2010/04/30

ark rediscovered

The latest group to have "found" Noah's ark evidently has radiocarbon dating evidence. (h/t Matt's facebook status; otherwise I'd have missed this story altogether)

Well now, where to begin? If this were 'true' it would be about the biggest story in archaeology since ... well, I struggle to think of a bigger one. The claimed ark is at an altitude of 4000m, which implies one serious flood.

There are lots of reasons to suppose that the story in Genesis is more allegorical than historical. I don't doubt that quite a few communities in the ancient near east encountered catastrophic floods, and indeed that at least one saw a family saved with some livestock in a boat or ship of some kind. The details presented in Genesis seem to present a whole bigger story than that - and, to be honest, I can't say I think could sustain the 'obvious' interpretation.

But if there were evidence of a boat which floated to 4000m, well, I'd need to reconsider a lot of things. All the commentators seem to say that the evidence won't withstand scrutiny: some think that the "evangelists" (hmm. good research there, eh?) have simply fabricated the evidence, others think that an ancient theme-park attraction has been (re?)discovered. Perhaps other explanations will come to light: I'm rather taken with the skepticism from the young-earth creationists (because radiocarbon dating is clearly bogus because it gives some dates older than 6000 years).

The other rather great quote comes from 'Paul Zimansky, an archaeologist specializing in the Middle East at Stony Brook University in New York State.'
"I don't know of any expedition that ever went looking for the ark and didn't find it,"

So my hunch is that I'm not going to have to reconsider my understanding of the early chapters of Genesis. But the jury's out, I suppose.

2010/04/14

leadership lessons from baseball

I did tell myself I'd stop re-posting blogs from Mark Driscoll, with incredulous comments added.

But then I looked at his latest series: leadership lessons from baseball, and I had to share. It's scary; it's alarming; I'm starting to wonder if we should see it as cultish. Except that I've never heard of a cult modelling itself after baseball (yawn!) - save for the cult of baseball itself. Lesson 2 is particularly encouraging, as is the under-defined notion of "underperforming" in the later lessons. Though there is more to leadership than this, I can't help thinking that the first things I'd look for are abundances of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. But those do not seem to be the characteristics of interest. Indeed, one forms the impression that Jesus wouldn't fare well as an elder at Mars Hill.

You see, I have this love-hate thing going on with Driscoll's writing. Most of it, frankly, revolts me. But - like so much else - it contains nuggets of value, some of great value. The observation in the latest of these leadership lessons that Christians would rather soldier on with something that's not working - inventing a theology of suffering to cover it - rather than address the problem itself (my paraphrase), is a good one. That's a perspective we hear too rarely, and I'm glad he brought it up. But the idea that we must sack underperforming and overpaid pastors (who? I've never met such a person), not so much.

2010/04/10

shroud enigma

The Shroud of Turin goes on display today, apparently. This thing fascinates me: not in an obsessive way, not because I'm particularly bothered about whether it really is the burial cloth of Jesus of Nazareth, but because of its enduring enigma.

Countless people have analysed the thing, and written peer-reviewed scientific journals about it. TV documentaries about it crop up regularly. And now two million people are expected to go and see it in the six weeks it is on show. The present Wikipedia text about it remarks, with some justification
The Shroud of Turin is one of, if not the most, studied artifacts in human history.

and yet, its exact nature remains something of a mystery.

You may recall that radiocarbon dating undertaken in 1988 gave, with a high degree of confidence, a date for the cloth of between 1260 and 1390. That has since been disputed, on a couple of grounds. Numerous theories have been put forward for how the image - the 'face of Christ' - got onto the cloth: maybe it was a photographic process, maybe it arose from clever image transfer techniques, maybe it is a radiation burn. Nobody is entirely sure.

Doesn't that strike you as curious? In our present age when science leads and directs much of our society - and take the place of a religion, for some - we have an over-studied object whose nature (never mind whose provenance) is uncertain. Although various explanations have been backed by the creation of facismile shrouds, none really matches the characteristics of the original, it seems - at least, not to the satisfaction of all concerned. And it appears to be unique in history: if it was created by an artist or 'forger', whatever technique was developed to make it does not appear to have been re-used in any comparitive object. Maybe it was the work of a genius like Da Vinci, etched onto the oldest cloth he could lay his hands upon. But if so, he took the technique to the grave with him.

Of course, the approach of the shroud's custodians does not particularly help the analysis: no doubt, with more willing curators, a fresh carbon dating round could have been completed by now. More invasive analysis could surely tell us what the image is made of, and perhaps how it got there. Or maybe not: they are cautious, but have allowed all kinds of analysis to be done. Some have argued that recent restoration work will have destroyed a huge amount of potential evidence in any case.

So we have this rather remarkable artifact, which exists in plain sight and yet whose true nature is most uncertain. It presents a riddle that may never be solved, despite the power of all we know today and the attentions of hundreds of scholars. As a counter-example for the omnipotence of the scientific method, it takes some beating. For that it deserves veneration, no matter what it 'really' is.

