-sex sexual relationship. He seems to have a broad view of sexuality here, for he appears to argue that men fulfill their sexual nature when they are sacrificial, and that women do so when they create. For Citlau, a single same-sex attracted Christian can do this, without having sex.
Second, Citlau stresses Christian community among Christians who have a thirst for God. This can alleviate loneliness while also providing opportunities for service. Third, Citlau discusses lament in prayer: a same-sex attracted Christian can pour his or her pain out to God and pray about his or her longings and struggles. Fourth, Citlau maintains that, in some cases, the same-sex attracted person may benefit from marriage to a person of the opposite sex. Citlau does not regard this as a universal panacea, and he offers guidelines that same-sex attracted Christians can consider when evaluating whether to pursue such an option.
The book has some positives. Citlau tries to be empathetic towards Christians who struggle with same-sex attraction. He tells stories about such Christians who found a path that worked for them, apart from a same-sex sexual relationship. I also learned more about the different voices in this discussion, such as Wesley Hill, who advocates same-sex spiritual friendship as a path for same-sex attracted Christians. Citlau disagrees with Hill’s approach but still supports building relationships in Christian community. I enjoyed some of Citlau’s personal anecdotes, such as his story of how he felt that God encouraged him to ask out a woman, she said no, and he still felt that God was the one encouraging him to ask her out. I am not saying that I like this story because I believe that God pressures homosexuals to be heterosexual: Citlau distances himself from such an idea, as he says that therapy may not cure a homosexual of same-sex attraction. But it may be a good story for those coping with rejection.
In terms, of negatives, the book was a bit too chipper and optimistic for my taste. Citlau tried to understand people’s struggles, but the book lacked pathos and depth. The book also could be rather contradictory. Citlau would make a statement against one-on-one therapy in favor of groups, without any elaboration, then he would talk about one-on-one therapy as a legitimate option. Citlau would say that same-sex attracted Christians should try to crucify their desires rather than accepting them and channeling them into a positive direction, but later he would say that same-sex desires are not always curable. On page 123, Citlau states: “There is simply no reason that a man or a woman with same-sex attraction who loves Jesus and wants children cannot have the opportunity of marriage with someone of the opposite sex.” Elsewhere in the book, however, Citlau acknowledges that opposite-sex marriage may not work for a same-sex attracted person (for Citlau, it may, or it may not). Citlau extols lament and being honest with God, but later he says that “Gloomy and despairing Christian leaders give very little hope for anxious sinners” (page 155). Citlau says the same-sex sexual relationships cannot be fulfilling, yet he tells a story of a gay professor he knew who was happy in his relationship.
There were things that Citlau said in this book that encouraged me to question the fairness of requiring same-sex attracted Christians to abstain from same-sex relationships. (I questioned it before reading this book, but Citlau unintentionally confirmed my questioning.) Paul in I Corinthians 7:9 said that it is better to marry than to burn. Paul most likely was referring to opposite-sex marriage, but couldn’t the same logic apply to same-sex desires? Should same-sex attracted people have to “burn” sexually in a state of singleness? Some may tell them to marry someone from the opposite sex, but Citlau acknowledges that “You cannot marry someone to whom you are not attracted” (page 126). (Citlau says this in offering advice to same-sex Christians considering opposite-sex marriage: they need to be attracted, on some level, to the person of the opposite sex.) Citlau acts as if service, friendships, sacrifice, and creativity can take the place of a monogamous sexual relationship, and yet, on page 123, he states that “Marriage is unique from any other relationship.” Should same-sex attracted Christians be forbidden from ever having this kind of relationship, with someone to whom they are genuinely attracted?
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
Ron Citlau is a pastor. He himself has struggled with same-sex attraction, and he is married to his wife, Amy.
Ron Citlau believes that the Bible is opposed to same-sex sexual relationships. He does not present a biblical defense of that position in this book, but he presented a defense in a previous book that he co-wrote, entitled Compassion without Compromise. In Hope for the Same-Sex Attracted, Citlau focuses on offering strategies for Christians wrestling with same-sex attraction. Hope still has some theological content, however, for Citlau argues that homosexual marriages and unions cannot provide fulfillment, since it is marriage between a man and a woman that reflects the Trinity and the marriage between Christ and the church.
Citlau offers a variety of strategies for Christians who have same-sex attraction. For one, he argues that they can still be sexual, without being in a same-sex sexual relationship. He seems to have a broad view of sexuality here, for he appears to argue that men fulfill their sexual nature when they are sacrificial, and that women do so when they create. For Citlau, a single same-sex attracted Christian can do this, without having sex.
Second, Citlau stresses Christian community among Christians who have a thirst for God. This can alleviate loneliness while also providing opportunities for service. Third, Citlau discusses lament in prayer: a same-sex attracted Christian can pour his or her pain out to God and pray about his or her longings and struggles. Fourth, Citlau maintains that, in some cases, the same-sex attracted person may benefit from marriage to a person of the opposite sex. Citlau does not regard this as a universal panacea, and he offers guidelines that same-sex attracted Christians can consider when evaluating whether to pursue such an option.
The book has some positives. Citlau tries to be empathetic towards Christians who struggle with same-sex attraction. He tells stories about such Christians who found a path that worked for them, apart from a same-sex sexual relationship. I also learned more about the different voices in this discussion, such as Wesley Hill, who advocates same-sex spiritual friendship as a path for same-sex attracted Christians. Citlau disagrees with Hill’s approach but still supports building relationships in Christian community. I enjoyed some of Citlau’s personal anecdotes, such as his story of how he felt that God encouraged him to ask out a woman, she said no, and he still felt that God was the one encouraging him to ask her out. I am not saying that I like this story because I believe that God pressures homosexuals to be heterosexual: Citlau distances himself from such an idea, as he says that therapy may not cure a homosexual of same-sex attraction. But it may be a good story for those coping with rejection.
