A great many religions believe that going without food for a time encourages spirituality. The reasoning is common enough to be referenced by the pop philosophy movie The Matrix; food alters one's perceptions. The Oracle uses food to manipulate Neo, Cypher eats steak before betraying Morpheus, and in food "in the real world" is hardly food at all - suggesting a clearer understanding of truth. The Bible depicts stories of people fasting to rid themselves of pride, to aid repentance, and to protect from divine judgment.
My own religion has a charitable tradition of fasting -- once a month, we are invited to skip two consecutive meals (all food and drink, even water, with concessions made for personal health) and donate the money saved to the hungry and needy. This is considered both a charitable donation and an exercise in empathy - it is easier to give to the hungry when you personally and sharply know what they are suffering.
Perhaps it is also more difficult to waste what you receive when you know it is food formerly destined for another's stomach.
But today I have another reason for fasting, a personal reason. My extended family is facing tough economic times. Their problems require more and greater solutions than I can provide. I fast to remind myself of my limits, and to ask God for the things I cannot provide them. I have too much pride, and too much need of repentance. A perfect judgment would not be kind to me. But it is for my family that I worry. It is for them I petition for grace.
Maybe if I better myself morally I will find more grace granted to them. Maybe if I do more good they will face less fear. But even if not, at least I'll have done more good and become better.
I am not good with rite and ritual, or with obedience for it's own sake. But I believe fasting will help, so I'll try. My thoughts are with my family.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sin
Wired Magazine reported an analysis of sin in the USA mapped geographically. It's not really scientific, but it's entertaining. Apparently the midwest, great plains, and parts of the Mountain West are pretty saintly places to live, while the South, southern California, and the East Coast are the sin capitals. Who knew?
Realistically, it's pretty much impossible to measure sin scientifically. I don't think "expenditures on art, entertainment, and recreation compared to employment" is a good description of sloth, for example. Sloth is intended to reflect one's resistance to act to peoples' benefit - both your own or other peoples'. It's more likely that the ability to afford art is a sign of industrious productivity. How else did you get all that spending money?
Gluttony is measured by fast food restaurants per capita. No consideration of obesity rates? I guess obesity has truly been redefined as an illness rather than a moral failing.
Envy need not result in material theft. One could just as easily envy someone's expansive free time, cool job, unique talents, or close family ties.
These are all very shallow definitions. More accurate, thoughtful definitions would inherently be more difficult to measure. How do you measure how much someone chooses not to work? One who gives into lust frequently may also be sufficiently familiar with health issues and prevention to avoid STDs.
In the end, sin is a deeply personal matter, one which is best seen in ourselves by ourselves by introspective consideration without preconceptions. To recognize one's own strengths and failings is to reverse denial and reject self-deception. Another person cannot possibly know you well enough to judge sin, but neither do you easily know yourself so well either. It takes continual effort.
In this introspective way, what are you looking for? You are looking for obvious malice, of course, but also for insufficient effort. To kill someone is a sin, but to neglect someone is, too. It is not enough to draw a line and say "I will never be more sinful than this." Rather, one should continually walk away from sin, away from the line, and towards righteousness.
It's a tall order, though, isn't it? There are constant temptations to walk the wrong way, to stop entirely, and to walk the right way slowly. No one is ever quite done, ever fully free of mistakes of some magnitude or other. It's a very tall order.
Realistically, it's pretty much impossible to measure sin scientifically. I don't think "expenditures on art, entertainment, and recreation compared to employment" is a good description of sloth, for example. Sloth is intended to reflect one's resistance to act to peoples' benefit - both your own or other peoples'. It's more likely that the ability to afford art is a sign of industrious productivity. How else did you get all that spending money?
Gluttony is measured by fast food restaurants per capita. No consideration of obesity rates? I guess obesity has truly been redefined as an illness rather than a moral failing.
Envy need not result in material theft. One could just as easily envy someone's expansive free time, cool job, unique talents, or close family ties.
These are all very shallow definitions. More accurate, thoughtful definitions would inherently be more difficult to measure. How do you measure how much someone chooses not to work? One who gives into lust frequently may also be sufficiently familiar with health issues and prevention to avoid STDs.
