I’m sure my readers know that I don’t take the Garden of Eden story literally. To me, it’s quite obviously a “just so” story, like How the Leopard Got its Spots. A fun myth that attempts, in a poetic and imaginative way, to explain biological phenomena without actually getting out of the armchair to do the real investigative work.

But there are people who believe that the story actually happened as told. And I wonder what these folks think about the role of free will in this story. Did Adam and Eve have free will before they partook of the forbidden fruit? They certainly chose freely to eat the fruit, and they were made in the image of God, so it seems likely that they did, indeed, have free will.

They also had no knowledge of good and evil, and it appears they did not sin. But this throws a rather hefty hatchet in the fracas of the free will argument, which claims that sin occurs precisely because of the free will God has given humans.

Adam and Eve actually provide one of two examples in which people do not sin yet have free will. The second example is one I’ve discussed before, namely heaven: people in heaven will presumably not sin, yet they will surely maintain their free will. I’ve not heard any Christian to date claim that the occupants of heaven will be automata whose every action and decision are predetermined.

The Center for Naturalism has a nicely written book on the subject (which I’ve just finished reading): Encountering Naturalism: A Worldview and its Uses.

One of the themes of the book is determinism, and although I’ve written an essay touching on this topic, I’ve not thought much about how, in a deterministic framework, we should view the future. It’s very tempting to conclude that since our actions are all determined, we should take a fatalistic approach to life. We should, as Leary and McLuhan’s misconstrued slogan suggests, “turn on, tune in, drop out”.

As Thomas W. Clark, the author of Encountering Naturalism, points out, fatalism is (according to one common interpretation anyway) the idea that the future will end up being the same no matter what actions you take. And if this were really the case, then we might indeed be justified in losing all motivation for action.

But this interpretation of fatalism is false, even under determinism. It is a matter of fact that our actions influence the future, even if those actions are causally determined. The only part of fatalism that reveals a glimmer of truth is that the future is, in principle, set. There is only going to be one future, and we could reveal this future (or at least some limited aspects of it) if we had sufficient information and computing power*.

But that is where the crux of the matter lies: we don’t have sufficient information and computing power, so we can’t see the future. We do not know, for instance, whether we’ll be successful and fulfilled ten years from now, or whether we’ll be completely miserable.

We do know one important thing, though: we know from observation that people who are successful and fulfilled generally reach that point because of certain things they do, and certain attitudes they take. I won’t try to make an extensive list, but I’m pretty sure it includes things like hard work, a positive attitude, and perseverance.

It seems to me that the only sensible way forward, then, is to assume that your future will be filled with success and fulfillment, and to behave in a way that you know, from observing others, is associated with success and fulfillment.

This attitude should not be confused with the theme of The Secret and other recent self-help manuals, namely that the sheer power of wishful thinking is enough to make wishes come true. Rather, what I’m prescribing is really just good old optimism.

In a nutshell, imagine that you can see the future, and that it includes you working hard to make a difference in the world. Aim to fulfill that future, rather than the one that has you turning on, tuning in, and dropping out.

—

* There are at least two sources of uncertainty about the future that persist regardless of our predictive capabilities. First, there is quantum indeterminacy which, although generally negligible on the macroscopic scale, might nonetheless effect this scale through long term knock-on effects of some kind.

Second, there is the idea that knowledge of future events might prompt us to change our course of action, thereby  leading to a future at odds with the original vision. This only applies to the knowledge of future events that we have some sort of influence over. For example, consider someone who is taking a walk through the forest. She believes she has suddenly glimpsed her short term future, and that it involves her walking off a cliff and falling to her death in the next ten minutes. Horrified, she immediately sits down where she is, waits for half an hour or so, and then carefully walks back to her car, holding onto branches as she goes, and drives home. It therefore follows that she did not actually see her future, because the cliff scenario did not actually occur. Indeed, only if she had not seen her future would she have continued her walk through the forest and fallen over the ledge.

In this installment of my biblical theater series, God and Bob continue to discuss the salvation of man.

Act III: God Throws a “Hail Mary”

God continues his discussion with Bob.

