8 responses so far ↓

• 1 C. L. Hanson // Mar 23, 2007 at 4:12 am

  The Gnostic Gospels: Finally a book in your Christian Scholarship series that I’ve read!!! Fascinating book…

• 2 Johnny // Mar 23, 2007 at 7:38 am

  I’ve been reading a lot about historical jesus research lately. I’ve read Crosson and Borg, but I’ve also read Evans, Dunn, Wright, Craig, and Perkins. The one thing that I notice is that Borg, Crosson, and Ehrman are on the extreme “left,” while the others I mention are either in the middle or on the “right.”

  Given the diversity of views, it seems to me that most people agree with those that already match their political intuitions. I merely point this out because my tendency to agree with the Crosson/Borg crowd is more based on my own political views, then the strenght of their arguments. When I read the critical assessments of these authors I begin to see them more as interesting, rather than reliable guides to the historical jesus question.

• 3 amelia // Mar 23, 2007 at 7:54 am

  those of you interested in the history of women and sex in christianity should check out pagels’ book adam, eve and the serpent. it’s a great read and very informative.

• 4 John // Mar 23, 2007 at 10:18 am

  Johnny, I think that their reliability depends a lot on where you are starting from. If you’re a dabbler like me, then just being introduced to the idea of Jesus as a historical problem is a big step (Crossan’s Historical Jesus is probably the only heavy duty academic work listed above, the rest are definitely intended for popular consumption); perhaps any one of the authors you mentioned would accomplish this. They introduce you to the concept of the Gospels as separate historical documents among many potential sources, and the idea of looking at events in terms of probability. These are big steps for anyone who is emerging from a purely faith-based approach to Christian history.

  But I agree with you that these authors are consciously creating narratives in which they inject their own biases, no matter how objective they may try to be. And each of them acknowledges their extreme personal interest in their scholarship, and how their studies have transformed their faith. Each has moved from certainty to doubt in matters of faith (if not in politics), and that is why their studies appeal to me.

  Ultimately, I think all scholarship is deeply personal.

• 5 Miko // Mar 23, 2007 at 6:34 pm

  I heart Pagels. I haven’t actually read any of her stuff, just stuff that quotes her liberally. Stuff with a feminist bent (hat tip to Elise), mostly. Her Gospels is on my List of Things To Read but I haven’t gotten to it, yet.
  

  all scholarship is deeply personal

  Most definately! I know that personal reasons are what made me major in history & what continues to fuel my flirtation with feminist christianity and reinterpretations of various historical events in light of What We Know Now.

  Thanx for the ideas! I shall have to head back to my trusty library and see what they have in stock.

• 6 PMK // Mar 25, 2007 at 8:24 pm

  John,

  “These are big steps for anyone who is emerging from a purely faith-based approach to Christian history.”

  I think the direction of someone’s journey is very important in shaping the questions (and possible answers) that excite them. I grew up with all the doubt stuff. Creating the space for historical perspective, deconstructing the gospels, looking for answers in science, etc., was and is still exciting to my father, who struggled out of the religious expectations of his childhood. As a young man, I experienced a desire for a community of reverence and thankfulness, and I found myself asking different questions. Namely, what is meaningful in the religious traditions, teaching, stories, etc.? Why have they been powerful? In what way do they answer real human needs?

  For instance, the doctrine of the atonement made no sense to me at the time. I don’t mean that I found it hard to take literally (true enough), but I couldn’t figure out how it made sense ethically, or in terms of the myth itself. What was compelling? Why would a death (the death of God or God’s son) be necessary to open the doors of forgiveness? Eventually I came to the place where I had an answer for that–or answers: both a students’ understanding of a variety of interpretations of the atonement, and an insight of my own about how the the story opened up something to me about the nature of forgiveness: Forgiveness is not meaningful from one who has not been hurt. The story of Jesus’ suffering shows not just that, as is often said, God suffers with us, but God is willing to suffer (and does suffer) at our hands, yet still lives and is still powerful. Such a God’s forgiveness is not cheap, but meaningful.

  Having discovered this meaning within the tradition about God and his Christ, I want access and a place in this story–at the same time as I demand space for my unknowing (including historicity). I have not found a way to translate the meaning of this story out of its God-reference. Have you read Gregory MacGuire’s *Wicked*? The bood was much more complex and meaningful than the musical. In my interpretation, Elphaba finally breaks on two related issues: (1) She feels a need for forgiveness for Fiero’s death. When she can’t get if from his wife, she just burns inside. (2) In this state, she is unable to do the one thing she most humanly needs to do, which is extend love to her son. The rest of the book chronicles her disintegration into the wicked witch who cries, “Just give me those shoes!” Where do we go, or how do we talk about it, when we need forgiveness that the wronged person will not give? Do we “forgive ourselves”? Confess to a friend and get a “that’s o.k.”? Somehow we need confidence–a deep assurance–that though the debt can never be paid (the wrong can never be undone), we still have the power to channel love into this world for the strengthening and healing of one or many (and ourselves). I am part of an order of creation in which this is possible. At least one thing Christianty offers that I’m not sure I’ve seen non-theist communities offer so powerfully, is redemption for all of us who really do need to turn around, who have F-d up big time or in some dull, deadening series of small times–people who need to be re-loved and know it, and be assured that the power is available to them–wherever it comes from–to bear good fruit.

  For me, it is these questions of meaning and ministry that keep me tuned to religion, even as I elbow for space for historical inquiry, for breaking the monolith of biblical authority, for doubting received doctrines, and for unknowing.

  Please forgive me if my comments are long and tangentially related to the thread.

• 7 John // Mar 25, 2007 at 9:20 pm

  PMK, no forgiveness needed here. I find your comments right on target, and always provocative (in a good way). You help me to ponder why it is that I refuse to throw out the religious baby with the institutional bathwater.

  I personally have found more healing and forgiveness through good therapy and loving personal relationships than I have through religion, but I believe in wrong-doing as a group and the need for communal repentance. I can’t make sense of personal atonement, but I can consider group or societal atonement. I think this is why liberation theology still appeals to me.

  I will have to think more carefully on the rest of your comment.

• 8 joan // Feb 17, 2008 at 11:11 am

  Well maybe to say something like “everything is relative” or everything depends from where is observed might sound too simple but in the very end it’s our own view and biases that make us value or not any theory or research, and in the end what’s the point or the gaining of knowing if Jesus said or didn’t said something or if the bible was changed or not? maybe that’s is why I like buddhism because it is not spellbound by words as western religions are, it’s about your own inner experience and not about what others have written or said.

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