The Heart of Freedom (July 4, 2009)

No particular revisions this year; so just a link to my annual Independence Day sermon that I like to put up every year. {g!}


God’s hope to all our readers, around the world, on this day, and every day!


Jason Pratt

1 Clement's Reliance on 1 Corinthians

In response to a post by my colleague JD, a commenter -- Quixie -- rejected the notion that 1 Clement -- even if authentic -- betrays knowledge of Paul’s letters. On his website, he seems to concede some familiarity with Pauline thought as expressed in chapters 12 and 13 of 1 Corinthians but insists that the author had not read any of Paul’s letters. I think Clement is demonstrably reliant on 1 and 2 Corinthians as well as Romans and Galatians. In this post, however, I will examine Clement's reliance on 1 Corinthians. In particular, I will focus on Clement's explicit reference to Paul's first letter to the Corinthian church.

Quixie’s analysis is conclusory so it is unclear what if any standards he applied in evaluating potential references to Paul’s letters. He also fails to cite any of the leading studies of this issue, instead conducting his own review based on a translation and notations by William Wake, who died in 1737. In any event, judging by his conclusions, Quixie’s expectations are unreasonably high.

Although it is likely there was was an “oral tradition” phase of gospel material prior to their being written down, the same is unlikely for Paul’s letters. Though Paul undoubtedly uses some traditions in his letter, by far most of his letters were free-hand writings in response to specific situations as they arose among the churches. In other words, they were occasional. As a result, it is less likely that correlations are the result of common oral tradition. Also, explicit attribution was not a regular practice among the Apostolic Fathers. We know from their use of the Old Testament that it was not unusual to quote or allude to a written source without identifying the source or even that there was a source.

1 Clement, written by a leader (or leaders) in the Roman church to the Corinthian church, is dated by scholarly consensus to the end of the first century. In his letter, Clement explicitly refers to one of Paul’s letters to the Corinthians. Which letter to the Corinthians is made clear by his reference emphasizing the need for church unity.

Take up the epistle of the blessed Paul the Apostle. What wrote he first unto you in the beginning of the Gospel? Of a truth he charged you in the Spirit concerning himself and Cephas and Apollos, because that even then ye had made parties. Yet that making of parties brought less sin upon you; for ye were partisans of Apostles that were highly reputed, and of a man approved in their sight.

1 Clement 47:1-4. Without even comparing this passage to 1 Corinthians for linguistic parallels we see that the author knew of a letter Paul had written to the Corinthian church. Moreover, he was familiar enough with it and its occasion, that he directed the Corinthian church of his time to refer to the letter to help respond to contemporary factional disputes. As noted by Donald Hagner in a study on Clement's use of the Old and New Testaments, “Not only did both epistles have the same destination, but both were written for the same purpose: to restore order and unity to a strife-torn church.” Hagner, The Use of the Old and New Testaments in Clement of Rome, page 195. A comparison of the text of a passage from 1 Corinthians adds undeniable weight to the case for dependence on 1 Corinthians.

Now I mean this, that each one of you is saying, “I am of Paul,” and “I of Apollos,” and “I of Cephas,” and “I of Christ.” Has Christ been divided? Paul was not crucified for you, was he? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, so that no one would say you were baptized in my name.

1 Cor. 1:12-15.

Add specific references to the Pauline, Apollos, and Cephas factions in the Corinthian church in both letters combined with the context of church division and an explicit reference to a letter Paul had sent to the Corinthian church, and the case is made. In the words of the Oxford Society of Historical Theology,

It cannot be doubted that this passage refers to the First Epistle to the Corinthians; the references to Cephas and Apollos and the trouble in the Church seem to make this plain, and the conclusion is borne out by actual quotations from the Epistle.

The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers, page 41. This conclusion has been confirmed again and again by detailed examinations of Clement’s reliance on Paul’s letters. Hagner, op. cit., page 195 (“It is certain that Clement here refers to 1 Cor. 1.10ff.”), Albert Barnett, Paul Becomes a Literary Influence, page 99 (finding it “a matter of practical certainty” that Clement relies on 1 Cor. 1:11-13), Edouard Massaux, The Influence of the Gospel of Saint Matthew, page 40 (“Clement of Rome informs us himself that he knows at least one of the letters of St. Paul....”), Andrew F. Gregory, “1 Clement and the Writings that later formed the New Testament,” in The Reception of the New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers, eds. Andrew Gregory and Christopher Tuckett, page 144 (“Such clear testimony to 1 Corinthians means that this conclusion is secure....”).

