Fundamentalism and a primitive god

Most individuals that have kept up with the current trend of “new” atheism are quite familiar with the names Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett, and Christopher Hitchens et al. Now, while I vigorously disagree with much—mostly on the philosophical side—that these individuals have published, I do, occasionally, find myself agreeing with a few of their insights. And one of these insights that I believe illuminates a hint of truth is Richard Dawkins’ famous jab at the God of the Old Testament in The God Delusion:

The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.

Ouch. Now, while I wouldn’t agree with Dawkins that this is the only, or even the dominant, portrait of God painted by the Old Testament, I would agree that this is a version of God that is peppered throughout the Bible. Moreover, this barbaric rendering of God is not restricted to purely moral acts; it reaches to the over-all cultural viewpoint that the ancients had of the divine. The Bible (though, admittedly, mostly the Old Testament) many times paints a picture of God that one finds difficult not to describe as primitive:

We’re told that God had a garden that he used to walk through. That in that garden he planted a tree that literally and intrinsically contained the knowledge of good and evil. That he built a firmament (that is, a solid clear dome) above the earth. That he punished all of humanity for the sins of one couple. That he physically wrestled with a human being. That he was not competent enough to exercise his will for humanity and, therefore, drowned all life he had created to start his divine plan all over again. That he ordered the massacre of hundreds of men, women, children and animals. That he fought a fire-breathing sea dragon with multiple heads. Etc etc.

Now, it seems quite plausible to attribute such predications of God to the primitiveness of the Israelites. All the above descriptions make sense as promulgations of a society surrounded by barbaric ancient Near Eastern cultures. These are the cultures that believed that every single event was caused by its own respective god; the cultures that believed that their own gods could be manifest in inanimate objects (i.e. idols); the cultures that believed that the gods could be manipulated and deceived by the actions and rituals of humans; the cultures that believed that the gods were just like humans except to a higher degree of being; and that’s why they could make mistakes, or feel anger or regret, and even eat.  Thus stated, Why would we expect the Israelites not to mimic and, least of all, be greatly affected by the cultures that influenced them and gave rise to them in the first place!

This is nothing to shy away from. The Israelites wrote Hebrew scripture, and the Israelites were, by all means and even by the Bible’s own standards, far short of sophisticated. Through the Israelites worldview we see the evolution, growth, and the first-fruits of the formulation of orthodox theology; but it should be observed that this process was very long and did not always progress in a straight line. The picture of God that we hold today did not emerge overnight through some sort of once-and-for-all revelation. Rather, it is a picture that took hundreds of years to formulate. A picture that was argued about; a picture that was questioned; a picture that was constantly revised and expanded; a picture that was immature and only progressed towards maturity; a picture that was stunted by our own imaginative shortcomings as human beings; and a picture that, many times, mirrored our own faults rather than Gods.

This picture of God evolved throughout the Bible. It illuminates our struggle as finite human beings to grasp and understand the divine. I maintain that it reflects our own shortcomings, and not God’s.

Now, by the time one closes the Bible they are left with an impression of God that is infinitely greater than the above primitive renderings. One is left with a God that is spirit; a God that is love itself; a God that is forgiving and desires that all reconcile themselves to Him; a God that does not admonish evil and wrong-doing; a God who is a loving father who welcomes all people into His kingdom no matter their past, present, race, ethnicity, or gender. In short: it is the God Jesus served and revealed to the disciples. Now, this is not to say that the Old Testament does not contain many of the aforementioned impressions as well. It surely does. But while these impressions are only scattered in the Old Testament, they are fully culminated in the later writings of scripture—though I would argue that even the later writings of scripture still contain pictures of God that we should regard as adolescent.

So, why should one get so upset at Dawkins’ remark above? His comment is not wholly true, but it does speak with some forceful insight. Why should this trouble us as Christians? Why can we not recognize and take possession of the primitive cultures and beliefs whereby our current picture of God had its genesis? The reason is this: fundamentalist formulations of scripture. To one that holds to the inerrant and one-dimensional truth of scripture, admitting any sort of erroneous pictures of God into the Bible is the worst sin one could commit. For the fundamentalist, all portraits of God in the Bible are valid portraits, and any seemingly contradictory or primitive renderings of God are attributable only to our own finite shortcomings—and yet they hold that these shortcomings could not have influenced the very same human beings who formed such portraits of God in scripture! Their Bible is a static bible; a bible with no room for growth of the understanding of the divine. For them, the God that walks in a garden and drowns the whole human race is the same God that is spirit and admonishes us not to repay evil for evil.

