From Peter Enns, on his blog:

For example, Jesus was human but without sin, but that does not mean that he was not a product of his culture and embodied the limitations of any human being. The fact that Jesus showed fully all the marks of humanity is part and parcel of the incarnation—the atonement and resurrection depend on it. No element of humanity was withheld from him, other than sinfulness. In other words, any aspect of Jesus’ life that speaks to his human limitation is not a function of his sinfulness but of his humanness, for example: that he bled, got hungry, got sick, did not know when the end would come, thought the world was flat, did not understand String Theory, could not speak French. These things do not make Jesus less the Son of God, but are part of what is inherent in Immanuel, God with us.

Peter Enns posted an interesting piece a few days ago. Entitling his post “A Thought on the ‘New Atheism’ and Old Testament Morality,” Enns observes:

NA is quick to point out that no reasonable, compassionate person would model his or her morality by much of Old Testament behavior.

Much of what we find in the OT is, to use an NA phrase, “Iron Age tribalism”: our god is better than your god, and he told us to take your land, kill all of you, and keep the booty. When Christians respond that the OT also carries the injunction to “love your neighbor,” NA responds that one’s ”neighbor” in the OT is fellow Israelites. God is not telling the Israelites to walk on over to the Canaanites and “love them.” Rather, he is telling them to wipe them out and take their land.

I don’t think this observation by NA is cynical or driven by a blind bias (as some of their observations are). Rather the observation is correct. Here the Christian reaction, motivated as it is to defend their understanding of the Bible against criticism, is unconvincing.

Rather than protecting the Bible against such criticism by justifying such instances of OT morality, I think Christians would do better to understand the nature of the OT, accept it for what it is, but then do the necessary theological thinking to give a reasonable and sophisticated account of things. Central to that necessary theological thinking is to bring the NT into the discussion.

In my opinion, Enns puts his finger on one of the biggest weaknesses in recent atheist criticisms of religion in general, and Christianity in particular: like religious fundamentalists, some atheist critics of religion implicitly or explicitly disallow (sometimes a priori) the legitimacy of any change in religious doctrine over time. Enns puts it in terms of “bring[ing] the NT into the discussion,” but that’s not the only way to think about it. Religious fundamentalists often claim (or at least assume) that, at some definable point in the past, a fixed and unchanging body of truth was delivered to one of their religious forebears. Within Christianity, for example, Christian fundamentalists (nowadays) take the Bible as the “final word” on any topic addressed therein. Atheists, of course, do not take the Bible as the “final word” on anything, but in quite a few recent books and speeches, some atheists have dismissed any Christians who do not take this approach. To read some atheist treatments, you’re either a fundamentalist Christian or you’re not a real Christian. Sam Harris makes this rhetorical move very explicitly in Letter to a Christian Nation, but you can find the same maneuver, more or less obviously, in a number of other places.

But religions have always experienced change, and without the religionists themselves feeling that changes in religious doctrine or practice somehow invalidated their religion. The ancient believers whose stories, memories, prayers, and teachings (and so on) are now reflected in the Tanakh, for example, sometimes encouraged their audiences to look back to the ways of their forefathers, and sometimes to abandon the ways of their forefathers. My own specific Christian heritage is that of the Churches of Christ, which have historically tried to marry biblicism and primitivism, resulting in the notion that “restoring the first-century church” by “going back to the Bible” is the most appropriate way to be Christian in the modern world—but ironically, the whole New Testament swells with the idea that God has done something fundamentally new (but not inconsistent) in the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The Roman Catholic Church has long recognized the earliest Christian communities as the starting point for a trajectory through time, not a static pattern that must be maintained regardless of changing circumstances.

Change is normal in religions, including Judaism and Christianity. To admit that “we” (in a particular religion) once thought x about a particular topic, but now think y does not invalidate that religion, nor does it demonstrate the non-existence of whatever deity that religion reveres. Change over time in a religion may speak to the character of that religion or its deity, but changes as such can hardly carry the freight that some recent atheists want to put on them.

A long opinion piece by K.L. Noll, published yesterday on the Chronicle of Higher Education web site, pits religious studies against theology. Noll complains that

Most people do not understand what religious study really is. Professors of religion are often confused with, or assumed to be allies of, professors of theology.

Placing himself firmly on the side of religious studies over against theology, Noll goes on to claim that while religious studies—a historical, religious discipline—advances knowledge, theology does not. Indeed, theology cannot advance knowledge, Noll claims, because

religion does not do what apologists for religion usually say it does. It does not reveal a god to us or enable us to achieve something referred to vaguely as enlightenment. One does not need to be an atheist to realize that each claim of divine revelation exists for some purpose not stated (or, in some cases, not even known) by the one who claims the revelation. A religious truth-claim can be advanced for any number of reasons. It might be a cynical political ploy or a sincere interpretation of genuine experiences that neurobiologists can help us to understand. Likewise, one need not affirm atheism to understand that sacred traditions, like any combination of cultural artifacts and human ideas, survive and replicate for reasons that have little to do with the truth-claims associated with those traditions.