2010/04/06

go the extra mile

The Tories got into a minor squabble over the weekend, after one of their senior MPs was reported as having been recorded saying that people who offer Bed and Breakfast in their own homes (a common enough small business; the bottom end of the travel accommodation market) 'should "have the right" to turn away homosexual couples.'

It's rather a storm in a tea-cup (because the same man voted in favour of the legislation which criminalizes precisely this behaviour), but it raises a few questions worth revisiting. The ostensible reason for wanting to turn away such guests is a religious - specifically Christian - one.

Firstly, it seems profoundly illiberal to legislate about who private individuals may or may not do business with - especially when we are talking of (paying) guests in their own homes. And yet we would now look ascance at someone who declined to take particular guests due to the colour of their skin, or to being in a 'mixed marriage'. It matters not whether you or I would make a moral equivalency between racial discrimination and issues around gay rights: society has chosen to do so. Race relations laws have helped to shift and shape public opinion over the last generation or so. We can discuss elsewhere how successful they have been in that; but even so, there is little doubt that significant change has happenened. Moreover, if we argue that religious conscience should trump such societal consensus, then we have little grounds to argue that sometimes in Islam women receive less than the equal treatment that our society has come to expect. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander: Christians can't appeal to the notion of human rights only when it appeals (human rights may be a bogus simplistic notion, but that's a separate discussion).

But suppose you do take the view that a gay couple sharing a bed under your roof is morally reprehensible - and you feel persecuted because the law says that if you want to rent rooms to anyone, you have to welcome those guests like any others. What then?

Well, didn't Jesus say something about good behaviour in the case where an unpleasant burden is placed upon you by the law? Isn't the way of love to bit your lip, suck it up, and take the guests? Which behaviour is most likely to win people over? Shutting the door on them, or lavishing love on them - in a household run along the lines which meet the standards you believe are the right ones? Of course, this runs a risk: you might discover that the people in question are human. You might discover that they are ordinary, frail, complex, warm-blooded people who need love. But if you believe in the transforming power of your faith, maybe they are the ones who will be persuaded. Here's the crucible of ideas and idologies: not in the forum or the academy, but in the B&B lounge.

That sounds a bit gushing, I know. It took me a while to get to that conclusion, but it seems robust. If the gospel is about anything, it's about bucking the trend, the tit-for-tat behaviour of the world. About giving without holding back, not about asking for special rights, or equality for ourselves. Isn't that the way to win the world?

2010/04/02

review: The Hopeful Skeptic

The Hopeful Skeptic: Revisiting Christianity from the Outside, Nick Fiedler

I haven't posted a book review in a long while. I have rather a big pile of half-read books waiting to be finished. The Hopeful Skeptic had to go to the top of the pile, for a few reasons, and is not a difficult read, so I actually have managed to get the end.

Oh dear, that's not exactly a ringing endorsement. Let's try again. Nick has written a light, chatty book which is thought-provoking and engaging. It's certainly not your average IVP book, as he discusses in the first few pages. The style draws you in, and it's full of tales, anecdotes, and analogies.

I first encountered Nick when I was beginning to explore the whole brave new world of emerging church - or whatever you want to call it - and found The Nick and Josh Podcast. Subsequently, as he was beginning his year-plus round-the-world adventure I drank Guinness with him in a bar in Sydney.

Packing up his appartment in advance of that trip provides the metaphor to hang the book on. What to retain, and what to leave behind? For someone wondering about all the Christian things he's held onto in the past, the same question arises. For Nick, the approach is summed up in his phrase hopeful skeptic.

He toys with the word agnostic, but decides it comes with too much baggage. I'd have to agree. So he prefers skeptic. But it seems to me that skepticism gets a bit of a bad press: perhaps it is too readily confused with cynicism. But even if not, Christians are often encouraged to be highly credulous, to ask questions in convenient places, to feel inadequate if they are not quite as confident as their peers. But a healthy skepticism is part of the path to wisdom; the foundation of scientific endeavour (perhaps even the whole academic venture). If you don't believe me, try convincing a room full of scientists that you have a new theory, a new approach better than their existing one: it quickly gets ugly.

But Fiedler's approach isn't purely skeptical - it is most definitely hopeful. In fact, the whole narrative is so suffused with hope that you can easily forget the subtitle about "revisiting Christianity from the outside", for these don't seem like the sentiments of someone outside the Christian community, just somone who has grown tired of the baggage that comes along with the term "Christian". The skepticisim is almost apologetic at times: much of the book seems addressed to an imagined individual who is fully immersed in the Evangelical world, and needs broadened horizons - but without wanting to give offence.

So some of the chapters address familiar topics of Christian formation: prayer, scripture, community, views of Jesus. But Mr Web 2.0 has to give us a chapter on "technianity", looking at how our emerging technologies can radically re-shape what we mean by church and faith.

Is it surprising and earth-shattering? That probably depends on where you're starting from. For me, no, I don't think there's too much which messed up my world view. Is it full of seminal theology? Er, no. Is it destructive or divisive? I wouldn't say so: I'm sure that's not the intention, anyway, and I can't really see it falling that way. Is it an honest and entertaining traveller's tale, a snapshot of what early 21st Century post-evangelicalism might look like? Absolutely.