Guest post: Reza Aslan schools us in the “myths” about Jesus

September 30, 2013 • 10:18 am

Reader Ben Goren called my attention to a strange article by Reza Aslan in last week’s Washington Post, “Five myths about Jesus.” Aslan, as you probably know, has made a cottage industry of reassuring the faithful that a) Islam isn’t such a bad religion after all, and that b) Jesus was in many ways a regular guy, a “man of his time.” (I’m clearly in the wrong business, as there seems to be an insatiable and lucrative market for this kind of stuff.)

In his latest book, Zealot, Aslan rewrites the Jesus story based, as far as I can see, completely on a revisitionist interpretation of scripture—that is, on how he interprets what really happened to Jesus (he assumes, incontrovertibly, that Jesus was a historical person). There isn’t, of course, any extra-biblical information about Jesus that has any credibility, so I see Aslan’s tale as simply cherry-picked exegesis. As you’ll see in the piece below, Aslan’s “myths” about Jesus include mundane historical matters, but completely neglect important Christian issues like the virgin birth, the Resurrection, and Jesus’s miracles.

Ben was so exercised about the Post piece that, rather than simply borrow his ideas and anger about it, I asked him to write a guest post. Here it is:

Aslan’s Awkward Accommodations

by Ben Goren

A few years ago, The Squidly One observed that squatting in between those on the side of reason and evidence and those worshiping superstition and myth is not a better place. It just means you’re “halfway to crazy town”. In his latest attempt at accommodating the posterior osculatory desires of the faithful, Reza Aslan offers himself up as the perfect example of what PZ was referring to.

In the piece, Aslan offers five fragments of factoids about Jesus that, he argues, are myths. In brief, he claims that these bits of received wisdom about Jesus are wrong, and tells us why:

  1. Jesus was born in Bethlehem. There are no early mentions of the Nativity; conflicting prophecies led to conflicting birth narratives; and Luke latched onto the Census of Quirinius to have Joseph return with his family to Bethlehem. Aslan doesn’t offer an opinion as to the actual birthplace.
  2. Jesus was an only child. Dismissing the Catholic insistence on Mary’s perpetual virginity, Aslan uses the titles of “Brother” and “Sister” applied to a number of people in ancient Christian texts to claim that Jesus had at least four brothers and an unknown number of sisters.
  3. Jesus had 12 disciples. Jesus had many disciples. The Twelve were the Apostles.
  4. Jesus had a trial before Pontius Pilate. Pilate was too important to bother with a nobody like Jesus.
  5. Jesus was buried in a tomb. Petty criminals were never buried in tombs.

Yet, despite taking these huge swings at foundational and cherished elements of Jesus’s life, Aslan’s tone throughout the entire piece is one of a respectful teacher looking to further understanding of an important subject. The third-person pronouns referring to Jesus are all capitalized, and the fact and significance of His life are taken as givens.

Unfortunately for Aslan, this means that he’s surely pissed off both the Christians and the rationalists, as the thousands of responses to his piece would indicate.

As a professional trumpeter, I’ve performed in and sat through countless Christmas and Easter services at denominations across the spectrum. And I can’t recall a single one that didn’t make a big deal — often, a very big deal, with song and dance numbers and communal recitations — about both the Nativity in Bethlehem (O! Little Town!) at Christmas and the Empty Tomb (He Is Ris’n!) at Easter. But for Aslan, the Nativity was something that Luke just made up to tick off a checkbox on a list of prophecies to fulfill.

And, far worse for the Christians, he suggests that Jesus’s corpse would have been left on the Cross until its bones had been picked clean by dogs and crows…and the remains then tossed onto a trash heap. This, I believe, would constitute one of the most insulting blasphemies one could possibly direct at a Christian. While he’s certainly correct that that’s not an unreasonable fate for a rebel commando, Aslan completely ignores the central claim of Christianity that Jesus was something different, something more. That same glossing over of vital tenets of Christianity can be seen in his dismissal of the Trial and of the question of Jesus’s siblings.

