Frontline Video: From Jesus to Christ

Watch From Jesus to Christ: The First Christians (Pt. 1) on PBS. See more from FRONTLINE.

This is a fantastic video if you want to understand the origins of early Christianity, how if formed, why it evolved as it has, what influenced it, what the different types of competing Christianities were, and why the version we have now won out out over all others. This video includes scholars such as Elaine Pagels, Helmut Koester, Paula Fredriksen, and others. This is really a must watch! Fascinating!

Jesus Coaches Up Tim Tebow

I know I'm a little late in seeing this video, but this is got to be one of the funniest I have seen in a while. Any good bit of humor has an element of truth!

7 Reasons For Atheists to Celebrate the Holidays

Source: Greta Christina' Blog

It's often assumed that the atheist position on what is politely termed "the holiday season" is one of disregard at best, contempt and annoyance at worst. After all, the reasons for most of the standard winter holidays are supposedly religious -- the birth of the Savior, eight days of miraculous light, yada yada yada. Why would atheists want anything to do with that?

But atheists' reactions to the holidays are wildly varied. Yes, some atheists despise them: the enforced jollity, the shameless twisting of genuine human emotion to sell useless consumer crap, the tyrannical forcing of mawkish piety down everyone's throats. (Some believers loathe the holidays for the exact same reasons.) But some of us love the holidays. We love the parties, the decorations, the smell of pine trees in people's houses, the excuse to eat ourselves sick, the reminder that we do in fact love our family and friends. We're cognizant of the shameless twisting and mawkish piety and whatnot -- but we can deal with it. It's worth it for an excuse to drink eggnog with our loved ones and bellow out "Angels We Have Heard On High" in half-assed four-part harmony. (In fact, when it comes to the holidays, atheists are in something of a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" position. If we scorn them, we get called Scroogy killjoys... but if we embrace them, we get called hypocrites. Oh, well. Whaddya gonna do.)

So today, I want to talk about some of the reasons that some atheists love the holidays: in hopes that believers might better understand who we are and where we're coming from... and in hopes that a few Scroogy killjoys, atheist and otherwise, might be tempted to join the party. (If not -- no big. I recognize and validate your entirely reasonable annoyance at the holidays. And besides, Scroogy killjoys are an important holiday tradition.)
Speaking of which:

Reason #7: Holiday traditions are comforting. The human need for tradition and ritual seems to be deeply ingrained. It's comforting to do things at the same time every day or every year: things we did as a child, things our parents and grandparents did. It gives us a sense of continuity, of being part of a pattern that's larger than ourselves, of passing along ideas and customs that we hope will live on after we die. For those of us who don't believe in an afterlife, that last bit can be extra important. And when those customs and rituals are about joy and celebration and people we love and so on... that makes it extra nifty.

#6: The holidays connect us with our ancestors... and with the earth and the seasons. In modern civilized culture, we tend to treat the changing seasons largely as a fashion challenge and an excuse to complain. (Even in San Francisco, where the temperature rarely gets above 80 or below 40, we still gripe about the weather.)
But for our ancestors, the changing seasons were a critically important part of their lives: a matter of life and death, which they watched and marked with great and careful attention. The winter solstice holidays rose up as a way to mark those changes... and to celebrate the all-important imminent return of the sun and the warmth and the longer days. Celebrating the holidays reminds us of what life was like for the people who came before us -- the people who are responsible for us being here.

#5: Presents. 'Nuff said.

#4: The War on the War on Christmas. Watching Bill O'Reilly and the Christian Right work themselves into an annual lather over the fact that (a) not everyone in America celebrates Christmas and (b) some well-mannered businesses choose to recognize this fact by using ecumenical or secular holiday greetings... this is some of the best free entertainment we could ask for.
Sure, it's theocratic. Sure, it's bigoted. Sure, it has its roots in anti-Semitism and white supremacy. But it's also freaking hilarious. Watching these hypocrites twist themselves into knots explaining why America is a Christian nation and it's the grossest insult to acknowledge the existence of other religions by saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas"... and why this stance somehow isn't shameless religious bigotry? It's the best contortionist act in town. And like the circus, it comes around every year.

