The Electronic Frontier Foundation recently updated its Legal Guide for Bloggers. It’s worth going through all of this.
It looks like Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center may turn out to be a decent film after all. Foxnews reports:
Stone and Paramount Pictures showed an invited audience the first 26 minutes of this controversial new film. The full feature is set for release on Aug. 9… From what we saw, World Trade Center looks like it will be a very moving, effective piece about Sept. 11. Five years after the tragedies, it is time to start seeing films and hearing music about the catastrophe, as long as they’re done with wisdom and judiciousness… All signs point to Stone not delivering his usual conspiracy theories, but depicting the lives of two families on the verge of disaster.
What a relief. So we’re not going to learn about how the World Trade Center was really brought down by Bush’s demolitions according to conspiracy theorist David Ray Griffin. The author of The New Pearl Harbor and The 9/11 Commission Report: Omissions and Distortions insists that the plane crashes could not have caused the towers to collapse like they did: straight down, at free-fall speed, as in controlled demolitions. Griffin actually has a lot of crackpot ideas. He thinks a missile hit the Pentagon (not American 77); that United 93 was shot down by the U.S.; that Bush knew the hijackings were coming, and gave the military stand down orders in order to allow the attacks, so as to justify a war in the Middle-East for oil control. Many of his ideas are outlined in this essay.
I was almost positive that David Ray Griffin would become prime source material for Oliver Stone, but apparently even Stone has his limits. Either that or he’s just becoming less paranoid.
Chris Tilling asks, “Who do you think is the greatest living New Testament scholar, and why?”
I can’t give a single answer to this question. Back in October I came up with Scholars to Spend Time With, and I suppose I consider four of the (living) individuals on this list as the “best”: Dale Allison for the historical Jesus; Philip Esler and Mark Nanos (tied) for Paul; and Richard Rohrbaugh for biblical culture. Dale’s approach to the historical Jesus question is identical to my own on almost every level; Philip and Mark tackle Galatians/Romans so oppositely, yet each so compellingly; and Dick knows more about honor-shame societies than anyone else I know.
(Naturally, you can link to each of these scholars under my “Websites of Interest”. Allison and Nanos have direct links; Esler and Rohrbaugh can be accessed from the “Context Group” link.)
Some reviewers of The Da Vinci Code film, including The Associated Press and Jim Davila, claim that it went out of his way to soften some of the book’s factual errors. Greg Wright of Hollywood Jesus takes the opposite view:
“[Reportedly] Ron Howard’s movie ‘subtly softens’ the material of Dan Brown’s book. The Associated Press couldn’t have it more wrong…
“Yes, Tom Hanks’ Robert Langdon does find some new dialogue in his mouth courtesy of screenwriter Akiva Goldsman, words that at least play devil’s advocate with Ian McKellen’s Leigh Teabing. But in the end, the cinematic Langdon becomes much more of a true believer than does his literary counterpart…
“[The] film portrays Opus Dei and the ‘shadow council’ of the Vatican as really being in cahoots, really conspiring to kill people in the name of God, really trying to supress intellectual inquiry, really turning its back on truth and righteousness. In short, Ron Howard turns the Catholic Church into a genuine villain…
“Most importantly, the film invests significant energy in validating the Magdalene myth. While in Brown’s book Marie Chauvel basically leaves the existence of the Sangreal documents and Magdalene’s bones to the world’s imagination, Howard has Langdon and Neveu discover plenty of material evidence to back up the claim…
“Where’s the mystery that feeds the soul? Where’s the adventure? You’ll have to find it in the book, I’m afraid. There’s no codebreaking here, just polemic.”
That’s being rather generous to the book, but whatever. Da Vinci is a wreck no matter how you look at it.
It turns out that Jesus’ “Jewishness” has become something of a scholarly holy symbol in academia, which fuels hidden agendas. In The Symbolic Jesus, William Arnal offers a Schweitzer-like indictment of those agendas, which are the subject of chapter four, to which chapters two and three serve as extended prefaces. Two presents an overview of the history of anti-Semitism in New Testament scholarship, and three (the book’s weakest) tries explaining why the “Jewishness” of Jesus is a manufactured red herring. We’ll go through each in turn.