God: You see, Bob, I really do love humanity. I have tried to rescue them a number of times, but despite my omnipotence I have been unsuccessful.

Bob: Surely that would mean that you’re not really omnipotent, sir?

God: Of course not, Bob. Take my word for it, I’m omnipotent. Now, where was I? It’s time I did something really big to save mankind. The thing is, I don’t wish death on those humans who truly love me. But to overcome this problem, I have to find a way for their sins to be paid without them dying in the process.

Bob: I have an idea, sir!

God: And what might that be, Bob?

Bob: Forgive them, sir!

God: Forgive them? You mean, just wipe the slate clean and forget about their sins?

Bob: Yes, sir! Why not, sir? Being omnipotent, you could easily bring them to understand the error of their ways. In fact, why not just bring them to heaven, sir, where there is no sin? Bring them all in today, for that matter! Why let them suffer on the earth any longer?

God: Well, for one thing, Bob, the earth is not so bad. It’s quite beautiful, in fact. Remember, I created it myself.

Bob: Indeed it is beautiful, sir, except for the hurricanes perhaps. You’ve lost quite a lot of humans to hurricanes. And earthquakes. Oh, and the asteroid strikes and volcanic eruptions – those mass extinctions were quite something, weren’t they? And ice ages, floods, and …

God: OK, that’s enough Bob. Let’s get back to the whole forgiveness thing. Your idea sounds reasonable Bob, but I’m afraid I must insist that every sin be paid for. No forgiveness without punishment.

Bob, sighing deeply: Very well, sir. Tell us your new idea then.

God: I’m going to have a human son!

Silence.

Bob: Pardon me, sir?

God: Yes, I’m going to have a human son who, because I’m his father, will be perfect in every way. Then, when he gets to a certain age, it will come to pass that he will be killed for his subversive message. His death will pay for the sins of all humanity.

Bob, perplexed, blinks several times.

Bob: But … how is that fair, sir?

God: What do you mean, Bob?

Bob: Well, if a human commits a sin, how is it fair that he should not be given any punishment, even of the proportionate kind many human societies already mete out? Why would it make sense to punish an innocent man, and let the offender go free?

God: It’s because I love them so much, Bob, I simply can’t stand to see them die, no matter what sins they’ve committed. And, after all, someone has to pay for all that sin.

Bob: But sir, as I’ve already pointed out, it is within your power to mete out some sort of proportional punishment to the people who actually deserve it. Being finite, such punishment would eventually pass, and the sinner could join us in Heaven. Or you could simply forgive everyone without meting out any punishment at all. Either way, you could avoid this rather strange idea that requires a completely innocent man to be tortured and killed for what other people have done.

God: These sound like interesting options, Bob, but I think my mind is made up.

Bob: Of course it is, sir. But, just in case, I think I should mention another potential problem. If it’s true that you want to have your own son die because you cannot stand to see all humanity die, then what about those humans who reject you and are sent to hell?

God: What about them, Bob?

Bob: Well, if you cannot stand to see one of your creation die, then surely it would be even harder to see her being tortured for all eternity?

God: Hmmm, yes, I suppose it would.

Bob: So why, my Lord, don’t you save those people too?

God: Because they rejected me Bob, that’s why.

Bob: But it then seems, sir, that you are more concerned with humans’ attitudes toward you than you are about their own physical and mental well being. You hate the thought of people suffering endlessly, but not enough to forgive them a simple intellectual decision about following you – a decision that actually hurts no one. That sounds a little callous, if I may be so bold.

God: Bob, you’re getting dangerously close to crossing the line. I don’t have any more time for arguments now.

Bob: As you wish, sir. Incidentally, how much do you think you will love your son?

God: Oh, very, very much, I expect.

Bob: But not as much as you love other humans, correct?

God: Probably more than I love other humans, Bob. People tend to love their own kin the most.

Bob: But sir, you’ve said that you’ll sacrifice your son because you love the humans so much. Doesn’t that mean that you’ll love your son less than the other humans?

God: No, why do you say that?