#3: The holidays connect us with the universe. Axial tilt is the reason for the season! For many atheists, one of the greatest joys of atheism is that it opens up an awe-inspiring world of science. It's not that believers don't care about science: many of them do. But the passionate love of science is a defining feature of the atheist movement, and many of us will take any opportunity to gush about the topic ad nauseam. Usually in embarrassing, Carl-Sagan-esque, "billions and billions of stars" purple prose.
And the holidays are another excuse to go gaga over the wonders of science. They're another way to celebrate the fact that we're living on a tilty rock whizzing through frigid space around a white-hot ball of incandescent plasma. Neat!

#2: The music. You heard me right. I actually like holiday music.
Not the gloppy shopping-mall Muzak that gets forced into our bleeding eardrums every year, despite our cries of pain and pathetic pleas for mercy. I hate that stuff as much as anyone. But some holiday music is seriously pretty. The soaring eerieness of "The Angel Gabriel"; the strangely haunting cheeriness -- or cheery hauntingness? -- of "Chanukah, Oh Chanukah"; the lilting saunter of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland"; the majestic transcendence of "Angels We Have Heard On High" (especially when sung in half-assed, eggnog-addled four-part harmony). Some of this stuff is freaking gorgeous. The really old stuff especially. If you like the tunes but can't stomach the lyrics... well, there's a wide world of holiday song parodies at your disposal. (My personal faves: the H.P. Lovecraft ones, and the Christmas-themed parody of "Bohemian Rhapsody.")
And as I discovered when I was digging up lyrics for a Christmas party songbook, a lot of holiday music is entertainingly grotesque and surreal. You don't have to dip into the Lovecraft Solstice Songbook to find holiday songs about blood, suffering, torment, and death. I mean, "Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume/ Breathes a life of gathering gloom/ Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying/ Sealed in a stone cold tomb"? What's not to like?
And the Number One Reason for Atheists to Celebrate the Holidays:

#1: For the same damn reason everyone else does. Because it's dark and cold, and it's going to be dark and cold for a while... so it's a perfect time to decorate and light lights and celebrate the fact that we're alive. Because we're all going to be cooped up inside together for a while... so it's a perfect time to have parties and give presents and eat big festive dinners and otherwise remind ourselves of why we love each other. Because this time of year can truly suck... so it's a perfect time to remember that the cold and dark won't be here forever, and that the warmth and light are coming back.
Any day now.

Louise Antony-Goodness Minus God

One of the things I will discuss quite a bit in upcoming posts is the subject of morality. For me it was my single biggest concern that I had as I felt my faith slip away. "Would I have any basis to continue to be a good person?"

As I discuss morality with more and more with theists and apologists I have been astonished to some of claims I have heard. For example, without God we would have no basis to say that rape was wrong or that the Holocaust was objectively wrong. Really? God or no god, if you were about to incinerate one of my family members, I would not need a divine command to pull them out of the oven and throw you in it instead.

Theists make such claims as appeals to outrage. Who in their right mind wants to be in a position where they can't condemn a Hitler or a Charles Manson? They think that the existence of objective moral facts are so inexplicable that only an appeal to a transcendant lawgiver can offer any plausible explanation and thus is a slam-dunk proof that a god exists.

Louise Antony, a philosopher at the University of Massachusettes in Amherst, explains in a clear and concise way the problems, absurdities, and down-right immorality of grounding morality in  a diety. Her article appeared in the New York Times and can be read here.

If you don't have time to read the entire article, here are a couple of quotes worth mentioning that highlight her key arguments:

“First let’s take a cold hard look at the consequences of pinning morality to the existence of God. Consider the following moral judgments — judgments that seem to me to be obviously true:

• It is wrong to drive people from their homes or to kill them because you want their land.

• It is wrong to enslave people.

• It is wrong to torture prisoners of war.

• Anyone who witnesses genocide, or enslavement, or torture, is morally required to try to stop it.

To say that morality depends on the existence of God is to say that none of these specific moral judgments is true unless God exists. That seems to me to be a remarkable claim. If God turned out not to exist — then slavery would be O.K.? There’d be nothing wrong with torture? The pain of another human being would mean nothing?”

