Threads from Henry's Web

Tag: Bart Ehrman

  • Book Notes: God’s Problem (Ehrman)

    Ehrman, Bart D. God’s Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question-Why We Suffer. New York: HarperCollins, 2008. ISBN: 978-0-06-117397-4. 294 pp.

    I have previously noted that Bart Ehrman’s books are much more controversial on their jackets than on their pages (see notes on The Lost Gospel of Judas Iscariot and Response to Misquoting Jesus). This is not to say that there is nothing controversial. Rather, well-known issues are stated in a stark and controversial way.

    This book is no exception to this prior experience. I was both amused and annoyed that my copy from the library had been “annotated” by some previous user. That always annoys me, because defacing library books is vandalism and I don’t like it. But the form it took is interesting.

    On the title page the words “fails to” are crossed out of the subtitle, and and “s” is added to “answer” to that it says “How the Bible Answers Our Most Important Question.” Then there is a note that says simply “sin, In the 1st Book Genesis 3.” Of course, as any competent scholar would, Ehrman covers the role of sin in human suffering according to various Biblical authors.

    In the conclusion he also notes how people are divided between two groups. Those who announce their answer as though it was conclusive and obvious, as this annotator did, and those who really don’t want to discuss the topic at all.

    I have thought a great deal about the problem of suffering and am willing to talk about it a great deal, but I don’t actually think I have any very good answers. It was interesting to me that neither Ehrman nor I will give a definitive answer, but we have a certain amount of affinity for similar answers. The bottom line for me is simply, “That’s the way the universe works.”

    Of course there is also suffering caused by human evil, so the “sin” solution is certainly a part of suffering. But any of these leaves one with the question of just how God fits in. And there I would differ with Ehrman considerably. The problem of suffering itself is one thing; one can even ask the question why we should not suffer. The problem of suffering when one also believes in a “good” God is another matter entirely.

    And that’s why the book is titled “God’s Problem.” On one level this is simply a summary of how the various Bible writers answer the question of why we suffer. On another, it is Dr. Ehrman’s journey in dealing with the fact that we do suffer and the implications of that fact for our understanding of God. Some may dislike the idea of mixing one’s personal experience with a book of scholarship, even a popular one. I would disagree. I think the personal reflections, however much they differ from my own, enhance the book and help one to connect the various scriptural responses to real life.

    Let me look at these two levels separately. It was interesting to read this book nearly simultaneously with Bruce Waltke’s An Old Testament Theology. The books differ a great deal in size, intended audience, style, and the level of presentation, yet they very clearly illustrate a significant divide in Biblical scholarship. Do we look try to see the scriptures as ultimately unified, and thus reconcile apparent differences theologically or do we lay out those difficulties as starkly as possible?

    That question outlines extremes. There are many variations along the way, including a kind of unity in diversity. I like to refer to the unity of a large river system, rather than that of a carefully delineated pathway. But Waltke approaches the Bible as a unity to be brought into subjection to his christology, while Ehrman sees the Bible as many individual schools of thought and tends to demarcate these schools rather strictly.

    As an outline, I’m rather happy with Ehrman’s work. He points out what the major positions are. I think there could be some more work done on seeing how those positions might coexist. For example, the view that suffering is a punishment for sin can co-exist with the apocalyptic view that sees suffering as something inflicted by evil forces. I know people in real life who will respond with either of these options according to the circumstances. They don’t always have any logic other than whether they feel that a particular person is deserving of “discipline” or is demonstrating strength as they face the forces of evil.

    Scholars tend to try to keep things more logically disciplined than that, which is probably a good attitude for a scholar to have. But it can get in the way of describing real people who are quite frequently a great deal messier.

    In particular, I question some of Ehrman’s work on Job. I think he takes a view on Job that would require the final redactor to be some sort of idiot. See my notes on this on my Participatory Bible Study Blog.

    Those who would be very critical of Ehrman’s approach, however, should consider the almost casual way theologians often try to brush aside such objections. I did not include this topic in my notes on his book, but Waltke brushes aside major issues in this fashion, particularly when talking about genocide in Joshua.

    There he dismisses the problem by suggesting that those who were willing to repent and convert, such as Rahab were subject to destruction, while those in Israel who failed to maintain the standards, such as Achan, were also destroyed. Many people, myself included, would not see a “convert or die” approach as substantially more acceptable than genocide. In fact, any theory of inspiration that does not take adequate account of human failings and ideas runs aground on this problem. If God in fact said “kill them all, even babies” and intended this as a good thing, then God is monstrous. It is possible that God allowed them to think that, because that was what they were inclined to do. It is sufficiently difficult to explain God allowing such a thing, much less explaining why he would positively demand it.

    Yet of course the text says that God did just that. For me, that is a strong sign of how the Bible deals with people, still steeped in the culture and moral standards of the time, struggling with what God would have them to do. This is an aspect of the problem that Ehrman only touches on as part of the punishment for sin view.

    As for Ehrman, just as I noted in my review of his book Misquoting Jesus, I think he responds largely to a fairly conservative evangelical view of Biblical inspiration, such as would be espoused by Waltke. I don’t mean that a bit of adjustment in one’s view of inspiration solves all the problems. Hardly! But it does make the discussion much more interesting and offer more avenues for a solution.

    And this is where we come to the more personal issue. While I did not go on to get a doctoral degree, nor have I written such popular books, I really empathize with Ehrman’s experience. I came out of seminary with a “this can’t be” kind of feeling, and departed the faith at that point. Twelve years later I came back, but to a much more liberal theology. I came to the realization that I did believe in God, however much I might prefer not to, and thus I would have to deal more with my concept of God.