An important implication of Clement's explicit reference to the above Corinthian passage is that Clement considers Paul’s letter so well-known and so authoritative that he directs another church to it in order to resolve their dispute. “It shows that Clement considered it to be self-evident that he should make use of Paul’s letter in support of his own argument; that he assumed that the letter Paul sent from forty years before is still available in the Corinthian Church; and that he saw no reason to comment on the fact that a copy of the letter already existed in Rome.” Gregory, op. cit., page 145-46. In other words, Paul was an important figure and his correspondence was considered authoritative beyond their church of destination.

Another important implication of this analysis is that the overwhelming evidence of dependence on 1 Corinthians “strengthens the likelihood” of other instances of Clement’s use of 1 Corinthians. Id. at 145. Space and time constraints prohibit a detailed examination of further examples in this post, but one and usually more of the studies referenced above also rate the following instances of dependence as certain or highly probable: 1 Cor. 12:12, 14 (1 Clem. 37:5-38.2), 1 Cor. 13:4-7 (1 Clem. 49.5), 1 Cor. 15:20, 23 (1 Clem. 24.1), 1 Cor. 15:36-37 (1 Clem. 24:4-5), 1 Cor. 1:31 (1 Clem. 13:1), 1 Cor. 2:9 (1 Clem. 34:8), 1 Cor. 13 (1 Clem 49:5). Additional correlations are considered reasonably probable.

All told, the case for 1 Clement's use of 1 Corinthians is overwhelming.

Answers to Tough Questions

RBC Ministries, the company that publishes the devotional booklet "Our Daily Bread", has undertaken to erect a website that I am certain will be useful to believers but criticized mightly by skeptics as being too limited in scope and detail. The new site is named, Answers to Tough Questions and seeks to address some difficult questions posed by the Bible.

The main categories covered thus far are: Relationships, Personal Struggles, Contemporary Issues, Ethics, World Religions, The Paranormal, The Bible, Christianity and God. Each of these categories is broken down into subcategories, and some of the subcategories are further broken down into additional sub-subcategories.

Winding through the various strata of categories, the questions that are asked are reasonable and the answers are fairly concise and useful. For example, under the subcategory of the Existence of God is the following question: "Is it inconsistent, as Richard Dawkins claims, for believers in God to look for scientific explanations of natural things, if they don’t think it is necessary to seek scientific proof of God’s existence?" Now, the answer to this question should seem obvious to all but the most hardened atheist: of course it isn't inconsistent. After all, if Richard Dawkins makes the claim there has to be a flaw in the reasoning. However, for those who want a fuller argument as to why this is not inconsistent, here is the answer provided:

This is a classic example of comparing apples to oranges. Infinite Spirit can’t be examined the same way the physical world can.

According to the Bible, the characteristics of the physical universe have been shaped by God. As the apostle Paul writes, "God’s invisible qualities—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made" (Romans 1:20). Because the natural world has been created and designed by God, it reflects His power and divine nature. However, God is of an entirely different order of being. He is not physical, but Spirit, of a higher dimension of being that encompasses our universe but which cannot be directly observed and measured by the physical sciences.

But if God can’t be directly investigated by physical science, are there no compelling reasons to believe that He exists? Someone with a naïve faith in evolution might say there are no compelling reasons, but more objective scientists acknowledge that the rational basis for God’s existence is being continually strengthened as science progresses.

Even if it could be demonstrated at some future time that evolution is a seamless natural process with no "gaps" where God can be demonstrated to supernaturally intervene, atheists have to account for the components and circumstances that make the process possible. Physicists who believe in the probability of God’s existence don’t do so because of gaps in evolutionary theory, but because of the mind-boggling, overwhelming complexity of the circumstances within which natural macroevolution would have to occur.1

The fact that circumstances of such infinite, or nearly infinite, complexity exist as the necessary background to life implies design. The idea that the universe has no origin is a counterintuitive faith assumption, as everything in our experience that is complex is derived from something more complex. It’s hard to see how Dawkins and other atheists consider it more reasonable to believe that the infinite complexity of the natural world is rooted in chance.

The existence of randomness as part of the process of evolution within the space/time universe is not—as some atheists claim—evidence against design. Randomness itself appears to be an aspect of the design, making possible the development of self-aware, free beings (such as we are). Thus the existence of randomness and freedom within the context of natural law imply a much higher order of complexity than a mere "clockwork universe."

So it isn’t unreasonable to believe in God, even if we can’t "explain" or "define" Him in scientific terms. The choices are to either take the mind-boggling complexity of a universe containing self-aware beings as mere accident, or to assume that the complexity we see within and around us is evidence of a supernatural God.