Even if I were a moral nihilist (which I am not) the claim that I would not be able to recognize the pain and suffering, the thwarting of human desires that these actions cause to other human beings is really an extreme claim.

"If all “moral” means is “commanded by God,” then we cannot have what we would otherwise have thought of as moral reasons for obeying Him. We might have prudential reasons for doing so, self-interested reasons for doing so. God is extremely powerful, and so can make us suffer if we disobey Him, but the same can be said of tyrants, and we have no moral obligation (speaking now in ordinary terms) to obey tyrants. (We might even have a moral obligation to disobey tyrants.)"

Theists do have a response to this which I will take up in later posts, but it's not very persuasive and pretty much evacuates any meaning from the word "morality".

And lasty, "(T)here are things one loses in giving up God, and they are not insignificant. Most importantly, you lose the guarantee of redemption…I imagine that the promise made by many religions, that God will forgive you if you are truly sorry, is a thought would that bring enormous comfort and relief. You cannot have that if you are an atheist. In consequence, you must live your life, and make your choices with the knowledge that every choice you make contributes, in one way or another, to the only value your life can have.

Can I hear an "AMEN" to that?

Penn State’s Mike McQueary and Applied Christian Apologetics

Penn State assistant football coach Mike McQueary has been the target of outrage from people all across the country who believe that he didn’t do enough to stop his colleague Jerry Sandusky from molesting a boy when he walked in on Sandusky and the boy in the shower of the  locker room back in 2002. Furthermore, McQueary did not report the incident to the police and, as a result, it is believed that Sandusky was allowed to continue on with his nefarious ways until finally resigning from coaching just a few years ago.  The moral outrage directed towards McQueary is because he could have stopped the molestation of several children, but he didn’t. 

Most of us instantly recoil at the thought of someone not acting to prevent the suffering of a child when they could have.  Yet Christian philosophers and apologists provide a  variety of arguments that an all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving, all-good God is off the hook for idly sitting by and watching the suffering of countless numbers of his creation, including children. 

Bradley C. Bower / AP

If these arguments are good enough for God, are they good enough to get Mike McQueary off the moral hook?  Let’s try a little applied Christian apologetics and imagine actually trying to defend McQueary using the same reasons given for God’s inaction.   

The JOB Defense:  McQueary could argue that, after all, who do we think we are questioning the behavior of football coaches in the locker room? How can we, mere sports couch potatoes, know what kind of behavior is appropriate? How many of us have ever been in a football locker room?  And if we have, has it been the locker room of one of the most prestigious football programs in the history of the game?  Do we even know the number of football players on a team?  How to read a playbook?  How to sweep left? Line up in nickel formation?  Blitz?   McQueary should argue that we simply have no standing to comment on anything that goes on in a football locker room, period.

The “Can’t Have One Without the Other” Defense:  McQueary could say that in order to really appreciate coaches that act appropriately around children we must experience coaches that don’t every once in a while. You can’t have good coaches without bad coaches.  To step in and stop Jerry Sandusky would be depriving the rest of us the knowledge of truly evil coach and the appreciation of what it’s like to have good coaches.

The “Character Builder” Defense:  McQueary could argue that Sandusky’s molestation of the child in the locker room was ultimately for the child’s benefit, and had he stepped in and thwarted Sandusky, that victim and all the others would have missed out on the character-building effects the experience produced.   After experiencing such a horrific act, Sandusky’s victims will now be better able to cope with later suffering in life; will be more empathetic to others in the same situation, or a number of other benefits. 

The Free-Will Defense McQueary could argue that the most important thing in the world for any coach to be able to do is to exercise his own free will.  After all, what good would it be if coaches only acted appropriately towards young children because they had to?  Sometimes when you have free will you make the wrong decisions, but you can’t expect a guy to step in and stop someone every time they use their free will to make a wrong decision, can you?

The” Mystery or Skeptic” Defense: McQueary could argue that unless someone can prove that he didn’t have a really good reason not to go to the authorities and report Sandusky, then they can’t really say he was wrong for not acting.  If someone then asks him, “What exactly was your reason?” he should just say, “You’ll have to see for yourself in five (ten, fifteen, twenty, etc…) years, but it’s a really good one I can assure you!”