In terms, of negatives, the book was a bit too chipper and optimistic for my taste. Citlau tried to understand people’s struggles, but the book lacked pathos and depth. The book also could be rather contradictory. Citlau would make a statement against one-on-one therapy in favor of groups, without any elaboration, then he would talk about one-on-one therapy as a legitimate option. Citlau would say that same-sex attracted Christians should try to crucify their desires rather than accepting them and channeling them into a positive direction, but later he would say that same-sex desires are not always curable. On page 123, Citlau states: “There is simply no reason that a man or a woman with same-sex attraction who loves Jesus and wants children cannot have the opportunity of marriage with someone of the opposite sex.” Elsewhere in the book, however, Citlau acknowledges that opposite-sex marriage may not work for a same-sex attracted person (for Citlau, it may, or it may not). Citlau extols lament and being honest with God, but later he says that “Gloomy and despairing Christian leaders give very little hope for anxious sinners” (page 155). Citlau says the same-sex sexual relationships cannot be fulfilling, yet he tells a story of a gay professor he knew who was happy in his relationship.
There were things that Citlau said in this book that encouraged me to question the fairness of requiring same-sex attracted Christians to abstain from same-sex relationships. (I questioned it before reading this book, but Citlau unintentionally confirmed my questioning.) Paul in I Corinthians 7:9 said that it is better to marry than to burn. Paul most likely was referring to opposite-sex marriage, but couldn’t the same logic apply to same-sex desires? Should same-sex attracted people have to “burn” sexually in a state of singleness? Some may tell them to marry someone from the opposite sex, but Citlau acknowledges that “You cannot marry someone to whom you are not attracted” (page 126). (Citlau says this in offering advice to same-sex Christians considering opposite-sex marriage: they need to be attracted, on some level, to the person of the opposite sex.) Citlau acts as if service, friendships, sacrifice, and creativity can take the place of a monogamous sexual relationship, and yet, on page 123, he states that “Marriage is unique from any other relationship.” Should same-sex attracted Christians be forbidden from ever having this kind of relationship, with someone to whom they are genuinely attracted?
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest!
Monday, April 3, 2017
Book Write-Up: Salvation by Allegiance Alone
Matthew W. Bates. Salvation by Allegiance Alone: Rethinking Faith, Works, and the Gospel of Jesus the King. Baker Academic, 2017. See here to purchase the book.
Matthew W. Bates has a doctorate from the University of Notre Dame and teaches theology at Quincy University. In Salvation by Allegiance Alone, Bates argues that the faith (Greek pistis) that brings justification in Paul’s writings is not merely intellectual assent to propositions or passively trusting Christ that one’s sins are forgiven and that one has eternal life. Rather, for Bates, pistis in Paul’s writings is continued loyalty and allegiance to Christ as king, which entails doing good works. (Note: Bates includes Ephesians, Colossians, and the Pastorals in Paul’s writings, whereas a number of scholars dispute Pauline authorship of those epistles. Bates addresses this in the endnotes.)
The key points in this book include the following:
—-Bates shows that pistis in Second Temple literature and Josephus’ writings can mean loyalty or faithfulness to a dynasty or king. Bates also agrees with New Testament scholar Richard Hays that Paul frequently discusses the faith of Jesus, meaning Jesus’ faithfulness. While Bates acknowledges that there are cases in Pauline writings in which pistis refers to intellectual assent to propositions, he maintains that it mostly means allegiance or loyalty in those writings. Bates attempts to demonstrate that his interpretation is consistent with the Pauline passages themselves.
—-Bates mediates between Protestant and Catholic views on justification (being righteous). Like Protestants, Bates maintains that justification includes imputation, God’s declaration that the believer is innocent and righteous, even if the believer practically falls short. Like Catholics, however, Bates holds that justification includes infused and imparted righteousness: that the believer is righteous in terms of his or her deeds, not just declared to be so. A significant aspect of Bates’ view on justification is believers’ union with Christ, a theme that appears in Pauline and Johannine writings. For Bates, when believers are united with Christ, they share Christ’s status as righteous and innocent, even though they fall short of Christ’s righteousness, and yet they also bear spiritual fruit (good works) in their union with Christ. Bates subsumes both imputed righteousness and practical righteousness under the category of justification and dismisses as unbiblical the Protestant belief that justification is imputed righteousness, whereas sanctification is the believer becoming practically righteousness.
—-For Bates, as part of one’s allegiance to Jesus, one needs to repent of sins and do good works if one wants to enter the good afterlife and avoid hell. Bates appeals to passages in the synoptic Gospels, Pauline writings, and Johannine writings to support this point. Bates also draws from John Barclay’s scholarship. According to Barclay, a gift in antiquity often entailed reciprocity on the part of the recipient. The same goes for those who receive God’s gift of salvation!
—-Bates contends that a key theme in the Scriptures is God dwelling with people on earth. For Bates, this will find its culmination in the eschaton, when God renews the earth and dwells therein. This, not heaven, is the hope of believers, as far as Bates is concerned.
—-Another key theme in the Scriptures, according to Bates, is that human beings were made in God’s image. Humans mediate the divine presence, as images (idols) were believed to mediate the divine in many pagan religions. For Bates, humans being in God’s image entails that they rule the earth as God’s representative, with justice and righteousness. Christ and believers will do so more fully in the eschaton. Moreover, one of Christ’s tasks was to renew the image of God in human beings so that they could be righteous, like God, and this occurs with believers (Colossians 3:10).
—-Bates argues that the Gospel is more about Jesus and how we participate in what he is doing, than it is about us being assured of personal forgiveness and having eternal life. For Bates, the Gospel states that Jesus pre-existed, came to earth as a human being, died for people’s sins to bring them forgiveness, and rose from the dead to a position of authority. Bates maintains that this Gospel is present throughout the New Testament and should be emphasized in Gospel presentations.
Here are some of my thoughts about this book:
A. I am giving this book four stars, even though I cannot say that I “like” the book (for reasons I will explain). Overall, the book argued its case rather effectively, and it also did well to mix relatable anecdotes with heavy theological discussion. (I think of Bates’ discussion of his vocational path and how he came to understand that in light of his beliefs about God’s renewal of the cosmos.) Bates was especially convincing in his argument that the New Testament holds that good works are necessary for final salvation. It is difficult to reconcile certain New Testament passages with ideas such as once-saved-always-saved, or the notion that all one has to do to be saved is to trust Christ, without avoiding sins or doing good works. Bates’ argument that Christ’s pre-existence is in the synoptic Gospels was not as strong, however.