1. One of the most startling developments to come from modern physics is that the universe, in some very fundamental way, seems to have been “designed” or “tuned” to produce life and consciousness. Actually, what physicists have discovered is that there are a large number of “coincidences” inherent in the fundamental laws and constants of nature. Every one of these coincidences or specific relationships between fundamental physical parameters is needed, or the evolution of life and consciousness as we know it could not have happened. The collection of these coincidences is an undisputed fact and, collectively, have come to be known as the “Anthropic Principle.” (From the essay, “The Holistic Anthropic Principle,” by Joseph P. Provenzano and Dan R. Provenzano.)

Is this a reasonable answer? Of course it is. Is this going to satisfy the hardened atheist? Of course not. Is this site going to be criticized for its lack of depth? Of course. Is it wrong? Not obviously. Is it a good resource to use for speaking with the people in your life who are not believers but have not yet fallen into the deep intellectual abyss of the New Atheists? Definitely.

John Loftus' Research -- or Lack Thereof -- into the Empty Tomb

A favored tactic of John Loftus is to try and play Christian scholars off against each other. Consistent with this tactic, in his book, Why I Became an Atheist, John Loftus leads off his assault on the empty tomb with this assertion:

Several mainline Christian scholars, both Catholic and Protestant, argue against the empty tomb, including C.H. Dodd, Rudolf Bultmann, Raymond Brown, Reginald Fuller, Hans Kung, Karl Rahner, D.H. Nineham, along with many others.

Ibid., page 365.

Loftus provides no citations to support this assertion. When I read this passage while thumbing through his book, the listing of Raymond Brown quickly caught my attention. A moderate Catholic scholar, I seemed to remember that he was at the very least sympathetic to the empty tomb story. I did some research and confirmed my initial reaction, but because I had not read everything written by R. Brown and scholars sometimes modify their positions, I e-mailed John Loftus in April 2009. I asked for his basis in listing Raymond Brown.

Loftus responded that he would check on his information and get back to me. When I did not hear back from Loftus for over two months, I e-mailed him again and asked if he had found a source regarding Raymond Brown. By this time I had also become curious about his inclusion of C.H. Dodd on the list, another moderate Christian scholar who I was surprised to see listed as someone who "argued against the empty tomb." Accordingly, I also asked Loftus if he could provide a source for C.H. Dodd. Loftus replied that he could not find any support for listing either on the list but insisted that "[a] reliable source led me to mention their names, but I failed to research it myself."

I asked Loftus who the reliable source was and why he trusted this source so much that he did not research himself the claims he was making in his book, but Loftus has not responded to my query. I did some google searches to see if anyone else had made such a claim and the closet I found was an assertion by J. Shelby Spong:

If the resurrection of Jesus cannot be believed except by assenting to the fantastic descriptions included in the Gospels, then Christianity is doomed.... If that were the requirement of belief as a Christian, then I would sadly leave my house of faith. With me in that exodus from the Christian church, however, would be every ranking New Testament scholar in the world--Catholic and Protestant alike: E. C. Hoskyns, C. H. Dodd, Rudolf Bultmann, Reginald Fuller, Joseph Fitzmyer, W. E. Albright, Raymond Brown, Paul Minear, R. H. Lightfoot, Herman Hendrickx, Edward Schillebeeckx, Hans Kung, Karl Rahner, Phyllis Trible, Jane Schaberg, D. H. Nineham, Maurice Goguel, and countless others.

John Shelby Spong, Resurrection: Myth or Reality? A Bishop's Search for the Origins of Christianity, page 238 (as cited by a couple of skeptical online articles).

All of the pertinent scholars are mentioned as is the claim about "Catholic and Protestant" scholars being represented. However, the assertion does not address the empty tomb but the resurrection as recounted in the gospels and it includes scholars that Loftus did not mention by name. So this is suggestive but perhaps there was a mediating "source" for Loftus. Only he can say. In any event, whether originally descended from Spong or elsewhere, the question is whether there is substance to Loftus' particular assertion.

I have spent more time reviewing the claims packed into the statement at issue and believe it contains two significantly problematic assertions. The first is that all of these scholars argue "against the empty tomb." I take this to mean, as it plainly states, that these scholars are not advocates for the empty tomb nor are they agnostic on the issue. That is, for Loftus to be right in his characterization, each scholar must affirmatively argue that the empty tomb was a legend or has no historical basis. It is not sufficient that they say that we do not or cannot know whether the empty tomb story is historical. The second problem is Loftus' assertion that all of the scholars listed are "mainline Christian scholars" of the Protestant or Catholic variety. I take this to mean that they are at least loosely orthodox in their adherence to either tradition, though not necessarily inerrantists or conservative in their doctrine.

