Randal Rauser's Blog, page 113

Inerrancy: Still Hazy After All These Years

I grew up in a Pentecostal fundagelical church where we prided ourselves on taking Scripture seriously. That meant, among other things, a commitment to literal interpretation. From a literal six days of creation to a literal thousand year millennium, we took Scripture in what we believed to be the natural sense. And that meant reading it, ahem, like a newspaper.

Literal interpretation aside, if there was one doctrine that demonstrated our commitment to Scripture, it was biblical inerrancy. We thought of the Bible as a repository of propositions describing God and our relationship with him. And inerrancy promised that every one of those propositions was a fact. Since we imagined doctrine to consist of simple deduction from the Bible, inerrancy thereby provided confidence in the facts of Christian doctrine from creation to new creation.

Our bold and clear doctrine of inerrancy contrasted with the weak and woolly liberal descriptions of biblical authority. More than once I heard my fellow fundagelical Christians joke that trying to get a liberal clear on the inspiration and authority of the Bible was about as easy as nailing Jell-O to a wall.

That’s the way I used to see things. However, today I view matters very differently. Indeed, it now seems to me that if any view of Scripture is liable to the charge of Jell-O nailed to the wall, it is – ironically enough – that of inerrancy itself. Indeed, once we begin asking some basic questions we soon find the doctrine dissolving before our eyes.

Do we read the Bible in the original languages?

We should begin by underscoring the fact that inerrancy has been regularly invoked as a way to secure confidence in the authority of scriptural revelation. But there is a rather glaring problem with this notion, one that I never really considered growing up: translation.

You see, very few Christians are able to read the Bible in the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek languages. On the contrary, we almost inevitably read the Bible in translation. And as the saying goes, much is lost in translation.

Indeed, there is an old Rabbinic saying that he who translates is a liar and he who paraphrases is a blasphemer. The point is not that translation is altogether impossible but rather that perfect translation is impossible. And that means that every translation is, to some degree, a compromise which either loses some meaning from the source language or adds some meaning from the receptor language … or both.

That’s one reason that we are well served by using a variety of translations: the NIV, the NRSV, the ESV, the Message, and so on. But while many translations are useful, the fact remains that no translation is inerrant. And if our only Bible is a translated one, then we don’t have access to an inerrant Bible, period.

Do we have the autographa?

If translation were the only obstacle to achieving inerrancy, then you might think that an inerrant Bible is still within our grasp, at least in principle. All we need to do is to learn Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek to get to the original inerrant Bible. Not easy of course, but at least possible.

The problem, as I soon discovered, is that we don’t have the original copies of the biblical documents (what scholars call the autographa). Instead, all we have are copies of copies (of copies). To be sure, given the thousands of manuscripts in the early church, we can reconstruct the original form of the New Testament documents with a high degree of confidence. (Alas, the Hebrew Scriptures are a very different, and more complicated, matter.)

But make no mistake: reconstructing the original forms of the texts with a high degree of confidence is not the same as having the inerrant originals. The fact remains that we only have the errant copies of the originals.

When we consider that both our translations and the extant manuscripts in the original languages are errant, it becomes clear that inerrancy is now twice removed. 

Do all books of the Bible trace back to an original (inerrant) autograph?

It gets worse. Let’s return to the notion of an inerrant autograph. We may have no trouble conceiving such a thing in the case of a text like Paul’s brief letter to Philemon. But many other biblical books have a very complex history of development. A text like Genesis or Isaiah was likely formed over decades if not centuries sections of text were written, revised, and gradually edited together by one or more redactors until they resulted in the books we have now.

Consequently, in the case of many books of the Bible, the very notion of an autograph – an original form of the text – may not make much sense. And with a long, fluid, and complex compositional history from the first jots and tittles written on some papyrus down to the extant manuscripts we do have, there is no single original autograph. In short, the doctrine of inerrancy begins to look like a benighted category error. 

What good is an inerrant text in the hands of an errant reader?

Finally, we come to what may be the most disconcerting and yet baldly undeniable fact of all: we are fallible readers.

As a case in point, at the beginning of this article I noted that as a fundagelical I learned to interpret the Bible literally straight from the six days of creation to the thousand year millennium. In university I majored in English literature and during that time I quickly realized that this is a terribly naïve way to read texts. The first step in interpretation involves the question of literary genre. And the Bible is no different in this regard. It is a complex library of texts written in a variety of genres and if we don’t begin by heeding the text and its context, we will be prone to some embarrassingly bad misreading.

To put it bluntly, what good is an inerrant text in the hands of highly errant readers?

