The Case for Christ

The sun has set on the night of Halloween, and in a celebratory air, I went searching for movies that could scare me. My wife’s out of the house. Time to watch something that will give me shivers up and down. One popped up straight away on the Netflix Instant Watch list: Lee Strobel’s The Case for Christ. Few things have the power to horrify quite like the two words ‘Christian’ and ‘Documentary’ put together in one sentence. Dare I watch it? How could I resist? I’d write about it, I decided. I’d write about it and scoff at it majestically.

The tagline, “A journalist’s personal investigation of the evidence for Jesus,” evokes two thoughts. First, journalist. It strikes me of the appeal to authority fallacy. Look at me, I’m used to doing research and finding sources for articles; trust me based on my experience as a researcher. Well, no. In matters as grandiose as “Is there a god” that have been considered by millions—no, billions—of people, it doesn’t answer all questions merely because a journalist says something. You’ll have to provide some evidence, and rely less on your job title.

My second thought is the particular phrase “personal investigation.” Is “personal” a weasel word to fall back on, so that if I disagree with anything he says, then he can say “Well, it’s my personal truth, and it doesn’t have to be yours. To each their own, after all.” Either something’s true or not, and no amount of “personal” revelation is going to change the matter.

Next up, a screen showing the definition of “atheist” to be, “One who denies the existence of God.” All right, some dictionaries might say this certainly, but it doesn’t mean this. It means, “one who lacks the belief in god; not theist.” The former definition implies denial, which is the refusal to admit the truth or reality of an assertion. It’s biased by definition, and not true etymologically.

“Probably” has more consonants than that, Mr. Strobel. Pronouncing it “prolly” doesn’t impart much in the way of excellent journalism.

Next up, evidence. Evidence, evidence, evidence. Either you’ll be held up by your words, Mr. Strobel, or hung by them; I am listening intently for evidence. So what do you have to give as evidence for the truth of the Bible?

Argument 1: “Expert Witnesses” should be believed because they are “Expert Witnesses” – a whole string of professors from various colleges, seminaries, and universities. No, that’s not going to suffice. As stated above, the appeal to authority fallacy won’t be accepted here. What next?

Argument 2: The Bible should be believed because the writing fits in with other historical data of that period. Just because it was written during that time doesn’t make it true. Next?

Argument 3: Eyewitness accounts are important because they provide evidence for God. And eyewitnesses are also extremely prone to be wrong, as proven by numerous studies. Circumstantial evidence is always stronger evidence. Even if the authors of the Bible were eyewitnesses to what they wrote down, that doesn’t mean they were writing down the truth. Next?

Argument 4: Papias, a Christian apologist, said that the apostle John was an eyewitness, and Papias was one generation younger than John, ergo everything John wrote down was accurate. Again, I’m not going to accept “I knew him and he wrote down something, so whatever he wrote must be true.” I want actual, solid evidence, not fallible eyewitness or hearsay accounts.

Argument 5: The authors of the gospels wrote during the first century. Other eyewitnesses also were alive during this time and didn’t speak out against the lies of the Bible. Ergo, the Bible is true. I’m not sure how to deal with this one. Because other people didn’t write about something, it makes it true? I want positive evidence, not lack of evidence. Next.

Argument 6: Prior to being written down, the stories of the gospel were oral tradition, and oral tradition is self-correcting and therefore never changes over time. First, I doubt oral tradition is infallible; second, that doesn’t make the original stories to be true. Next.

Argument 7: There are no contradictions in the New Testament given enough weaseling around. And since there are no contradictions, the Bible is true. False. Next.

Argument 8: The Jewish historian Josephus refers to Jesus; the Roman historian Tacitus refers to Jesus, the political writer Suetonius refers to Jesus; and lastly, “critics refer to him.” Ergo, everything the Bible says is true. I’m not going to accept the argument from authority, no matter who you point the finger to. I want solid evidence. Besides, none of these three men were contemporaries of Jesus. Josephus was born 37 CE, Tacitus in 56 CE, and Suetonius in 69 CE. Let’s trust the words of people who lived years and years after a supposed event in history happened to tell us about it. No. Next.

Argument 9: The Gnostic gospels were written much later than the original gospels, and therefore aren’t to be believed. Therefore, the Bible is true. How is that even a rational argument? Next.

