I had been meaning to do a post on a book I’d recommend to anyone who is interested in religious history: A History of God by Karen Armstrong. It’s a readable book that takes a close look at the history of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. I have to confess that I bogged down and stopped reading when she got into 14th century Islamic philosophers and the like. The places and the people involved became too foreign for me to really internalize; at least for a book I was reading casually.
I found the bulk of the book to be excellent, however. I was reminded to post about it today after reading Dispatches from the Culture Wars quoted DaveScot:
My position is that in the ordering of baby killing God was wrong and therefore cannot be a trusted source of moral absolutes. If the Old Testament is a true accounting of God’s interaction with the world then I have no choice but to conclude that my morals are superior to His. But rather than believe that I choose to believe that the Old Testament is not a true account of God’s interaction with the world but is rather, at least in part, a rather destructive immoral human fabrication created during a much more barbaric, violent time and place in world history when the sword was more respected than the olive branch.
I was raised as a Presbyterian and wrestled with a lot of these questions in my younger years. Eventually, I came to be agnostic and would place my money on atheism being correct if I were a betting man. In any event, I have not seen any reason to believe that Christian myths are any more likely to reflect reality than the mythologies of countless other civilizations and religions that came before and after. Had I kept on being a Presbyterian, I would have been doing so only because my parents are Presbyterians — which seems like a silly, yet common, reason to embrace a particular religion.
If you believe that Jews and early Christians were writing the books of the Bible rather than God himself, it gets you out of a lot of these philosophical tangles. However, that comes with a price, since the Bible stops being the inerrant word of God if it’s written by flawed humans.
Armstrong’s book does a good job of describing the historical contexts in which the various books of the Bible are written. For example, some of the early ones are written when there wasn’t a particular belief that their God was the only God that existed. Rather, they took the somewhat unusual step for the time of having a jealous God who looked dimly on the other Gods who were acknowledged to exist at the time such as Baal. The books of the Bible reflect a transition as Yahweh turns from one of many Gods who actively intervened in the world and made good on direct promises to his followers into more of a solitary, non-anthropomorphic, Platonic ideal that remained aloof from the world. Along the way, Yahweh turns from primarily a militaristic God into a God who has a broader skill set such as fertility until he becomes the only God.
Also part of the process was the “discovery” of Deuteronomy by the High Priest of the Temple in Judah which, at the time, was undergoing quite a bit of political stress. The northern Hebrew kingdom of Israel had been destroyed and Judah’s larger imperial neighbors were bearing down. The High Priest presented this new document to the Judean King. It was purported to be lost sermons of Moses with a particular emphasis that Yahweh should be worshiped exclusively. King Josiah, who had permitted worship of deities such as Baal and Asherah in the Temple, became convinced that this faithlessness was the reason for these troubled times and presided over a series of reforms requiring Yahweh to be worshiped exclusively which presumably enhanced the power of the priest who “discovered” those lost sermons of Moses.
So, anyway, blasphemous as it may be, viewing Yahweh as a story who evolved with his story-tellers is much more interesting to me than trying to engage in metaphysical acrobatics trying to reconcile the eternal truth of the Bible; the frequently cruel and jealous military God of the early Hebrews; and the mostly detached, loving, omniscient/omnipotent God of modern Christians.
Oh, sure you can take a detached approach to this subject. You weren’t aggressively evangelized at the International BBQ Festival this weekend down in Kentucky. Dude sidled up uninvited and interrupted a perfectly good conversation in order to convert me. He had a totally novel argument for his religion that blew me away in its simplicity: He just knows his religion is the true one and the path to heaven. Well now that that debate’s wrapped up, what will humanity spend its spare time on now?
And then we read and listen to the current news stories about the Black Christian church and the White Christian church in America,and wonder what good it even does to consider the Evolution of Yahweh.
We’re taught in catechism that men inspired by God wrote Scripture , but what is not emphasized enough is that each man is inspired through his own human imperfections,making his message personally distorted, and that’s how it has always been and always will be.No one knows how an inspired man views God,or what his agenda will be,until he tells us so,or until he acts.IMO, good will is always the key ,not so much what anyone thinks he believes.