Still Hazy after All These Years

Growing up, I believed that inerrancy was an essential doctrine for protecting Scripture’s authority, for under-girding confidence in doctrine, and for demarcating the boundaries of evangelical conviction.

It now seems to me that I was mistaken on all counts. The doctrine of inerrancy does nothing for the protection of doctrine which is not already secured by plenary inspiration. It turns out that its promise of maximal certainty is a chimera when considered in the light of textual and human fallibility. And when it comes to guarding the boundaries of an orthodox commitment to Scripture, one might call the focus on inerrancy misguided at best.

How ironic that a doctrine long touted for its ability to secure boundaries and offer clarity and confidence should still be so hazy after all these years.

* * *

For more on my journey out of a fundagelical view of the Bible, read my book What’s So Confusing About Grace?

The post Inerrancy: Still Hazy After All These Years appeared first on Randal Rauser.

The Humility of True Leaders

The other morning I was watching MSNBC Live with Stephanie Ruhle, guest hosted by Chris Jansing. In the segment Jansing was interacting with a panel including a general in the United States army. At one point she referred to the general as a “sergeant”.

Oops! That’s a significant faux pas!

Immediately, Jansing caught herself and, with some embarrassment, apologetically mused, “I demoted you!”

Without missing a beat, the general replied, “No you didn’t. I got to be a general by listening to sergeants.”

In many ways, it was a minor exchange, a mere blip in the black hole of uncouth incivility that appears to be gaining a grip on the public square. Nonetheless, like a single star twinkling on an inky black background, that general’s reply reflected the civility, humility, and class of true leadership.

The post The Humility of True Leaders appeared first on Randal Rauser.

When Christian fundamentalism is at its ugliest

The feud between Donald Trump and Rep. Frederica Wilson has been ugly. (While all of Trump’s feuds are ugly, this is uglier than most) Particularly disappointing have been the disparaging attacks directed at Wilson herself. On that score the biggest disappointment was no doubt John Kelly’s decision to disparage her as an “empty barrel” and to spread falsehoods about her. But if that was the most disappointing attack, in my opinion the ugliest attack — at least in mainstream media interviews — came on Fox Business:

“It is the height of hypocrisy for this whacko [sic] rhinestone-cowboy congresswoman to accuse the president of insensitivity when, in fact, she’s the one who is exploiting the widow’s pain for her own partisan gain.” (source)

I don’t claim that Wilson is without fault in this whole matter. But I will also point out that her comments were borne by a long term, deeply personal relationship with this specific family. And I’ll also add that her choice in headwear is informed by her love of and desire to emulate her grandmother. And of course, this whole sorry spiral began when Trump criticized Barack Obama, so to charge Wilson with hypocrisy for partisan gain is a bit rich.

And who was the nasty speaker of this callow insult? It was Robert Jeffress, a fundamentalist Baptist pastor and author of a new book on heaven (one that will no doubt sell many more copies than mine, not least because it has Trump’s personal endorsement).

Think about that. A Caucasian Baptist pastor attacked a respected black female politician,  one who is beloved of her constituents and who has a noble history of social action, by disparaging her as a “wacko rhinestone-cowboy congresswoman”.

But why am I surprised? Among other things, Jeffress has called the Catholic Church the “whore of Babylon” as it reflects the “genius of Satan”; and he has insisted that 9/11 reflects God’s judgment for abortion. (source)

All this is ugly indeed. I might have found some solace, however, if I knew that Jeffress pastored but a few dozen people. On the contrary, his church boasts over 12,000 congregants on a weekend. That’s 12,000 people who are sufficiently comfortable with a lead pastor who behaves in this grotesque manner.

And that’s 12,000 reasons to be depressed.

The post When Christian fundamentalism is at its ugliest appeared first on Randal Rauser.

The Storymen Podcast on What’s So Confusing About Grace?

This week I was pleased to be a guest yet again on one of my favorite podcasts, The Storymen Podcast, with JR. Forasteros, Matt Mikalatos, and Clay Morgan. The interview is a foray through evangelical Christianity, grace, salvation, and a healthy dose of pop culture. You can visit the podcast below.

The StoryMen Podcast

The post The Storymen Podcast on What’s So Confusing About Grace? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Which Conversations Will You Sponsor?

In my previous article, “If you don’t debate young earth creationists, are you stifling the debate?” I argued for the general policy of not debating with young earth creationists or giving them a platform. One of my readers, Mark, expressed some reluctance with this policy. The concern was free speech. He wrote:

“I am a pretty big fan of free speech and the exchange of ideas, even ideas that I hate and that I personally think are harmful….”

No surprise, that would include young earth creationists.