In the end, sin is a deeply personal matter, one which is best seen in ourselves by ourselves by introspective consideration without preconceptions. To recognize one's own strengths and failings is to reverse denial and reject self-deception. Another person cannot possibly know you well enough to judge sin, but neither do you easily know yourself so well either. It takes continual effort.
In this introspective way, what are you looking for? You are looking for obvious malice, of course, but also for insufficient effort. To kill someone is a sin, but to neglect someone is, too. It is not enough to draw a line and say "I will never be more sinful than this." Rather, one should continually walk away from sin, away from the line, and towards righteousness.
It's a tall order, though, isn't it? There are constant temptations to walk the wrong way, to stop entirely, and to walk the right way slowly. No one is ever quite done, ever fully free of mistakes of some magnitude or other. It's a very tall order.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The 10 Commandments for the Atheist
A quick note before I start: I tend to write these posts about a week before I publish them, giving me a buffer in case I get in a lazy mood (which happens often). With the exception of this paragraph, I wrote this post after barcode9588 mentioned she was making a video on the topic, but before I saw her video. It's only a happy coincidence that our views are almost identical. I can't prove it, though. Hopefully you'll see enough difference in styles to believe me. Anyway, here goes.
Christian and Jewish adherents find the 10 Commandments to be the beginnings of written, objective law and a divine tool for bringing about peace, law, and morality (though, I understand the 10 Commandments do not have any special authority over any other commandments in Jewish circles). Non-religious people find the 10 Commandments to be a means of control by an authority with little or no objective benefit to the running or quality of a society. Obviously there's a severe disconnect between these interpretations, an almost utter lack of common ground. Since they are written down in black and white in languages we can all read, it seems bizarre that such different interpretations arise. Clearly, something in the context changes dramatically between believers and non-believers.
After considering these things, I think the difference in context arises from what the word "God" represents. Yes, the Judeo-Christian tradition sees some thinking being behind the name, similar to a human (at least in the sense that humans were created in His image). Atheists point to this human interpretation of the Lord and see the resulting commandments as a kind of authoritarian government, comparable to a demands of a dictator to obeyed no matter how intrusive his edicts. But this ignores the subtler and more important aspect of the traditional definition: God is good. Literally.
To the adherent, "God" is symbolic of righteousness and morality first and foremost and symbolic of governing authority only in the sense that government tries to imitate divinity. Obeying the commandments is precisely doing the right thing, not because obedience and submission are especially moral but because the behaviors commanded are right in themselves. If commandments seem to be immoral, the mistake is not in the Lord but in the phrase "seem to be". By definition, either it is not divine or it is not immoral. Considered in this light, the first commandment (no other gods or idols or whatever before the great I Am) is not of authoritarian dictatorship ("Obey me above all others.") but of personal morality ("Do the right thing above all else.").
But, a skeptic might ask, if it's not about obedience why should it be stated as a commandment, an order from a Lord? Consider the timing. The Hebrews had just escaped generations of chattel slavery in which obedience was the only law. So soon after their escape from the Pharaoh and his nearly-godly authority was to throw a huge, violent, naked, drunken party that seemingly included human sacrifices. They had freedom, but no concept of how to use it to preserve themselves or establish a society. So the Lord gave them a guide to morality in a form they could understand: orders. The underlying meaning is universal, but the delivery is customized for the audience. It offered them a transition from being told what is right to understanding for themselves what is right.
I've covered the first commandment. How do the others translate through this lens?
Do not take the name of the Lord in vain. This is often taken as a commandment against swearing in the modern sense, not just referring to God casually or disrespectfully but also not referring to His powers or to private parts of the body or bodily functions in crude ways for their shock value. An older interpretation is not to use God as the basis of an oath or promise, especially one that you do not fulfill. Taking the Lord to be symbolic of morality, this commandment becomes "Take morality seriously." Do not indulge in any habits or philosophies that claim the expectation to do the right thing is silly, irrelevant, or unreasonable. Continue to believe that right and wrong matter.
Later on, several of the commandments use the word "covet". I understand "covet" to mean more than "want" but less than "steal". It is the urge to have, the temptation to take. It is the motivation to improve your situation by making someone else's situation worse. Maybe you don't actually have to steal to be covetous, but you're willing to manipulate events to encourage them to give it up. Maybe you'll screw them over for it, convince them it's broken so they give it away, or guilt them into thinking they owe it to you. Even planning stuff like that is covetous.