So far as I have been able to tell, at least three of the scholars listed by Loftus advance arguments in favor of the historicity of the empty tomb though they may not think such a conclusion is certain: R. Brown, C.H. Dodd, and Reginald Fuller. A fourth, Karl Rahner, contends that the empty tomb tradition is very early but is less than specific about his ultimate conclusion on its historicity. In any event, he does not seem to argue "against the empty tomb." I am open to correction, of course, and would appreciate any clarifying citations from any of these scholars.

R. Brown adduces many arguments in favor of the historicity of the empty tomb in The Virginal Conception & Bodily Resurrection of Jesus. Brown rejects the notion that the empty tomb was invented for apologetic purposes, observes that "our earliest traces of Jewish apologetics against the resurrection do not reject the empty tomb," and contends that "were the story entirely an apologetic invention, women would not have been chosen as the ones to discover the tomb, since their testimony would have less public authority." Ibid., page 122 n. 204. The meat of Brown's case is his contention that it is "reasonably certain that either the tomb was not known, or that, if known, it was empty." Ibid., page 126. The answer to R. Brown is the latter because he spends a substantial amount of time -- in this book and in his later epic work The Death of the Messiah -- arguing that the tomb of Jesus was known because the story of Joseph of Arimethea is historical in its essentials. As he states in The Virginal Conception, Brown notes that "an almost insuperable obstacle" to the notion that the location of Jesus' burial was unknown is "the person of Joseph of Arimathea who appears in all four gospels. It is virtually certain that he was not a figment of Christian imagination...." Ibid., page 113.

C.H. Dodd also advances arguments in favor of the historicity of the empty tomb. "I should be disposed to conclude that while the general tradition held that Christ 'rose from the dead' (commonly understood to mean that he emerged from the tomb in which his body had been laid) it preserved also a genuine memory that on that Sunday morning his tomb was found broken open and to all appearance empty. At first the discovery was disconcerting and incomprehensible; later it was understood to mean that Jesus had in some way left his tomb. Whether this meaning was rightly attached to it, and if so in what sense, is another question, and one which lies no longer in the sphere of the historian. He may properly suspend judgment." Dodd, The Founder of Christianity, Chapter 9 (available online) (emphasis added).

R. Fuller argues that the empty tomb "belongs to the primary stratum of Gospel tradition despite its absence from Paul." The Formation of the Resurrection Narratives, page 179. Fuller contends that the story of Mary Magdalene visiting the tomb, finding the stone rolled away and the tomb empty "stands right at the beginning of the history of the tradition and is doubtless very early." Ibid., page 56. He acknowledges that Paul does not narrate or proclaim the empty tomb, but contends that "a resurrection from the grave is implied by the statement, 'God raised Jesus,' since the apocalypitic conception of resurrection is precisely resurrection from the grave." Ibid., page 49. Fuller concludes that the women thought they found an empty tomb, but whether "the women's story was based on fact, or was the result of a mistake or illusion, is in the last resort a matter of theological indifference. The historian will never known the answer to this question."

Next is Karl Rahner, a leading Catholic theologian influential at the Second Vatican Council. I have not found any evidence that he "argued against the empty tomb." He may have thought -- at times -- that it was irrelevant to the more important theological issue of its significance, whether literal or other. In Incarnation and Resurrection: Toward a Contemporary Understanding, Paul Molnar notes the following:

Rahner does not have much to say about the empty tomb. In his Theological Investigations he expresses the belief that it is part of the oldest NT tradition and he also states that the empty tomb is "an expression of a conviction which had already spread for other reasons -- the conviction that Jesus was alive." (TI:17.20).

Ibid., page 143 (emphasis added). Although K. Rahner's theological writings leave it unclear whether he believes history is required and where belief is sufficient, I have not found any reference to him arguing against the historicity of the empty tomb. Rather he thought it part of the "oldest" New Testament tradition. It appears, therefore, that Loftus' listing of K. Rahner was erroneous as well though not as egregious as the previous three scholars.

But how about the rest?

R. Bultmann and H. Kung clearly argue "against the empty tomb" in the sense that they deny there is any historical basis to the narrative. However, as Loftus should have known, neither can be called a "mainline Christian scholar" with a straight face. Not while doing any justice to those terms.

R. Bultmann was a German theologian. His goal -- notably presented in his lecture New Testament and Mythology: The Problem of Demythologizing the New Testament Message -- was to "demythologize" Christianity by stamping out any supernatural elements attributable to the primitive mythological barnacles of the first century Jewish mindset. (A helpful review of R. Bultmann's theology is provided here). This included rejecting any accounts of miracles, including the resurrection. It is clear, therefore, that Bultmann had theological reasons for denying the empty tomb. It should have been clear to Loftus that R. Bultmann, with his "Christianity" excised of all supernatural elements, could not fairly be classified as a "mainline Christian scholar."