To my mind, this paragraph belies the distinction Noll wishes to enforce. The claim that “religion … does not reveal a god to us”—besides being ridiculously vague, as one can hardly speak about “religion” in the abstract rather than specific religions—is a bald-faced theological claim, not an empirically demonstrable claim about “why and how humans are religious, what religion actually does, and how religion has evolved historically” (Noll’s description of religious studies a paragraph earlier).

Noll further explains his proposed distinction by dehumanizing theologians:

In sum, the religion researcher is related to the theologian as the biologist is related to the frog in her lab. Theologians try to invigorate their own religion, perpetuate it, expound it, defend it, or explain its relationship to other religions. Religion researchers select sample religions, slice them open, and poke around inside, which tends to “kill” the religion, or at least to kill the romantic or magical aspects of the religion and focus instead on how that religion actually works.

Noll then proposes a ridiculous test for how to tell a theologian from a religious researcher:

If you are uncertain with whom you are speaking, just inject the name of Richard Dawkins into the conversation. The theologian will be dismissive of him; the religion researcher will not.

I propose a test of Noll’s test: compare the number of theologians who have actually taken Dawkins’s arguments seriously, as measured by attempts to respond to his arguments as if they mattered, with the number of religious researchers who have chosen not to follow Dawkins in attributing the origins and development of religion to “memes” and by-products of otherwise useful evolutionary adaptations.

As the end of the piece approaches, Noll attempts to claim the ethical high ground for “knowledge-advancing” religion researchers over against “truth-advocacy” theologians:

The distinction that I have drawn between theology and religious study is not merely academic but ethical. In my view, the presence of a discipline within academe that does not attempt to advance knowledge but tries to defend a set of truth-claims for which empirical data are, by definition, unavailable requires of theologians greater ethical responsibility than most of us in academe already acknowledge.

And yet Noll’s article itself is peppered with “truth-claims for which empirical data are, by definition, unavailable,” such as:

• [Religion] does not reveal a god to us or enable us to achieve something referred to vaguely as enlightenment.
• [S]acred traditions, like any combination of cultural artifacts and human ideas, survive and replicate for reasons that have little to do with the truth-claims associated with those traditions.
• [T]alk about a god is, necessarily, talk that never advances knowledge.
• The god of the Bible is the sum total of the words in the text and has no independent existence. It would be reasonable to begin every theological discussion with the disclaimer “the god described in this sacred text is fictional, and any resemblance to an actual god is purely coincidental.”

With the possible exception of the second bullet, these are metaphysical—one might say theological—claims, not scientific, empirical ones.

At any rate, I invite you to read Noll’s article for yourself (a Chronicle subscription may be required, however) and discuss it there, or here.

The Christian Chronicle‘s online edition reports today:

SEARCY, ARK. – A team of Arkansas researchers has been awarded a $1.5 million grant by NASA to develop a system to search for life on Mars.

The team includes Harding University professor Dr. Edmond Wilson and assistant professor Dr. Constance Meadors.

Wilson and Meadors are members of the Arkansas NASA Experimental Program to Stimulate Competitive Research team, which also includes scientists from University of Arkansas at Little Rock and Arkansas Tech University.

Prospects of finding alien life-forms have fascinated me since I was a toddler watching Star Trek, and while NASA is more likely to find microbes than your typical sci-fi Martians, I still eagerly await every bit of news on this topic.

What theological ramifications, if any, do you think finding microbial life on Mars would have? What about intelligent life?

From Peter Enns, on his blog:

But if intention to remain “true” to a “tradition” (which already assumes its non-growth) drives an academic assessment of real evidence (most of which was wholly unavailable when the tradition’s trajectories were set), one runs the risk of adjusting evidence to what one already “knows” to be true. We do not tolerate such sloppy thinking in any other area of human discourse, but when it comes to theological discourse in some circles, it seems to be the preferred method of interaction. When one’s position is by definition unfalsifiable, any meaningful exchange of ideas functionally ceases. Any tradition that aims to promote truth rather than obscure it must be eager to be open to critical evaluation.

If you think about it you’ll see that’s true. You think you are right about everything. I think I’m right about everything. If you asked me, “Why do you hold this view?” and I said, “I hold this view because I think it’s wrong,” you’re going to say, “What an idiot.” No, I hold all the views I hold because I think they are right. I’ve found out sometimes in the past that I’ve been wrong about something, but now I’ve changed my mind about it and I’m right on everything again. I also realize that I may find out some place down the road that one of the views I hold is wrong, but I don’t know what that is because if I did, I would have changed already and again I would be completely right. Everybody thinks they are right about everything. The question is whether we are open and humble enough to say, “It is possible I might have it wrong.”