Has any idea ever seemed so contrary to reason? Is it any wonder that Christians by the dozens are losing the faith they grew up with? Is it any wonder why atheists mock and ridicule Christians? These fundamentalists Christians are my brothers and sisters, yes; but, they are making a mockery of the faith that I take so seriously. They have turned the beauty of Christianity into a primitive superstitious Bronze Age fable; and I maintain that as long as their adolescent picture of God is paraded around, Christianity will continue to lose adherents.

The portrait of God that we as humans expound to ourselves will never capture the true majesty of God. Even our modern conception of God must be considered primitive compared to His actual being. Our ideas of God have evolved and will continue to evolve. To turn to any one portrait of God and regard that as the final insight into God’s nature is, simply, spiritual immaturity and intellectual laziness. The Bible might be God’s word, but it is not, by all means, his final word.

Does our theology condemn us?

The diversity of theology

My theological convictions are, needless to say, not identical to what is seen as orthodox—whatever that is—by many Christians. I don’t hold to the doctrine of inerrancy, to a historical Adam and Eve, or to the penal substitutionary theory of the atonement—these are many of the theological underpinnings that fundamentalists cling to. Yet, with thousands of Christian denominations it becomes almost impossible to identify exactly which group of theological doctrines constitutes orthodoxy; more than that, it becomes difficult to associate the “saved” with “whichever denomination holds to doctrines X,Y,Z.” Subsequently, the question immediately is posed regarding whether or not it is even really reasonable to infer that salvation is contingent upon right believing—again, whatever that means.

 I maintain that such a position—that salvation depends on correct belief—goes against our deepest moral and rational intuitions.  Perhaps an illustration can help illuminate. Take two individuals, call them Christian A and Christian B. Christian A holds to theological doctrines a through h, while Christian B holds to doctrines a through g. Let it be the case that both Christians are equally devoted and sincere regarding their faith in, and love of, God. Now let it also be the case that doctrines a through h happen to constitute the only group of beliefs that make up an orthodox theology. Therefore, it is obvious that Christian B lacks only one valid theological belief, namely, belief in doctrine h.

 Now, is it reasonable to conclude that since Christian B lacks belief in one doctrine, he is any less “saved” than Christian A? Is it this singular doctrine that opens a chasm between the saved and the condemned? Surely such an inference seems to border absurdity. Is someone less of a Christian simply because he happens to lack belief in, for instance, the validity of prayer to the saints? I would think not.

 Yet, one might ask, what if the doctrine that one rejects is a “pivotal” doctrine such as the divinity of Jesus, or the Trinity? Surely these doctrines have much greater significance regarding whether or not one is a real Christian. However, I fail to see that this is the case. Again, remember that there are thousands of Christian denominations, and some regard the aforementioned doctrines as crucial and some do not. So, how are we to determine that these doctrines are in fact the ones needed for salvation?

 I maintain that right belief—if we are even capable of such a thing—is of much less importance than our actions and disposition towards God Himself. The minister Leslie D. Weatherhead makes my point for me:

If Christ can—and he does—hold in utter loyalty the hearts of St. Francis and John Knox, of Calvin and St. Theresa, of General Booth and Pope John, of Billy Graham and Albert Schweitzer, who hold irreconcilably different beliefs about him, how can belief and uniformity of belief be vitally important?

Indeed.

Another illustration that drives this point home for me is my own father. Growing up I held a specific set of beliefs regarding the nature of my father. I now know that much of what I knew about my father only constituted a small portion of his essence. There were many aspects of my father’s life and character—both good and bad—that I simply had no idea existed. Moreover, there were even beliefs that I harbored regarding my dad that were completely off the mark. But, did I love my dad? Yes, with all my heart. Did he love me? Yes, with all of his. Did we exhibit the epitome of a loving relationship? Yes, I believe we did. Then exactly how important were my beliefs about my dad compared to my love for my dad? Surely, there is no comparison.