Argument 10: A professor says that the original gospels are reliable. Therefore, they are reliable. Next.

Argument 11: I was once a hard-hearted atheist. Now with the scales tipped with so much evidence, I was open to evidence. Therefore the Bible is true. What evidence? You haven’t produced a shred of reliable evidence yet. Next.

Argument 12: being a Christian is “way more fulfilling” than being an agnostic. Therefore, the Bible is true. No matter how much something makes you feel, it doesn’t make it true. Next.

Argument 13: The Jesus of the New Testament fulfills prophesies of the Old Testament. Therefore the New Testament is true. It’s not hard to imagine why this would be: the New Testament was written after the Old Testament.

Argument 14: Jesus did miracles in the New Testament. Therefore the Bible is true.

Argument 15: The Talmud says that Jesus was a magician. Therefore Jesus did miracles. Therefore the Bible is true.

Argument 16: Strobel didn’t want there to be a god because he didn’t want to be held accountable for his life. What does want have to do with evidence? It doesn’t. Next.

Argument 17: Strobel is angry that he’s losing his wife to a Christian cult. Therefore he wants to conform so he doesn’t lose his wife. Touching. Next.

Argument 18: The Bible says Jesus was crucified by the Romans and rose from the dead. The Romans were known to be thorough in execution. Therefore, Jesus resurrected. Is there any evidence other than the damned Bible? NO.

Argument 19: The Bible says that Jesus’ tomb was donated by a non-follower of Jesus, and the tomb was discovered by women; both facts are embarrassing to the early church. Ergo, the Bible is true.

Argument 20: The Bible says that Paul saw Jesus and that 500 other people saw Jesus. This is strong evidence that Jesus rose from the dead. Actually, it’s exactly the opposite of strong evidence, because if so many people saw Jesus, then you would think any of them would write about it, which they didn’t.

Argument 21: Because people believed Jesus resurrected wholeheartedly shortly after that time, therefore it happened. Because the Christian movement evolved and many of them suffered martyrdom for something they “saw with their own eyes,” it means that it is true. No it doesn’t. Next.

Argument 22: Saul/Paul and James turned from skeptic to believer. Therefore the Bible is true. Just because someone changes their mind about something doesn’t mean it’s true. Next.

“Jesus was murdered by crucifixion.” Execution isn’t murder. He even had a trial and everything. Sorry.

Argument 23: Strobel used a legal pad to write down the evidence for and against Jesus being the son of God. He concludes after pages upon pages of evidence that it would take more “faith” to maintain his atheism than to believe Jesus is the son of God. Well, I’d love to see some of that evidence. You’d think after an hour of this documentary I might see some. Saying the Bible is true because the Bible is true isn’t evidence whatsoever.

He states:

Consistent with the evidence, the most logical, the most rational step I could take was a step of faith in this same direction that the evidence was pointing and put my trust in Jesus.

How can someone looking at evidence, logic, and reason jump so blindly to faith and trust in the direction of so far unstated evidence? By very definition, faith is irrational and illogical and in no way based on evidence. Is this the moment when Strobel finally gives up on his mind?

Argument 24: When Strobel became a Christian, he changed. Therefore, Christianity is good. Therefore, it’s true. I won't even dignify this one.

So ended a movie that began poorly and ended in drivel. It nearly had me convinced at points… to turn the thing off. At least it was scary… in how much evidence it lacked.

The Death Penalty

Few things are better, on a Sunday morning, to sit in front of my computer with a hot cup of coffee and not go to church. I always hated the wretched affair. Getting up early on the weekend, half of my two precious days off from school. Having to put on nice clothes—I still hate putting on damned ties. Sitting uncomfortably on hard pews and singing boring songs and listening to unimaginative sermons. Milling about afterwards while my mom uses the restroom, and then off to some lunch out feeling like I’ve wasted hours of my life.

Now I have the luxury of never going to church again. You can’t make me!

Let’s talk about the death penalty. I’ve been meaning to talk about it for years, but haven’t ever quite gotten around to it. I’m currently against it. Here’s why.

