When we first pick it up and open it, the Bible can seem confusing and perhaps even frightening. Here is this bulky book, made up of seventy-three sections with unfamiliar titles such as Deuteronomy, Ecclesiastes, Colossians, and Corinthians, with numbers in front of almost every sentence, rarely any pictures, and perhaps a few maps of ancient areas such as Mesopotamia, Assyria, and Judah. Since the Bible looks like a book, we may start to read it as we would any other book, hoping to move from cover to cover. Then we begin to wonder, “Who wrote this? When was it written? What kind of writing is this: History? Science? Biography? Fiction? What am I supposed to get out of it?” As (or if) we keep reading the Bible page by page, section by section, we soon realize that this is no ordinary run-of-the-bookshelf volume. Without a guide the Bible is likely to remain the book most often purchased but not very often read and even less often understood.
To rescue Bible readers and students from turning their initial enthusiasm into boredom, Gregory Dawes gives us this Introduction to the Bible, the indispensable prologue to the entire series of the New Collegeville Bible Commentary. Dividing the contents into two parts, the author first describes how the Old and New Testaments came to be put together, and then explores how their stories have been interpreted over the centuries. In the words of Dawes, this “very broad overview of a very complex history offers the general reader a helpful framework within which to begin to understand the Bible.” The author writes clearly, frequently seasoning his explanations with crisp examples. This book anchors individual and group Bible study on the solid foundation of basic biblical vocabulary and concepts.
Greg gained his first graduate degree at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome before returning to New Zealand to complete a PhD in Biblical Studies at the University of Otago. He has more recently completed a second PhD, in the Philosophy of Religion, and now teaches in both Religion and Philosophy. Having two young daughters, Anna and Kathryn, he is continually reminded of the truth of Quine's remark that the major questions of philosophy are asked by age five.
Greg is currently working on a new book entitled After Copernicus: Religion, Science, and Magic in Early Modern Europe.
I have a particular interest in the methodological naturalism or (more precisely) the methodological atheism of the modern sciences. In both history and the natural and social sciences, no proposed explanation that appealed to a divine action would be taken seriously. The creationist and intelligent design movements of today question this stance, arguing that it arises from nothing more than atheist prejudice.
My recent PhD examined and rejected this claim, arguing that the methodological naturalism of the sciences is well founded. Even if appeal to a divine agent could be shown to have explanatory force, there would still be reason to prefer a natural (as opposed to supernatural) explanation.
My earlier work focused on the assumptions that underlie the historical Jesus debate. The interesting philosophical question here is: What happens when religious and theological explanatory claims come into conflict? More precisely, what happens to religious belief when the phenomenon of religion itself can be explained without reference to a god?