Chapter 2: Bad Karma: Anti-Semitism in New Testament Scholarship
Looking back on the racist scholarship of Houston Chamberlain and Walter Grundmann (pp 8-10) is sobering, but one may wonder about its relevance. The specter of the Aryan Jesus has long been put to rest, hasn’t it? Maybe not as much as we think. Sean Freyne has implicitly compared Crossan to Grundmann(1), and Birger Pearson has drawn sly parallels between the Jesus Seminar and Nazi scholarship from the 30s-40s.(2)
Now, Crossan and Funk are anything but unwitting Nazis, and they certainly insist Jesus was a Jew, so what’s the real problem? The issue is that they reconstruct Jesus as a Hellenized Jew. Scholars have re-opened the question of Galilee’s ethnicity, with the result that Jesus often ends up superficially Jewish, his message more compatible with Greco-Roman philosophy than Judaic eschatology. A Hellenized figure feeds modern secular fantasies, and that’s evidently enough to call forth parallels to racist fantasies. Never underestimate the power of rhetoric.
Scholars have become defensive about Jesus’ Jewishness for other reasons too, and those interests are exposed in chapter four. But before getting to them we should consider Arnal’s defense of the Hellenized Jesus.
Chapter 3: A Manufactured Controversy: Why the “Jewish Jesus” is a Red Herring
Arnal’s defense isn’t always convincing. For instance, he insists that “the de-Judaization of Jesus which allegedly occurs in Burton Mack’s writing occurs at the behest of evidence” (p 23): material from the earliest stage of the Jesus tradition — Q1 and pre-Markan pronouncement stories — which have little use for Torah, temple, and purity. But Q (let alone Qx) is probably a mirage, and it’s likely in any case that Mack has embraced “evidence” in support of a predetermined view of Jesus (or Christian origins) with whom (or which) he finds favor, as he does.
Arnal goes on to point out that “Mack [along with others like Funk and Crossan] explicitly asserts that Jesus was Jewish…[and] the ways in which Jesus’ Jewish background led to his approach being distinct from that of the cynics” (p 24). But mere declarations that Jesus was Jewish don’t really settle the issue, nor do passing acknowledgments that the kingdom of God Jesus spoke of was (obviously) “theologized”. Even if it can be shown that Galilee was significantly Hellenized, a Jewish cynic will remain an oxymoron until Mack, Crossan, and Vaage are able to produce a single example of such syncretism in the first century.
More generally, against Arnal, there is some validity to the charge that the Hellenized Jesus is non-Jewish, or at least de-Judaized. The works of Mack, Crossan, and Funk push Judaic elements to the periphery to the extent that Jesus hardly has any affinities with any of the Jewish theology emerging in Josephus and rabbinic literature, not to mention the very synoptic sources that portray him.
On the other hand, this doesn’t mean that these scholars are necessarily wrong in their interpretation (though I think they largely are). If it happens to be true that Galileans were more Hellenized than their cousins in the south, it is the historian’s duty to say so, rather than insist on a “Jewishness” that safeguards contemporary interests. Arnal may not be convincing about the particulars, but his more general point is right: however superficial the “Jewish” label has become, it is theoretically possible that Jesus was more Hellenized than many of us want to believe.
But why do people want a Jewish Jesus to begin with? For the (supposed) neutral historian, why does it even matter? What’s at stake? Many things, apparently.
Chapter 4: The Jewish Jesus and Contemporary Identity
Arnal begins his expose by acknowledging agendas on both sides of the field, from those promoting the “Jewish” Jesus (Sanders, Fredriksen, Vermes, Allison, Meier, Wright) and those promoting an alternatively Jewish or Hellenized Jesus (Funk, Crossan, Patterson, Horsley, Mack, Vaage).(3) But the weight of accusation falls on the former group. Though my own sympathies lie with this group (or at least all of them except Wright, who really doesn’t belong; see my contrast between him and Allison below), Arnal isn’t being unfair, just exposing agendas which have been less transparent than usual. As far as I’m concerned, the latter group have clear agendas which repeat the mistakes of the past, rewriting Jesus in order to validate either liberal Christianity or a secular world-view. That’s old news, for which we hardly need another Schweitzer. The agendas of the former group are more oblique and difficult to get a handle on.
