God Loves the Smell of Burning Flesh: Human Sacrifice in the Bible

World famous Christian apologist William Lane Craig is known for his hilariously inept defense of the savage excesses of his God, who apparently isn’t able to present a defense himself.

For the Canaanite genocide, Craig’s punch line is that every Canaanite adult deserved death because they sacrificed children to their god, all the children hacked to pieces were actually getting a ticket to heaven, and we must reserve our sympathy for the Israelite soldiers forced to perform this butchery. (Craig’s insulting argument is eviscerated here.)

Let’s move from genocide to another area of biblical violence, human sacrifice.

Abraham and Isaac

The Abraham and Isaac story in Genesis 22 is often given to show God’s rejection of human sacrifice and, as it is in the Bible today, that may well have been the purpose. But, like a cheerful fairy tale that comes from a darker original, the Isaac story may not initially have had its happy ending.

The documentary hypothesis (discussed more here) argues that the first five books of the Bible are a patchwork of four ancient sources with differing agendas. Read the Abraham and Isaac chapter closely to see how it might have originally read (my source: The Bible with Sources Revealed by Richard Elliott Friedman, p. 65).

  • Verses 11–15 have an angel stop Abraham and declare the whole thing a test, but where did the angel come from? God had no problem talking directly to Abraham to demand this inhuman sacrifice, and then an angel pops up from nowhere? That section looks like an addition.
  • Verses 16–17 say, “Because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you.” Done what? If Isaac was not withheld, apparently he did get sacrificed.
  • Abraham and Isaac set out together in verse 6, but verse 19 concludes the story with, “Then Abraham returned to his servants.” Alone.

There’s very little condemnation of child sacrifice in a story that rewards a man for his willingness to perform it.

But doesn’t the Bible reject human sacrifice?

Just in case anyone was unclear that the Old Testament comes from a post-Bronze Age Mesopotamian culture, it tells us 37 times that God loves the pleasing aroma of burning flesh. And God has a big appetite: “The first offspring of every womb belongs to me, including all the firstborn males of your livestock.” (Exodus 34:19). But God is reasonable. One verse later, he clarifies: “Redeem all your firstborn sons”—that is, sacrifice an animal instead.

We find a similar demand in Deuteronomy 18:10, “Let no one be found among you who sacrifices their son or daughter in the fire.”

Human sacrifice in the Bible

The Bible acknowledges that sacrificing humans is powerful mojo, because that’s how the Moabite god Chemosh beat Israel’s god Yahweh (2 Kings 3:27). The combined forces of Israel, Judah, and Edom were about to defeat Moab when the Moabite king sacrificed his son to Chemosh. The result: “There was an outburst of divine anger against Israel, so they broke off the attack and returned to their homeland.” (More here.)

Though the Bible talks a good story as it rejects human sacrifice, it’s a sock puppet, and you can make the Bible say just about whatever you want. If you think God can’t say precisely the opposite of what he commanded before, then you underestimate an omnipotent god! Take a look:

Consecrate to me every firstborn male. The first offspring of every womb among the Israelites belongs to me, whether human or animal. (Exodus 13:2)

But nothing that a person owns and devotes to the Lord—whether a human being or an animal or family land—may be sold or redeemed; everything so devoted is most holy to the Lord. No person devoted to destruction may be ransomed; they are to be put to death. (Leviticus 27:28–9)

As if bragging to his drinking buddies, God laughs about it afterwards. To teach the stiff-necked Israelites who’s boss, God said,

So I gave them other statutes that were not good and laws through which they could not live; I defiled them through their gifts—the sacrifice of every firstborn—that I might fill them with horror so they would know that I am Jehovah (Ezekiel 20:25–6).

Now what was William Lane Craig saying about sacrificing children to gods? Looks like there was a lot of that going around, and not just among the bad guys.

Concluded with examples in the New Testament in part 2.

Men rarely (if ever)
manage to dream up a god superior to themselves. 