B. That said, the book did depress me, a bit. “If that is how it is, then I might as well give up on salvation, since I will never be good enough!”, I thought (not that I have given up on salvation). To his credit, Bates did attempt to address pastoral questions: Does one’s allegiance have to be perfect for one to be saved? What is the minimum of obedience to God that is necessary for final salvation? Bates’ answers were not always helpful, though. For example, Bates said that we should look at our lives and make sure that we are repenting of the sins in Galatians 5:19-21, sins that Paul says can bar one from the Kingdom of God and eternal life. That may be faithful to what Paul is saying, but my problem is that many Christians define these sins rather broadly. Adultery is on the list. Remember that Jesus said in Matthew 5:28 that looking on a woman to lust after her is committing adultery in one’s heart. Does having sexual desire place one on the path to hell? Idolatry is on the list. There are Christians who define idolatry, not merely as worshiping images, but as looking to anything or anyone other to God for one’s fulfillment. Who isn’t guilty of that? Even if I were to tell God I was sorry for that, I would still do it, on some level, for it is part of who I am! Also on the list are enmity and envying. Does that mean a person would go to hell for not liking everyone, or for having negative feelings toward others? Can people eradicate such feelings from themselves? There are Christians who have reasonable answers to these questions; perhaps Bates could have engaged such questions better than he did, without going too far afield.
C. There was a lot of emphasis in this book on doing good works or avoiding sin as part of receiving final salvation. The book would have been better had it also emphasized God’s love, or God’s faithfulness towards human beings. Maybe Paul had the sort of soteriology that Bates thinks he had, but Paul also felt loved and accepted by Christ (Romans 5:8; Galatians 2:20). Paul thought that Christ had made Paul his own (Philippians 3:12) and that Paul would be with Christ after dying (Philippians 1:23).
D. In my opinion, Bates was rather inconsistent on faith and good works. Bates seemed to treat good works as part of one’s allegiance (pistis) to Christ, whereas Paul in Romans 4:5 distinguishes faith from works. Even though Bates believes that good works are necessary for final salvation, Bates stresses that we cannot earn our salvation: our good works are a result of God’s grace in Christ, after all, something that we neither earned nor deserved. Bates also employs the New Perspective on Paul in explaining the Pauline distinction between faith and works: we are saved by allegiance to Christ, not by obeying the Mosaic law or doing good works apart from Christ. You would think that Bates maintains that Paul is distinguishing Mosaic works, not good works in general, from allegiance to Christ. And yet, Bates also seems to maintain that Christ delivered us, in general, from a system that focused on rules. I question, though, whether one can embrace Bates’ soteriology and avoid that kind of rule-based system.
E. While a “trust-alone” Gospel does make me feel better, I identified with some of Bates’ practical critiques of this view. Bates said that there are Protestants who seem to stigmatize good works, treating them as an attempt to earn God’s approval, which contrasts with passively trusting Christ for salvation. In my opinion, that particular Protestant viewpoint (not that all Protestants hold it) is itself discouraging. If I do good works, how can I be sure that I am not doing them to earn God’s approval? Should I not do them? Will I go to hell if I do them to earn God’s approval, even in the tiniest bit? I think that the doctrine of hell can ruin a lot of people’s spiritual lives, making them feel that they have to have all their ducks in a row to avoid going there. This can occur when one adds good works as a requirement for salvation, but also if one holds that trust-alone is the requirement for salvation.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Netgalley. My review is honest!
Matthew W. Bates has a doctorate from the University of Notre Dame and teaches theology at Quincy University. In Salvation by Allegiance Alone, Bates argues that the faith (Greek pistis) that brings justification in Paul’s writings is not merely intellectual assent to propositions or passively trusting Christ that one’s sins are forgiven and that one has eternal life. Rather, for Bates, pistis in Paul’s writings is continued loyalty and allegiance to Christ as king, which entails doing good works. (Note: Bates includes Ephesians, Colossians, and the Pastorals in Paul’s writings, whereas a number of scholars dispute Pauline authorship of those epistles. Bates addresses this in the endnotes.)
The key points in this book include the following:
—-Bates shows that pistis in Second Temple literature and Josephus’ writings can mean loyalty or faithfulness to a dynasty or king. Bates also agrees with New Testament scholar Richard Hays that Paul frequently discusses the faith of Jesus, meaning Jesus’ faithfulness. While Bates acknowledges that there are cases in Pauline writings in which pistis refers to intellectual assent to propositions, he maintains that it mostly means allegiance or loyalty in those writings. Bates attempts to demonstrate that his interpretation is consistent with the Pauline passages themselves.
—-Bates mediates between Protestant and Catholic views on justification (being righteous). Like Protestants, Bates maintains that justification includes imputation, God’s declaration that the believer is innocent and righteous, even if the believer practically falls short. Like Catholics, however, Bates holds that justification includes infused and imparted righteousness: that the believer is righteous in terms of his or her deeds, not just declared to be so. A significant aspect of Bates’ view on justification is believers’ union with Christ, a theme that appears in Pauline and Johannine writings. For Bates, when believers are united with Christ, they share Christ’s status as righteous and innocent, even though they fall short of Christ’s righteousness, and yet they also bear spiritual fruit (good works) in their union with Christ. Bates subsumes both imputed righteousness and practical righteousness under the category of justification and dismisses as unbiblical the Protestant belief that justification is imputed righteousness, whereas sanctification is the believer becoming practically righteousness.
—-For Bates, as part of one’s allegiance to Jesus, one needs to repent of sins and do good works if one wants to enter the good afterlife and avoid hell. Bates appeals to passages in the synoptic Gospels, Pauline writings, and Johannine writings to support this point. Bates also draws from John Barclay’s scholarship. According to Barclay, a gift in antiquity often entailed reciprocity on the part of the recipient. The same goes for those who receive God’s gift of salvation!
—-Bates contends that a key theme in the Scriptures is God dwelling with people on earth. For Bates, this will find its culmination in the eschaton, when God renews the earth and dwells therein. This, not heaven, is the hope of believers, as far as Bates is concerned.
—-Another key theme in the Scriptures, according to Bates, is that human beings were made in God’s image. Humans mediate the divine presence, as images (idols) were believed to mediate the divine in many pagan religions. For Bates, humans being in God’s image entails that they rule the earth as God’s representative, with justice and righteousness. Christ and believers will do so more fully in the eschaton. Moreover, one of Christ’s tasks was to renew the image of God in human beings so that they could be righteous, like God, and this occurs with believers (Colossians 3:10).