But Arnal nails them down pretty well. Those aggressive about Jesus’ Jewishness may be driven by one or more of the following:
(1) The agenda to save one’s scholarship from the legacy of German Lutherans. Sanders, Fredriksen, Vermes, etc. have paved the way to a new and distinctive Anglo-American scholarship, free of Bultmannian influence, free of eisegetical caricatures (pp 41-47)
(2) The intent to keep oneself free from charges of antisemitism. The Jewish Jesus approaches a stereotype of modern Jews, thereby reclaiming (or insulating) Christianity from complicity in the Holocaust. (pp 47-55)
(3) The need to keep one’s religious sensibilities intact. A Jewish Jesus, ironically, helps maintain a distinctive Christian identity and can even reinforce supersessionism (in cases like Wright and Witherington). (pp 56-69)
(4) The goal to preserve one’s cultural identity in the face of postmodernism. A Jesus who believed in Torah, the temple, and purity is a formidable weapon against the erosion of social identities, in effect insisting upon cultural stability. (pp 69-72)
These agendas aren’t so much about making Jesus conform to one’s own beliefs (Sanders’ Jesus is anything but a reflection of Sanders), but they are making him conform to an image which legitimates, however obliquely, their academics, politics, religion, and/or culture — whether intentionally or not (see pp 39-40). We touched on agenda #3 already, and in my view it’s the most significant: the mission to keep Jesus free of secular influence. A Jewish Jesus protects religiosity. But on top of that it keeps the messiah “kosher” in a post-Holocaust age (agenda #2), where no one — not even the most traditional conservative — wants to be liable for antisemitism.
Arnal is upfront about his own biases and not liking the “Jewish Jesus”. Perhaps that makes it easy for him to spot the agendas associated with it. I’m the opposite, and see through the likes of Crossan and Mack right away. So we learn from each other; no one is agenda-free. Reconstructions of Jesus need to be defended for the right reasons, in either case. Since I lean towards “Jewish” reconstructions of Jesus more than “Hellenized” ones, I will offer a contrast between two scholars who advocate their version of it: Dale Allison and Tom Wright.
It’s hard to pin agendas on Allison. He downplays scholarly progressivism as much as possible, and even denies the existence of a third Jesus-quest which outshines previous projects.(4) So much for agenda #1. His Jesus, unlike those of Sanders and Vermes, while conventionally apocalyptic, opposes the covenant and Torah in a sectarian manner.(5) There goes agenda #2. Allison’s religious sensibilities can take a beating: Jesus was mistaken about things, and history can’t offer assurances that he was resurrected.(6) One doesn’t exactly sense agendas #3/#4 lurking in the background, not even when he objects to the secularization of Jesus (which he does for solid reasons).(7) All in all, Allison’s works are devoid of rhetoric which invokes Jesus’ “Jewishness” as a hot-button item.
Contrast this with Tom Wright’s incessant reminders that Jesus did everything for the best and most “Jewish!” of reasons. He comments on Mk 7:14-23/Mt 15:10-20:
“[The subversion of Jewish food laws] does not make Jesus a good Platonist, or for that matter a good liberal Protestant, rejecting everything ‘material’ or ‘outward’ as being irrelevant to the ‘spiritual’ life. It makes him a good Jew, recognizing that Yawheh desires to recreate human beings as wholes.”(8)
One senses that Wright underscores Jesus’ Jewishness as an assurance that his messiah is really okay; he’s not an anachronism; he’s completely Jewish (despite appearances), continuous with the Hebrew Scriptures, and thus readily compatible with the evangelical creed.
Evangelicals have become protective of Paul’s Jewishness as much as Jesus’. Take Tim Gallant:
“Paul is a Jew. After all the nonsense spouted in 19th century German theology, modern scholarship has finally come back round to the point that orthodoxy knew all along. The story that Paul tells is the story of Israel and her collision with her destiny and fulfillment. When the Apostle Paul writes, we are not encountering the originator of a new religion. We are encountering a true Jew, whose faith remains truly Jewish.”
