Category: philosophy

  • Tension in Tolerence: A Review of Brian McLaren’s “A Generous Orthodoxy” – Part II

    The main problem with McLaren’s approach is that it fails to provide a concrete vision or set of beliefs that believers can attach themselves to. This “generous orthodoxy” turns into a “personal denomination” that is determined by individual preferences. McLaren does a great job of grabbing the good stuff from each of his denominational or thematic flavours of Christianity, while failing to address the shortcomings or contradictions that are bound to present themselves in such a model.

    For example, McLaren offers competing stances on childhood baptism. In chapter 13, McLaren discusses adult baptism as a form of religious expression from the Anabaptist movement. He downplays the importance of the “how and when” of baptism in favour of the more important “why and whether you live the meaning of your baptism” (McLaren, 228). In this section, McLaren provides an encouraging place for Anabaptist beliefs to reside. And yet, in chapter 15, McLaren provides support for a catholic belief that subscribes to a sacramental faith and a respect for tradition that clearly, from a catholic perspective, supports infant baptism. McLaren clearly articulates the Anabaptist position pertaining to personal commitment, yet reinforcement of the catholic sacraments and traditions (without supporting each sacrament by name) does little to quell the uneasy cohabitation that this particular issue is bound to introduce.

    Several other examples could be gleaned from the text, but for what point? It is sufficient to agree that Christianity has become segmented because of the sharp denominational lines that have resulted from the numerous protests that have brought us to this “Protestant soup” that we find ourselves swimming in today.

    A second, and equally troubling problem for McLaren, is how to reconcile the postmodern bent that asserts, almost ironically, that absolute knowledge is unattainable. Early in the book, McLaren argues that “certainty and knowledge” are problematic in a postmodern worldview (McLaren, 28) and thus, one cannot be absolutely certain that they know right from wrong. This epistemological puzzle forces one to wonder how McLaren can be so sure that his solution is the right one. While McLaren does overstate his “completely unqualified” (McLaren, 38) status in the realm of theology, this does not excuse him from responsibility for his claims. At the very least, McLaren has provided the reader with a contradictory argument, first suggesting that we can know nothing with certainty and then offering a way forward that expects fellowship. Shouldn’t McLaren’s postmodern epistemological argument invalidate his suggestions entirely? How can his claims be discerned under this cloud of skepticism?

    Thirdly, how would McLaren discern the conflicts and contradictions that present themselves in his “cherry-picking” of denominational best fruits. How can one be certain that McLaren was accurate in choosing certain denominational traits over others? And further, doesn’t this collection of denominational best practices contradict McLaren’s earlier suggestion to marginalize denominational distinctions (McLaren, 36)? Why does McLaren focus so much on those denominational best practices if his ultimate goal is to flatten the Christian experience into something that can be palatable to everyone?

    Up next: “Responses to these objections”

  • Tension in Tolerence: A Review of Brian McLaren’s “A Generous Orthodoxy” – Part I

    In this four part series, I’ll be providing a book review of Brian D. McLaren’s “A Generous Orthodoxy“. Today, I’ll provide an introduction and overview of the book. Next, I’ll provide some objections. From there, I’ll respond to some of those objections. And finally, I’ll wrap up with some personal reflection and a summary. So, stick around and be sure to provide comments and feedback!

    In the book “A Generous Orthodoxy”, Brian McLaren presents an approach to Christianity that is both positively refreshing and troublingly devoid of a solid doctrinal foundation. While McLaren can be applauded for his inclusive approach to Christian practice, this also appears to be his biggest challenge. McLaren’s writing highlights the tension between dogmatism and the freedom and variety of Christian expression. Ultimately, the book is an inspiration to those that appreciate the loving inclusiveness celebrated and championed by Jesus.