Bob: Well, you have said that your decision to sacrifice your son will be motivated by your love for the humans. In other words, when it comes to choosing between your son and the other humans, your love for the humans will trump your love for your son.

God: Hmm… Perhaps you are right, Bob, but maybe it won’t turn out that way.

Bob: Maybe not. If I may, sir, what punishment have you chosen for your son?

God: I think I’ve decided to have him brutally crucified.

Bob: Gosh, that sounds quite bad, sir. But, if I may be so bold, sir, it doesn’t sound like it would cover the wage of all humanity’s sins.

God: Of course it would, Bob, what do you mean?

Bob: Well sir, the wages of sin is death. But if, for instance, a hundred million people have sinned, surely a hundred million deaths would be needed to pay for those sins?

God: Yes, I suppose that’s right.

Bob: But you’re going to have your son killed only once, not so my Lord?

God: Yes, I am but I … I have other plans for my son, I can’t just kill him over and over again.

Bob: What plans, sir?

God: I’m going raise him to life again three days later.

Once again Bob is perplexed.

Bob: You’re going to do what, sir?

God: You heard me, Bob. I think it would be a fitting symbol of hope. It would let believers know that they’re not doomed to death themselves. It would also convince the humans that the man was really my son.

Bob: Is your son going to know about this plan ahead of time, sir?

God: Yes, he will be part of me, so he will know what I am thinking at all times.

Bob: Part of you, sir?

God: Yes, my son will be part of me. But separate at the same time. And I’ll be sending down a Holy Spirit, too.

Bob: A what, sir?

God: Never mind, Bob, I can see that the mystery is too great for you to comprehend.

Bob: It certainly is mysterious, sir. I take it that your son will not be fully human then?

God: Oh no, he will be fully human.

Bob: But how can he be fully human if he is free from sin, and if part of him is in you?

God: That depends on what you define as “fully human”, I suppose.

Bob: I agree, sir, but I think sin must be part of that definition. Consider this: has there ever been a sinless human?

God: No, there hasn’t. Every single human has sinned at least once. And usually much more than that.

Bob: So isn’t sin part of being fully human, then, sir? Something that appears in every single human being must surely be profoundly human.

God: I’ll have to think about that Bob, but I don’t really like the idea of my son sinning. Come, we have work to do.

Bob: Very well, sir. I suppose one positive thing in all of this is that your son will know that his impending death is temporary. That should ease his mind a little, shouldn’t it?

God: That sounds plausible, Bob. But it will still be a great sacrifice for him.

Bob: Of course, my Lord.

Exeunt.

An exciting young preacher by the name of Jesus becomes well known along the shores of Lake Galilee, and his message reaches even the busy city of Jerusalem. His message is subversive to Roman authority, and he is eventually arrested and sentenced to death by crucifixion.

Three days later (approximately, anyway), God raises him from death, and Christianity is born.

]]> http://kpharri.wordpress.com/2012/01/24/acts-of-god-salvage-and-salvation-part-2/feed/ 0 kpharri spotlight http://kpharri.wordpress.com/2012/01/24/the-quran-part-6-of-10/ http://kpharri.wordpress.com/2012/01/24/the-quran-part-6-of-10/#comments Tue, 24 Jan 2012 02:04:34 +0000 Keith http://kpharri.wordpress.com/?p=2176 ]]>

Jump to:     Main Menu     Part 5

At this point, I’m truly appreciating the need for the hadith, the set of teachings (attributed to Muhammad) that have been built up around the Qur’an. The Qur’an simply doesn’t contain very much information. It is excessively repetitive.

In fact, in my reading, I’ve been tempted to record only those pieces of information that are new: this would save me a lot of time. But I’ve committed myself to recording a brief summary of each sura’s contents, so I find myself writing the same things over and over. So be it, I guess.

There are one or two little nuggets from my latest reading that are worth mentioning. For instance, self-defense is described as morally sound.

Here is the sura-by-sura summary.

========== sura 39

A repetition of some of the usual themes: warnings to unbelievers, Allah created everything, do not worship other gods, Allah did not have a son.