Most gods have the manners and morals of a spoiled child.
— Robert A. Heinlein

 

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 7/29/14.)

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Guest Post: Omni This, Omni That! So What?

Dave Gardner is a long time reader of this blog. He is a retired public school math teacher, and he and I were in a writing group that helped polish my two novels, Cross Examined and A Modern Christmas Carol.

For the moment, let’s assume that God exists, the iconic Judeo-Christian God. He is an omniscient, omnibenevolent, omnipresent, and omnipotent supernatural being who can do anything. Think about that for a moment: God can do anything. With the snap of his fingers (or whatever ritual he used) God created the heavens and the earth and everything in, on, above, and below it. He knows the past, present, and future of the universe, the galaxy, the planet, and every living thing. But this causes a problem.

If that’s the case, if God can do anything—anything!—then there’s nothing remarkable about anything he does. He didn’t have to practice 10,000 hours to achieve mastery of his talents. He didn’t have to sacrifice anything to achieve his level of mastery. God. Can. Simply. Do. Anything.

It reminds me of a short story I read many years ago. A baseball team has been dwelling in the standings basement for years and the manager is desperate to find a player who can help produce a winning season, and he finds him. This player has the amazing ability to hit a home run every time he comes to bat! Every time. The manager is ecstatic, the player’s teammates are elated, the fans go wild. Every game is SRO. Game after game he hits home runs and the team soars to the top of the standings.

Then something happens. The fans begin to tire of the sameness, the predictability of his at bats and the endless winning. They begin to lose interest. Hitting home runs is what the player does and it’s no longer remarkable. As a matter of fact, he’s become tedious and boring.

It’s much the same thing with God and all his omnis: if he can do anything, then his works inspire no awe, no wonder, no amazement. He simply hits home run after home run, and nothing he does is remarkable.

So, what is remarkable? That science can give us theories and explanations on the evolution of the universe, galaxies, planets, and life itself, all without reference to a supernatural being, and it does so clearly and scientifically. That takes enormous effort, brilliance, and resources, and it’s not at all inevitable.

And that, indeed, is remarkable!

If Jesus had been an actual historical figure we have a thorny paradox.
Either this Jesus was a remarkable individual
who said and did a host of amazing, revolutionary things
,
but no one outside his fringe cult noticed for over a century.
Or he didn’t

and yet shortly after his death, tiny communities of worshipers
that cannot agree about the most basic facts of his life
spring up, scattered all across the empire.
The truth is inescapable:
there simply could never have been
a historical Jesus.
— David Fitzgerald, author of Nailed

 

C.S. Lewis: Put Up or Shut Up

The influence of C. S. Lewis on modern Christians in the West is hard to overestimate. Few stories of apologists coming to faith don’t include a mention of Lewis’s Mere Christianity.

Lewis was a student of Norse, Greek, and Irish mythology since his youth. He knew mythology and, he felt, knew reality by contrast. Here’s his critique of the overall feel of Christianity as he compares it to the two possibilities, myth and reality.

Reality, in fact, is usually something you could not have guessed. That is one of the reasons I believe Christianity. It is a religion you could not have guessed. If it offered us just the kind of universe we had always expected, I should feel we were making it up. But, in fact, it is not the sort of thing anyone would have made up. It has just that queer twist about it that real things have. So let us leave behind all these boys’ philosophies—these over simple answers. The problem is not simple and the answer is not going to be simple either.

Simple as a test for religion

Lewis is making several points here, one that simplicity isn’t what we should expect to find in Christianity. Lewis says earlier in the book, “It is no good asking for a simple religion. After all, real things are not simple.”

While it’s true that natural things are often messy and complicated, a supernatural God could answer, clearly and unambiguously, the big issues Christians fight over in a single page.