    McLaren has written a brilliant treatise that speaks to those who value the spiritual gifts of Christianity but who frown upon the doctrinal divisions that have split the church. McLaren speaks to the postmodern objection to certainty and knowledge by inviting a spectrum of religious worship in its many forms, perspectives and expressions of faith. McLaren argues that Christian orthodoxy, defined as “right thinking and opinion about the gospel” (McLaren, 35), is to be humble, charitable, courageous and diligent (McLaren, 34). The goal of this “generous” inclusiveness is to affirm “the importance of orthodox doctrine” (McLaren, 36), while placing doctrinal distinctives “in their marginal place.” (McLaren, 36) This “generous orthodoxy” not only encourages cross-denominational Christian discussion, but it also extends the olive branch to other faiths, allowing for interfaith dialogue and collaboration.

    McLaren’s Christian vision centres itself on the understanding of Jesus as revealed in the Gospels. This view minimizes the doctrinal and theological extensions that have been generated through centuries of theological discourse and gospel-filtering. This vision demands that the practitioner appreciate the truth claims in competing religious experiences. McLaren, speaking of the “Seven Jesuses he has known”, asks:

    Why not celebrate them all? Already, many people are using terms like post-Protestant, post-denominational, post-liberal, and post-conservative to express a desire to move beyond the polarization and sectarianism that have too often characterized Christians of the past (as we’ll discuss in Chapters 6 and 7). Up until recent decades, each tribe felt it had to uphold one image of Jesus and undermine some or all of the others. What if, instead, we saw these various emphases as partial projections that together can create a hologram: a richer, multidimensional vision of Jesus? (McLaren, 74)

    Instead of focusing on the differences as divisive details, McLaren suggests that we embrace the differences, wrapping ourselves in a quilt of diverse and multifaceted perspectives. Ultimately, according to McLaren, we should “enjoy the feast of generous orthodoxy” (McLaren, 74) that such an all-encompassing perspective generates.

    Up next: “Objections to McLaren’s Generous Orthodoxy”

  • Historical Jesus Part 5: Bibliography

  • Historical Jesus Part 4: Contradictions and Improbabilities

    Finally, Onfray argues that the New Testament is full of contradictions and improbabilities. Onfray calls into question the differing details pertaining to the wooden tablet, or titulus, that was attached to Jesus at the crucifixion. Onfray provides two potential areas of conflict here. First is the differing understanding of how the titulus was attached: was it nailed to the wood of the cross above Christ’s head, as per the description in John or was it hung around his neck, as per Luke’s description? And second, what was the actual text that was written on the tablet? All four gospels record slightly different wording for the charge that was affixed to the front of the titulus. Onfray argues that contradictions like these are numerous in the New Testament, which calls into question the validity of the New Testament as a whole.

    Further, Onfray asserts several improbabilities as well. Onfray is adamant that Jesus was never crucified. He argues, “at the time Jews were not crucified but stoned to death. […] The fact is that Rome could have cared less about this business of messiahs and prophecy. Crucifixion implied a challenge to the imperial power, which the crucified man never explicitly posed.” [Onfray, In Defense of Atheism, 128.]

    Onfray is correct to highlight some inconsistencies between different Gospel accounts of the same story. However, this in itself does not make the stories invalid. If we look at the stories, there is a great deal of similarity. In fact, The Gospel of Peter [Ehrman, The New Testament and Other Early Christian Writings, 124-126.], which was not included in the final canon, affirms many of the points made in the passion story, out of which this current debate arises. Robert Funk of The Jesus Seminar suggests that many of the specific elements included in the passion narrative were in fact fictitious, included merely to “reinvent the scene.” John Crossan agrees, suggesting that the passion event itself may have been historically accurate, but Crossan stays close to The Jesus Seminar opinion that the details were a combination of fulfillment of scripture and narrative dressing to paint the scene. [Funk, The Acts of Jesus, 156.]