—-Bates argues that the Gospel is more about Jesus and how we participate in what he is doing, than it is about us being assured of personal forgiveness and having eternal life. For Bates, the Gospel states that Jesus pre-existed, came to earth as a human being, died for people’s sins to bring them forgiveness, and rose from the dead to a position of authority. Bates maintains that this Gospel is present throughout the New Testament and should be emphasized in Gospel presentations.
Here are some of my thoughts about this book:
A. I am giving this book four stars, even though I cannot say that I “like” the book (for reasons I will explain). Overall, the book argued its case rather effectively, and it also did well to mix relatable anecdotes with heavy theological discussion. (I think of Bates’ discussion of his vocational path and how he came to understand that in light of his beliefs about God’s renewal of the cosmos.) Bates was especially convincing in his argument that the New Testament holds that good works are necessary for final salvation. It is difficult to reconcile certain New Testament passages with ideas such as once-saved-always-saved, or the notion that all one has to do to be saved is to trust Christ, without avoiding sins or doing good works. Bates’ argument that Christ’s pre-existence is in the synoptic Gospels was not as strong, however.
B. That said, the book did depress me, a bit. “If that is how it is, then I might as well give up on salvation, since I will never be good enough!”, I thought (not that I have given up on salvation). To his credit, Bates did attempt to address pastoral questions: Does one’s allegiance have to be perfect for one to be saved? What is the minimum of obedience to God that is necessary for final salvation? Bates’ answers were not always helpful, though. For example, Bates said that we should look at our lives and make sure that we are repenting of the sins in Galatians 5:19-21, sins that Paul says can bar one from the Kingdom of God and eternal life. That may be faithful to what Paul is saying, but my problem is that many Christians define these sins rather broadly. Adultery is on the list. Remember that Jesus said in Matthew 5:28 that looking on a woman to lust after her is committing adultery in one’s heart. Does having sexual desire place one on the path to hell? Idolatry is on the list. There are Christians who define idolatry, not merely as worshiping images, but as looking to anything or anyone other to God for one’s fulfillment. Who isn’t guilty of that? Even if I were to tell God I was sorry for that, I would still do it, on some level, for it is part of who I am! Also on the list are enmity and envying. Does that mean a person would go to hell for not liking everyone, or for having negative feelings toward others? Can people eradicate such feelings from themselves? There are Christians who have reasonable answers to these questions; perhaps Bates could have engaged such questions better than he did, without going too far afield.
C. There was a lot of emphasis in this book on doing good works or avoiding sin as part of receiving final salvation. The book would have been better had it also emphasized God’s love, or God’s faithfulness towards human beings. Maybe Paul had the sort of soteriology that Bates thinks he had, but Paul also felt loved and accepted by Christ (Romans 5:8; Galatians 2:20). Paul thought that Christ had made Paul his own (Philippians 3:12) and that Paul would be with Christ after dying (Philippians 1:23).
D. In my opinion, Bates was rather inconsistent on faith and good works. Bates seemed to treat good works as part of one’s allegiance (pistis) to Christ, whereas Paul in Romans 4:5 distinguishes faith from works. Even though Bates believes that good works are necessary for final salvation, Bates stresses that we cannot earn our salvation: our good works are a result of God’s grace in Christ, after all, something that we neither earned nor deserved. Bates also employs the New Perspective on Paul in explaining the Pauline distinction between faith and works: we are saved by allegiance to Christ, not by obeying the Mosaic law or doing good works apart from Christ. You would think that Bates maintains that Paul is distinguishing Mosaic works, not good works in general, from allegiance to Christ. And yet, Bates also seems to maintain that Christ delivered us, in general, from a system that focused on rules. I question, though, whether one can embrace Bates’ soteriology and avoid that kind of rule-based system.
E. While a “trust-alone” Gospel does make me feel better, I identified with some of Bates’ practical critiques of this view. Bates said that there are Protestants who seem to stigmatize good works, treating them as an attempt to earn God’s approval, which contrasts with passively trusting Christ for salvation. In my opinion, that particular Protestant viewpoint (not that all Protestants hold it) is itself discouraging. If I do good works, how can I be sure that I am not doing them to earn God’s approval? Should I not do them? Will I go to hell if I do them to earn God’s approval, even in the tiniest bit? I think that the doctrine of hell can ruin a lot of people’s spiritual lives, making them feel that they have to have all their ducks in a row to avoid going there. This can occur when one adds good works as a requirement for salvation, but also if one holds that trust-alone is the requirement for salvation.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Netgalley. My review is honest!
Monday, March 27, 2017
Book Write-Up: Achaia, by Ronald Beckham
Ronald Beckham. Achaia: The Days of Noah. WestBow Press, 2016. See here to buy the book.
Achaia is largely set in antediluvian times, but it ends with the Flood. Ronald Beckham depicts the antediluvian period as one of technological advancement. In Beckham’s telling, there were radios, bombs, and missiles that were launched into outer space back in those days. There was also aircraft, some of which consisted of flying dinosaurs.
This aspect of the book intrigued me, though I think that it went too far. I remember listening to a sermon a while back, and the preacher speculated that God destroyed the animals in the Flood because people had been cross-breeding them. Some—-not experts, mind you, but armchair interpreters of the Bible—-have speculated that the antediluvian period may have been more advanced than people think. There may be nothing whatsoever to that idea, but it can provide fodder for the imagination. I wonder if Beckham could have explored that idea, without going as far as he did.
Portraying the antediluvian period as technologically advanced—-as advanced as today—-is not very realistic. If people were so advanced back then, why couldn’t they survive the Flood? To his credit, Beckham actually addresses this question. Elihu, of Book of Job fame, invents his own craft to survive the Flood, just in case Noah is right. But meteors are falling from the sky, after people of earth destroy the planet Ariel in fear that there was life there, and Elihu’s craft gets destroyed. Okay, fine, then why was Noah’s Ark safe from all that? I suppose the answer would be divine protection!
The book depicts conflicts among Sethites, Cainites, and Nephiliim. Their conflicts with each other were bloody, since Genesis 6 depicts the antediluvian time as a time of violence. But, in Beckham’s telling, they also had their own ideological approaches to religion, history, and their own identity, as they took the Adamic religion in their own directions. Meanwhile, there were Cainites who were trying to get back into the Garden of Eden. And not all of the Cainites were bad people. All of this was intriguing, but there could have been more of this sort of thing in the book. Elihu was a character in this book, for example, and I don’t recall reading any of his theological reflections, though he shared a lot of them in the Book of Job!