I’m going to interact with Mark’s comment in a moment. But first a qualification for my original statement. Three years ago I did interview young earth creationist Terry Mortenson on my podcast (unfortunately, the audio is not presently available) and I found Dr. Mortenson to be a pleasant individual. What is more, I do think that as a general principle there is value in respecting dissenting opinions, not least because they serve as a counterbalance to the hegemony of settled opinion.

For those reasons I wouldn’t defend any universal prohibition on intellectual debates and exchanges with young earth creationists. Nonetheless I would continue to insist that they are on balance unfruitful for the reasons I’ve already given.

Having said that, let me return to Mark’s statement that he is a fan of free speech and the exchange of ideas, even those he hates and believes to be harmful. I know what Mark is saying. In the words of Evelyn Beatrice Hall (often incorrectly attributed to Voltaire), “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” And I will surely defend the young earth creationist’s right to say what they believe. (Will I defend it to the death? Probably not. To be honest, I value my life over the young earth creationist’s right to free speech: crass, I know, but at least I’m honest. Still, I will defend their right in my blog, and that ain’t nothing.)

The real question, as I see it, is not about the right to hold a view or have a conversation. Rather, the question is whether an individual or institution that provides a platform for exchanges chooses to sponsor a particular conversation.

Now here’s a true story. The year is 2002 and I am attending my first meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society in Colorado Springs, Colorado. (It’s November and I’m sleeping in my station wagon. But that’s another story.) I’m excited to join the guild and so I’ve lined up a list of talks I want to attend.

Unbeknownst to me, the very first talk I planned to attend is shifted to another room. When I realize the fact it is already too late — the new presenter is just beginning his paper — and so I decide to stay and listen to the presenter as much out of courtesy as anything.

What followed was a surreal experience. After a few increasingly uncomfortable minutes it became painfully clear that the man speaking at the front of the room was a holocaust denier. And his paper on “church history” was, among other things, an attempt to rewrite Holocaust history.

The only thing I remember about that paper was an attempt to redefine the Holocaust. This is not to say that the paper didn’t technically belong at the conference. For all I know, the man’s focus on church history may well have fit his paper under the aegis of the Evangelical Theological Society.

And if there is an idea I hate and that I personally think is harmful, this is it. So in that sense I respect the man’s right to say what he said.

But it doesn’t follow that ETS needed to provide him the platform. The point is that every individual and every institution decides what its boundaries are and thus which conversations it does, and does not, wish to sponsor. A healthy individual and institution will choose to sponsor many conversations despite the fact that he/she/it believes one side is critically wrong. But there are limits. There is a point where one says that conversation is not worth sponsoring.

As I conclude, please don’t assume that I’ve demonstrated Godwin’s Law. In particular, to think that I’ve drawn any comparison between Holocaust denial and young earth creationism would illustrate nothing less than bald hermeneutical ineptitude. My point is not that young earth creationists are somehow like Nazis. Rather, my point is simply this: not every conversation is the kind that an individual or institution needs to sponsor. An individual or institution that hosts interviews, debates, or conference papers may choose for many reasons not to host particular debates or dialogues within their purview. And that point applies as surely to the age of the earth as it applies to the number of Jews killed by Nazis.

To sum up, free speech is one thing; the freedom to choose which debates or conference papers to sponsor is quite another.

The post Which Conversations Will You Sponsor? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

If you don’t debate young earth creationists, are you stifling the debate?

The other day I listened to a young earth creationist debate on “Unbelievable”. I was not impressed by the representative of young earth creationism. Not only did he challenge his Christian interlocutor by suggesting he had a sinful reading of Genesis, but he engaged in an old young earth creationist tactic called the “Gish Gallop” in honour of Duane Gish who pioneered the technique. (Props to Michael Roberts who reminded me of the term. I haven’t used the term “Gish Gallop” in some years!) According to that technique, the young earth creationist raises a series of scattershot objections to the age of the earth, the age of the universe, the dating of fossils and geologic strata, the common descent of organisms, the rate of evolutionary change, and who knows what else, all as a way to hammer on the questionable nature of the “evolutionary paradigm”.

The logic behind the Gish Gallop is threefold. The first two depend on time limitations, and the third on limitations of expertise:

First, it is typically easier to raise doubts/questions than to address those doubts/questions. Thus, if the YECer raises seven or eight half-baked objections in a few minutes, he can be confident that his interlocutor will likely only be able to address one or two at most before time runs out.

Second, to the extent that the advocate for evolution is forced to play defense, she is not making a positive case for evolution. Thus, far from creating a balanced discussion in which one weighs the respective strengths and weaknesses of different positions, one often ends up with a lopsided discussion that focuses on some outstanding questions within an evolutionary framework.