But I’m probably off-subject.
Perfecting its barbeque skills, I should hope.
Well, see that’s what I always figured. But, then folks like the one who asserted to T that he knew the One True Way ™ always seem to be minimizing the effectiveness and value of good will as the point of the exercise. Rather, they usually assert that you are going to hell if you don’t buy into their particular franchise.
I’ll have to read this book. I’m one of the Lutherans who believe that you have to read the Bible in it’s historical and cultural contexts to even have a clue what the Bible might be saying to us today. (I often mention the cultural/historical aspects of a text in a sermon so that my congregation understands what was going on at the time these words were written in the Bible.) And Lou is right, the Bible is God’s inspired word written down by men. Over time words have been changed. Errors in transcription have been made. One of the funniest things that I find is that people like the man who accosted T tend to quote the King James Version of the Bible. That is one of the most flawed translations (it is based on a poor Shakespearean English translation of the Vulgate; which in itself is a poor Latin translation of the original Hebrew and Greek texts) of all; and yet they hold it as being the only TRUE INERRANT Word of God.
And I believe that our relationship with God has evolved in that time. Just like God’s relationship with humanity changed throughout the Bible.
BTW the best current translation is probably the New Revised Standard Version. It is based on the most historical and linguistic studies.
BTW I meant to say it is based upon the most RECENT historical and linguistic studies.
For a good read, check out Karen Armstrong’s memoir, Through the Narrow Gate. It made me appreciate her scholarly work even more.
Raised by an atheist and an agnostic, I grew up agnostic and became a Presbyterian as an adult. Guess I filled the spot you left open.
Couple of thoughts:
–interesting to read the history of the various books of the bible and the process of selection of what was and was not to be included. This includes the time of the writings and who the likely author really might have been.
—the issue of one’s take on religion is one I used to use as an example of decisions and consequences–this a part of a unit on Truth, half truths and myths: a) if you believe in a religion and you are right about it all–then the outcome is good, b) if you believe in a religion and you are wrong about it all–then the outcome may not be what you expected but the price paid is not really too high, and c) if you do not believe and it is all true about religon then the price is really high, and d) if you do not believe and you are right then the outcome is what you expected.
All decisions do not have the same consequences.
I think that’s more or less Pascal’s Wager. However, that’s an irrational way of determining what the most likely reality is.
Doug,
We seem to have similar reading tastes. I just finished Atheists: A Groundbreaking Study of America’s Nonbelievers, by Bruce Hunsberger and Bob Altemeyer. It reports the findings of one of the first social scientific studies of atheists in history.
It focuses not so much on what atheism is or why one should (or shouldn’t) be one, which is the concern of practically all other literature on the subject, but on how atheists, as a demographic, think and feel compared to agnostics, religious fundamentalists, inactive believers, and the general public. In many ways, Altemeyer and Hunsberger found, atheists (and agnostics too) really are “different”, and almost at a cognitive level.
I can draw the findings of this book to reinforce the feeling I’ve had for a long time that atheism is more a consequence, rather than a cause, of how one’s mind apprehends the world. Particularly noteworthy are their accounts of former devout believers who became atheists. It turns out there is a way to raise your children in a heavily God-and-Jesus-saturated household that will increase their risk of apostasy–and that way isn’t what one might suspect. (In other words, you don’t abuse or harass them into leaving the faith; sadly, those folks probably stick around.)
The authors, both Canadian professors, candidly admit that they were surprised by their own results multiple times. A lifelong atheist, I was at times as well. Are atheists more or less dogmatic than believers? More or less zealous? More or less ethnocentric? I reckon most folks, atheists and believers alike, feel confident they could make qualitative guesses about all of these. Hunsberger and Altemeyer show us data. Someone’s bound to be disappointed, and others pleasantly surprised–and it’s not always the same team that is vindicated in its prejudices.
It’s pretty short–only about 150 pages, but is engagingly written. For statistics and social science buffs, copious chapter endnotes open the authors’ kimono regarding statistical significance, correlation, and alpha factors, so anyone who wants to attack their methodology had better have their skills shop. Moreover, the authors spend the first third of Chapter 8 critiquing their own approach and pointing the way for future studies.