========== sura 40

Basically, an 85-ayah rant against unbelievers.

========== sura 41

• Allah created all things, including some thoroughly incorrect cosmology. This includes seven firmaments about the earth, the lowest of which contains all the stars.
• We sent messengers but they were rejected by the unbelievers.
• The usual threats to unbelievers.

========== sura 42

• Praises to Allah, who gave us the Qur’an.
• Allah created all things.
• Very clearly states that Allah’s religion is the same as that of Abraham, Moses, and Jesus, and that this religion demands no internal divisions (boy, have we messed up big time!).
• Any bad things that happen to us are our own fault (“Whatever misfortune happens to you, is because of the things your hands have wrought” (42:30).
• Proportional punishment is held up to be fair, but forgiveness without punishment is also lauded.
• Self-defense is fine.

========== sura 43

• We destroyed the people who mocked our prophets.
• Allah created all things.
• A warning against those who amass wealth.
• Moses and Jesus were sent as prophets but were ignored.
• The usual threats for unbelievers.

========== sura 44

• Smoke will descend on the people, then be withdrawn. They will not change their wicked ways, and will be met with a mighty “onslaught”.
• Another recounting of the Israeilites’ exodus.
• Another description of the torture that awaits unbelievers, and the gardens, fancy clothes, fruit, and young “companions” (with “lustrous eyes”) that await the faithful.

========== sura 45

• The fact that animals are scattered all over the earth is supposed to be a sign of Allah. So also are things like day and night.
• The usual scorn for arrogant unbelievers, and the usual gloating over their fate.

========== sura 46

• We are exhorted to be kind to our parents.
• The usual warnings to unbelievers.

========== sura 51

• The usual warnings to unbelievers and promises of paradise to the faithful.
• Another recounting of Abraham’s wife’s pregnancy in old age.
• A repeat of the list of messengers whose people rejected them and suffered dire consequences.
• Allah created everything.

========== sura 88

• A description of the torture awaiting unbelievers, and the paradise awaiting the faithful.
• Allah created everything.

—–

Jump to:     Main Menu     Part 7

I continue my modification of biblical stories for the stage with a short exchange about the Fate of Humanity.

Act II: God Mulls the Fate of Humanity

The long history of events portrayed in the Old Testament has come to pass. During this time, God has noticed that all humans, like their original forebears Adam and Eve, are sinful. To get rid of this sin, he has tried several things, including destroying most of humanity in a global flood. Despite God’s omnipotence, however, none of these attempts has been successful.

And so God decides that one final, desperate attempt must be made to save humanity. He talks about his ideas with his faithful servant, Bob.

God: Bob, I’ve been thinking about the continuing sinfulness of the human race.

Bob: I see, sir.

God: They need to be saved, Bob.

Bob: Saved from what, sir?

God: Saved from hell, of course.

Bob: Goodness, sir, why is there such a place?

God: Well, I made it so I could send Satan there.

Bob: Ah, I see. And, if I may sir, who created Satan?

God: I did, of course.

Bob: But why did you create such an evil being, sir? Were you tired of making snakes?

God: Very funny, Bob. Satan was a good angel when I created him. He later fell into evil.

Bob: I’m surprised you didn’t see that coming, sir. Why didn’t you stop him immediately?

God, getting irritated: I am a very busy person, Bob. Please, let’s get back to my new idea.

Bob: Just one more question, sir, if I may. Is everyone destined for hell?

God: Unless they turn their hearts to me, yes, they are.

Bob: That sounds a little unfair, sir.

God, indignantly: Unfair? And why is that?

Bob: Well sir, you are putting them in a rather awkward situation. They are supposed to be free to make an informed decision about whether to love you or not, correct?

God: Yes, I gave them free will for that very purpose.

Bob: But then you also told them that if they decline your offer, you’ll send them to hell?

God: Yes. So what?

Bob: Doesn’t that strike you as a bit, well, coercive, sir? How is it different from a robber who holds a gun to his victim’s head, and says “you are free to give me your money or keep it, but if you keep it, I’ll shoot”?