I suspect that McQueary would not fare too well with arguments like these.  I’m more inclined to believe McQueary when he says that he was “shocked, horrified, not thinking straight” after witnessing the events in question, and that contributed to his inaction. The question is, “Are apologists and their followers ‘thinking straight’ when they defend the existence of God in spite of inaction in the face of suffering with arguments that don’t measure up to anyone’s own moral sensibilities anywhere except in their own mind?”

The Christian Delusion: Introduction

In his anthology The Christian Delusion, editor John Loftus predicts what the Christian response will be to his book when he says, “What typically happens in every generation as Christians are forced to confront skeptical arguments against their beliefs is that instead of giving up their faith, they reinvent it (17)”   And like a chameleon that changes colors to protect itself from outside threats and dangers, Loftus lists the changes that he has seen in Christianity is his lifetime:

·         Christians  such as Alvin Plantinga and William Lane Craig claim that Christian belief is “properly basic” and affirmed by the “inner witness of the Holy Spirit” respectively, in  an attempt to give the faithful a reason to sidestep the charges of skeptics

·         Hell as a place of fire and brimstone has been replaced with the idea as hell as an “absence from God” or simply annihilation from existence altogether.

·         “Open Theism” has led to profound changes among some Christians to God’s foreknowledge and omnipotence, namely that God doesn’t know the future and doesn’t have the power to change it.

·         Satan is now blamed for millions of years of animal suffering.

·         Preterism, the view that all of Jesus’ eschatological predictions were fulfilled with the destruction of the Jerusalem temple in 70AD, is now embraced by Christians as a response to Jesus’ failed prophesies of his return.

·         Some have even given up on the idea of the supernatural altogether and claim that Jesus didn’t actually rise from the dead physically, but rather spiritually.

·         And some are even embracing homosexuality

Loftus argues that Christians are deluded (thus the title of the book). He doesn’t claim that this delusion is a mental disorder, rather it is the result of built in social conditioning that trains one to believe and contains certain defense mechanisms to squash out doubt.   The critic will of Loftus will claim that mere disagreement among Christians does not falsify their entire religion, but that’s not the argument that Loftus is making.  His argument is that Christianity is ultimately a human invention that has survived due to its ability to adapt to the selective pressures from science, skeptics, and other faiths. Loftus himself is not deluded to think that mere refutations of traditional Christian claims will exterminate their faith.  He says that Christianity will change.  “The Christianity of the past was different than today’s…And the Christianity of the future will be just as different as the presently accepted one (19).”  Thus, Loftus’s challenge to the believing reader is to put their faith to the test, and to examine the claims of Christianity with the same level of skepticism that they apply to religious claims besides their own.

The Christian Delusion

Stay tuned. In anticipation of John Loftus's second addition of "Why I Became an Atheist", I am going to be blogging through "The Christian Delusion" and "The End of Christianity". If you have not yet read "The Christian Delusion", you can get it here.

How to be an Atheist Apologist

The Secular Outpost: Sarcasm: How to be an Atheist Apologist

Hitchens, Falwell and Death

     What would Christopher Hitchens want others to say about him in his death? Would he want others to romanticize his life? Would he want his enemies and adversaries to say disingenuously kind things about him? Would you expect Hitchens, on his deathbed, to issue a worldwide apology for offending those with religious beliefs?

      As we remember Christopher Hitchens today, I can’t help but recall the performance he gave on the Hannity and Colmes Show back in May, 2007 upon Jerry Falwell’s death. Hitchens was unrepentant for his lack of sympathy for Falwell and when challenged that his harsh comments may actually cause harm and pain to Falwell’s grieving family, Hitchens buckled down even more and said, “He established a business, a racket in my opinion. He was a religious entrepreneur…He left the business to his children. It’s a hereditary job. Let that console them.”

      Hitchens told Hannity: “You invite me here to give my opinion of the departed, I give it to you, and then you say,‘Well, might that not upset his family?’ I said it while he was alive. Why might that not have upset his family, too?”