Christianity has much to be confused about. Look at the long list of Christian heresies about the nature of Jesus, the role of Mary, and so on. These have been resolved by mandate and tradition, not by objective evidence. Look at modern debates over morality (same-sex marriage, abortion, euthanasia). Look at the second coming, the Trinity, justification for God’s abominable actions in the Old Testament, and other murky issues. Look at the 45,000 denominations of Christianity that exist today. When Christianity can get its act together, get back to me.

No, complex is just what made-up religions look like. Religions, especially the old ones, are usually quite complicated. Simple is a reasonable thing to ask for.

Queer? That can be tested, too.

Let’s return to the point that I think is more interesting. Lewis said, “[Christianity] has just that queer twist about it that real things have.” It’s an instinctive reaction, so let’s label this argument Lewis’s Appeal to the Gut. Christianity just feels like reality rather than myth.

Let’s pursue this. Lewis says that myth feels one way, and reality feels another way. All right, Clive—formalize and quantify this “queer twist.” Give us an algorithm for reliably telling myth and reality apart in a document. Does it have to do with passive vs. active voice? Is it dynamic vs. passive action? Male vs. female characters? A direct storyline vs. one with tangents? Word choice or subject matter or archaic language or sentence length? Turn this feeling into something that can be tested.

Challenge 1. Let’s take this powerful tool on the road. Test your algorithm on biographies, hagiographies (a biography written to flatter), legend, mythology, and so on. See if it accurately separates Myth and Reality.

Challenge 2. See how it does with religious writings. Does it put the Bible (and only the Bible) into the Reality bin?

Challenge 3. Now use your algorithm to invent a supernatural story that has the traits of Reality. This is a supernatural story that you know is false (because you made it up), and yet you are compelled by your genre argument to declare it true (because that’s how you know Christianity is true). You’re obliged to believe this story as strongly as Christianity by your own argument.

But if you reject this invented story, you’ll need to reject your test as well. Maybe “if the genre feels right, then the story is believable” isn’t so useful after all.

Lewis has company

Early church father Tertullian (died ca. 240) said about the resurrection, “it is wholly believable because it is absurd.” The New Testament says, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18).

That’s right—it is both foolish and absurd, but that’s not something to celebrate.

That’s not how the adults do it

Instead of the feel test, may I suggest that we follow the lead of the experts? We already have a scholarly discipline devoted to deciding what happened in the past. It’s called History. It uses principles shaped over centuries that do a good job of synthesizing what actually happened from what is invariably insufficient or contradictory evidence. Spoiler: history is no friend of the supernatural. The consensus view of historians scrubs the supernatural from the record.

The resurrection, the Trinity, hell—there’s plenty of nonsense within Christian dogma that has just that queer twist about it that legend has. Only by inverting Lewis’s argument does it make sense.

For more rebuttals to nonsense from C. S. Lewis, check out these posts:

When we remove all the unevidenced beliefs
[from supernatural thinking]
we are left with naturalism.
And when we remove all the unevidenced beliefs

from naturalism,
we are left with naturalism.
— commenter Greg G.

Image via KMW2700, CC license

25 Reasons We Don’t Live in a World with a God (Part 8)

Do we live in a world with a god? It doesn’t look like it (part 1 of this series here).

Let’s continue our survey with the next clue that we live in a godless world.

15. Because there’s a book called The Big Book of Bible Difficulties

The Big Book of Bible Difficulties by Geisler and Howe is indeed big—it’s 624 pages long. Another in this category is The Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties by Gleason Archer. Another is Hard Sayings of the Bible. Another is Alleged Discrepancies of the Bible. These books try to respond to the many contradictions and nonsense in the Bible to assure Christians that their faith is valid.

Why is the Bible so confusing that this category of book exists? (I want to ask why Christians are content to accept that their all-knowing god couldn’t get his story down simply and unambiguously, but that’s a topic for another day.) The dictates of an actual perfect god would be simple and unambiguous. By contrast, the “perfect” Bible is so flexible that it has spawned 45,000 denominations of Christianity.