At the same time that Aslan takes potshots at Christian dogma for its mythical origins, he also manages to concoct quite a few of his own whoppers. At the top of the list is his claim that Jesus was essentially a nobody, a rabble-rousing schmuck not worthy of any special attention. In reality, there are no ancient sources — not a single one — that describe Jesus as someone who could be easily overlooked. Though none could agree on who or what, exactly, he was, all were unanimous in their contention that he was the most important figure of the period, if not of all time. Yes, of course, there were scenes where, for dramatic effect, it took a paragraph or three for somebody to recognize Jesus or the significance of his actions or words; but, by the end of the story Jesus was always doing something mind-blowing.

The fundamental problem for Christianity, of course, is that this larger-than-life Jesus is all that we have in scripture or the few later documents that mention Jesus—but not a single contemporary or near-contemporary source mentions even a hint of anyone who could be remotely mistaken for Jesus or of any events even vaguely recognizable as the ones he precipitated. It’s as if The War of the Worlds actually happened as Mr. Wells documented it in 1898…and yet a complete review of the archives of The Times for the period 1890 – 1910 reveals no mention of strange happenings in Woking or anywhere else.

Even worse for the Christians is the fact that similar stories were legion, but involving other figures. Justin Martyr, possibly the earliest surviving Christian apologist, devoted much of his efforts at converting Pagans to describing, in excruciating detail, how dozens of popular and well-known Pagan demigods did the exact same things as Jesus. Indeed, by the time you subtract everything from Jesus’s biography that, according to Martyr, had a Pagan precedent, there literally isn’t anything left of Jesus at all.

And that’s where Aslan does violence to rationality. For the fact is that these four myths (and one dictionary nitpick) about Jesus are but the tip of the Myth Iceberg.

The real myth about Jesus,and the only one that matters, is that he’s anything more than than a myth.

And that’s where Aslan’s accommodationism has landed him. In staking out “neutral” ground between Christians and rationalists, he’s invented for himself yet another entirely new fantasy, one which isn’t merely inconsistent with the tenets of Christian belief, but which actively contradicts the only “evidence” which would support his position if weren’t filled with horror stories about zombies with a fetish for having their intestines fondled.

JAC note: This morning there were over 5000 comments on Aslan’s piece! I haven’t looked at them, but perhaps a diligent reader can give us a precis. Nothing sells like controversy.

Apologists (including David Cameron) try their best to avoid pinning religious massacres on Islam

September 30, 2013 • 6:20 am

Even though England is more secular than the U.S., British Prime Ministers seem even keener than American Presidents to coddle religion—especially Islam—and to ascribe  the malevolence of extreme Islamists to anything but religion.  After last week’s horrific massacre in the Nairobi shopping mall, P.M. David Cameron said this:

‘These appalling terrorist attacks that take place where the perpetrators claim they do it in the name of a religion – they don’t.  They do it in the name of terror, violence and extremism and their warped view of the world. They don’t represent Islam or Muslims in Britain or anywhere else in the world.’

But what kind of extremism? Whence their “warped view of the world”? And if they’re doing something in the name of Islam, then they’re certainly representing at least their own conception of Islam. How disingenuous can you get? Really, “they don’t represent Muslims anywhere in the world”?

Over at The Spectator, Douglas Murray rightly takes Cameron to task for this in a piece called “No, Mr. Cameron. The Kenyan massacre is all about Islamism.” He also notes that, in a Guardian piece, Sir (!) Simon Jenkins blamed the violence not on extreme Islamist belief, but on—wait for it—shopping malls:

‘The modern urban obsession with celebrity buildings and high-profile events offers too many publicity-rich targets. A World Trade Centre, a Mumbai hotel, a Boston marathon, a Nairobi shopping mall are all enticing to extremists. Defending them is near impossible. Better at least not to create them. A shopping mall not only wipes out shopping streets, it makes a perfect terrorist fortress, near impossible to assault.’

That’s right: we shouldn’t build shopping malls because they just inspire terrorism. That’s like blaming rape victims for wearing revealing clothes.

Murray tells the unpalatable truth:

I don’t think any sensible person would argue that the perpetrators represent all Muslims. But it seems strange to say that a separation of people — and massacre of them — based solely on their religious identity can be said to have nothing to do with religion.

. . .All of which suggests, for the thousandth time, that everybody is trying to avoid the point.