      For those of us that admired Hitchens we can take comfort in the fact that Hitchens immortality is found in the writings and commentaries he left behind. For those that despised Hitchens and his views I think it is safe to say that you do him no honor to sugar-coat what you believe to be true about him now. If he did not make a confession of faith in Jesus, you believe that Hitchens left this world of pain and suffering and entered and even more ferocious and eternal one. There’s no need to gloss over your belief. I don’t think Hitchens would have wanted it any other way.

50 Renowned Academics Speak About God

Steven Maitzen's Lecture Where He Argues That Morality is Impossible With God.

For hundreds of years morality and theism have gone hand in hand. In this lecture, Stephen Maitzen flips this commonly understood proposition on its head.  You can listen to his lecture here.

You can also read his paper "Ordinary Morality Implies Atheism" here.

Top Ten Signs You’re a Fundamentalist Christian

The following list is from Evil Bible.com.  I was also recently posted at Debunking Christianity.

10 – You vigorously deny the existence of thousands of gods claimed by other religions, but feel outraged when someone denies the existence of yours.

9 – You feel insulted and “dehumanized” when scientists say that people evolved from other life forms, but you have no problem with the Biblical claim that we were created from dirt.

8 – You laugh at polytheists, but you have no problem believing in a Triune God.

7 – Your face turns purple when you hear of the “atrocities” attributed to Allah, but you don’t even flinch when hearing about how God/Jehovah slaughtered all the babies of Egypt in “Exodus” and ordered the elimination of entire ethnic groups in “Joshua” including women, children and trees!

6 – You laugh at Hindu beliefs that deify humans, and Greek claims about gods sleeping with women, but you have no problem believing that the Holy Spirit impregnated Mary, who then gave birth to a man-god that got killed, came back to life and then ascended into the sky.

5 – You are willing to spend your life looking for little loopholes in the scientifically established age of the Earth (few billion years), but you find nothing wrong with believing dates recorded by Bronze Age tribesmen sitting in their tents and guessing that Earth is a few generations old.

4 – You believe that the entire population of this planet with the exception of those who share your beliefs – though excluding those in all rival sects – will spend Eternity in an infinite Hell of Suffering. And yet consider your religion the most “tolerant” and “loving.”

3 – While modern science, history, geology, biology and physics have failed to convince you otherwise, some idiot rolling around on the floor speaking in “tongues” may be all the evidence you need to “prove” Christianity.

2 – You define 0.01% as a “high success rate” when it comes to answered prayers. You consider that to be evidence that prayer works. And you think that the remaining 99.99% FAILURE was simply the will of God.

1 – You actually know a lot less than many atheists and agnostics do about the Bible, Christianity and church history – but still call yourself a Christian.

Check One Off for the Apologists!

According to the Debunking Christianity website, one of their own has converted back to Christianity.  Read about it here and see what you think.

Why Don't We Change our Mind More Often?

Here's a great quote that I came across today on Lesswrong.com from Robin Hanson (By the way, he's an econonmist so as an economics major I just want to say that I have an automatic bias in his favor!).

"Most abstract beliefs most people have make pretty much no difference to their actions. They hold those beliefs not to advise action but to help them think and talk about interesting topics, so they can win friends (and mates and employers) and influence people. For these purposes, changing their minds may well not usually be a good deal."

You can see the article he was responding to here:

http://lesswrong.com/lw/gq/the_proper_use_of_humility/

My Story Part 2: Thoughts about Reason and Emotions

                If you missed the first part of My Story, please click here.

                As I sit down and try and piece together a chronological history of how came to lose my Christian faith I have come to realize how difficult and virtually impossible task it is, at least for me.  The difficulty lies in the fact that I did not set out to lose my faith or even really examine it.  There was no starting point on my journey.  In fact what I have come to recognize is that for me losing faith has been a lifelong journey of thoughts, observations, and doubts—sometimes conscious, other times unconscious—that culminated a short time ago.  Furthermore, I recognize that had the serendipitous confluence of events that led to the crumbling of my belief not taken place at the exact point in time and in the exact order that they did, I may still be a Christian today.