God: It’s not at all the same, Bob. Trust me.

Bob: Very well, sir. I do have another worry though.

God: Spit it out, Bob.

Bob: Well, you specifically created humans with the freedom to make the choice of loving you or not, which means you were prepared for them to choose either way. Why then would you punish them if, on exercising this freedom, they chose not to love you? Should you not respect, rather than punish, the decision you gave them the power to make?

God: Bob, I really think you are making this more complicated than it really is. I want to talk about my new idea now.

Bob: Sir, if you could just entertain one final question before you go on?

God starts to protest, but being of extraordinary patience – at least occasionally anyway – he stops himself, and permits Bob’s question.

Bob: What sort of sin deserves the punishment of hell, sir?

God: Well, if they choose not to follow me, they will go to hell. The wages of all the other sin is death.

Bob: I’m not sure I understand, sir. An intellectual decision regarding religion is punishable by eternal damnation, but something like rape or murder requires only death? Doesn’t this strike you as somewhat unjust? Come to think of it, humans already mete out their own proportionate punishments for many of the most egregious sins. In these cases, why would any further punishment be necessary? And one last thing, my Lord: those who do choose to follow you are still going to have sinned during their lives, so surely they would also be punishable by death?

God, sighing: Bob, you’re sounding very reasonable but again, that’s just not the way things work. And by the way, yes, all people are going to die because of their sin, even if they choose to follow me, so that’s why I’ve come up with my new idea.

(To be continued…)

I thought it might be fun to recast some well known biblical stories in play form. I’ll call these “Acts of God”.

In the first Act, we have an excerpt from the creation story.

(Oh, and I’ve taken the liberty of giving God a sidekick. His name is Bob.)

Act I: God Creates Humans

Heaven, thousands of years ago. God has created the earth and its various flora and fauna. He now wishes to bring forth an intelligent guardian to take care of his creation. He discusses the situation with his faithful servant, Bob.

God: Bob, I feel the need to put my creative powers to the ultimate test and design an intelligent creature to look after my earth.

Bob: Very good, sir.

God: I think I shall make this new creature in my image. Yet, he shall have no knowledge of good or evil.

Bob: Why not, sir?

God: Well, such knowledge may be dangerous. It may cause him to do bad things.

Bob: Couldn’t you simply create him in such a way that makes it impossible for him to do bad things? You are omnipotent after all. And, what’s more, you yourself have knowledge of good and evil, and you do not do bad things, so we know it’s possible.

God, pondering: Yes, I see your point. I’ll think about it.

God creates Adam and Eve, and places them in an idyllic, leafy location called the Garden of Eden. However, he decides to go with his original plan, and gives Adam and Eve no knowledge of good and evil.

Some time passes, and Adam and Eve are standing beneath an especially beautiful tree in the Garden. As they marvel at the tree, a snake approaches.

The snake, it turns out, can speak.

Snake: Good afternoon, Adam and Eve.

Adam and Eve: What? Who said that?

Snake: Me. Down here… Further down. Yes, the snake. I’m talking.

Adam and Eve: Er… OK.

Snake: This is a lovely tree. Do you know anything about it?

Adam: God told us about it. It is called the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Apparently, if we eat of its fruit, we shall die.

The snake proceeds to tempt Adam and Eve with the fruit of the tree. They eventually succumb, and eat of it. They are given knowledge of good and evil.

It then happens that God and Bob, taking a stroll through the garden, pass near the gathering beneath the tree. Concealed behind a bushy thicket, they overhear the entire exchange, including the debacle over the fruit. Shocked, God leaves his hiding place and confronts his creations. Bob follows.

God: Adam and Eve, what have you done?

Adam and Eve: We have eaten of the forbidden fruit, my Lord.

Bob, whispering to God: Sir, what is this forbidden fruit of which Adam and Eve speak?

God, whispering back to Bob: It is the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Bob: I thought you wanted Adam and Eve to be free of such knowledge?

God: Yes, I did.

Bob: Then why did you put the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil right here in the garden, where they could eat of its fruit whenever they wished?