I can see why politicians like David Cameron want to make sure that nobody blames Muslims as a whole for attacks like this. But telling the lie that such attacks have nothing whatsoever to do with Islam does no good at all. It lets the extremists off the hook and infuriates everybody else who end up wondering why the Prime Minister cannot see what everybody else can see.

As I have said often in response to this ‘noble lie’, the only way that Islam is going to get through its current problems is if followers of the religion realise that they have to actively confront the problem. Each provision of an opt-out and excuse delays the day when the religion properly confronts itself and makes the claims of the jihadis a wholly impermissible — instead of plausible and sometimes permissible — response to the religion in whose name they act.

If a group of armed, militant Christians attacked an abortion clinic, would people blame it on the clinics? Would they go this far out of their way to claim that it had nothing to do with the Christian belief that fetuses have souls? Well, maybe, but I don’t think the excuses would be so widespread.

While religion is largely off limits, some religions are more off limits than others. And we accomplish nothing by ignoring that. In fact, it’s counterproductive to ignore it, because coddling the kind of beliefs that spawn terrorism simply allows their continued existence.

In the meantime, you’ve probably heard that yesterday and the day before, Islamic militants, also from the “Boko Haram” organization, killed 40 students at the Yobe State College of Agriculture in Nigeria. As the New York Times reports:

In its war against the Nigerian state, Boko Haram has singled out government institutions, especially schools, for attack. One of its tenets is that Western-style education, not based on the Koran, in conventional schools is sinful and un-Islamic; the group has burned numerous schools in Maiduguri, the largest city in the region, and in early July it attacked a government secondary school in the town of Mamudo, killing 42 people, mostly students.

Yet a civil servant named Ibrahim rushes again to excuse Islam:

Ibrahim condemned the attackers. “Nobody can explain what they want,” he said. “All of the students that died today are Muslims. No single Christian was killed. This is not a religious war. These people that perpetrated this call themselves Muslims. But this is against the teachings of Islam.”

One can certainly interpret some of the teachings of Islam as militant, even from the Qur’an.  But the “teachings of Islam” also include those teachings that derive from Islam, including Boko Haram’s view that Western-style education violates their faith. Not a religious war? Is the animus between Sunnis and Shiites, which has killed hundreds of thousands, not a religious war because both groups are “Muslims”?

This type of waffling is disingenuous. We can try to stamp out Boko Haram, but until its ideology disappears, and its members stop indoctrinating their children in hatred, the match that kindles attacks like these will remain lit.

A reminder of what this kind of religious belief produces:

30nigeria-articleLarge
Rescue workers and family members attempted to identify the shrouded bodies of students killed overnight in an attack at an agricultural college in Gujba, Nigeria. (AP via the New York Times)

h/t: Ant

“Any Time At All”

September 30, 2013 • 3:58 am

My taste in Beatles music runs towards the later (but not the last) albums. This one, from “A Hard Day’s Night” (1964) is one of my favorites among the “earlier” Beatles. It’s hard to realize that only two years elapsed between this album and “Revolver.”

“Any Time At All” has the drive of early Beatles songs, but, to me, shows a musical inventiveness beyond the song that, said Lennon, was its model—”It Won’t Be Long.”

This song ranks #95 on Rolling Stones’ list of the hundred greatest Beatles songs.

“Any Time at All” shows how much the Beatles learned from their hero Buddy Holly. The song has all the Holly trademarks — the jangling guitars, the openhearted generosity of the lyric, the urgent emotion in the voices. It’s a pledge of 24-hour devotion to a girl, with Lennon speaking his mind in a brash way (“Call me tonight, and I’ll come to you”) that would have made Holly proud — even though Lennon himself wasn’t thrilled with the results. (He dismissed the song as my “effort at [re]writing ‘It Won’t Be Long.'”)

It’s mostly a Lennon composition, but the middle break is by McCartney.

Well, listen to “It Won’t Be Long,” which Rolling Stone ranks far higher (#53), and see if you think it’s better than the above.  IWBL was a damn good song, and R.S. touts it for its “muscular aggression. But that’s something that’s present in many early Beatles songs; what’s new is the lovely transition between the third and fourth lines of each stanza, which is better for being a bit rushed, e.g.:

If you need somebody to love,
Just look into my eyes,
I’ll be there to make you feel right. // 
If you’re feeling sorry and sad,
I’d really sympathize. Don’t you be sad, just call me tonight.