Thus, my 10 commandments translated for the atheist are:
Hopefully this explanation will bridge the culture gap between adherents and atheists a little and help us all to get along a little better.
Christian and Jewish adherents find the 10 Commandments to be the beginnings of written, objective law and a divine tool for bringing about peace, law, and morality (though, I understand the 10 Commandments do not have any special authority over any other commandments in Jewish circles). Non-religious people find the 10 Commandments to be a means of control by an authority with little or no objective benefit to the running or quality of a society. Obviously there's a severe disconnect between these interpretations, an almost utter lack of common ground. Since they are written down in black and white in languages we can all read, it seems bizarre that such different interpretations arise. Clearly, something in the context changes dramatically between believers and non-believers.
After considering these things, I think the difference in context arises from what the word "God" represents. Yes, the Judeo-Christian tradition sees some thinking being behind the name, similar to a human (at least in the sense that humans were created in His image). Atheists point to this human interpretation of the Lord and see the resulting commandments as a kind of authoritarian government, comparable to a demands of a dictator to obeyed no matter how intrusive his edicts. But this ignores the subtler and more important aspect of the traditional definition: God is good. Literally.
To the adherent, "God" is symbolic of righteousness and morality first and foremost and symbolic of governing authority only in the sense that government tries to imitate divinity. Obeying the commandments is precisely doing the right thing, not because obedience and submission are especially moral but because the behaviors commanded are right in themselves. If commandments seem to be immoral, the mistake is not in the Lord but in the phrase "seem to be". By definition, either it is not divine or it is not immoral. Considered in this light, the first commandment (no other gods or idols or whatever before the great I Am) is not of authoritarian dictatorship ("Obey me above all others.") but of personal morality ("Do the right thing above all else.").
But, a skeptic might ask, if it's not about obedience why should it be stated as a commandment, an order from a Lord? Consider the timing. The Hebrews had just escaped generations of chattel slavery in which obedience was the only law. So soon after their escape from the Pharaoh and his nearly-godly authority was to throw a huge, violent, naked, drunken party that seemingly included human sacrifices. They had freedom, but no concept of how to use it to preserve themselves or establish a society. So the Lord gave them a guide to morality in a form they could understand: orders. The underlying meaning is universal, but the delivery is customized for the audience. It offered them a transition from being told what is right to understanding for themselves what is right.
I've covered the first commandment. How do the others translate through this lens?
Do not take the name of the Lord in vain. This is often taken as a commandment against swearing in the modern sense, not just referring to God casually or disrespectfully but also not referring to His powers or to private parts of the body or bodily functions in crude ways for their shock value. An older interpretation is not to use God as the basis of an oath or promise, especially one that you do not fulfill. Taking the Lord to be symbolic of morality, this commandment becomes "Take morality seriously." Do not indulge in any habits or philosophies that claim the expectation to do the right thing is silly, irrelevant, or unreasonable. Continue to believe that right and wrong matter.
Later on, several of the commandments use the word "covet". I understand "covet" to mean more than "want" but less than "steal". It is the urge to have, the temptation to take. It is the motivation to improve your situation by making someone else's situation worse. Maybe you don't actually have to steal to be covetous, but you're willing to manipulate events to encourage them to give it up. Maybe you'll screw them over for it, convince them it's broken so they give it away, or guilt them into thinking they owe it to you. Even planning stuff like that is covetous.
Thus, my 10 commandments translated for the atheist are:
- Do what's right above all else.
- Take morality seriously.
- Take time to rest and think things through one day a week.
- Do your parents' proud. Obey them unless they ask you to do immoral things, and always live so that people respect your parents because they know you.
- Promote life, not death.
- Take others' romantic feelings seriously. Don't abuse their trust.
- Respect others' stuff and their right to control it's use and condition.
- Don't try to convince people of things you do not believe.
- Don't lust after people who will never be with you, or who can only be with you through violence or heartache.
- Don't cheat, manipulate, or con things away from people. Don't even indulge the urge to.