Nor does Hans Kung qualify. Although Kung was a Catholic theologian at one point his rejection of so many basic doctrines compelled the Catholic Church to revoke his status as such and remove him from his professorship. Far from being a mainline Catholic, he rejected core Catholic and Christian doctrines and was ashamed of the Catholic Church:

[T]he Sacred Congregation waited only seventy-two hours after his trial before condemning another progressive theologian, fifty-one-year-old Hans Küng. Because of his "contempt for the magisterium of the Church" on the issue of papal infallibility—expressed most recently in his Kirche—Gehalten in der Wahrheit?—as well as on the issues of the divinity of Jesus and the virginity of Mary, the Congregation declared Küng barred from his chair of dogma and ecumenical theology at the State University, Tübingen, in West Germany. "I am deeply ashamed of my church," he told reporters, and a day after the decree was announced he defied the Pope by holding a public lecture in which he told two thousand cheering supporters that he would fight the Holy See's Lehrverbot.

(bold added).

This leaves D.H. Nineham. I have uncovered little about Nineham other than he was a British theologian described as liberal. This obviously does not mean that he argued "against the empty tomb," but it is possible. I would appreciate any information on his views on the empty tomb or even more generally about historicity and the Christian faith.

All told, it appears that Loftus misrepresented the arguments or theological positions of at least 6 out of 7 of the scholars he relies on. They either advance arguments in favor of the empty tomb, claim it is part of the earliest NT tradition, or cannot fairly be characterized as "mainline Christian scholars." Although I am open to correction or clarification of their views, it seems clear that Loftus -- at the very least -- did not do his homework. How could he get the views and dispositions of so many scholars wrong in such a short space? Who or what is the "reliable source" that provided him with this list? How many other arguments in this book and elsewhere has he accepted from such other sources without doing any of his own research?

Addendum: It is unclear whether Loftus intended to include Uta Ranke-Heinemann in his list of "mainline Christian scholars." Just after referring to "along with many others" Loftus quotes her as arguing against the empty tomb. Ranke-Heinemann was a professor of Catholic theology and there is no doubt that she rejected the empty tomb. She also rejected the virgin birth. Because of her literally unorthodox views, she was excommunicated. So she could not be fairly characterized as a "mainline Christian scholar."

Pliny the Younger Distinguishing Fiction and History

I recently began reading Literary Texts and the Roman Historian, by David S. Potter. He begins by quoting a letter Pliny the Younger had written to a friend:

I heard a true story, but one that seemed like fiction, and one worthy of your broad, deep, and plainly poetical genius. I heard it at a dinner party when various extraordinary stories were being passed back and forth. I trust the person who told it, although what is true to poets? Still, the person who told the story is one of whom you might think well if you were to write history.

Literary Texts and the Roman Historian, page 5 (citing Pliny the Younger, 9.33.1).

What I found interesting is the distinction Pliny draws between "fiction" and "history." As Potter writes, "What is perhaps most interesting is the conceptual framework within which Pliny introduced the story. Reliability is defined in terms of dichotomy between poetry and historia, forms of narrative that are at the opposite ends of the spectrum of narrative representation. Pliny's framework is worth thinking about because it rests upon two assumptions: that history will be "true" and that the expression of this "truth" will be in the form of a narrative." Id. Although ancient authors could blur the lines or fail to live up to their own standards, just as they can today, Pliny demonstrates a desire to pursue history as truth rather than as simply useful or exemplary fiction.

Tacitus' Other Reference to Early Christianity?

Tacitus' reference to Christians in relation to Nero's persecution, including a reference to Jesus as the founder who was executed "by sentence of the procurator Pontius Pilate," has been widely discussed. Annals 15.44. Its authenticity is a settled question among academics and historians. Less well known, however, is a possible second reference to Christians by Tacitus. The gaps in the manuscript traditions leaves ample room for such a reference. The manuscript tradition for Annals is incomplete, ending around 66 AD -- well before resolution of the Jewish Revolt and the destruction of Jerusalem. Tacitus' Histories is likewise incomplete, ending in early 70 A.D. when it is believed to have recorded events through 96 A.D.

As is usual for ancient writings, fragments of Tacitus survive beyond and outside the manuscript tradition in secondary sources who cited his works, including Annals and Histories. One such fragment may be found in the writings of Sulpicius Severus, a Christian writer born in the mid-fourth century. His best known work is Chronicle or Sacred History, written in 403 A.D. According to Louis Feldman, "most scholars have . . . adopted the suggestion of Bernays that Sulpicius's source was none other than a lost portion of Tacitus' Histories." Feldman, Studies in Hellenistic Judaism, page 2. James D. Dunn suggests that the citation may come from the lost portion of Annals, noting that it "breaks off in book 16, when his account had reached the year 66, before the outbreak of the Jewish revolt." Beginning from Jerusalem, page 58, n. 25.