 Now don’t get me wrong. Of course some degree of correct belief was required for me to have the relationship with my dad that I had. I had to, at the very least, believe that he existed; I had to believe he was my father; I had to believe that he loved me etc. But, most of the beliefs about my dad that did not fit in these aforementioned beliefs were merely peripheral.

 For the Bible tells me so

However, the thought strikes me that perhaps the above speculations and appeal to rational intuitions will not satisfy the fundamentalist evangelical. So, it is always helpful to bring out their holy grail of certainty, i.e. the Bible, to drive a point home.

 Let us begin with a well-known Old Testament character: Abraham. Abraham is a classic biblical example of someone who believed in and obeyed God no matter the seeming impossibility or illogical nature of His commands. In Genesis, during a conversation between God and Abraham, it states, “And he believed in the Lord, and He accounted it to him for righteousness” (Genesis 15:6). That is, Abraham was considered righteous and upright by God due to his deep belief. Moreover, we read from Paul continually in Romans 4 how Abraham was made righteous and justified by his unwavering faith in God.

 But, if we think deeply about this story we realize something profound: Abraham, no doubt, did not have right belief—if by right belief we mean belief in orthodox doctrines. Abraham had no knowledge of Jesus, the Trinity, the atonement, the Eucharist etc. His whole foundation of belief was simply grounded in the hope and love of the Father. Being a man devoted to serving and following God, he was justified by his faith. Yet, to reiterate, his faith was not grounded in orthodox belief.

 Let us jump ahead to the New Testament, and take a look at different aspects of the gospels.

 

First, let it be articulated that Jesus did not require correct theological belief to be a prerequisite for discipleship.  Notice that Jesus didn’t quiz Peter or John or Andrew on theology before he called them to follow him. Neither did he, when preaching the Kingdom of God or healing the sick, ever make many allusions (if any) to orthodox theology. Moreover, how could he have even done such a thing when his followers and disciples were Galilean Jews?

 Second, let us take of glimpse of the so-called parable of the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25:31-46). This is a parable regarding the judging of the nations. In the parable the son of man separates the sheep, to his right, from the goats, to his left. The sheep symbolize the righteous and the goats symbolize the unrighteous. Yet, the reason for the division—that is, what determines one’s status as a sheep or a goat—is based on one’s actions towards bringing about the Kingdom of God—feeding the hungry, clothing the naked etc. Now notice that what condemns and saves an individual has nothing whatsoever to do with right belief! In fact, those that are saved claim that when they committed their actions, that furthered the Kingdom of God, they had no idea that they were doing such things on Jesus’ behalf.

 Third, it must be remembered that most of the doctrines that many Christians consider to be orthodox were not even promulgated as official doctrine until centuries after Christ lived. The doctrine of the incarnation wasn’t even properly expounded until 451 A.D. at the Council of Chalcedon. Similarly, the doctrine of the Trinity wasn’t settled until the end of the 4^th century under the head of numerous church fathers. Therefore, it must go without saying that the early church lacked any belief in the aforementioned doctrines—as affirmed by the councils—and, thus, could not have based their evangelization on orthodox theology, since orthodox theology would not even obtain completion until hundreds of years later. Are we to claim that the early church, which was populated by probably the most holy and most devoted Christians, was not saved because they had not the right beliefs yet in place? Surely to affirm such a line of reasoning is ridiculous.

 

Come together

Mind the Beatles reference and let us conclude here. It seems obvious that one’s salvation is not crucially dependent on believing the right things. The converse of this is that surely maintaining heretical theological beliefs—though I doubt these can be determined—is not reason enough to condemn one. Unfortunately many churches fail to understand this; they are constantly stuck in the “us vs. them” mentality. Hundreds of churches feel that if one is not a part of their denomination, then one is not saved.

 However, in light of the above argumentation it seems that such bickering is useless, invalid, and only hinders the umbrella of Christianity from carrying out what it needs to: bringing the Kingdom of God down to earth by demonstrating the love of God and Christ, and helping individuals to make their way back to the God they have forsaken. I maintain that such an endeavor is so much more crucial than making sure our beliefs fit neatly into the preconceived box we’ve made for them.