Third, by raising a series of objections on everything from fossils to the Big Bang, the young earth creationist can count on establishing at least a few objections beyond the expertise of their interlocutor. Thus, even if she can address an objection on fossils, she will have failed to address a range of other objections.

If you’d like a good overview of young earth creationist strategies, watch the 2014 documentary Merchants of Doubt. The documentary addresses the strategies of various special interest groups to question scientific consensus on topics like climate change and tobacco. While young earth creationism is not mentioned in the documentary, you will find similar strategies being employed to sow seeds of doubt in various forms of scientific consensus.

All this has contributed to my growing skepticism concerning the value of engaging young earth creationists in debate which I expressed in this tweet:

Because stifling debate is likely to promote edifying dialogue…?

— Mark Teter (@manalivegkc) October 17, 2017

So is Mr. Teter correct? Is it “stifling debate” to suggest it is not worthwhile to engage young earth creationists?

Of course not. Indeed, the charge is absurd. To stifle means to restrain. By choosing not to engage an individual in debate, one is not thereby restraining that individual. They’re still free to share their views with any who are interested.

And while Teter is free to suggest that Unbelievable should keep hosting young earth creationists like John Mackay, I am free to defend the contrary view.

I will say, however, that Teter’s attempt to couch my suggestion in the terms of intellectual suppression provides yet one more reason why I think young earth creationists are not worth debating.

The post If you don’t debate young earth creationists, are you stifling the debate? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

The Top Five Reasons I didn’t like the Young Earth Creationist on “Unbelievable”

This past week “Unbelievable” with Justin Brierley featured a young earth creationist named John Mackay in debate with theistic evolutionist Keith Fox. Professor Fox was congenial and no doubt is well informed on his topic of genetics. But he was not a great debater. And it became clear very quickly that Mr. Mackay was well versed in some standard debating tricks. Here are the top five most unpleasant moments in no particular order.

1. The Pivot: Whenever Fox would seek to discuss his specialty, genetics, Mackay would deftly pivot away to talk about something else … like mid-nineteenth century biologist Charles Darwin’s interpretation of early nineteenth century Charles Lyell’s views of how Moses does not belong in geology. Er … okay?

2.  Casting aspersions: At the beginning Mackay agreed — apparently for the sake of argument — to accept that Fox just might be a Christian. But it wasn’t long into the show before he was suggesting that Fox’s non-literalist hermeneutic of Genesis 1-2 was sinful.

3. Leaps aplenty: Mackay observed that Jesus referred to Adam as a historical person. From this he apparently concludes that Jesus accepted the young earth creationist reading of Genesis 1-2. (It’s hard to know where to begin with this one, so I’ll note just one point. Even if Jesus did believe in and taught an historical Adam, this is perfectly consistent with John Walton’s view of Adam as the first elect human being in a long evolutionary history.)

4. The Circularity Charge: Mackay repeatedly charged Fox with beginning with a viciously circular commitment to Neo-Darwinian evolution and then reading the data to substantiate the assumption. And yet, throughout he made it clear that he himself was reading the data with a prior commitment to his fundamentalist literal-when-possible hermeneutic.

5. The Bible Only Card: In one of the most absurd moments of the entire program, Mackay boldly asserted that scripture never changes but science does, and so he always interprets science in light of scripture rather than vice versa. This statement represents a fundamentalist bastardization of the legitimate Reformation principle of Sola Scriptura.

First off, neither the Bible nor nature changes. But our understanding of both the Bible and nature is always changing. For example, today you’d be hard pressed to find someone willing to use the Bible to support the divine right of kings, slavery, or the mental and moral inferiority of women to men. And yet each of these positions was commonly defended in the recent past. And this is to say nothing of the abundance of competing theologies on issues like election, the nature of God, church governance, baptism, and so on.

Second, how would Mackay’s principle apply in the early 17th century? Would he have imprisoned Galileo because of course the Bible teaches geocentrism, right? So what led to the rise of heliocentric interpretations of the Bible? Simple: theologians recognized that geocentrism is false and they rightly concluded we better get with the program.

Is young earth creationism in a similar place to geocentrism? I think so. But regardless of whether it is or isn’t, it is a true blight of self-confident ignorance that can claim one’s interpretation of the Bible — because it is, after all, Mackay’s interpretation that we’re talking about here — always stands as the judge over the deliverances of natural science.

While I believe young earth creationism is bad science and bad hermeneutics, neither bothers me more than the temerity of creationists like Mackay to question the moral and Christian character of those with whom they disagree.