Here is the reference:

Titus is said, after calling a council, to have first deliberated whether he should destroy the temple, a structure of such extraordinary work. For it seemed good to some that a sacred edifice, distinguished above all human achievements, ought not to be destroyed, inasmuch as, if preserved, it would furnish an evidence of Roman moderation, but, if destroyed, would serve for a perpetual proof of Roman cruelty. But on the opposite side, others and Titus himself thought that the temple ought specially to be overthrown, in order that the religion of the Jews and of the Christians might more thoroughly be subverted; for that these religions, although contrary to each other, had nevertheless proceeded from the same authors; that the Christians had sprung up from among the Jews; and that, if the root were extirpated, the offshoot would speedily perish.

2.30.6-7.

Severus notes that "it is said" ("it is reported" in other translations) by someone about the council involving Titus and the decision to destroy the Temple. This strongly suggests that Severus is relying on an earlier source. Although Severus does not identify the author of his source, this is not at all unusual for the time or genre. We know that Severus is otherwise familiar with Tacitus' Annals and quotes the passage referring to the Neronian persecution of Christians in the passage just prior to the one at issue (2.29). Notably, in the previous section Severus does not explicitly reference Tacitus as his source. So, there is no reason to expect him to have done so here.

Further, Severus relies elsewhere on Josephus but does not do so here. The passage at issue directly contradicts Josephus' account. Josephus reports that Titus opposed the destruction of the Temple. Severus' source reports that Titus supported the destruction of the Temple. Why divert from Josephus here unless he had good reason to do so? And if he was not relying on Josephus for his source then who? The inclusion of an account of the same council in Tacitus provides some reason for the departure, the fact that such an account refers to Christians whereas Josephus makes no such reference provides another. Moreover, Tacitus almost certainly wrote about the destruction of the Temple and had good sources for the period. Finally, a number of studies have shown that the language used by Severus in this passage is consistent with and may be indicative of Tacitus' style. (The first such study was by Jacob Bernays in 1861. More recently see Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, Ed. M. Stern, Vol. 2, pages 64-67). For these kinds of reasons, most historians have concluded that the passage is indeed a fragment from Tacitus' lost writings.

I would add that the passage fits well with the historical context and Tacitus' earlier reference to Christians. Tacitus and other Romans were aware that Christianity had its origins in Judea and Judaism. But they also appear to have understood that Christianity was somehow different. Further, Tacitus and the Romans viewed Christianity with disfavor, even though it was "contrary" to Judaism, which was also often viewed with disfavor. These elements are found in the passage at issue: Titus knows that Christianity has its origins in Judaism but that the two religions by this time were in conflict. Obviously Christianity is viewed with disfavor as its destruction is a matter of state policy.

There is no suggestion in the passage that Christians are linked directly to the Jewish Revolt. Christianity is not just another sect within Judaism like the Zealots or the Pharisees, but another religion whose origins are Jewish but that is "contrary" to Judaism. Moreover, there is no suggestion that Titus believes that the destruction of the Temple will itself be a deathblow to Christianity. Although it would be going too far to credit Titus or other Roman officials with a sophisticated understanding of the differences between Christianity and Judaism at the time, they may have known that Christianity -- at least as known outside of Judea -- was not dependent on the Temple. The strategy seems to be that destroying the Temple will shatter Judaism and that, "if the root were extirpated, the offshoot would speedily perish." In any event, to the extent that Titus and the Romans had contact with Christianity in Judea, it is possible that -- consistent with the portrayal of the Jerusalem Church in Acts -- they learned that the Temple played some role in the lives of Jewish Christians in the area.

Conflict in science and theology: an analysis and critique, part I

When I first came to college I was sure I wanted to be a theoretical physicist. I took the most advanced introductory classes in mechanics and electromagnetism along with multivariable calculus, linear algebra and differential equations and was on my way to classical and quantum mechanics when I realized that I was more interested in the 'big' questions traditionally addressed by philosophy and theology: why is the world the way it is, what makes science possible, what is the place of human beings in the Universe? I decided to major in religion, but my interest in science did not abate, and I continued to explore my interests in neuroscience, computer science and philosophy of mind. The goal that drove my investigations was to achieve an integration of the best science and the best theology in an intellectually rigorous yet spiritually satisfying worldview. That goal still animates me, as it does some of the greatest scientists alive today (not coincidentally also those who have actually wrestled with philosophy and theology instead of just dismissing them as 'metaphysical hand-waving').