Look at what this accomplishes. The obvious is emphasized — that Paul was Jewish — so he’s kosher (agenda #2 fulfilled); this “truly Jewish” apostle squares with Christian orthodoxy (agenda #3 creeping in), over against the “nonsense” of liberal scholarship (agendas #1 and #3 now involved). Like Wright’s Jesus, Gallant’s Paul is shielded in advance from charges of anti-progressivism, anti-semitism, and anti-orthodoxy. That’s potent rhetoric.
The Symbolic Jesus is an important book that, while containing objectionable inferences along the way, makes the reader ask the right questions for the right reasons. Liberal agendas have involved self-portraits, and they’re easy to spot. Orthodox agendas deal with apologetics and are hard to miss too. But somewhere in between lurk new and murky agendas relating to the question of our identities — academic, political, religious, and cultural — and the front for these agendas is, of all things, Jesus’ Jewishness. It’s become a curious development, to say the least.
Arnal’s solution is as Schweitzerian as his indictments. He says the quest for the historical Jesus should again be abandoned:
“Not because scholars cannot agree on their reconstructions; lack of agreement may only indicate that further — and more rigorous — work needs to be done. Not because the investigation has been biased; bias is unavoidable, here as elsewhere… But because, ultimately, the historical Jesus does not matter, either for our understanding of the past, or our understanding of the present.” (p 77)(9)
Well, no; not exactly. We do need Jesus for history’s sake. But Arnal is right that we don’t need Jesus, or his Jewishness, to feel secure about ourselves.
1. “Galilean Questions to Crossan’s Mediterranean Jesus”, in Arnal and Desjardin’s Whose Historical Jesus?, 1997, p 91.
2. “The Gospel According to the Jesus Seminar”, in Occasional Papers of the Institute for Antiquity and Christianity 35, April 1996, p 42.
3. Note that Richard Horsley does not advocate a Hellenized Jesus. His Jesus is alternatively Jewish on account of a northern Israelite heritage. I think Arnal is wrong to put him in the so-called non-Jewish category. He belongs in the Jewish camp for lambasting the Hellenized Jesus as much as Sanders, Vermes, Wright, et all. Horsley may use Galilee to distinguish between northern and southern Jews, but un-Hellenized Jews they remain.
4. See Resurrecting Jesus, chapter 1; and “Forgetting the Past” in The Downside Review, Vol 120, No 421.
5. See Millenarian Prophet, p 87 #8; and “Jesus and the Covenant: A Response to E.P. Sanders”, JSNT 29 (1987).
6. See Millenarian Prophet and Resurrecting Jesus, passim.
7. Resurrecting Jesus, chapter 1.
8. Jesus and the Victory of God, p 284.
9. Note how Schweitzer and Arnal try killing the quest for Jesus in different ways. The former claimed that Jesus’ apocalyptic fanaticism is irrelevant, even if his spirit continues to inspire and drive people despite this. The latter says that Jesus is just plainly irrelevant, regardless of what his message was, and however Judaic or non-Judaic he was.
Catch the interview with Tyler Williams at biblioblogs.com.
“If you put away those who report accurately, you’ll keep only those who know what you want to hear. I can think of nothing more poisonous than to rot in the stink of your own reflections.” (The Lady Jessica to her daughter Alia, in Frank Herbert’s Children of Dune)
It’s been a while since I checked on the value of this blog. Back in October it was worthless, and it remained that way for a while. Now it’s apparently worth close to thirty grand. If my ideas are really worth that much…well, we won’t go there.
UPDATE: Tyler Williams is now revelling in the fact that he’s no longer worthless either — and that he has surpassed me by leaps and bounds. How dare he?
As my friend Matt pointed out, these blog values are apparently based not on site visits, but on the number of sites which link to your blog. See the bottom of this page: $564.64/site seems to be the figure used. Then go to this page, type in your blog URL, and click on “search”. You’ll get a return of “X number of sites linking to [your blog]”. If you multiply that number by $564.64, lo and behold, that’s your blog worth.