                All of us would like to believe that we are rational human beings.  We would like to believe that when we make important decisions about beliefs, worldviews, morality, and other matters of significance that we park our emotions at the front door.  Yet the truth is that separating our rationality from our emotions is impossible and even undesirable.  Studies have shown that people whose emotional center in the brain is damaged are able to analyze information yet unable use that information to make decisions. 

                The point is that few of us, including myself, adopted our faiths for purely rational reasons, and few of us will be argued out of our faiths for purely rational reasons.  Most of us adopted the faiths of our parents, a faith that in many was more similar than not to the faiths of others in their geographical region.  Our faith gained us membership into caring communities, provided a vehicle to celebrate life events and rights-of-passage, provided an instant worldview and a feeling of privilege and status in the cosmos.   These are hard facts to give up.

                Yet at some point for some of us events and emotions collide and impel us to reexamine the beliefs and views we once thought sacred, to reexamine them with the same rationality and skepticism as an outsider would.  James Barr said that it often takes a crisis to knock someone into Christian fundamentalism and it will probably take a crisis to knock them out of it.  For me there was no single crisis, rather a series of crises that eroded my beliefs.  The rest of my story will look at some of these events in their own right, not necessarily temporally.

Is Mark Driscoll Really All That Crazy?

 Mark Driscoll, the Reformed theological wunderkind and Mars-Hill Church pastor extraordinaire “sees things”…and directly from Jesus!

If you are not familiar with Driscoll he is conservative and Reformed theologically but contemporary in his delivery.  He wears jeans and sweatshirts behind the pulpit (and the occasional Mickey Mouse t-shirt as you can see in the video). Once a self-identified member of the Emerging Church movement, Driscoll left the movement because of “growing theological differences”[1] with some of the movement’s leaders. Currently he is more identified with Reformed pastors looking to keep the church relevant in today’s culture such as John Piper, Tim Keller, and D.A. Carson.[2] 

Despite his conservative, evangelical credentials Driscoll is not without critics from his own team.   Driscoll’s penchant for delivering racy sermons has led some evangelicals to accuse Driscoll of being guilty of “the pornification of the pulpit”[3] and inspired John MacArthur to rebut Driscoll’s exposition of the Song of Solomon with a series of articles entitled “The Raping of Solomon’s Song”[4].  Says MacArthur, “Apparently the shortest route to relevance in church ministry right now is for the pastor to talk about sex in garishly explicit terms during the Sunday morning service.”[5]

Driscoll’s new revelation from the pulpit will do little silence his critics from inside of Christendom and only increase the skepticism and cynicism of the mind control and scare tactics of fundamentalist evangelical preachers from those of us on the outside.  In a recent sermon Driscoll says that he “sees things”.  Pedophilia from decades past, wife beatings, sexual escapades, rapes, baby dedications to Satan; Driscoll has seen it all. Like he has “a TV right here, and (he’s) seeing it,” Driscoll’s visions appear to him as if God has implanted a virtual Law and Order: SVU before his very eyes.

In one instance Driscoll informs a congregant of sexual abuse they suffered as an infant.  The victim of course had no recollection of this.  When Driscoll encourages the victim to confront the perpetrator—the victim’s grandfather—the grandfather says, “Yeah, I did it, but how did you know.  You were only like one or two years old.”  Why Pastor Mark told me, says the victim.

In another instance Driscoll has a premonition of a woman being beaten by her husband.  When Driscoll confronts the husband in the wife’s presence he tell the perpetrator that his wife didn’t rat him out, it was Jesus!

Not only are Driscoll’s visions predominantly sexual in nature but he goes even further by implying that he not only knows the deeds of the perpetrators but their thoughts as well.  For example, in recounting the sexual affair one purported counselee Driscoll says:

Satan has a foothold in your life because you never told your husband about that really tall blond guy that you met at the bar, and then you went back to the hotel, and you laid on your back, and you undressed yourself and he laid on top of you and you had sex with him snuggled up with him for a while.  And deep down in your heart—even though you had just met him—you desired because, secretly, he is the fantasy body type.  I said, “You remember that place.  It was that cheap hotel with that certain color bed spread.  You had sex with the light on because you weren’t ashamed because you wanted him to see you and you wanted to see him...”