Regarding the Nephiliim, Beckham went the route of portraying them as the offspring of the Sethites and the Cainites. For some reason, the Nephiliim thought they were superior to others. This would have made more sense, had Beckham portrayed them as the offspring of divine beings and human women!
The prose of the book was fine, but the organization of the book had its pluses and minuses. The book was organized rather episodically. There would be a short section about a character, and the section would share his or her reflections. On the one hand, this allowed the book to present a variety of perspectives. On the other hand, it hindered the book from flowing smoothly.
One part of the book that I particularly liked was when Noah brought sources onto the Ark: Adam’s creation hymn (presumably Genesis 1), the Book of the Generations of Adam (which is in Genesis), and the Book of Job. Some conservative scholars say that Moses used sources in writing the Book of Genesis, which advocates of the Documentary Hypothesis would dispute. Beckham obviously went with the former view.
Beckham’s book is a good idea, even if it could have been better.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through BookLook Bloggers. My review is honest!
Achaia is largely set in antediluvian times, but it ends with the Flood. Ronald Beckham depicts the antediluvian period as one of technological advancement. In Beckham’s telling, there were radios, bombs, and missiles that were launched into outer space back in those days. There was also aircraft, some of which consisted of flying dinosaurs.
This aspect of the book intrigued me, though I think that it went too far. I remember listening to a sermon a while back, and the preacher speculated that God destroyed the animals in the Flood because people had been cross-breeding them. Some—-not experts, mind you, but armchair interpreters of the Bible—-have speculated that the antediluvian period may have been more advanced than people think. There may be nothing whatsoever to that idea, but it can provide fodder for the imagination. I wonder if Beckham could have explored that idea, without going as far as he did.
Portraying the antediluvian period as technologically advanced—-as advanced as today—-is not very realistic. If people were so advanced back then, why couldn’t they survive the Flood? To his credit, Beckham actually addresses this question. Elihu, of Book of Job fame, invents his own craft to survive the Flood, just in case Noah is right. But meteors are falling from the sky, after people of earth destroy the planet Ariel in fear that there was life there, and Elihu’s craft gets destroyed. Okay, fine, then why was Noah’s Ark safe from all that? I suppose the answer would be divine protection!
The book depicts conflicts among Sethites, Cainites, and Nephiliim. Their conflicts with each other were bloody, since Genesis 6 depicts the antediluvian time as a time of violence. But, in Beckham’s telling, they also had their own ideological approaches to religion, history, and their own identity, as they took the Adamic religion in their own directions. Meanwhile, there were Cainites who were trying to get back into the Garden of Eden. And not all of the Cainites were bad people. All of this was intriguing, but there could have been more of this sort of thing in the book. Elihu was a character in this book, for example, and I don’t recall reading any of his theological reflections, though he shared a lot of them in the Book of Job!
Regarding the Nephiliim, Beckham went the route of portraying them as the offspring of the Sethites and the Cainites. For some reason, the Nephiliim thought they were superior to others. This would have made more sense, had Beckham portrayed them as the offspring of divine beings and human women!
The prose of the book was fine, but the organization of the book had its pluses and minuses. The book was organized rather episodically. There would be a short section about a character, and the section would share his or her reflections. On the one hand, this allowed the book to present a variety of perspectives. On the other hand, it hindered the book from flowing smoothly.
One part of the book that I particularly liked was when Noah brought sources onto the Ark: Adam’s creation hymn (presumably Genesis 1), the Book of the Generations of Adam (which is in Genesis), and the Book of Job. Some conservative scholars say that Moses used sources in writing the Book of Genesis, which advocates of the Documentary Hypothesis would dispute. Beckham obviously went with the former view.
Beckham’s book is a good idea, even if it could have been better.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through BookLook Bloggers. My review is honest!
Thursday, March 23, 2017
Church Write-Up: The Imperfect and the Stunted
I have two items for my Church Write-Up this week.
A. Last Sunday, I visited a Missouri Synod Lutheran church. The theme of the service was lament. Preaching about Psalm 31:9-16, the pastor said that the Psalmist offers to God his sadness. The pastor remarked that this is odd: Are we not supposed to offer God our best? Why is God willing, even eager, to take the Psalmist’s sadness? The answer is that it’s because God loves us.
The Psalms are raw and honest. The Psalmist does not always manifest a joyful, forgiving attitude! And this is ironic, considering that God in the Book of Leviticus desires pure, unblemished sacrifices. Moreover, Jesus in Mark 11:25 tells his disciples to forgive as they stand praying, and God will forgive their trespasses. Does this imply that God needs to forgive us to hear our prayers, and God will forgive us only if we forgive others? On that note, see Tim Challies’ Six Ways to Hinder Your Prayers.
Is there tension within the Bible, on this issue? On the one hand, God hears imperfect people, with imperfect attitudes. On the other hand, God desires perfection.
Christians may respond to these questions in a variety of ways. One way is to say that God hears the prayers of sinners when they are covered with the blood of Christ. We are imperfect, but Christ our sacrifice is perfect, and that is how God hears the prayers of sinful people. Another way is to say that God will hear us if we are on the right track, or at least try to be on the right track. To refer to the Challies post, many Christians will find that they fall short on that list. Their obedience is partial and imperfect. Their forgiveness falls short. They cannot eradicate every trace of doubt. They fail in being perfectly kind to others. But are they at least trying to do the right thing? Are they growing in doing the right thing? For many Christians, God honors such an attitude and hears the prayers of those who hold it.
Speaking for myself personally, I know that I fall short, even in trying to have the right attitude and to do the right thing! I am grateful for God’s law because it challenges me and upholds a righteous standard, but I know that I need God’s mercy. I do not know if my attitude is good enough for God to hear my prayer, but my policy is to pray, and whether God listens to me or not is in God’s court.
B. I also listened to a sermon delivered at the church that I normally attend. The pastor was continuing a series on prayer. He was baffled that a person can be a Christian and yet not pray.
I have actually thought about this issue before. Years ago, I read a blog post by a woman who had been a Christian for decades, and yet she confessed that years went by in which she did not pray or read the Bible. That baffled me. How can one be a Christian without cultivating one’s relationship with God in prayer, or deriving nourishment from the Scriptures?