The post The Top Five Reasons I didn’t like the Young Earth Creationist on “Unbelievable” appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Conservative Christians find sex and violence offensive. But what about mediocrity?

The other day I found myself in conversation with some Christians about Netflix. One lady stated that she had decided not to get Netflix because she found some of the content offensive — pornographic, she called it. I was puzzled by this reaction. “No doubt the city library also has content one might find offensive,” I observed, “but that isn’t a reason to turn in one’s library card.”

It didn’t matter. She then stated that she was instead considering a subscription to the “Christian” version of Netflix, with the appropriately sanctimonious name “Pureflix.” I’d heard of Pureflix before but I had never visited their website. So after our conversation I visited the website and saw a list of evangelistic titles that I had never heard of. While I hadn’t seen any of those titles, I have reviewed several “Christian” films in recent years — God’s not Dead,  God’s not Dead 2, Hell and Mr. Fudge, All Saints, and Heaven is for Real, — and they have ranged from abominable (the first two) to watchable (the last three).

But even the best of these films is mediocre. Like a pretty Thomas Kinkade painting in a dentist’s office, it may serve to fill up some blank wall space, but it will never be a work of art.

Consider the contrast between these middling pieces of cinema and true works of redemptive art like Gran Torino or Short Term 12, the latter which I reviewed in my article “Finding Jesus at the movies, but not in the Jesus movies.” Of course, Gran Torino and Short Term 12 have content that may offend the sensibilities of the Pureflix audience. But then Pureflix has a wealth of mediocrity that offends my sensibilities. I’ll take a gritty but real story of redemption any day.

The post Conservative Christians find sex and violence offensive. But what about mediocrity? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

97. Redemption and Omar Khadr

Omar Khadr

The story of Omar Khadr is inextricably interwoven with that of Canadian identity in a post 9/11 world. For years his story occupied national headlines, often polarizing a nation as it embodied concerns about security and terrorism, Islam and the clash of civilizations, punishment and the promise of redemption.

As a public narrative, Omar’s story begins in 2002 when he was working as a 15 year old with Taliban soldiers in Afghanistan. On July 27, he was seriously wounded in a fight with American soldiers after which he was sent to Guantanamo Bay. While in confinement at Guantanamo, Khadr, a Canadian citizen, pleaded guilty to killing U.S. soldier Sergeant Christopher Speer in the firefight.

In 2010 the Supreme Court of Canada ruled that the Canadian government’s interrogation of Khadr had violated “the most basic Canadian standards of the treatment of detained youth suspects…” Finally, after ten years in Guantanamo Khadr was returned to Canada and later released from prison. After suing the Canadian government for violations under the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, the Canadian government settled out of court in 2017 for a payment of $10.5 million along with an apology on behalf of the government.

Professor Roy Berkenbosch

For much of his unlikely journey, Khadr has been supported by the faculty and students of King’s University in Edmonton, Alberta. And in this episode of The Tentative Apologist Podcast I sit down with Roy Berkenbosch of King’s to discuss Khadr’s case and the complex theological, ethical, and social implications that it raises.

Professor Berkenbosch is Director at the Micah Centre and Interdisciplinary Professor at King’s University where he has taught since 1995. Previously he lived and worked in Bangladesh for several years and he continues to advocate on a number of important topics including global poverty, the status of indigenous peoples within Canada, and the complex case of Omar Khadr.

The post 97. Redemption and Omar Khadr appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Thoughts and Prayers and the Atheist’s Scorn

Hurricanes. Wildfires. Mass shootings. The possibility of nuclear annihilation.

Is it any surprise that we regularly hear the call to extend “thoughts and prayers” to others? As predictable as that phrase may be at times like this, equally predictable is the scornful reply from many an atheist. That reply typically amounts to “Thoughts and prayers? How about actually doing something?”

I sympathize. Too often the promissory note to send one’s thoughts and prayers is an empty phrase. It’s slacktivism of the worst sort.

Of course, we should also concede that there is more than enough blame to go around. How many of us, atheists included, thought we were doing our part by tweeting #bringourgirlshome, as if that did one single thing to help children terrorized by Boko Haram?

But back to thoughts and prayers. I think we can concede that thoughts and prayers without action in the world is of little value. As we read in James 2,

14 What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? 15 If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? 17 So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.

And so if I had to choose between sending thoughts and prayers or doing something, I’d choose to do something … and let that be my prayer.

Of course, we don’t need to choose.  On the contrary, we can think, pray, and do. And so my thought and prayer is that we will.

The post Thoughts and Prayers and the Atheist’s Scorn appeared first on Randal Rauser.