Whoa!  This is not your grandmother’s sermon!

Only behind the confines of a pulpit in front of his unsuspecting flock could Driscoll get away with such shenanigans.  In any other venue, Driscoll’s claims would be about as credible as Sylvia Brown on the Montel Williams Show.          

There is no shortage of criticism of Driscoll from his own conservative, evangelical community.  One site accuses him embracing “New Calvinism, which itself appears to be a postmodern form of Calvinism embracing both Reformation theology and the spurious spirituality of Counter Reformation Roman Catholicism”[6]  Please, say it isn’t so.   Well known apologist Frank Turek skewers Driscoll in an open letter for, among other things comparing cessationists (like him) to the deism of the likes of Thomas Jefferson.  Those are fighting words.

I doubt Mark Driscoll could prove any of his claims, and I doubt he would even try.  I’m sure the privacy of the “victims” or some other disclaimer would serve as cover for his rouse.  What I find most interesting is not that people think Driscoll is nothing more than a charlatan, because they don’t.  In fact most of Driscoll’s critics are not the skeptics. From what I can tell, the skeptics don’t care.  Driscoll’s critics are his own fellow Christians who object to his antics on theological grounds.  Yet don’t his critics see the ridiculousness of their own ways? 

Driscoll can know the sins of one’s past? Ridiculous!  That God is up there somewhere keeping tabs?  Totally believable.  Driscoll hears Jesus telling him things?  What a heretic! That Paul heard Jesus on the road to Damascus?  Of course!  Driscoll has visions of crimes being committed like Superman? Nah!  That Jesus will come back flying in the sky like Superman to kick ass?  That’s going to happen!

I’ve always found it interesting that many believer believe in the supernatural when it is either in the very distant past or it is promised in the far off future.  But when confronted with the supernatural in the present the events are either explained away as theological aberrations or exposed as blatant frauds (al la Benny Hinn).    

---

[1] Mark Driscoll. “Why I left the Emerging Church” Criswell Theological Review. N.S. Spring 2006, p. 87-93. http://bobfranquiz.typepad.com/bobfranquizcom/files/32_apastoralperspectiveontheemergentchurchdriscoll.PDF

[2] Mark Driscoll." Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. 16 August, 2011. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Driscoll

[3] http://defendingcontending.com/2009/04/17/john-macarthur-on-mark-driscoll-part-2/

[4] ibid

[5] John MacArthur. “The Rape of Solomon’s Song, Part 1”. http://defendingcontending.com/2009/04/17/john-macarthur-on-mark-driscoll-part-2/

[6] http://apprising.org/2011/08/09/mark-driscoll-has-personal-revelations-from-jesus/

My Story Part 1: The Early Years

How did I come to have the faith that I eventually rejected? In short, it came from my mother.

Shortly after my mother and father married my mother began attending a local Baptist church in the small town in which I was born. This fact, even more than my father’s alcoholism, would be a constant point of tension in my youth. My father's entire extended family where I grew up were of the Catholic persuasion, my grandparents being very devout. Most of the town was Catholic (including nearly all of my school classmates) and I was even baptized as an infant at one of the local Catholic parishes.

Nevertheless as she took me to church every Sunday I quickly adopted the faith of my mother and the Second Baptist Church on Herman Avenue. I learned bible stories, sang songs, memorized bible verses by singing them, sang in the children’s choir, went to vacation bible school during the summer and even went to extra religious education during the school year.

When it came to doctrine and salvation Second Baptist spread the old time gospel. Ecumenicalism was not “in” at the time. You better have Jesus as your savior or hell was where you were headed when you died. Witnessing or “sharing my faith” took on a sense of urgency especially for me since most of my family, being Catholic, was headed straight for an eternity of eternal constant torment. Every time an extended family member passed away (and I have a lot of extended family members) I could not help but experience a brief moment of horror as I imagined how they must feel, thinking moments before they died that they would at least have some relief from the pains of this world only to wake up to a fiery torment.