I can ask that question, and yet other Christians can look at me and find my Christian practice deficient. Prayer and Bible study come easy to me because I can do those things by myself: they do not necessarily involve interpersonal interaction. But I struggle with the practices that involve interpersonal interaction. Consequently, Christians can ask: How can James be a Christian and not reach out to others with love? How can James be a Christian and not be motivated to serve?
I learned a while back that there are plenty of Christians who struggle with prayer. They do not know what to say to God. It is awkward for them. They may excel at serving or reaching out to others or witnessing, but personal prayer is a challenge to them. That Christian woman who went years without prayer may have felt that she was practicing her faith in other ways: by being a kind, loving person, and by basing the way that she lives her life on the love of Christ.
I am reading a book called The Teaching of the Buddha. On page 178, we read: “Therefore, to believe in the Dharma and to cherish the Brotherhood is to have faith in the Buddha, and to have faith in the Buddha is to believe in the Dharma and to cherish the Brotherhood.”
The Dharma is the path that the Buddha commands, and the Brotherhood is a group of people who are committed to following those commands.
That passage reminds me of certain Scriptures. Love for God entails love for one’s brother or sister (I John 4:21). Jesus in John 14:23 says that those who love him will obey his teaching.
It sounds automatic, doesn’t it? And, on some level, that makes sense. If I love God, I will value those God loves, God’s people. If I am secure in God’s love for me, that will enable me to love others, even if they hurt me. In Buddhist terms, if one walks the Buddhist path and becomes clean of greed and covetous desires, one will get along better with those in the Brotherhood. The human flaws that hinder relationships will not be a problem.
But this is easier said than done, and people, in their own lives, may not find that B naturally follows A, assuming one can even get A right in the first place!
A. Last Sunday, I visited a Missouri Synod Lutheran church. The theme of the service was lament. Preaching about Psalm 31:9-16, the pastor said that the Psalmist offers to God his sadness. The pastor remarked that this is odd: Are we not supposed to offer God our best? Why is God willing, even eager, to take the Psalmist’s sadness? The answer is that it’s because God loves us.
The Psalms are raw and honest. The Psalmist does not always manifest a joyful, forgiving attitude! And this is ironic, considering that God in the Book of Leviticus desires pure, unblemished sacrifices. Moreover, Jesus in Mark 11:25 tells his disciples to forgive as they stand praying, and God will forgive their trespasses. Does this imply that God needs to forgive us to hear our prayers, and God will forgive us only if we forgive others? On that note, see Tim Challies’ Six Ways to Hinder Your Prayers.
Is there tension within the Bible, on this issue? On the one hand, God hears imperfect people, with imperfect attitudes. On the other hand, God desires perfection.
Christians may respond to these questions in a variety of ways. One way is to say that God hears the prayers of sinners when they are covered with the blood of Christ. We are imperfect, but Christ our sacrifice is perfect, and that is how God hears the prayers of sinful people. Another way is to say that God will hear us if we are on the right track, or at least try to be on the right track. To refer to the Challies post, many Christians will find that they fall short on that list. Their obedience is partial and imperfect. Their forgiveness falls short. They cannot eradicate every trace of doubt. They fail in being perfectly kind to others. But are they at least trying to do the right thing? Are they growing in doing the right thing? For many Christians, God honors such an attitude and hears the prayers of those who hold it.
Speaking for myself personally, I know that I fall short, even in trying to have the right attitude and to do the right thing! I am grateful for God’s law because it challenges me and upholds a righteous standard, but I know that I need God’s mercy. I do not know if my attitude is good enough for God to hear my prayer, but my policy is to pray, and whether God listens to me or not is in God’s court.
B. I also listened to a sermon delivered at the church that I normally attend. The pastor was continuing a series on prayer. He was baffled that a person can be a Christian and yet not pray.
I have actually thought about this issue before. Years ago, I read a blog post by a woman who had been a Christian for decades, and yet she confessed that years went by in which she did not pray or read the Bible. That baffled me. How can one be a Christian without cultivating one’s relationship with God in prayer, or deriving nourishment from the Scriptures?
I can ask that question, and yet other Christians can look at me and find my Christian practice deficient. Prayer and Bible study come easy to me because I can do those things by myself: they do not necessarily involve interpersonal interaction. But I struggle with the practices that involve interpersonal interaction. Consequently, Christians can ask: How can James be a Christian and not reach out to others with love? How can James be a Christian and not be motivated to serve?
I learned a while back that there are plenty of Christians who struggle with prayer. They do not know what to say to God. It is awkward for them. They may excel at serving or reaching out to others or witnessing, but personal prayer is a challenge to them. That Christian woman who went years without prayer may have felt that she was practicing her faith in other ways: by being a kind, loving person, and by basing the way that she lives her life on the love of Christ.
I am reading a book called The Teaching of the Buddha. On page 178, we read: “Therefore, to believe in the Dharma and to cherish the Brotherhood is to have faith in the Buddha, and to have faith in the Buddha is to believe in the Dharma and to cherish the Brotherhood.”
The Dharma is the path that the Buddha commands, and the Brotherhood is a group of people who are committed to following those commands.
That passage reminds me of certain Scriptures. Love for God entails love for one’s brother or sister (I John 4:21). Jesus in John 14:23 says that those who love him will obey his teaching.
It sounds automatic, doesn’t it? And, on some level, that makes sense. If I love God, I will value those God loves, God’s people. If I am secure in God’s love for me, that will enable me to love others, even if they hurt me. In Buddhist terms, if one walks the Buddhist path and becomes clean of greed and covetous desires, one will get along better with those in the Brotherhood. The human flaws that hinder relationships will not be a problem.
But this is easier said than done, and people, in their own lives, may not find that B naturally follows A, assuming one can even get A right in the first place!
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Book Write-Up: The Resurrection Fact
John J. Bombaro and Adam S. Francisco. The Resurrection Fact: Responding to Modern Critics. New Reformation Publications, 2016. See here to purchase the book.
Allow me to quote the description of the book on Amazon, before I offer my thoughts about it. The description says who wrote the book, the book’s general perspective, and the book’s intended audience.