Hopefully this explanation will bridge the culture gap between adherents and atheists a little and help us all to get along a little better.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
"Luther" (2003)
In the 1500s lived a German monk named Martin Luther. He, one man alone, took a stable and united Europe and shattered it. By his own admission, tens of thousands died as a result of the revolution he began, the face of western Religion, economics, politics, and culture were forever shifted. For these reasons, every American, every German, every Canadian, Mexican, Latino, European, Christian, everyone should be eternally thankful.
A dramatized biography of a monumentally revolutionary man, this movie is awe-inspiring. Justice and mercy, tradition and revolution, religion and reason, politics and plain truth all shattered and melted together. Everything that's happened in the Western world in 500 years was influenced by this one man.
Given this glowing review of Luther, both the man and the movie, I should make it clear that I am not Lutheran. I don't consider him infallible (far from it, actually), I just recognize a revolutionary, a pivotal identity in history, and respect him accordingly. If you are so supremely anti-Christian as to be unwilling to watch this movie, you can find movies about Ghandi, Emperor Qin, or Buddha. But, without an outline of knowledge of the influence of Martin Luther you remain intellectually crippled, unable to understand why and what Western Culture is.
A dramatized biography of a monumentally revolutionary man, this movie is awe-inspiring. Justice and mercy, tradition and revolution, religion and reason, politics and plain truth all shattered and melted together. Everything that's happened in the Western world in 500 years was influenced by this one man.
Given this glowing review of Luther, both the man and the movie, I should make it clear that I am not Lutheran. I don't consider him infallible (far from it, actually), I just recognize a revolutionary, a pivotal identity in history, and respect him accordingly. If you are so supremely anti-Christian as to be unwilling to watch this movie, you can find movies about Ghandi, Emperor Qin, or Buddha. But, without an outline of knowledge of the influence of Martin Luther you remain intellectually crippled, unable to understand why and what Western Culture is.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
"Dragonfly" (2002)
When atheist and emergency room doctor Joe Darrow loses his beloved wife, he is devastated that she is gone forever. But then, slowly, he starts seeing things, witnessing things, that insinuate that she's still around and trying to communicate. Is he going mad, or is his wife trying to speak to him from beyond the grave? If the latter, what is she trying to say?
This is a cool movie, romantically portrayed and intelligently written. It studies the gray shades between the white and black of life and death, it considers the idea of an afterlife analytically, and it does my favorite thing a movie can do: show the gray shades between sanity and madness. Aside from these rather commonly good traits, it was brilliant at two points. First, the conclusion fit together and made sense. There was a message worth declaring from beyond the grave, and it was effectively (though not efficiently) delivered. So many paranormal movies end with a special effects sequence or with anti-climatic answers. In this movie, the answers fit. Second, it is a study of the idea of the afterlife with an entirely religiously-neutral point of view. It's not considered a binary choice between Christianity and Atheism, but a complex question with a vast array of possible answers.
I respect and enjoyed this movie. It was dramatic, analytically paranormal, and worth seeing.
This is a cool movie, romantically portrayed and intelligently written. It studies the gray shades between the white and black of life and death, it considers the idea of an afterlife analytically, and it does my favorite thing a movie can do: show the gray shades between sanity and madness. Aside from these rather commonly good traits, it was brilliant at two points. First, the conclusion fit together and made sense. There was a message worth declaring from beyond the grave, and it was effectively (though not efficiently) delivered. So many paranormal movies end with a special effects sequence or with anti-climatic answers. In this movie, the answers fit. Second, it is a study of the idea of the afterlife with an entirely religiously-neutral point of view. It's not considered a binary choice between Christianity and Atheism, but a complex question with a vast array of possible answers.
I respect and enjoyed this movie. It was dramatic, analytically paranormal, and worth seeing.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Reason and Faith
This post was inspired by two YouTube videos. The first was an interjection into a discussion of Myers-Briggs personality types in which a heartfelt man was very soberly questioning how a Intuitive Thinking personality type (in other words, one who strongly values rationality and intellectual reason as the means of decision-making) could believe religious tenants without proof.
I hope I respond with the same heartfelt honesty and compassion as the personality type hostess. In summary, she articulated that religious-based reasoning was just as logical as science-based reasoning or any other "factor X" that one might use as one's basis of reasoning.