God: Well, that shouldn’t have mattered because I expressly forbade them to eat the fruit. And they aren’t capable of evil, so it doesn’t make sense for them to disobey me, since that would be evil.

Bob: But sir, they clearly have disobeyed you.

God, a little annoyed: Yes, I see that.

Bob: Perhaps, sir, you did not create the perfect man and woman? Perhaps you made a mistake somewhere?

God, outraged: How dare you suggest something so preposterous! Be gone from my sight!

Bob leaves the scene, perplexed.

God turns to Adam and Eve.

God: Adam and Eve, you have disobeyed me, so I will punish you. You shall leave the garden at once. Adam, you will have to toil in the fields for food. Eve, you will suffer great pain at childbirth. Snake, you will henceforth crawl on your belly.

Adam: If you please, my Lord, we have simply behaved according to our nature, which you created. Perhaps you did not equip us with enough resistance to temptation?

God: Do not talk back to me, Adam! Besides, the snake appears to have been very convincing and difficult to resist.

Eve: Lord, if I may ask, who created the snake?

God: Well, I did, of course.

Eve: But why, oh Lord, would you create such an evil animal as the snake? Was it your intention for him to tempt us, and for us to succumb? If so, then why are you angry with us for fulfilling your plan?

God, at a temporary loss for words, stands awkwardly silent.

Adam: Lord, we understand if you did not see this coming, you can’t be omniscient all the time, right? Perhaps you could simply wipe the slate clean and start over, maybe with no snake and no tree this time?

For a moment, God stares at Adam and Eve indignantly, then leaves the company without another word.

Adam and Eve are summarily banished from the Garden.

I’m thoroughly enjoying Proust was a Neuroscientist, by science writer Jonah Lehrer. His theme is as follows: artists have, on many occasions, discovered profound truths about the brain long before scientists have cottoned on.

It’s a fascinating read.

However, I have one little quibble (thus far). In a chapter about neurogenesis and brain plasticity, Lehrer concludes that so much uncertainty and complexity is involved in determining personality and behavior, that we can effectively say good-bye to determinism, and the lack of free will that accompanies it.  We are not, he claims, the machines we once thought we were.

Not so fast, Mr. Lehrer!

This is, I believe, a problem of misplaced perspective. The types of machines we build, like the 1939 BMW boxer sidevalve engine shown above, are actually just one subset of the machine category: they’re simple. Extremely simple, in fact. They may seem complicated, but far greater complexity, flexibility, and dynamism can easily be found in nature, especially in complex organisms such as ourselves.

Lehrer is therefore quite correct in pointing out how complex and dynamic we are, and he is right that we are not quite like the simple machines we are accustomed to using in everyday life. He is even right that it is not practically possible, at this point, to even attempt to predict human behavior – the amount of information needed to make such projections is staggeringly huge.

But this contrast between ourselves and our machines does not justify placing us in an entirely separate category. We are extremely complex chemical, electrical, mechanical machines, with many more inputs, outputs, and degrees of freedom (in the engineering sense) than most of the machines we’re used to dealing with. We do, nonetheless, perform some of the same functions as our machines: we move, we perform calculations, we sense signals, and we maintain stable thermal and chemical conditions against changes in our environment.

Perhaps we see ourselves as unique because we are conscious, or because we can think. But even these abilities, arising as they do from brain function, can be described in terms of basic physics and chemistry, and are therefore the result of machinations just like everything else.

In short, there is no ghost in the machine.  We are the machine.

If the word “machine” still grates, perhaps there is solace in the knowledge that we – homo sapiens – are the most astoundingly sophisticated, versatile machines ever to have come into being. (To the best of our knowledge, of course!)

Music is a fundamental part of my existence. I can’t imagine life without listening to – and performing – music.

Like me, all music fans find themselves in quite an odd position. We spend many an hour communing, in the privacy of our own heads, with the melodic messages of our favorite artists, but we have very few options indeed for expressing our gratitude. Yes, we can add our screaming voice to the concert hall cacophony, or our comments to the inundated fan page.

None of these gestures, though, compares with the intimacy that the music gives us. There is no way we can return that favor (and perhaps most artists are thankful for that!).