—Randy Harris, God Work: Confessions of a Standup Theologian (Abilene: Leafwood, 2009)

Luke Tallon sent along this announcement about the third annual Scripture and Christian Theology conference at the University of St. Andrews:

Call for Papers: Genesis and Christian Theology

14–18 July 2009

St Mary’s College, University of St Andrews

The University of St Andrews is pleased to announce its third conference on Scripture and Christian Theology. Since the first conference on the Gospel of John in 2003, the St Andrews conferences have been recognized as one of the most important occasions when biblical scholars and systematic theologians are brought together in conversation about a biblical text. The conferences aim to cut through the megaphone diplomacy or the sheer incomprehension that so often marks attempts to communicate across our disciplines. We invite you then to join us and some of the best theological and biblical minds in careful and often lively interaction about one of the most theologically generative of biblical books: the book of Genesis.

We are now calling for papers that integrate close readings of Genesis with Christian theology. While we are particularly interested in explorations of the dynamic relationship between Genesis and Christian doctrine, we also welcome proposals that combine careful reading of the text of Genesis with theological attention to art, creativity, ecology, ethics, the history of interpretation, or Jewish and Christian dialogue.

The call for paper proposals closes on 15 March 2009. Please visit our website for further details or to submit a proposal: www.st-andrews.ac.uk/divinity/rt/conf/genesis09/.

Now I just need a big infusion of cash so that I can attend!

There’s a new biblical studies mailing list in town: the Biblicalist!

Welcome to The Biblicalist, a biblical studies list of academic emphasis open to all who wish to approach the Bible in its wider context, past and present. All viewpoints and perspectives which draw on the work of scholars in biblical studies and cognate disciplines are welcome.

Topics of discussion include the interpretation of particular texts of the Bible and related literature, the background of ancient Near Eastern and Classical cultures, theological and philosophical reflections on relevant issues, and the Bible in art and literature, including the reception of the Bible from ancient times to the present.

You might notice that the Biblicalist invites a very broad range of topics and theological perspectives, and its moderating team is committed to keeping the conversation civil while bringing as many voices as possible to the table. If you’re interested in an academic biblical studies e-mail discussion list that is open to the full sweep of exegetical and theological studies, one that welcomes discussants of all theological commitments (or lack of same), one that invites participants to bring their theological commitments to bear on their interpretive tasks, then the Biblicalist is for you! Join today!

Note: I offer you this snarky post mostly in jest. I will use specific individuals to exemplify a point. I do not mean to attack those individuals; what I’m attacking, if anything, is overly rigid categorizations.

So if Jim West is right that John Hobbins is right that systematic theologians make lousy exegetes, which of the following books should I throw away?

Note: If you think you might be missing the point of this post, please go back and reread the first paragraph. Thank you.

Update: Judging by Jim’s response, I think I’d better keep the systematics book and look elsewhere for exegetical guidance. Which word of “false dichotomy” didn’t he understand?

Just after Thanksgiving, I tried to launch a series that I was planning to call “Well worth reading.” However, I quickly encountered a problem. Not all of the materials that I read were in fact “well worth reading.” After a bout of indecision, I realized that the “well worth reading” posts needed a counterpart, hence this first installment of “safe to skip.”

Unless you consider yourself an connossieur of all things Bruggemann, with a devotion bordering on obsession (not unlike that Jim West nurses for some fellow named Swingly or something like that), you could spend your time better than to read “Different Perspectives on Divine Pathos: An Examination of Hermeneutics in Biblical Theology” by Matthew R. Schlimm, published in the latest Catholic Biblical Quarterly (vol. 69, no. 4, October 2007, pp. 673–694).

Based on the title, I thought the article would easily snag my interest. It didn’t. The article compares and contrasts comments made by Walter Brueggemann and Terence Fretheim on the topic of divine pathos, and compares and contrasts both to Abraham Joshua Heschel. The paper reads very much like a litany of “he said, he said.” For me, this quickly grew tedious. The whole article reminded me of a graduate student paper (and there’s a very good reason for that: the author is a graduate student).

To be fair, the last four pages or so did contain some very useful nuggets, but I don’t think they really required slogging through the previous 18 pages to get there. For example:

… interpreters and theologians who speak of divine pathos need to clarify what they mean by such a term and not assume that its meaning is self-evident. (p. 690)

Biblical theologians should, therefore, both outline their interpretive paradigms and justify their approaches to the text. (p. 690)

Brueggemann’s work could be enhanced by greater attention to [literary] context. (p. 692)

These are good sound bites, but basically truisms as well. Schlimm ends with a prescription:

Responsible interpretation takes account of metaphorical discontinuity without being dominated by it. It avoids the dangers of imposing preconceived ideas about God and emotions onto the biblical text, allowing the text to speak on its own terms. It finds imaginative ways of capturing the force of the text’s language while also acknowledging the limits of such language. (p. 694)

I don’t disagree with Schlimm’s advice. However, this advice does not seem to me actually to follow as a conclusion to Schlimm’s analysis of Heschel, Fretheim, and Brueggemann on divine pathos; rather, I suspect that the conviction expressed in the closing sentences actually pervades the whole article and informs the critique that Schlimm offers in the final section.

Honestly, if you’re interested in analyses of the work of Heschel, Fretheim, and/or Brueggemann, you will find value in this article. However, if your interest is actually in the topic of divine pathos as such, rather than these three interpreters’ hermeneutical approaches to divine pathos, you’ll need to look elsewhere for substantive content.