I feel a responsibility to respond because I am a Intuitive Thinking type personality (INTP, to be specific) and also a deep, heartfelt believer when it comes to religion. When he says, "I do not understand how you can push the 'believe' button when there are no facts to back it up." it sounds very much like he is addressing me specifically.
There is a distinction that needs to be made right off the bat: there is a difference between logic and empiricism. Logic dependably leads from conclusions that are accepted ("givens" formally) to conclusions that are at least as true as the givens. If your givens are false, your conclusions can only be true by coincidence despite the best logic. Empiricism is the belief that anything not physically demonstrated true should be considered false. Logic alone does not dispute faith, but logic plus empiricism largely does.
Empiricism is a philosophy from which logic can begin. It is a possible "factor X", to borrow barcode9588's term. Religious faith is another. Agnostics often argue that empiricism and Christian faith both make unprovable claims, and thus it is irrational to trust conclusions derived from either.
Consider this: there is a planet orbiting the sun between Mars and Jupiter called Ceres. (Technically it's designated a dwarf planet, like Pluto.) It has existed at least as long as mankind has looked at the sky, but it was not identified until long after man invented telescope (1801, specifically). If someone had declared there to be more planets than were yet known in 1700 he would be just as right as a man claiming so today. But he would have no empirical proof. There is a hypothetical example of faith justified and, thus, an example of the fallibility of empiricism.
But I think your deeper question is "What reasonable way is there to choose the best philosophical basis for me to adopt?" I don't think any method is perfect and one-size-fits-all, but there are some things you may try.
Benjamin Franklin considered utility to determine which philosophy he should follow. In his young adulthood, he chose an atheistic, hedonistic philosophy of his own design. After betraying a friend over a girl, he was stricken with guilt over what he had done and blamed his atheism and hedonism. Thereafter he professed belief in God and tried to live by Biblical virtues (with limited success). You need not necessarily come to the same conclusion, but you might consider using the same means: which way of life makes you a happier person and best frees you from regrets? This could be termed the "lifestyle experiment."
In the 1830s, a young farm boy had a similar religious uncertainty on his mind read these words in the Bible: "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering." (KJV James 1:5-6) He was convinced that God would answer his question if he both asked and fully believed it possible the answer could come. He asked and, so his story says, God answered his question in person. That is a unique and dramatic example, but testimonies of the general premise of tangible answers to a prayer are numerous and widespread. It may be considered an empirical experiment, though it is one that provides the answer to you alone. If there is no answer, only you can know for certain that you were open to the possibility at the time. If there is an answer, only you can know for certain that the touch you felt was real. This could be termed the "prayer experiment."
Either of these experiments are rational, arguably empirical ways to have faith (if the results support the faith). But, as I said, I assume the responsibility to answer your question personally.
I believe in God and the Bible not because morality and rationality dictate their truth but because they promote rationality and thereby promote morality. The internal logic of the Bible is such that it invites critical thinking, demands serious study for comprehension, and encourages the investigations of the motives of man and God. The Bible is a grand treatise against easy answers and bumper sticker philosophies. For every obviously moral commandment ("thou shalt not kill") there are exceptions and counter-arguments (David kills Goliath) which, in context, often seem moral. And a few (God commands Abraham to sacrifice Isaac) which do not. The intellectual action of trying to determine right from wrong given such a set of examples is an exercise in the same moral thinking that has been so necessary in helping moral philosophy keep pace with physical philosophy. If one were standing outside of the world looking down, watching humanity struggle toward civilization and morality, I can think of no action that would do more to persuade them to attain the psychological tools they need than to provide them with something very much like the Bible.
To me, at least, that logic fits enough to support sufficient faith to pray in earnest and to try to live by the morality I derive from the scriptures. These things, little by little, have built themselves into a rational basis for faith in something I cannot prove to you but which I know beyond my capability of doubt is true.
I see no failure of logic in saying "God lovingly watches over us." Nor do I require you to agree with me without the evidences I have known. I respect both logic and faith and cannot tell you whether, when, or which to choose between them.