This inability to express gratitude at a direct, personal level is something that saddens me. I think of artists like Paul McCartney, whose music has always been in my library. My parents got me listening to the Beatles when I was just a wee lad. As a teenager I moved on to Wings, and as an adult I’ve thoroughly enjoyed some of his newer works (Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, for instance).

So Paul McCartney, I can safely say, is an important part of my life, as are other artists. Yet I have no real way of telling them that – of explaining to them what their music has meant to me.

It’s a little demoralizing.

Context and Prophecy

Chapters 40 to 55 of Isaiah are known collectively as Deutero-Isaiah [1]. They are thought to have been written shortly after the capture of Babylon by Cyrus the Great, who was considered by some Jews of the time to be a messiah. Against this backdrop, we have the author of Deutero-Isaiah writing about, among other things, an unnamed “suffering servant” of God.

Especially pertinent to messianic prophecy aficionados are the following excerpts from Isaiah 53 (taken from the NET bible):

Vagueness. The prophecy is, like so many others, extremely vague, failing even to mention the name of the principal character or what time period he will appear in. It also describes what must have been a rather typical persecution scenario in those times.

Ex Eventu.  The author of Acts was probably among the first to use the Isaiah prophecy to describe Jesus. In Acts 8, he describes a scene in which a eunuch is reading Isaiah 53:7-8. The eunuch asks Philip who the servant in the prophecy is, and Philip replies that it is Jesus.  This confirms, as we would expect, that the authors of the New Testament manuscripts were well aware of the Isaiah prophecy, and could easily have adapted their narratives of Jesus’ life and death to match it.

Another example is found in the Gospel of John. In the first chapter of this gospel, John the Baptist quotes Isaiah 40 (“I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’”) and the next day identifies Jesus as “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). The author of the Gospel of John, then, was familiar with the Isaiah prophecy, and could simply have inserted it into the speech of John the Baptist (we must remember that the gospel authors did not actually witness John the Baptist or Jesus say anything).

The story of Jesus’ burial in a tomb could also have been developed as a direct response to the Isaiah prophecy. In fact, it’s quite likely that the gospel authors, writing decades after Jesus’ death, actually knew very little about the details of that event, and simply looked up Isaiah 53, believing it was an accurate prophecy and so could be relied upon to fill in certain details of Jesus’ history.

[1] Wikipedia entry on the Book of Isaiah.

Searching for the truth?

When science answers questions, it does so in rather a messy way. The process begins with a plethora of hypotheses, all with their advantages and disadvantages. These hypotheses give rise to tests, usually laboratory experiments or observations. And one by one, the hypotheses fail, leaving one as the most probable answer.

Perhaps my next point is obvious, but I think it ought to be repeated from time to time: the world of religion has not been able to follow a similar winnowing process. Instead of working together to weed out the bad hypotheses from the good, religions tend to ignore each other grumpily or, even worse, achieve dominance through violence. Happily some religions have, in recent times, taken the alternative approach of embracing their divers companions.

What is interesting to me, though, is that almost no religious folk are aware of the underlying epistemological failure that this history of persistent diversity represents. After many thousands of years, religion has failed to find a process by which consensus on fundamental theological questions can be found. No tests or observations seem able to do the trick.

Why is this not more disturbing to religious folks?

After all, these people happily join the jeering crowd that points its fingers at, say, modern cosmological ideas. String theory? M-theory? A load of unverified postulation, they say.

But we all know that these theories will eventually have their day in the court of scientific judgment. Tests will be (and have been) devised. New observations will be made. And eventually, the slow process of science will grind toward a consensus. (It may even take less than a few thousand years.)

But where is the process that sorts good theology from bad? Where is the method by which, for instance, the contradictions between Islam, Christianity, and Judaism can be resolved to the satisfaction of these traditions’ adherents?

There is no such process. The history of religious diversification tells us so.

And so, while such diversity is undoubtedly a rich and colorful flower garden of human culture, it is also the undirected sprawl of a plant whose roots search in vain for purchase.