Hypocrisy. Generally, the only reason why people push out the death penalty is to punish murderers. Sure, some could argue for the death penalty for lesser offenses, like treason, and so forth, but for the vast majority, it’s to punish murderers. I think it’s hypocritical to punish someone with death for causing death. Granted, the death penalty isn’t murder by definition, but doesn’t it accomplish the same thing? If someone kills, aren’t we saying that killing is bad? Why then do we have the right to kill back, given other options?

I can imagine that in the past, or in certain circumstances, people didn’t have the option of permanently imprisoning murderers. A small island with five people on it, for instance, with a caught murderer—how on earth could the island’s inhabitants keep watch on the murderer and carry out their busy lives? Hang the murderer and get on with your lives.

Nowadays in modern society, especially in America, prisons are everywhere and well-equipped to permanently house those who could harm us. Society is not in danger by caught murderers. They’re not going to escape and rampage villages. So it’s no longer necessary to ‘get rid’ of the danger anymore.

Vigilantism. Common arguments for the death penalty truck out the argument, What if someone killed your beloved family member? Wouldn’t you want to see them die? I think this line of thinking is a mistake. To make this argument makes an argument for vigilantism. I do not think justice to be in the hands of the irrational. If someone killed my beloved family member, I’m precisely the wrong person to ask how to achieve justice, because I’ve lost my impartiality and, no doubt, rationality. It’s precisely at this moment that I’m the wrong person to ask how to achieve justice, because all I’d want to do is strike out and kill, kill, kill in a rage. It’s understandable, but it’s not rational. Let the police, the judges, the juries find justice; not the victims of collateral damage.

Cruel and Unusual. The eighth amendment of the U.S. Constitution states:

Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.

I think capital punishment is cruel. How could it not be? By killing someone for punishment, no matter how humanely, the person results without one of their basic human rights, the right to life. How can killing someone not be cruel in a base way, especially when alternatives are an option? Also, given the current appeals process, I would also say the lengthy road to the end result is cruel. Capital punishment is certainly unusual, given that the vast majority of murderers out there are not put to death.

Certainty. Given the fallibility of any human construction, there is always the probability that the convicted subject is innocent. Capital punishment leaves no recourse, and if the condemned is later found innocent ex post facto, there is nothing but apologies and name-clearing to do. By enacting the death penalty, you have to admit that you are willing to kill an innocent person, however slight the possibility.

Pragmatics. I’ve heard statistics quoted at me of the expense of putting someone on death row in the United States. I’ve always found this to be a weak argument against the death penalty, but I thought I’d mention it anyway. They say it’s more expensive to put someone to death than to permanently imprison them.

No prevention. There also seems little evidence stating that the death penalty is a deterrence measure. Murderers seem indifferent to commit crimes in states with or without the death penalty.

So those who promote the use of capital punishment must do so on the moral grounds of the righteousness of the punishment itself. Can killing someone in retaliation be moral in a rational society? Given other options, I can’t think how it could be.

Abortion

I remember vividly standing on the edge of Academy Boulevard in Colorado Springs sometime in my youth, holding a white sign that stated in bold, blue letters, “ABORTION KILLS CHILDREN.” I gripped it with both hands and stood near my father, mother, and sister. The street was lined for miles with so-called ‘pro-life’ church-goers on a Sunday afternoon. It was an event coordinated city-wide by the Christians in town, which we had heard about by our Presbyterian church, Village Seven.

Cars drove past on the busy street. I thought they were honking in encouragement of our cause. It crossed my mind that it seemed a little silly, miles of people protesting something that everyone driving past was also supporting. Why bother, if there was no opposition?

Later I remember my mother talking about the event, about how the local news had covered it, but spent most of their time on the counter-demonstration from the pro-choice crowd, which was minuscule in comparison to our massive pro-life one. We shook our heads at the sinfulness and bias of the media.

The last remnant of the demonstration was a bumper sticker that said in the same blue letters, “ABORTION KILLS CHILDREN,” which clung to our station wagon’s chrome bumper for years to come. Eventually the bright Colorado sun faded the letters into obscurity, and by the time I was driving the Tank (as it was affectionately known) to college, it was all but a white rectangle, which eventually peeled off altogether.