“As this team did with the book, ‘Making The Case For Christianity’ (CPH), Drs. Bombaro and Francisco bring together a variety of contemporary Lutheran apologists to respond to a wide array of challenges to the heart of the Christian Faith. Each chapter addresses a specific argument from a popular, non-Christian author and offer a clear and concise rebuttal and argument for the resurrection. The editors have found able representatives from the disciplines of biblical studies, history, philosophy, and the legal profession to write each chapter. The book is accessible, written for a broad audience, and is ultimately designed to equip its readers for the apologetics task.”
Now for my thoughts:
A. Whenever I see a book like this, I wonder if it will contribute anything new to the discussion. So many Christian apologetic books have already been written defending the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection. Does this book contribute anything new? I will later detail what I learned from this book, but, in response to the question of whether it contributes anything earth-shakingly new to the debate, I would say that it does not. It responds to skeptics with the usual apologetic spiel, even though many of those skeptics have already raised objections to that spiel. How about responding to their objections to the spiel, rather than regurgitating the spiel itself? I will address how they could have done this in the next item.
B. I have heard that, in writing a book review, I should avoid talking about the book that I wish the authors had written and instead focus on the book as it is. I am going to depart from that rule in this item because I do believe that there are things that the authors could have done to make this book better. This book could have responded to skeptics without regurgitating the usual apologetic spiel, while still being accessible to a broad audience who would not want to get lost in scholarly minutiae. It could have done so by interacting with specific topics. For example, there is the debate about whether Jesus’ resurrection in Paul’s writings was an exchange of a physical body for a spiritual body (while the physical body remains in the grave) or a resuscitation and transformation of a body: the latter option implies the empty tomb, which apologists deem to be physical evidence for Jesus’ resurrection, whereas the former does not. There is debate about whether Second Temple Judaism had a conception of resurrection that was a bodily exchange rather than a bodily transformation; this is significant because apologists in this book assert that Second Temple Judaism only conceived of resurrection as physical transformation of a dead body into a living body. On that basis, they argue that Jesus’ resurrection was physical, meaning early Christian belief in Jesus’ resurrection arose from Jesus’ resurrection itself and not from seeing a ghost. Another debate is whether there are parallels between the Gospels’ resurrection stories and themes in Greco-Roman literature; one author in the book briefly touches on this, but more discussion would have been helpful. And, if one wants to respond to Bart Ehrman’s textual critical arguments, how about engaging some of the texts that he cites—-the texts that he believes reflect theological revision on the part of the proto-orthodox scribes—-rather than casually dismissing Ehrman’s argument by saying that most of the differences among New Testament versions are theologically insignificant? Such discussions would have responded to skeptics in a fruitful, engaging, fairer, and more interesting manner. It also would have brought these debates to a broader audience.
C. The description of the book highlighted that the apologists were Lutheran, and that made me wonder if they would add a distinct Lutheran perspective to the debate. I saw that in this book occasionally. The author of the introduction lists among his pieces of evidence for Jesus’ resurrection “the continual assertion by the disciples and apostles that the living Christ was with them in the Eucharist and governing them by his Spirit…” I vaguely recall a reference to baptismal regeneration. There was also a discussion of Martin Luther’s conception of faith. Overall, though, the distinctly Lutheran references were rare. Much of the book was the usual apologetic spiel!
D. I did learn things from this book. A few of the authors referred to scholar Craig Evans’ scholarship on Jewish burial. They argued that the Sanhedrin ensured that crucified Jewish bodies were disposed of properly, and that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus may have been commissioned by the Sanhedrin to ensure Jesus’ burial. That may differ from seeing Joseph and Nicodemus as nobly stepping forward out of devotion to Jesus (see John 19:38-39), but it does coincide with Acts 13:28-29’s statement that the Jewish leaders as a whole buried Jesus.
Mark Pierson refers to a scholarly source that disagrees with the idea that Papias was historically unreliable. Papias is a significant figure in debates about whether the Gospels are based on eyewitness testimony.
Another author referred to a book about rabbinic views on Jesus’ resurrection, and another author mentioned Christian writings as early as the sixteenth century (maybe earlier) that tried to harmonize the Gospels’ resurrection stories.
C.J. Armstrong and Andrew DeLoach explore the nuances of mystery religions, including the question of whether they focused on the afterlife. They also discussed the difficulty in ascertaining what the Mithra cult actually believed. Their essay was probably the best in the book, even though it could have been more consistent. (Was Jesus myth entering historical reality, or was Jesus different from other mythical figures? The authors claimed both.)
E. Back to the issue of Jewish burial practices, John Bombaro states in the book that “Scholarly opinion agrees with Craig that the Jews of Jesus’s day fastidiously observed Torah burial mandates regardless of the deceased’s economic status and circumstances.” Relying on the synoptic Gospels, however, a number of Christians believe that the Jewish authorities transgressed a lot of Passover laws in trying Jesus (Craig Parton refers to this issue in an endnote). Were the Jewish authorities fastidious in their Torah observance or not?
F. I think that the book based some of its prominent arguments on certain assumptions. More than one author said that the disciples could not have stolen Jesus’ corpse from the tomb because guards were at the tomb site, as the Gospel of Matthew states. That assumes that the Gospel of Matthew was historically accurate on this detail. The Gospel of Mark, which many scholars believe is earlier, does not say there were guards at Jesus’ tomb. More than one author said that the Roman and Jewish authorities would have presented Jesus’ corpse to the public to refute the emerging Christian movement, had Jesus’ tomb not been empty. That assumes that the Roman and Jewish authorities were preoccupied with Christianity. A few authors said that early Christian eyewitnesses would have prevented historically-inaccurate details from getting into the Gospels, but were things really that neat?
G. A few authors attempted to refute the skeptical idea that people in the first century were especially gullible, and thus we cannot trust the early Christian claim that Jesus rose from the dead. They did not engage the examples that Richard Carrier has cited of this. And yet, one of the authors did well to observe that the disciples in the Gospels were initially skeptical after hearing that Jesus rose from the dead. Granted, Jesus seems to rebuke their skepticism (Luke 24:25; John 20:29), but the Gospels present the disciples as the opposite of gullible, perhaps showing some respect for critical thought.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Cross Focused Reviews. My review is honest!
Allow me to quote the description of the book on Amazon, before I offer my thoughts about it. The description says who wrote the book, the book’s general perspective, and the book’s intended audience.