We can look just at the four gospels’ accounts of the resurrection to see the problem. When was the Last Supper—was it the Passover meal or was it one day earlier? What were the last words of Jesus? Did zombies rise from their graves when Jesus died? Who buried Jesus? How many women were at the tomb? Did Mary Magdalene recognize Jesus? Did the women tell anyone about what they’d seen? Could Jesus’s followers touch him after he rose? The Bible gives multiple answers to each of these.

The accounts in the gospels don’t sound like journalism or history, but since they must be for most Christians, apologists are happy to step in to reshape the facts to be more agreeable.

We can go beyond these books that try to paper over the Bible’s embarrassments. There are huge books on systematic theology (fundamental Christian doctrine), some over 1000 pages long. The web site GotQuestions.org brags that it has answers for half a million questions about Christianity. And the very existence of Christian apologetics itself admits that God isn’t obvious, despite the Bible’s promise otherwise.

16. Because Christianity can’t be derived from first principles

Suppose you asked Christians about their religion but asked repeated “Why?” questions to uncover the foundation of their claims. Why is God in three persons? Why is a rainbow evidence of God? Why did Jesus have to die to give us access to heaven?

Eventually, these questions will wander their way to the same few foundational answers, where the questions stop: Christianity is the way it is because of tradition, because the Bible says so, because of the insights of or divine revelations to a leader, or some other “Just because” kind of answer. None of this is like a scientific experiment where you could duplicate the procedure to verify the results (or prove them wrong). Religious dogma is believed because of inertia, not because of evidence or repeatability. Its claims aren’t objective, and they can’t be derived from reality.

Imagine that a global catastrophe wiped out all traces of religion and science, but a tiny fraction of people remained alive to repopulate the earth and recreate a scientifically advanced society. They would roughly retrace the steps we took to develop modern science and technology. Of course, they would describe things differently and advance in their own way, but they would duplicate the very same laws of motion, gravity, and thermodynamics; the same theories of evolution, relativity, and the Big Bang; and so on.

But would they duplicate the same Christianity, Islam, Scientology, Falun Gong, Jediism, and all the others? Of course not. Religion is what people say it is. It’s disconnected from objective reality. (More on this here.)

As yet another thought experiment, imagine a naive religious seeker, unaware of the specifics of any organized religion, who meditated or observed his way to Christianity or any other religion. This never happens.

The Bible says otherwise:

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood from His workmanship, so that men are without excuse. (Romans 1:20)

But the Bible is wrong. That Christianity is ungrounded by testable events argues that we don’t live in a God World.

Which reason will be next? Will we make it all the way to 25? Stay tuned for the thrilling answers to those questions and more!

Continue to part 9.

Leave each one his touch of folly;
it helps to lighten life’s burden which,
if he could see himself as he is,
might be too heavy to carry.
— John Lancaster Spalding

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Image via Olof Werngren, CC license

What the Cardiff Giant Hoax Teaches Us About Christians

The Burned-Over District was the name given to the western part of New York state. From this region in the early- to mid-1800s came much of the energy for the Second Great Awakening. From here came Mormonism; the Millerites and their descendants, the Adventists; the Fox sisters, key to the Spiritualism movement; the Shakers; and the Oneida utopian community. It was named the Burned-Over District to suggest that it had had so many revivals and religious movements that no fuel remained for any more.

One additional product of this region was the Cardiff Giant, which has a surprising religious connection.

A giant man discovered

In 1869, workmen digging a well in Cardiff, NY, near Syracuse, uncovered what appeared to be a petrified man. It was a giant over ten feet tall. William Newell the landowner charged visitors 25 cents to see the marvel. Two days later, with huge crowds, he doubled the fee. Some religious groups saw the man as archeological proof of the Genesis story of the giant Nephilim—“there were giants in the earth in those days,” as the King James Bible put it (Genesis 6:4).

With interest in the giant still strong, Newell sold the giant to a Syracuse group for the equivalent of half a million dollars today.