Years later, when I was disillusioned with religion and awakening to atheism, an anti-choice display was erected at the outdoor fountain common area near my university’s main hall. Every day while I walked to classes I passed by huge signs of aborted fetuses. I don’t recall anything else. I didn’t pay much attention to it—after all I had been one of them once, so I knew how they thought and I’d heard every one of their arguments. What they didn’t have was my mind anymore, and I instead spent my time contemplating how on earth I wasn’t going to fail my Spanish class instead, until the signs were around the corner.

Abortion has been on my list of things to come to some “conclusion” about, but it’s something I’ve delayed thinking about, because it’s never really been my concern. And that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s not my concern, not my business. Women have the right to safely end their pregnancies, and how or why they do it is their own business and none of mine. Aborting a fetus is not equivalent to killing children quite simply because fetuses are not children. It’s like saying that killing a tadpole is killing a frog, a false equivocation. While we are all aware that fetuses eventually grow into children and tadpoles to frogs, saying they are one in the same is false.

Limiting when abortions can take place—which trimester, and so forth, is perhaps a trickier distinction. Surely aborting a fetus that, if pulled from the womb with caesarian section, would thrive healthily, is to be deleterious to all involved and reserved only to prevent hurting the mother? I am no expert in this line of reasoning—and there are lines drawn—for what constitutes an acceptable time to abort and when it should be considered repugnant. On the extreme end there are those who say that is the woman’s right to choose and that the timing is irrelevant; on the other end they say that all fetuses are children or ‘persons,’ and all abortions are murderous.

During a recent trip to Colorado, I noticed an article in the newspaper which discussed an amendment to be put on the ballot on the upcoming election day, Amendment 62, which defines a person as a human being from the beginning of “biological development.” I won’t go into the devastating implications of the amendment if it passed. I hope that Colorado residents have the good sense to defeat it at the polls. I’m also glad that I am no longer one of those Colorado residents, forced to vote on such a ridiculous proposition. (Never mind the campaign ads promoting the proposition that compare abortion to slavery. Colorado, how I miss thee not.)

I have been similarly puzzled by various states’ laws which treat homicides of pregnant women as chargeable for two murders and not one. By all standards, I have a hard time seeing how a fetus can be not a person if aborted but treated as a person if its mother is killed. I suppose some protection should be afforded the fetus in these cases—such as a pregnant woman who is kicked repeatedly until she miscarries, which is surely a crime beyond just the battery of the woman? I suppose I could simplify the position by saying that a woman has the right to both choose to keep the pregnancy or end it, and that no other person has the right to choose for her. If the monster kicks her enough to miscarry, then he has breached the right of her choice, and violated a deeply emotional and physical bond she carries between her and her fetus, which is indeed worse than just the battery of the woman. I suppose in these cases, I can see treating the fetus with more of an elevated status (counting as another murder, for instance). It would be a tricky line to divide, and I’m glad it’s not my responsibility to form the laws for such things.

Regarding the fine lines that one chooses to draw for acceptable versus unacceptable abortions, I’m prone to side with very few, if any, limitations on what constitutes a legal abortion. I suspect the vast majority of women abort their pregnancies with remorse and very good reason, but even if they didn’t, it is their own bodies and they should—and do—have full rights for how to safely conduct or dispense with the organisms growing therein.

Beginnings

I have a penchant for starting new writing projects and, having written profusely for several weeks, discarding them in a forgotten heap by the side of my active imaginary road. As it happens, I also have a proclivity to write elaborate introductions to said writing projects to commemorate the sailing of the metaphorical writing ship. Such is my way.

I’ve been contemplating the last week, after the invention of this name’s blog, what I’m going to write about this time. There are as many writing topics as stars in the sky, but where to point my telescope? I’m a staunch atheist, so I have an inclination towards writing about battling for reason and triumphing in the wonders that science and the human mind can achieve. I’m also happily married and very nearly on the way to building a family—should I write about my life? An ambition of mine is to analyze my thoughts about things I deep important, such as how I derive my sense of morality, ethos, and drive to continue in this vast world.

That all sounds rather vague. We’ll just have to see, dear reader, where my words trail off to and whether they end up at any nice destinations. For now, I’ll keep a hopeful eye out for patterns in my writing and perhaps hope that I’ll have something to say that would be worth reading.

My motto has long been Inadeus, opotano. In every day, opportunity. (No, that isn’t Latin. Please stop giving me disparaging glares.)

William Vimes

Tucson, Arizona