Right Reason

According to Chuck Missler, the Olivet Discourse in the Gospels is a problem. It’s not that he rejects it altogether, but it’s still a problem that he thinks needs to be resolved.

A major part of the reason that he thinks it’s a problem is here:

1) Jesus said in the Olivet discourse that the events he was describing would take place within “this generation.” No problem so far.

2) Chuck Missler doesn’t believe that the events that Jesus was speaking about did take place within that generation. There’s the problem.

If Chuck simply took 1) seriously, there would be no problem. He only thinks there’s a problem to resolve because of 2). Missler is a futurist, that is, he thinks that the events described in Matthew 24 are all in the future. Preterism is the view that the events that Jesus spoke about took place within that generation, that is, within the first century. They were in the future when Jesus predicted them, but then they happened, and they are now in the past. Preterists take the biblical references to timing quite literally. But look how Missler characterises the difference between futurists and preterists (“dispensationalism” is a type of futurism):

For many students of eschatology – the study of last things – the so-called Olivet Discourse has proven to be a troublesome passage; a hermeneutical battleground between the dispensationalists and the preterists, etc. The preterists insist that this passage – and the Book of Revelation – has been already fulfilled, and much of it is dismissed by them as simply allegorical. Yet even those who embrace a dispensational view have difficulty reconciling many of the Olivet Discourse passages.

Dismissed? What? The tactic is pretty weak: If someone takes a passage very seriously, but does not reach the same conclusion that you reach, simply allege that they dismiss the passage altogether.

The claim is pretty ironic, given that it is the preterists who are merely asking that we take Jesus’ claim about “this generation” seriously, while it is the futurists (like Missler) who are – for want a gentler term – dismissing such texts and labeling them as “problems” that we need to resolve so they will go away.

Dr Missler, here’s a great way to resolve the problem: Believe what Jesus said! Don’t be scared of the p word. Come on in Chuck, the water is lovely.

Some scientists in New Zealand aren’t happy.

Here’s why: An American group called the heartland institute cited the research of a number of scientists as part of their argument against the concerns about global warming. (The specific article is apparently buried somewhere in their maze-like website). BUT, these scientists object (in the words of Dr Jim Salinger), “We say global warming is real.”

On this basis, Dr Salinger (and other NZ scientists who were cited) has publicly alleged that the Heartland Institue has acted “unethically.”

The principle here, apparently, is that if someone cites your research and uses it to contribute to their casefor a view you don’t hold, they are being unethical. I say: What a bunch of crybabies. It is common for people making arguments to appeal to the claimsof those who disagree with them. In a courtroom it’s what is called a “hostile witness.” Dr Salinger complains that the Heartland Institute cited his claim that there have been warm and cold cycles in the earth’s history, because he himself doesn’t think that this observation undermines global warming at all. So what? Dr Salinger might not think so, but surely the author of the Heartland Institute’s article is quite entitled to think so.

Heck, when writing my own articles or theses I appeal to everty concession I can get from those who disagree with me. Calling it “unethical” is just a case of people being upset that their research has contributed to a cause that they didn’t want it to contribute to.

Heck, why don’t I just cry crocodile tears and say: “Boo hoo – some guy appealed to Calvin’s defence of the execution of Servetus as an argument for the conclusion that Christianity is evil. But Calvin didn’t think Christianity was evil. So this skeptic is being unethical, using Calvin’s claims to reach a conclusion that Calvin never held!”

Cry me a river. Welcome to a world where people disagree with you.

Recently, three men (one of whom is a Dominican Friar) broke into the Waihopai spy base in New Zealand – supposedly a top security facility, and deflated one of the enormous balloon-like covers of a satellite dish.

Setting aside the embarrassing fact of how apparently easy this was, the men themselves, now granted bail, have described their deeds as comparable to those of our war heroes. From a recent news story:

He [Mr Murnane – one of the accused] revealed that the three men had all been wearing poppies on Wednesday morning last week when they set about deflating one of the two balloons surrounding the satellite dishes.

“The people who died (as Anzac soldiers) died against tyranny. We wore red poppies when we did the job and we were proud of that, it is the same tradition,” Murnane said.