I recommend it.
Thanks for the heads up; sounds like an interesting book. I guess I’m skeptical about any sort of exceptionalism leading to religious beliefs or lack thereof, but clearly I haven’t read the book and can’t judge.
I used Merriam-Webster (on-line) to look up the spelling for “ambivalence” and I’m glad I did. It’s so disconcerting when words don’t mean quite what you thought they did. I would have said it roughly translated to “could care less.” I was mistaken. “Torn” is a more appropriate synonym.
Ok, so then I looked up “apathy” which I would have thought was nuanced towards lazy but… no… it was what I was looking for.
I came to be an aetheist not through any soul searching or logical discourse (unless purely subconscious) but through apathy. For me, the appeal of religion is on the same level as knowing whether purple dust mites are happier than yellow ones.
I certainly have no clue as to whether my take on it is “true” or if those who believe in a higher power are on the right track… and I’m apathetic about that as well.
The vast majority of people *do* care, however which I try to be sensitive to. (Fundamentalism, no matter to what it is applied, is hard to be respectful of.)
Thanks Doug. I’ve put that book on my library wish list.
My pleasure, Jason.
Brenda, out of curiosity, were you raised in a religious environment? I think the fact that I struggled a bit with religion rather than being apathetic about it stems from having been raised in a church-going family. From a young age, I was taught that this was something at least significant enough to drag us out of the house on Sundays.
My first “philosophical argument” of sorts, that I can recall, came when I was 6 or 7. I couldn’t figure out if I believed in God or not, and I was worried about it because I had been told of the dire consequences if I did not. I concluded that I must believe in God because, otherwise, I wouldn’t be afraid of the consequences.
My thinking moved on from this initial mindset, obviously, but breaking out of that mindset is bound to cause turmoil to one extent or another.
Good point about Pascal’s Wager. I would add that thinking rationally about reward vs. risk is not the right way to think about faith. Faith is belief despite the absence of supporting evidence, so using a rational approach to religion (akin to buying insurance for the soul) is antithetical to what religious faith is supposed to be, almost by definition. Although engaging in the rituals of religion is an active process that people use to strengthen, renew, or enjoy their faith, at the bottom of it all faith is something you either have or you don’t.
I went through the real soul searching many years ago. Now I’m apathetic because I already had that argument fully to a conclusion I am comfortable with. That came out in my conversation with the evangelist. I had had a chance meeting with a surgeon I refer to in another town. We were discussing his son’s disabilities and my son’s autism, and were well into the conversation at the time of the interruption. At given point in time, an evangelist may think that his subject matter is the most important thing there is. But for me, having hashed my feelings regarding the supernatural out in my own mind long ago, further unsolicited discussion of it and its implications rated far, far below what I was already engaged in a discussion about. What little it did rate was on my end a vague curiosity about why this guy was bothering me in such a manner.
Going back to Pascal’s Wager, though… With my belief that this life is all there is, I see most peoples’ religiousity as kind of a wash. They spent their Sundays in fellowship with others, so if it turns out that there is no god, their time isn’t truly “wasted”. But for the guy who spends a perfectly good night at the barbecue festival haranguing others about the afterlife, there’s probably a more significant investment there.
Doug,
Yes, I attended church from babyhood to age 13 or so when I convinced my Mother that she really should allow me to “opt out” before I became all rebellious about it. It was the Congregational Church (not terribly rigid) and while I did enjoy singing in the choir, I just wasn’t in tune with the rest of it (pun intended).
While my mother remains true in her beliefs (without the slightest trace of evangalism) she has progressed to being a member of a VERY open and affirming Seattle congregation. I admire her greatly and cannot help but give some credence to something she believes in so strongly. I think that’s where my “no clue who is right” attitude comes from.
My sister, on the other hand, worries that I’m going to hell. Sigh.
I said “give some credence” above. That isn’t really what I meant – more like “I may not agree with her views but I have to respect them.”
Ha! Total kid logic: “I’m going to hell because I don’t believe in God.”