    Gerd Theissen and Annette Merz suggest that the inscription mentioned in Luke 23:38 may have been a historical fact. They detail numerous sources that mention the placement of placards, or titulus, above crucified individuals detailing the reasons for their punishment. Theissen and Merz do mention though that this custom was not performed “so frequently that it could have been invented by any narrator as a natural element in an execution” [Theissen and Merz, The Historical Jesus, 458.]. Theissen and Merz further argue that since Luke’s Gospel focused on the Jewish refusal to accept Jesus as the Messiah, there was no motivation to invent the political title used in Luke 23:38 to further Luke’s argument against the Jewish elders. Theissen and Merz’ earlier proof of Roman labeling of the accusations, combined with a lack of motivation to make up this fact make it entirely likely that this may have been more than random filler to help make the story seem more real.

    Ben Witherington III also defends the historical accuracy of the placard.[Witherington, New Testament History, 158.] Witherington argues the same case that Theissen and Merz present, offering that the similarities between the three Gospel accounts, combined with the understanding that other Roman crucifixions of the time used tabula, are sufficient to defend the historical credibility of the details presented in the Gospel texts. Witherington concludes that “All this material contains the telltale signs that a historian looks for to discern whether a story has historical plausibility. The story of Jesus’ demise has many such features.” [Witherington, New Testament History, 159.]

    Additionally, using Powell’s “Criteria of Authenticity” [Powell, Jesus As A Figure In History, 46-50.], we can easily see that multiple attestation is present, the content is memorable in the repetitious title of “King of the Jews”, there is appropriate language and environment, an adequate explanation is provided for this particular detail and the story coheres with the surrounding historical understanding of similar circumstances. Thus, there is sufficient evidence to support the claim that the titulus did in fact exist, even though the specifics of the item are under scrutiny. These arguments easily counter Onfray’s opinion that contradictory stories should be discarded as false.

    One final thought on Onfray’s argument that Jesus was never crucified: Onfray’s argument is perplexing as Onfray contradicts himself. On page 118, Onfray himself provides examples of Jewish prophets and other rebels who were beheaded and crucified. Thus, not only do Crossan, The Jesus Seminar, Theissen and Merz, and others agree that the crucifixion happened, but Onfray himself also suggested that crucifixion wasn’t that uncommon. Yet, he argued that Jesus was not crucified. This contradiction further weakens Onfray’s writing.

    Onfray’s attempts to discredit Jesus are disappointing. He provides no new scholarship nor does he cite any existing scholarship to support his claims. His arguments are weak, they lack and in some cases misinterpret available historical evidence and his arguments sometimes contain contradictions of their own. Thus, Onfray fails to deliver a coherent, valuable and honest discussion pertaining to the validity of the historical Jesus.

    Up next: “Bibliography

  • Historical Jesus Part 3: Politics of the New Testament Canon

    Next, Onfray questions the validity of the process that went into creating what we know as the New Testament canon. Onfray asks, “Why were some texts left out.” He responds with the following: “Who put together the corpus and decided on the canon? The church, its councils, and its synods toward the end of the fourth century of our era.” [Onfray, In Defense of Atheism, 127.]

    Onfray’s understanding of canon formation is poorly understood. The New Testament as we know it today was fairly complete by the end of the second century, which is one hundred years prior to the life of Constantine, who played a key role in organizing the first church councils and synods. And, the final works that were included in the New Testament were readily understood, in the first and second century, to be written by someone who could have been alive during the time of Jesus. Thus, the final canon was considered to be as accurate as possible.

    The formal canonization of this already accepted package of writing came at the Council of Hippo in Africa in 393. The Synod of Cartage in 397 listed the New Testament books in the order that ours are in today. And, the final canon was reaffirmed in 419 at the Council of Carthage. The Gospels and Paul’s writings were never disputed. Some books were debated, but they were not debated based on political motivations. They were debated based on their Catholicity and value to the truth of the Church. This conflicts with Onfray’s version of events considerably. Why doubt Onfray’s version? With two councils and a synod separately documenting and validating the same list that had been used for quite some time, it makes it quite difficult to ignore this evidence. Councils and synods were convened for special purposes and their findings were documented quite meticulously. It would be quite difficult to forget these results, especially when considered against one another and against the multiple sources that exist to attest each individual council or synod. So, the overwhelming evidence dismisses Onfray’s claim in this regard.

    Up next: “Contradictions and Improbabilities