But that doesn’t wash entirely, because there have always been links to this blog, even back in the days when I was worthless. Well, in any case, the underlying assumption is rather amusing: that media companies would actually pay $564.64 per site that links to you.
Jim Davila gives The Da Vinci Code a fairly good review. He’s easier to please than most critics (on which see here), and far easier to please than someone like me. (I know I’ll hate this film with a passion when I finally get around to seeing it on DVD.)
Two points of interest in Jim’s review. First:
“The movie not only corrected some errors by omission (e.g., that the Dead Sea Scrolls were Christian documents), it also seemed to go out of its way to correct a few (by no means all!!) of the historical errors in the book. Langdon challenges Teabing’s reference to the Priory of Sion and says that it’s been discredited. (Teabing, of course, says ha ha that’s what they want you to think.) And when Teabing spouts the nonsense about the idea of a divine Jesus only arising in Constantine’s time, Langdon vigorously and correctly asserts that it had been around for a long time before that, and Teabing does not disagree. All in all, that awful bogus infodump in the middle of the book is made more bearable in the movie, mainly because it’s shorter.”
So the deluge of rebuttals to Brown’s “historical facts” has evidently made an impression on people.
Jim also notes that “the up side [to The Da Vinci Code’s popularity] is that millions of people are now enthusiastically debating historical and theological issues that they were not even aware of a few years ago.” As much as it galls and chafes me to admit it, Dan Brown has done the world a service by fueling a massive interest in Christian origins. Scholarly books by Ed Sanders, Dale Allison, Bart Ehrman, etc. have been getting more circulation at my library — even if not as much as Baigent’s Holy Blood, Holy Grail — ever since Brown’s novel became a blockbuster.
The evangelical Mike Gunn puts the matter this way (I finished reading his new book):
Dan Brown gives us a gift much like the gift that Arius gave the Church in the fourth century. Arius opposed the truth with an alternate story that made the Church stand up and take notice, that made the Church clear the dross and cobwebs from its beliefs and crystallize the truths that it knew to be true. (The Da Vinci Code Adventure, p 234)
I’d put it in more secular terms, but yes: Brown has forced certain issues out in the open by engaging the interest of everyone. The down side is that a sadly high number of people will follow cranks like Baigent anyway.
I’m currently reading a book which examines The Da Vinci Code not just by exposing its bogus errors (too many have done that already), but by engaging it in the wider context of Christian-faith mysteries depicted in novel and film. It’s called The Da Vinci Code Adventure: On the Trail of Fact, Legend, Faith and Film , written mostly by Mike Gunn, but with contributions from Greg and Jenn Wright from Hollywood Jesus. The book breathes an evangelical air, but lightly enough so that anyone can enjoy reading it.
At one point Gunn contrasts Da Vinci with my favorite Jesus film, Jesus of Montreal, both of which are unorthodox and aimed at guardians of Christian doctrine.
While Jesus of Montreal, like The Da Vinci Code, offers an alternate story, I never really got the feeling I was being duped. Jesus of Montreal made me think and contemplate the potential truths of the alternate story while maintaining the integrity of the original… I never found myself wanting to argue theology while I was watching Jesus of Montreal. I could actually even resonate with Arcand’s redemptive story, even though it is no doubt one that the institutional church would prefer to edit; but like good art, it allows for tension, begging you to think. Dan Brown’s characters, though, often appear as preachy as Jimmy Swaggart on the “Old Time Gospel Hour”, leaving as much to my imagination as a game of hide-and-seek with a three year old. (In case you haven’t done that lately, they pretty much hide right in front of you.) (p 13)
I couldn’t have said it better.
On the whole the book offers a remarkably positive criticism The Da Vinci Code by inviting people to do what Dan Brown wants them to do: follow his adventure, and see where it leads; and see how it compares to other novels/films which delve into the mysteries of the Christian faith. That’s a healthy approach, and opposite to that of insecure Christian leaders who prefer boycotts. All the same, I’m waiting until the DVD comes out to make fun of Howard’s film. The Da Vinci Code is an adventure I can put aside for a day when I have absolutely nothing better to do.