“As this team did with the book, ‘Making The Case For Christianity’ (CPH), Drs. Bombaro and Francisco bring together a variety of contemporary Lutheran apologists to respond to a wide array of challenges to the heart of the Christian Faith. Each chapter addresses a specific argument from a popular, non-Christian author and offer a clear and concise rebuttal and argument for the resurrection. The editors have found able representatives from the disciplines of biblical studies, history, philosophy, and the legal profession to write each chapter. The book is accessible, written for a broad audience, and is ultimately designed to equip its readers for the apologetics task.”
Now for my thoughts:
A. Whenever I see a book like this, I wonder if it will contribute anything new to the discussion. So many Christian apologetic books have already been written defending the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection. Does this book contribute anything new? I will later detail what I learned from this book, but, in response to the question of whether it contributes anything earth-shakingly new to the debate, I would say that it does not. It responds to skeptics with the usual apologetic spiel, even though many of those skeptics have already raised objections to that spiel. How about responding to their objections to the spiel, rather than regurgitating the spiel itself? I will address how they could have done this in the next item.
B. I have heard that, in writing a book review, I should avoid talking about the book that I wish the authors had written and instead focus on the book as it is. I am going to depart from that rule in this item because I do believe that there are things that the authors could have done to make this book better. This book could have responded to skeptics without regurgitating the usual apologetic spiel, while still being accessible to a broad audience who would not want to get lost in scholarly minutiae. It could have done so by interacting with specific topics. For example, there is the debate about whether Jesus’ resurrection in Paul’s writings was an exchange of a physical body for a spiritual body (while the physical body remains in the grave) or a resuscitation and transformation of a body: the latter option implies the empty tomb, which apologists deem to be physical evidence for Jesus’ resurrection, whereas the former does not. There is debate about whether Second Temple Judaism had a conception of resurrection that was a bodily exchange rather than a bodily transformation; this is significant because apologists in this book assert that Second Temple Judaism only conceived of resurrection as physical transformation of a dead body into a living body. On that basis, they argue that Jesus’ resurrection was physical, meaning early Christian belief in Jesus’ resurrection arose from Jesus’ resurrection itself and not from seeing a ghost. Another debate is whether there are parallels between the Gospels’ resurrection stories and themes in Greco-Roman literature; one author in the book briefly touches on this, but more discussion would have been helpful. And, if one wants to respond to Bart Ehrman’s textual critical arguments, how about engaging some of the texts that he cites—-the texts that he believes reflect theological revision on the part of the proto-orthodox scribes—-rather than casually dismissing Ehrman’s argument by saying that most of the differences among New Testament versions are theologically insignificant? Such discussions would have responded to skeptics in a fruitful, engaging, fairer, and more interesting manner. It also would have brought these debates to a broader audience.
C. The description of the book highlighted that the apologists were Lutheran, and that made me wonder if they would add a distinct Lutheran perspective to the debate. I saw that in this book occasionally. The author of the introduction lists among his pieces of evidence for Jesus’ resurrection “the continual assertion by the disciples and apostles that the living Christ was with them in the Eucharist and governing them by his Spirit…” I vaguely recall a reference to baptismal regeneration. There was also a discussion of Martin Luther’s conception of faith. Overall, though, the distinctly Lutheran references were rare. Much of the book was the usual apologetic spiel!
D. I did learn things from this book. A few of the authors referred to scholar Craig Evans’ scholarship on Jewish burial. They argued that the Sanhedrin ensured that crucified Jewish bodies were disposed of properly, and that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus may have been commissioned by the Sanhedrin to ensure Jesus’ burial. That may differ from seeing Joseph and Nicodemus as nobly stepping forward out of devotion to Jesus (see John 19:38-39), but it does coincide with Acts 13:28-29’s statement that the Jewish leaders as a whole buried Jesus.
Mark Pierson refers to a scholarly source that disagrees with the idea that Papias was historically unreliable. Papias is a significant figure in debates about whether the Gospels are based on eyewitness testimony.
Another author referred to a book about rabbinic views on Jesus’ resurrection, and another author mentioned Christian writings as early as the sixteenth century (maybe earlier) that tried to harmonize the Gospels’ resurrection stories.
C.J. Armstrong and Andrew DeLoach explore the nuances of mystery religions, including the question of whether they focused on the afterlife. They also discussed the difficulty in ascertaining what the Mithra cult actually believed. Their essay was probably the best in the book, even though it could have been more consistent. (Was Jesus myth entering historical reality, or was Jesus different from other mythical figures? The authors claimed both.)
E. Back to the issue of Jewish burial practices, John Bombaro states in the book that “Scholarly opinion agrees with Craig that the Jews of Jesus’s day fastidiously observed Torah burial mandates regardless of the deceased’s economic status and circumstances.” Relying on the synoptic Gospels, however, a number of Christians believe that the Jewish authorities transgressed a lot of Passover laws in trying Jesus (Craig Parton refers to this issue in an endnote). Were the Jewish authorities fastidious in their Torah observance or not?
F. I think that the book based some of its prominent arguments on certain assumptions. More than one author said that the disciples could not have stolen Jesus’ corpse from the tomb because guards were at the tomb site, as the Gospel of Matthew states. That assumes that the Gospel of Matthew was historically accurate on this detail. The Gospel of Mark, which many scholars believe is earlier, does not say there were guards at Jesus’ tomb. More than one author said that the Roman and Jewish authorities would have presented Jesus’ corpse to the public to refute the emerging Christian movement, had Jesus’ tomb not been empty. That assumes that the Roman and Jewish authorities were preoccupied with Christianity. A few authors said that early Christian eyewitnesses would have prevented historically-inaccurate details from getting into the Gospels, but were things really that neat?
G. A few authors attempted to refute the skeptical idea that people in the first century were especially gullible, and thus we cannot trust the early Christian claim that Jesus rose from the dead. They did not engage the examples that Richard Carrier has cited of this. And yet, one of the authors did well to observe that the disciples in the Gospels were initially skeptical after hearing that Jesus rose from the dead. Granted, Jesus seems to rebuke their skepticism (Luke 24:25; John 20:29), but the Gospels present the disciples as the opposite of gullible, perhaps showing some respect for critical thought.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Cross Focused Reviews. My review is honest!
Labels:
Apologetics,
Bible,
Religion,
Resurrection
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