I hope this testimony helps you in your search for comforting rational truth. I assure you, in the name of my savior Jesus Christ, that these things are as true as I know how to express. Or, as they would phrase it in church, Amen.
I hope I respond with the same heartfelt honesty and compassion as the personality type hostess. In summary, she articulated that religious-based reasoning was just as logical as science-based reasoning or any other "factor X" that one might use as one's basis of reasoning.
I feel a responsibility to respond because I am a Intuitive Thinking type personality (INTP, to be specific) and also a deep, heartfelt believer when it comes to religion. When he says, "I do not understand how you can push the 'believe' button when there are no facts to back it up." it sounds very much like he is addressing me specifically.
There is a distinction that needs to be made right off the bat: there is a difference between logic and empiricism. Logic dependably leads from conclusions that are accepted ("givens" formally) to conclusions that are at least as true as the givens. If your givens are false, your conclusions can only be true by coincidence despite the best logic. Empiricism is the belief that anything not physically demonstrated true should be considered false. Logic alone does not dispute faith, but logic plus empiricism largely does.
Empiricism is a philosophy from which logic can begin. It is a possible "factor X", to borrow barcode9588's term. Religious faith is another. Agnostics often argue that empiricism and Christian faith both make unprovable claims, and thus it is irrational to trust conclusions derived from either.
Consider this: there is a planet orbiting the sun between Mars and Jupiter called Ceres. (Technically it's designated a dwarf planet, like Pluto.) It has existed at least as long as mankind has looked at the sky, but it was not identified until long after man invented telescope (1801, specifically). If someone had declared there to be more planets than were yet known in 1700 he would be just as right as a man claiming so today. But he would have no empirical proof. There is a hypothetical example of faith justified and, thus, an example of the fallibility of empiricism.
But I think your deeper question is "What reasonable way is there to choose the best philosophical basis for me to adopt?" I don't think any method is perfect and one-size-fits-all, but there are some things you may try.
Benjamin Franklin considered utility to determine which philosophy he should follow. In his young adulthood, he chose an atheistic, hedonistic philosophy of his own design. After betraying a friend over a girl, he was stricken with guilt over what he had done and blamed his atheism and hedonism. Thereafter he professed belief in God and tried to live by Biblical virtues (with limited success). You need not necessarily come to the same conclusion, but you might consider using the same means: which way of life makes you a happier person and best frees you from regrets? This could be termed the "lifestyle experiment."
In the 1830s, a young farm boy had a similar religious uncertainty on his mind read these words in the Bible: "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering." (KJV James 1:5-6) He was convinced that God would answer his question if he both asked and fully believed it possible the answer could come. He asked and, so his story says, God answered his question in person. That is a unique and dramatic example, but testimonies of the general premise of tangible answers to a prayer are numerous and widespread. It may be considered an empirical experiment, though it is one that provides the answer to you alone. If there is no answer, only you can know for certain that you were open to the possibility at the time. If there is an answer, only you can know for certain that the touch you felt was real. This could be termed the "prayer experiment."
Either of these experiments are rational, arguably empirical ways to have faith (if the results support the faith). But, as I said, I assume the responsibility to answer your question personally.
I believe in God and the Bible not because morality and rationality dictate their truth but because they promote rationality and thereby promote morality. The internal logic of the Bible is such that it invites critical thinking, demands serious study for comprehension, and encourages the investigations of the motives of man and God. The Bible is a grand treatise against easy answers and bumper sticker philosophies. For every obviously moral commandment ("thou shalt not kill") there are exceptions and counter-arguments (David kills Goliath) which, in context, often seem moral. And a few (God commands Abraham to sacrifice Isaac) which do not. The intellectual action of trying to determine right from wrong given such a set of examples is an exercise in the same moral thinking that has been so necessary in helping moral philosophy keep pace with physical philosophy. If one were standing outside of the world looking down, watching humanity struggle toward civilization and morality, I can think of no action that would do more to persuade them to attain the psychological tools they need than to provide them with something very much like the Bible.
To me, at least, that logic fits enough to support sufficient faith to pray in earnest and to try to live by the morality I derive from the scriptures. These things, little by little, have built themselves into a rational basis for faith in something I cannot prove to you but which I know beyond my capability of doubt is true.