That commitment implies eschewing simplistic construals of the interaction of science and theology. Both are hugely complex social and intellectual phenomena with a rich and varied history of conflict, tension, cooperation and mutual support. This much is well established by historical investigation. The steady retreat of theology before the relentless advance of materialistic science is a myth, part of the story that early modern philosophes told in order to advance their socio-political agendas. It is easy to understand from a psychological point of view why adherents of a particular worldview would like to claim the prestige of being 'scientific', given science's enormous instrumental success and its connotations of being objective, universal and (relatively) certain knowledge. But despite atheist materialism's rhetoric the truth is that this materialism did not gain any further legitimacy due to the advance of science than it already had, and too many failed metaphysics (such as Comte's 'religion of humanity', eugenics, Marxism, etc.) have claimed the title of 'scientific' for that boast to be taken seriously, at least without a lot of detailed historical and philosophical argumentation.

But this commitment also implies eschewing the simplistic, evasive and/or triumphalist rhetoric of some believers. History shows that while conflict between science and religion was not inevitable, nevertheless it did break out on occasion. Whenever believers of any traditional affiliation make empirical claims (for example, by predicting the exact date when Christ will return to Earth or arguing that the Universe is only 6,000 years old) they expose themselves to the possibility of being proven wrong. The advance of empirical science CAN make certain worldviews seem increasingly implausible. It's no wonder that ancient Greek religion, for example, with its insistence that the gods lived on Mount Olympus is no longer a live option, because anyone can go up to the summit and see that there is no temple, no dwelling place of the immortals (arguably this is not an instance of empirical science per se rendering such beliefs implausible, because it is simply a matter of observation; this only shows how difficult it is to demarcate science from other human intellectual activity, as we will see).

Nevertheless, in this brief essay I want to argue that there is no genuine conflict whatsoever between empirical science and a properly nuanced Christian theism, where by genuine conflict I mean a tension that makes adherence to both at the same time rationally impermissible or even suspect. On the contrary, I find a very fruitful and satisfying consilience between them and both contribute immensely to my overall worldview. To accomplish this I will examine the different levels of interaction at which conflict is alleged to arise and show that in each case the conflict is either 1) real but not very momentous, 2) real but based on a conflict at a metaphysical rather than scientific level or 3) illusory, the product of misleading rhetoric from one side or the other.

There are two main levels at which science and theology can come into conflict: the level of content and the level of method. We'll examine each in turn, focusing on content issues in this post.

It seems pretty clear that particular facts or theories of science can directly conflict with particular religious beliefs about the world. For example, our best science shows the age of the Universe to vastly exceed 6,000 years. For anyone who believes, based on a certain interpretation of the Bible, that the Universe is 6,000 years old, there is a direct conflict between their religious beliefs and our best science. What should be noted here is that this kind of conflict, while real, is of little significance for most believers, because a belief about the exact age of the Earth is peripheral in their web of belief, not central. There are few sophisticated believers who will say that, if the Earth is more than 6,000 years old, our faith is in vain. The same arguably goes for a great many other particular empirical facts, like the historicity of Adam and Eve, the exact mechanism of cloud formation or the shape of the Earth. What we often find in these cases of direct empirical conflict is that Christians (and Israelites or other peoples before them) have unconsciously assimilated the understanding of their immediate cultural environment to their theology. So if the author of Genesis 1 understood the heavens to be a literally solid 'vault', with holes in it to let light through being the sun, moon and stars (as Baruch Halpern argues), that was just the cultural framework from which he gave expression to his belief that God was the creator and orderer of all things, just as Christians today can express the same beliefs in the context of modern cosmology.

The upshot is that central theological affirmations, such as belief in God as creator of heaven and earth, have a very tenuous connection to specific empirical facts: it is very hard to specify which exact set of empirical facts would be compatible or incompatible with that affirmation. For example, some Christians think the multiverse hypothesis is clearly inconsistent with divine creation (see William Dembski, The End of Christianity, pp.32-33), while others think it provides a remarkable illustration and confirmation of divine plenitude and generosity (see Nancey Murphy and Robin Collins). It is not at all clear that the doctrine of human beings made in the image of God demands a particular metaphysical conception of human nature (such as dualism). But in this Christian theology does not differ from any other metaphysic, including physicalism, which has a notorious problem with defining what it means by 'the physical' in giving particular content to its worldview and how it relates to current or future science (known as Hempel's dilemma). Problems like these have led many philosophers to propose that the facts of empirical science underdetermine the range of metaphysical views compatible with it. As Eric Reitan puts it,

"The deeper question [in the science-religion discussion] is whether scientific discovery speaks to a particular metaphysics--whether what we now know about the empirical world tells us that a naturalistic/materialistic metaphysics is the most plausible one. Here, the historical fact that naturalism has emerged alongside science is insufficient. The methodolical naturalism of science--the focus on looking for naturalistic explanations for empirical phenomena--might slide readily into a metaphysical naturalism, but the explanation would be psychological rather than logical."