Wikipedia gives a bit more on its composition; listen for the piano/guitar synchrony between McCartney and Harrison in the middle eight:

Incomplete when first brought into Abbey Road Studios on Tuesday 2 June 1964, Paul McCartney suggested an idea for the middle eight section based solely on chords, which was recorded with the intention of adding lyrics later. But by the time it was needed to be mixed, the middle eight was still without words and that is how it appears on the LP. These few notes were influential in sections of “Xanadu”, “I Say a Little Prayer” and “Tonight I’m Yours”. McCartney sings the second “Anytime at all” in each chorus because Lennon couldn’t reach the notes. “Any Time at All” reprises a George Martin trick from “A Hard Day’s Night” by using a piano solo echoed lightly note-for-note on guitar by George Harrison.

By the way, the Beatles also rank, properly, as #1 in Rolling Stone‘s “Greatest [Rock] Artists of all time. Read the wonderful mini-essay on them by Elvis Costello (each artist or group is evaluated by another rocker), which includes this bit:

They were pretty much the first group to mess with the aural perspective of their recordings and have it be more than just a gimmick. Before the Beatles, you had guys in lab coats doing recording experiments in the Fifties, but you didn’t have rockers deliberately putting things out of balance, like a quiet vocal in front of a loud track on “Strawberry Fields Forever.” You can’t exaggerate the license that this gave to everyone from Motown to Jimi Hendrix.

My absolute favorite albums are Rubber Soul and Revolver. When you picked up Revolver, you knew it was something different. Heck, they are wearing sunglasses indoors in the picture on the back of the cover and not even looking at the camera … and the music was so strange and yet so vivid. If I had to pick a favorite song from those albums, it would be “And Your Bird Can Sing” … no, “Girl” … no, “For No One” … and so on, and so on….

Indeed. Or “Nowhere Man,” or “In My Life,” or “Eleanor Rigby,” or “I Want to Tell You,” or “Here, There, and Everywhere,” or . . .

An Indian meal with friends and readers

September 29, 2013 • 10:49 am

UPDATE:  Chak sent me a captioned photo that he took when I wasn’t around. In Indian homes, as in Japanese ones, you remove your shoes at the door. Indeed, I do this in my own crib to keep it clean.  I was wearing my usual boots (this is a spiffy new pair of black calf boots by J. B. Hill), and here they are by the door:

Boots 1

 

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Last night reader Chak Dantuluri invited some readers and some of his science-friendly acquaintances to his house in Naperville (a Chicago suburb) to enjoy a home-cooked Indian meal and conversation about this and that (read: science, religion, atheism, free will, and so on).  Also on hand were Hemant Mehta (aka “The Friendly Atheist’).

Chak’s wife, Kavita, outdid herself with the cooking, spending hours and hours preparing a stupendous feast with about two dozen courses. If you’ve ever cooked Indian food, you’ll know how time-consuming that is. It was a magnificent feed, and she didn’t stint on the spices, which I love.

Since about half the attendees were theists (of the Hindu variety), we had some interesting chats. I learned a lot about Hindu theism, which seems far more philosophical than, say, Christian theism.  I don’t often get to have a back-and-forth with Hindu theists in this country!

The get-together was also a benefit for Doctors Without Borders, and those attending came up with $500 for that worthy organization.

But I mustn’t leave out the food. Below are the appetizers, including vada (the savory “donuts” to the left, pakhora (vegetable fritters, lower right), idli (lentil mini-pancakes, above the pakhoras), a wonderful spicy dish of peanuts whose name I don’t know, a chicken dish made by Chak (upper left), and one of my favorite Indian foods, a homemade coconut chutney to accompany the idlis and vadas (the bowl of yellowish stuff halfway up the right).

You’ll also recognize The Friendly Atheist at eleven o’clock. You may know that Hemant recently got married, and his new spouse is onhis right.  Kavita is to his left.

Appetizers

And here’s the main spread, with South Indian veggie dishes to the left, and nonveggie dishes (including lamb pulao) to the right. There are chappatis (indian bread) at lower right as well. (Click to enlarge.)