I would have to say that the belief in hell was the first seed of doubt to be planted in my young brain. For my father who had no religious persuasion (as far as I could tell) he found the idea of hell particularly awful. “How could you believe in a God who would send someone to hell who never heard about your religion?” he would ask me. I had no answer except that my father’s life was so wrecked by alcoholism and “sin” that I had a hard time believing I could glean any meaningful metaphysical insights from him. Nevertheless I could not help but be disturbed at the thought—when I did think about it—that people that I loved, that loved me, cared for me, bought me birthday presents and came to my baseball games were on their way to an eternity of punishment. I believed it was true, because the Bible said so, but in so believing I had also planted the first seed of doubt about my faith.

Why Closet Apostasy?

A friend who recently decided to reexamine his Christian faith has inspired me to go ahead and post on this site.  As someone who spent the better part of one (1) year reexamining my own faith I can testify that the exercise does not come without a cost.  For me I spent hours reading, listening to debates and podcasts, thinking, and reading some more all at the expense of sleep, time with my family, and even my job performance. 

                At the end of my journey I finally admitted to myself that I did not believe in the existence of any god.  Furthermore, the more I reflected I came to understand that I probably hadn’t believed in a god for quite some time even though I went through the motions of living as if I did.  Most importantly I came to realize that non-belief in the existence of a god is beyond my control.   I opened my mind to evidence, used my own reasoning to the best of my ability and let the proverbial chips fall where they may.  I have been asked more than once how I can say that there is no god when no one can know such a thing with certainty.   I would never a priori rule out the possibility of the existence of some yet-to-be defined god, but the beliefs that I once held of the Omni-God of fundamentalist Christianity are gone forever.  Old things have passed away. Behold, all things have become new.

                So what do I mean by the blog title “Closet Apostasy”?  According to Dictionary.com, an apostate is one who experiences “a total desertion of or departure from one's religion, principles, party, cause, etc…”  For me as a de-converted Evangelical my previous life’s meaning was mapped out in the grand scheme of the Almighty Creator:  I was a lost wretched sinner, yet I was redeemed from sin and hell through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, chosen by God for the purpose of exemplifying His glory and “winning others to Christ”.  My faith was to be bold, unashamed, out in the open. I am an apostate because I no longer hold that view of life.  I am “in the closet” because I no longer feel the need to evangelize or to convince others that I have all the answers.  Unlike the New Atheists who have launched a frontal assault on religious belief, my unbelief is quiet.

                My reasons for a quiet expression of unbelief are both practical and self-preserving.  On the practical side, I do live in the “Bible Belt”.  Belief and the communal church life that comes with it are as ingrained in the culture and fried chicken and football.  The common introduction of “Hi, my name is…what’s yours? is almost always followed up with “So where do you go to church?”  Having an answer is the social equivalent of the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval and not having one might leaves the un-churched respondent with an invisible Scarlet “A” (for atheist) embroidered across their proverbial chest.  Given that setting, is there really any reason to provoke arguments or invite scorn and contempt, however unwarranted?  

                The second reason is purely self-preserving; the preservation of my family.  While my wife and I began our life as two bible-believing, born-again Christians, we are currently on different paths when it comes to our faith.  My wife has not joined me on my journey of unbelief, and she may never.  She certainly did not sign up for an atheist husband but she and I both love each other and value our family (three children and one on the way).  My wife has been gracious enough to allow me to go on this journey with her full support and love (although she would obviously prefer I was still a believer) so it would be disrespectful of me to embarrass her by calling attention to my views.  

                That being said, because my former faith gave birth to so many of my friends and acquaintances as time goes on more people will engage me in topics of faith and I will be forced either give a testimony or live a lie.  I am a bad liar, so I will have to bear witness to the fact of my newly-found unbelief.  This blog is intended for that purpose.

                My hopes and intentions for this blog is to answer the many, common questions that I have been asked when I confess my non-belief (How can you not believe in God?  If there’s no God, how did we get here? What about what the bible says? What about those entire bible prophesies that have already come true? Aren’t you afraid of going to hell? You were never a real Christian because if you were, you would still be one….) and delve a little deeper into some of the philosophical questions of life now that veil of belief has been lifted and allowed the light of reason to shine.  In that sense, it’s as if I have been born again.