To illustrate the complex interplay between empirical science and metaphysics, consider another, more serious case of conflict between science and theology: the alleged impossibility of divine action (or even mind-body interaction in the case of substance dualism) due to its conflict with our understanding of the laws of nature. The claim is not just that divine action would be unusual in the context of our perception of the regularity of nature; it is that we have knowledge of certain universal laws that absolutely define the range of possible behavior of matter, and exclude the deliberate action of a divine agent. One formulation of this claim involves the principle of conservation of energy. If energy cannot be created or destroyed, how can God act in the physical world without violating this law in such a way that we could detect it empirically? The problem, however, is that a universal interpretation of the law of conservation of energy goes well beyond what empirical science tells us. COE is an example of a symmetry or invariance principle that places constraints on acceptable physical theories. The great theoretical physicist Eugene Wigner argued that "the spatiotemporal invariance principles play the role of a prerequisite for the very possibility of discovering the laws of nature." However, as Brading and Castellani point out, "Wigner's starting point...does not imply exact symmetries — all that is needed epistemologically is that the global symmetries hold approximately, for suitable spatiotemporal regions, such that there is sufficient stability and regularity in the events for the laws of nature to be discovered." Similarly, Robert Bishop argues that the causal closure of the physical-which states roughly that physical events have their chances of occurence fixed by purely physical causes-is at best a typicality condition of modern physics, which tells us what happens in the absence of any non-physical influences.

Thus a Christian can perfectly well affirm the regularity of nature as described by science which accounts for its spectacular instrumental success (and which is also affirmed on theological grounds, as in Matt 5:45: "For [God] makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.") without thereby being committed to an understanding the laws of nature that excludes the possibility of miracles. One intruiging possibility for conceiving of miracles in the context of modern science arises by analogy with the relation between Newtonian and relativistic mechanics. Just as the former holds approximately in a certain range of conditions (namely where objects are neither very massive or moving very fast), so we can understand the laws of nature that we have so far discovered as holding approximately, to the best of our knowledge, in a certain range of conditions, while the true order of the world, which is divine, includes those laws as a subset of the more comprehensive order God has established to accomplish His will.

Of course some believers will insist that a larger set of empirical facts is necessary for the plausibility of Christian belief, perhaps including the historicity of Adam, the fall of Jericho and others. For those believers, the undermining of those facts by historical investigation will cause cognitive dissonance and strain their plausibility structures. But it is worth pointing out that these problems are a result, not strictly of empirical scientific investigation into the structure of the world (except in a few cases like the age of the Earth), but of application of more general investigative principles. It is considerations like these that Philip Kitcher has in mind when he argues that the conflict between science and religion arises not primarily due to difficulties in one isolated area of investigation, but as a result of investigations in a wide range of fields, including natural science, biblical studies, comparative religion, etc. (see his essay 'The Many-Sided Conflict Between Science and Religion' in The Blackwell Guide to the Philosophy of Religion, pp. 266-282, and his recent book Living With Darwin; for a critical review of the latter, see here) This is not so much a conflict between theology and empirical science as a (potential) conflict between a Christian worldview and the totality of evidence from human experience. Of course, the latter is the BIG question on which the rationality of Christian belief hinges. But a simple appeal to natural science is not enough to substantiate Kitcher's challenge. What's more, as long as the set of empirical facts necessary for the plausibility of Christian belief is controversial even among Christians themselves, it is hard to see how one can argue that theology and science are incompatible at the level of content. The central points of empirical contention, such as the empty tomb and the resurrection appearances, are the same as they always have been. Modern science did nothing to change the terms of that debate, unless to contribute dubious hallucination hypotheses for the use of hyper-critical bible scholars.

Please can I call atheists stupid, ignorant and immature now?

I generally try to give people the benefit of the doubt even if their religious views strongly differ from mine. I assume that they are honest, intelligent, genuine seekers of the truth with real questions about the world and (possibly) God. I don't like stereotyping and over-generalizing.

But these replies (in the comments section) to a mock request for questions addressed to the deity make me seriously question my general assessment of the intelligence of atheists. I'd like to think even people like Hume and Russell would cringe at this kind of self-indulgent silliness.