Main dishes

Early this morning Kavita made me one of the India’s classic foods: dosas (Indian “crepes” made from lentil and rice flour), cooked in a special pan and served with coconut chutney. They’re a ubiquitous snack, especially in southern India. I had three.  Here she is preparing my breakfast. Keeping the dosas mist and oiled is crucial:

image 269

And one of my dosas.  The chutney is essential: you break off pieces of the crispy and savory pancake and slather them with the chutney.

Breakfast
Thanks to Kavita and Chak for a splendid evening.  You can’t beat good conversation and good noms!

“Selection pressures” are metaphors. So are the “laws of physics.”

September 29, 2013 • 8:10 am

I mentioned offhand the other day that the notion of “selection pressures” in evolutionary biology is a metaphor, not dissimilar to the metaphor of a “selfish gene,” but Matthew convinced me that this idea was more profound than I thought (LOL!), so I’ll write a bit more about it.

A quick refresher: the other day Andrew Brown wrote one of his usual muddled columns in the Guardian, claiming, as he often does, that Richard Dawkins is a malign influence on evolutionary biology.  His argument was the usual blather that gene aren’t really “selfish,” and that this metaphor has led to deep confusion.  In the comments after his piece, Brown repeats this claim in response to a criticism (h/t to moleatthecounter for finding this):

Picture 1If you can’t read the above because the print’s too small, Brown says that “. . . Dawkins got confused by his own title. This confusion was intermittent but it’s absurd to pretend it didn’t happen.” (He also give props to Mary Midgley, who deeply misunderstood the book, attacked Dawkins in a quite vitriolic way, and got a strong response from Richard. Although the original papers don’t seem to be on the Internet, you can read about that controversy here. [Note: reader pacopicopedira has found Dawkins’s reply online; he/she gives the link in the comments but you can read it here.] If you think that Richard’s responses to Midgley were “disgusting”, try reading what she wrote in the first place.)

At any rate, Brown, fulminating about a metaphor that supposedly misled not only Dawkins’s readers, but Dawkins himself, said the following in his Guardian piece:

In particular, the ascription of agency to genes led him and his followers into endless confusion. The point is not merely whether genes can be selfish or generous, but whether they can be said to have any activity at all in the world. This is a point which he freely concedes and then forgets – his manner of dealing with most criticism. If a gene is defined, as he defines it, as a piece of chromosomal material subject to the pressures of selection, it is the pressures of selection which are the active and changing parts of the picture, and the DNA sequence is entirely passive.

Sadly, here Brown is hoist with his own petard. What he doesn’t realize is that there is no such thing as “the pressures of selection”—it is a metaphor, a descriptor of what happens when different genes (i.e. “alleles”, or forms of a single type of gene) leave different number of copies.   That differential reproduction of genes is what constitutes natural selection,, and it is a process of gene sorting.

There are no “pressures” of selection imposed on the organism from the outside. What happens, as everyone knows who learns introductory evolution, is that, in a given environment, some genes leave more copies than others, usually because they increase the reproductive output of their possessor.  Take, for example, a population of brown bears that somehow find themselves in a white-colored environment, like the Arctic.  There are genes affecting coat color, and imagine that a given gene comes in several forms, one of which makes the bear lighter in color than do the alternative forms.  This being a population of bears, there will be variation among their genes due to mutation. Those bears carrying the “light” forms of genes might do better than their browner confrères because they’re more camouflaged in the snow, and thus better at sneaking up on seals and killing them.  “Light-gene” bears will be better fed, and thus have better survival and (crucially) more offspring. (If the color change affects survival but not reproductive output, no natural selection ensues.)  In the next generation, the proportion of color genes having the light form will be higher than before. And the average color of the bear population will be a bit lighter.

If this continues over many generations, and other mutations occur that yield even lighter coats, natural selection will move the bears from brown to white. Presumably this is what happened in polar bears, whose ancestors were probably brown. And it’s happened in many Arctic animals whose ancestors were brown but evolved white color (either pemanently or seasonally) via natural selection. Such animals include the Arctic fox, the Arctic hare, the ptarmigan, the snowy owl, the harp seal, and so on (see a list here).

arctic-animals-main
What “selection” pressures can do: white Arctic mammals.