I see no failure of logic in saying "God lovingly watches over us." Nor do I require you to agree with me without the evidences I have known. I respect both logic and faith and cannot tell you whether, when, or which to choose between them.
I hope this testimony helps you in your search for comforting rational truth. I assure you, in the name of my savior Jesus Christ, that these things are as true as I know how to express. Or, as they would phrase it in church, Amen.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The Four Gosples of the New Testament
The thoughts and actions of Jesus of Nazareth are the most important teachings in the Christian tradition, and the most intimate accounts of Jesus' life are given in the four canonical Gospels of the New Testament: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. But on many simple points these Gospels seemingly disagree. Many stories appear in only one or two of the gospels. Some of the events happen in different orders, or are described differently. But unlikelier still is the exactly identical wording sometimes used in multiple gospels to describe the same events. Outside of scripture it is radically uncommon for two eyewitnesses to describe the same occurrence in exactly the same words.
Sometimes the differences in content but similarity in wording is explained by historians of early Christianity by the theory that one or two original documents served as source material for the gospels as we have them today. I'm inclined to believe that in their close association and intimate discussion of these events, certain word patterns became customarily used by the apostles (presumably authors of the gospels) in describing certain events and teachings of Jesus and his life. Having heard an emotionally striking description of some event, they then associate that exact wording with that event. Such lingo is typical among any group that frequently discusses a topic together or who have all heard the same stirring speech. As influential as he was on world history, I assume Jesus of Nazareth was an emotionally powerful speaker.
The Gospel of John especially is the testimony of a believer rather than the argument of a historian. It seemingly references the stories of Jesus without telling them, expecting that the reader already knows them. It tries to explain the meaning of many events taken together rather than describing the physical events themselves. That the Gospel of John is not strictly chronological or literal makes it difficult to compare to the more straightforward gospels, but it's style (like all good poetry and art) suggests a deeper, more substantial meaning is contained within.
It would be extremely interesting to see a set intersection gospel, so to speak; a story of Jesus' life that contains only events depicted in all four canon gospels. I wonder whether it would depict the core of Christian beliefs succinctly and simply, or merely surprise us with it's brevity.
Personally, I find the diversity of the gospels symbolically important. When God provided the most important doctrinal information ever assembled, he offered it not as a monolithic, indisputable authority but as a diversity of views. Thus, perfection is not in plainly stated fact, but in the motive and activity necessary to seek pure truth from a diversity. It is not knowing but learning which is divine. That could be a major motivating factor in the elevation of plurality and mutual tolerance to their modern lofty status among social virtues in western culture.
God is good.
Sometimes the differences in content but similarity in wording is explained by historians of early Christianity by the theory that one or two original documents served as source material for the gospels as we have them today. I'm inclined to believe that in their close association and intimate discussion of these events, certain word patterns became customarily used by the apostles (presumably authors of the gospels) in describing certain events and teachings of Jesus and his life. Having heard an emotionally striking description of some event, they then associate that exact wording with that event. Such lingo is typical among any group that frequently discusses a topic together or who have all heard the same stirring speech. As influential as he was on world history, I assume Jesus of Nazareth was an emotionally powerful speaker.
The Gospel of John especially is the testimony of a believer rather than the argument of a historian. It seemingly references the stories of Jesus without telling them, expecting that the reader already knows them. It tries to explain the meaning of many events taken together rather than describing the physical events themselves. That the Gospel of John is not strictly chronological or literal makes it difficult to compare to the more straightforward gospels, but it's style (like all good poetry and art) suggests a deeper, more substantial meaning is contained within.
It would be extremely interesting to see a set intersection gospel, so to speak; a story of Jesus' life that contains only events depicted in all four canon gospels. I wonder whether it would depict the core of Christian beliefs succinctly and simply, or merely surprise us with it's brevity.
Personally, I find the diversity of the gospels symbolically important. When God provided the most important doctrinal information ever assembled, he offered it not as a monolithic, indisputable authority but as a diversity of views. Thus, perfection is not in plainly stated fact, but in the motive and activity necessary to seek pure truth from a diversity. It is not knowing but learning which is divine. That could be a major motivating factor in the elevation of plurality and mutual tolerance to their modern lofty status among social virtues in western culture.
God is good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)