The same tradition – those who went to war for New Zealand, and those who damage Government owned spy bases. It’s certainly not impossible. Patriotism is not, after all, a love of the state. It’s a love of one’s country, and it’s quite conceivable that one could fight for one’s country and destroy spy bases in the same country out of love for that country – a love which may very well engender contempt for the state, if that state is not acting in the best interests of the country.

I’m not saying that I agree with what these folk did. I wouldn’t do it. But even if these guys are off their rockers, this relatively small event should get a few of us to look again at the issue of whether or not patriotism might sometimes put you at loggerheads (and even in the firing line) of those who govern the country towards which your patriotism is directed.

While I’m working on the McGrath/Hitchens review, here are some dope Dawkins rhymes.

Late in 2007, Christopher Hitchens and Alister McGrath met for a public debate on the topic of Religion: The Poison or the Cure, where the merits – or lack thereof, of religion (and Christianity in particular), were thrown back and forth. I’ve written up my summary of the debate, and I’m in the process of writing a review, and I’ll post it when it’s done.

Unlike some comments out there on the debate, it really will be a review. The Hitchens/Dawkins fanclub over at Dawkins’ site, of course, make the truly important observations on the debate here (and on the subsequent pages in that forum). Apparently “Alistair McGrath is a nonce.” Crucially, “There’s something very comical about the way that this McGrath person moves about as he talks.” But what strikes me as genuinely revealing about just how familiar the fanbois are with the person they are talking about was this gem in the very first comment: “That guy just strikes me as a very small person that makes a living out of Dawkins’ fame. How come he can’t seem to manage writing a book that isn’t about somebody else’s work?”

Wow. Just wow. McGrath has written two books in which he criticises Dawkins. Two. Put that next to the fact that McGrath has authored at least 18 academic books (the list there does not appear to include the Dawkins Delusion) and edited three larger volumes, written a couple of textbooks, and authored literally dozens of peer reviewed articles, including a few in science. Yep, that’s McGrath all right, riding the coat-tails of Richard Dawkins.

Jaqueline Salmon reviewed the debate in the Washington Post here.  She concludes, “Nobody got knocked down, nobody was knocked out, no arm was held up in triumph, the eternal question remains unresolved.” I can’t say I share her conclusion. It’s my humble opinion that in flamboyant presentation Hitchens won, and on content, Hitchens left in a body bag – but I’ll also be suggesting that McGrath could (should) have done better on the offensive.

Stay tuned, I’ll announce when the review is online.

It’s the Easter season. Today is Good Friday. Christmas is good and all, but I have to share Tom Wright’s dissatisfaction with the fact that Christmas has come to overshadow Easter both in the commercial world and in the Church in many parts. The death and resurrection of the Son of God is the heart of the Christian faith, and if what we say is true, it is the sequence of events that changes everything. It is an embarassing affront to anyone who wants to take the name of Jesus, yet hold to a sort of invisible and irrlevant spiritual Gospel, or a version of the Saviour that accomodates inner peace and eternal (yet decidely immaterial) life. Easter reminds us that Christianity presents us with a flesh and blood man who died and who bodily rose. You can’t hide a religion like that in respectable language that doesn’t want to give the appearance of crudeness or falsifiability. We don’t shrink back from saying that this completely dead man was brought back to life and not only that, presented himself to his followers as the physical, completely credible and very real Lord of creation. There’s no room for blushing liberals to have a sort of divine moral example who will live on in our hearts, or any kind of Platonic teacher of wisdom who has transcended the unnecessary physical world. Christianity will have none of that. Like it or leave it, but you can’t re-make Easter in a more respectable mold. The physical death and physical resurrection of Jesus is what grounds our hope, not only of eternal life, but of the transformation and ultimate redemption of creation. It gives the things that God has made eternal value. God is interested in the world, it is not destined for the scrap heap, and he is pleased to see it redeemed. Tom Wright, mentioned earlier, has plenty to say about this in his excellent book Surprised by Hope (SPCK, 2007), which I’m reading at present, and will be reviewing when I am done.

On another note, but staying with the Easter theme, this interesting and short article has appeared at the website of the Biblical Archaeology Society. We typically think of the scene of Jesus’ prayers in Gethsemane prior to his arrest as taking place in a garden. But the New Testament never actually refers to Gethsemane as a garden. Gethsemane is a cave!

Image: The cave of Gethsemane.