Note that the environment isn’t exerting any “pressure” here. It is simply providing a milieu in which one gene has an advantage over another. The environment cannot see the genes and their constituent DNA. We speak of “selective pressure to become light-colored” as simple shorthand for the process I’ve described above.

Now I suppose people like Brown could say, “But that’s confusing! Saying that the environment exerts selective pressures could mislead people into thinking that the environment is in someway animate, and can exert a force on animals to mold them one way or another. It could lead to vitalism!”  But it’s not really confusing. In fact, it’s so not confusing that Brown used the metaphor himself, without realizing it.  When I teach my students introductory evolution, I’m always careful to note that “selection pressures” is a shorthand term for something a bit more complicated.

But if Brown can easily recognize this metaphor, so can everybody else, and the notion of “selection pressures” has not been deeply confusing. Likewise, “selfish gene” is not confusing if you have sufficient neurons to see that Richard what Dawkins meant: the differential sorting of genes that is natural selection involves genes behaving as if they were selfish: trying to outcompete their mates and get into the next generation of bodies. Apparently Midgley had such a problem.  But Dawkins certainly did not, despite what Brown claims.

Metaphors are useful if as they enlighten rather than confuse. I claim that both “selection pressures” and “selfish genes” are enlightening, and, judging by the sales of Dawkins’s book, so do most readers.

Let me add, since I’m writing about physics for my book now (kudos to Sean Carroll, my Official Physics Tutor™), that the term “laws of physics” is also a metaphor, or a shorthand descriptor.  There are no “laws of physics,” but just regularities in the universe that appear to be ubiquitously “followed”.  People like Brown might argue that the term “laws” implies “lawgiver” and hence God—a confusing misconception unwittingly promulgated by atheistic physicists.  But again, this metaphor is not confusing—except, perhaps, to theists who want to see those laws having been decreed by God.

As one reader pointed out yesterday, metaphors, often involving the use of anthropomorphizing, are ubiquitous in all of science, not just evolutionary biology. “Selfish gene” is just one of these.  I would argue that anyone who can’t understand, after a minute’s explanation, that selfish genes really aren’t conscious and malevolent entities, is lacking some crucial rationality.  Likewise, it’s not hard to see how “selfish genes” can lead to cooperative behavior.  That, too, is easily explained, and has been done many times by Dawkins and others. Nevertheless, people like Midgley and many theologians argue that the notion of selfish genes simply can’t explain unselfish behavior.  They’re ignorant—often willfully so.

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Blessing of the animals at the University of Chicago

September 29, 2013 • 4:35 am

I gather that the Blessing of the Animals is a tradition that started with the Catholic Church (presumably inspired by St. Francis of Assisi) but now is ubiquitous. In fact, today the animals are going to be blessed at the Rockefeller Chapel (a nondenominational outfit) at the University of Chicago. Here’s an announcement of the event that I found hilarious.  Whoever put this together had a sense of humor.

Picture 2

Note that the haloed cat is “Modo”,  a genuine moggie who is listed as chapel staff at the organization’s website:

Picture 1Now I hate to be the skunk in the woodpile here, but really, although this is lighthearted and stuff, what is it supposed to convey? If it’s a joke, then it’s a joke at the expense of religion.  But I think that, to some extent, it’s not a joke. Why would people schlep their cats, dogs, and hamsters to the church where, I understand preachers often lay hands on them for the blessing.  Is there some implication that blessed animals will have a better fate? And how is that supposed to work, given that, at least for Catholics, animals don’t have souls and can’t go to heaven. Or do liberal churches now think that we’ll be reunited with Mittens in the hereafter?

I doubt I’ll go to the blessing, because my delight at seeing lots of cats would be tempered by the ludicrousness of the whole idea (plus the sight of d*gs getting blessed!).  And if you think that I’m being too curmudgeonly, consider that there is also a Blessing of the Backpacks at the University of Chicago. Backpacks, of course, don’t have souls. Perhaps this is simply a way of wishing the students “good luck,” but then why drag in God and the trappings of religion to do that? If they’re not serious about such blessings having an effect, why confer them? Does it not make a mockery of the whole ritual of “blessing”?

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