The story comes apart

Archeologists soon declared the giant a fake, and George Hull, cousin of the landowner, admitted he was behind the hoax. The giant had been carved from gypsum, stained to simulate age, and then shipped to Cardiff so that Newell could bury it and then, a year later, order the well dug so that workmen could stumble across the find.

Incredibly, even after this admission, the stone giant continued to be a moneymaker, and showman P.T. Barnum offered a fortune to buy it. When the Syracuse syndicate refused to sell, Barnum made a copy, displayed it in his New York City museum, and claimed that his was the real fake, while the Syracuse giant was a fake fake. In response to the idea of people paying to see a fake fake, one of the new owners of the Syracuse giant observed, “I guess there’s a sucker born every minute” (falsely attributed to Barnum).

Barnum’s observation was also penetrating: “The American people love to be humbugged.”

Another humbug

L. Frank Baum was 13 years old and living in a suburb of Syracuse as the Cardiff giant hoax unfolded. He learned of Barnum’s observation and, decades later, merged it into his The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. At the end of that book, Dorothy and her friends discover that the wizard is a humbug but that the citizens of Oz had participated in the deception. Evan Schwartz in Finding Oz: How L. Frank Baum Discovered the Great American Story said:

In telling the story of the real fake and the fake fake, Frank Baum would never forget this powerful lesson: Americans not only don’t mind being fooled, or humbugged, but they desperately want to be taken for a ride—and the greater the number of people who are strung along by a great humbug, the more others want to be in on it, too.

The real story

While cashing in on Americans’ gullibility (or delight at being duped) might have been a motivation, George Hull’s real drive was to prove how easy religious Americans were to fool. Hull was an atheist, and the idea for the hoax came from an argument with a preacher who took the Genesis giant story as history. (Clearly, frustration at Christianity’s hold on Americans dates to long before blogging.)

As with the Cardiff giant, American Christians easily accept remarkable and unsubstantiated religious claims. In a couple of recent posts (here and here), I’ve explored the surprisingly frank admission of how, for Christian apologist William Lane Craig, reason takes a back seat to faith. How can his flock keep following him when he admits that reason isn’t what supports the edifice?

Perhaps Americans’ gullible acceptance of the Cardiff giant hoax gives some insight.

When you wear green spectacles,
why of course everything you see looks green to you.
— the Wizard of Oz,
on why the Emerald City looked green

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(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 7/23/14.)

Image public domain

More Sloppy Thinking from William Lane Craig

In a recent post, I explored William Lane Craig’s unhealthy relationship with facts and evidence. Given his two doctorates and his frequent debates, you’d think that he’d be the champion of reason. Not so.

It is the self-authenticating witness of the Holy Spirit that gives us the fundamental knowledge of Christianity’s truth. Therefore, the only role left for argument and evidence to play is a subsidiary role. (Reasonable Faith, Third Edition, 47)

There’s a lot of that going around. Craig is like Jonathan Wells, a fellow at the Discovery Institute, who earned a doctorate in molecular and cell biology. Wells also sees science as the cabin boy to his agenda: “[The words of my spiritual leader Rev. Sun Myung Moon], my studies, and my prayers convinced me that I should devote my life to destroying Darwinism.”

And what is the “self-authenticating” part of the witness of the Holy Spirit? Craig needs to show his work. This sounds like nothing more than permission to elevate a personal opinion to a dictate of the Holy Spirit.

Is what’s good for the goose good for the gander?

Craig argues that God’s existence is obvious and needn’t be justified. Coming to grips with that remarkable attitude was the topic of my earlier post. Let’s explore further the dark and tangled recesses of the thinking within Craig’s Reasonable Faith.

Craig anticipates the obvious rebuttal. If the Christian is justified in dismissing evidence and argument and instead says the witness of the Holy Spirit is sufficient—indeed, superior—justification for their belief, why can’t the guy from the other religion do the same? Craig observes, “Christian claims to a subjective experience seem to be on a par with similar non-Christian claims.”

It sounds like we see the problem the same way, but here is Craig’s bizarre reply.

How is the fact that other persons [sic] claim to experience a self-authenticating witness of God’s Spirit relevant to my knowing the truth of Christianity via the Spirit’s witness? The existence of an authentic and unique witness of the Spirit does not exclude the existence of false claims to such a witness…. Why should I be robbed of my joy and assurance of salvation simply because someone else falsely pretends, sincerely or insincerely, to the Spirit’s witness? (Reasonable Faith, 49)

Craig once again vomits onto thoughtful discourse. He ignores the problem, assumes that he is right, and then shapes the facts to fit.

Some other guy says that his beliefs are actually correct? No problem—just assume the guy is mistaken and, like magic, Craig’s presupposition of correctness is validated.

Objection 2

The mental masturbation continues. Given that the other guy is wrong, Craig asks why the Christian couldn’t also be wrong.

We’re gently scolded for asking this, because this has already been addressed:

The experience of the Spirit’s witness is self-authenticating for him who really has it.

Once again, Craig wants to start with the fact that the Christian is correct, and shape everything to fit.

The hole in Craig’s approach is that he gives no reliable way to determine “him who really has [the Spirit’s witness].” Or, for that matter, any reason to think that the Spirit actually exists.

Mother Teresa famously agonized over this question. She had powerful spiritual experiences as a young woman, but then she felt them no longer. Craig’s approach could have offered her nothing.

Objection 3

If human thinking is fallible, as we’ve seen in the Mormon or Muslim who are wrong in thinking that they have an authentic spiritual experience, maybe Christians should also hesitate to trust their own thinking when it declares that their experience is authentic.

Craig responds by denying that there is any parallel between the Christian and the non-Christian. The Mormon or Hindu thinks that his experience is indistinguishable in character from the Christian’s? They’re simply wrong.

Put reason in its place

Craig raises more hypothetical objections to spiritual belief justified by reason rather than by the witness of the Holy Spirit. If we demanded good reasons, he says, “[that] would consign most Christians [who haven’t developed good reasons] to irrationality.”

Yes, he really said that. It’d be a pain to have to, y’know, do all that research and stuff. I mean, who’s got the time? Using reason would be inconvenient, so let’s not.

Craig brings insight to another issue:

According to the magisterial role of reason [that is, putting reason in charge], these persons [evaluating Christianity’s claims] should not have believed in Christ until they finished their apologetic.

Well, yeah. You usually don’t accept a claim—especially one as remarkable as the Christian one—without good evidence. Do you expect rational people to apologize for that?

And we’re back to the symmetry with the position of the guy from the other religion. Do you want to give him this excuse? Should, “believe first, justify later” be a position that you respect for the non-Christian as well as the Christian?

Craig next imagines someone justifying their life in front of God. If reasonable arguments for belief were mandatory, then nonbelievers could argue that they simply hadn’t been given sufficiently strong arguments. But we can’t have that since the Bible says that “men are without excuse.”

Follow the drunken reasoning: we start with the correctness of the Bible; so when it says that there is no excuse, it must be correct; so there is no justification for nonbelief, including insufficient reasons; so reasons must not be mandatory. See how that works? Again, Craig tells us that relying on reason would be inconvenient, so let’s not.

William Lane Craig is a professor of philosophy at Talbot School of Theology. I wonder what standards he imposes on his students. Would he accept this kind of “thinking” from his students? That evidence and reason are subordinate to the students’ internal, nonverifiable conviction? How would you grade a paper if it was supported with earnest conviction instead of evidence, and reason couldn’t be used to evaluate it?

So much for apologetics to raise the intellectual content of the conversation.

If Christianity doesn’t seem true to you, [C.S. Lewis] says,
then by all means reject it!
But once you are in,
you are no longer responsible to weigh all things.
Indeed, you are responsible not to!
— Robert M. Price, “The Sin of Faith

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 7/21/14.)
Image via Daniel Stark, CC license