    I’m not trying to present my position as the better option, though obviously I prefer it since it’s mine! But if I’m to believe that the physical universe reveals its creator, then I have to be willing to adjust either the adjectives I use in referring to God or the meanings of those adjectives. In general, it may be more honest to use different adjectives.

    That’s why I have written that God is more interested in freedom than comfort. Ehrman discusses the “freedom of the will” explanation for suffering, though he correctly points out that the Bible isn’t that much concerned with such an explanation, and also that it fails to deal with natural disasters that are chosen by nobody. At the same time the Bible does address this issue from the direction of responsibility. Sin comes through one man and thus death (Romans 5:12). But the Bible tends to lay responsibility without really acknowledging freedom, something that puts Paul into contortions in chapter 9, from which he extracts himself (if one is generous) by breaking into a bit of doxology.

    By freedom, however, I mean something more than freedom of choice. Rather, God constrains the universe within laws rather than directing particulars. God didn’t want Hurricane Ike to destroy so many homes on the gulf coast; he wanted each hurricane to behave as hurricanes do. If you want to see God as loving, you also have to see him as willing to allow hurricanes to be hurricanes.

    Is that a solution? All I can say is that it works for me, but I know plenty of people, my wife being one, who do not find that very satisfying. I found it interesting that Dr. Ehrman and his wife also differ, more profoundly than I do with my wife, on the very issues involved.

    The bottom line here is that I deeply appreciate this effort to discuss such a difficult problem, and to relate it to one’s personal struggle. I disagree substantially with the conclusions, but largely because I start with different premises. My belief in God, with the kernel being “ground of all being” (Tillich) is fundamental, while my concept of God is more flexible. I’m much less likely to say, “I see that my old concept of God won’t fit with the suffering in the world, so there must not be a God” than to say, “My concept of God doesn’t fit with the suffering in the world, so I must have misunderstood God.”

    That difference is personal and experiential at root, I think, and would be very hard to reconcile. It lies way too far outside the realm of “mostly certain” knowledge. In the meantime, you could do worse than to read this book and see how it helps you think about the problem of suffering.

  • Review: The Lost Gospel of Judas Iscariot

    Bart Ehrman’s books tend to get quite a bit of hype around them, but when one actually reads them, one finds the work of a fine, generally balanced scholar. This is true of The Lost Gospel of Judas Iscariot, as it was of Misquoting Jesus, which I reviewed early in a series of posts. Ben Witherington is fairly hard on Ehrman, referring to that same book, and stating that he goes well beyond his evidence (What Have They Done with Jesus?, pp. 6-7). If one goes by he cover, that is likely true, but I would say that the actual contents are much better, both in terms of nuanced claims and of evidence. (I’ve begun blogging through Witherington’s book here.)

    The bottom line is that this is a well-written book, easy to follow, and covering the most essential material. I rarely read a book on a discovery like this one without wishing that the author had spent less time on some things and more on others. Ehrman manages to include enough of the story of discovery to give the flavor. He summarizes the document well, and then looks at its implications.

    Many popular discussions–by which I mean non-scholars discussing the Gospel of Judas–get the focus and implications entirely wrong. It is natural for 21st century westerners to immediately turn to issues of the historical Jesus, and of course the historical Judas. But the fact is that the Gospel of Judas gives us very little additional information on that issue. It is later than the canonical gospels, though earlier than most non-canonical gospels, and it has even less emphasis on historical events.

    But it does have a significant impact on our understanding of early Christianity in its various forms and on gnosticism. That is what could be expected, and it is also what was actually found. Ehrman makes these facts pretty clear.

    He starts by providing us a narrative framework for his own exposure to the gospel which serves to help us understand the process of discovery and preservation (or lack of it) that goes into bringing this type of manuscript to publication. This preface and first chapter illustrates some of the difficulties in dealing with ancient artifacts. Fortunately, unlike most items such as ossuaries, pieces of pottery, and so forth, a printed text retains a good deal of its value even without a well-established provenance.

    The second chapter continues by telling us what is already known about Judas Iscariot and how this is known, as well as discussing the various perspectives on Judas. This is followed in chapter three by a discussion of later Christian literature and its perspective. These two chapters are valuable in demonstrating how a story can grow and change shape over centuries of use. Chapter 4 then tells us what was known previously about the Gospel of Judas in order to prepare for the discovery of the actual text, and chapter 5 finishes the story of the discovery.

    Chapters 6-8 get to the heart of the matter and tell what we learn from the text itself, and how that fits into our understanding of early Christian gnosticism. Ehrman provides good context and well done summaries. He also covers a variety of views on gnosticism. The result is about the best one could hope for in the space allotted.

    Finally, in chapters 9-10 we get what many were probably looking for in the first place–a discussion of the historical Judas, and it turns out that the Gospel of Judas has practically nothing to say about this at all. Ehrman follows with an excellent summary of how historical study is done using ancient manuscripts and other material, and then applies those methods to Jesus and Judas Iscariot. He finds frustratingly little that one can say with certainty, but he is very clear about how he comes to those conclusions. Those interested in the historical Jesus could do worse than to read his summary of the methodology involved.

    Despite the limited historical conclusions about Judas, Ehrman regards the Gospel of Judas as very historically important. Its importance is to the history of early Christianity. In the final chapter he kind of rounds up what has been implied earlier. There are two extremes in views of the history of early Christianity. One holds that a single orthodoxy came from Jesus and the apostles. There were numerous heresies that broke off and threatened the true faith, but ultimately truth (orthodoxy) prevailed. Thus while there may have been disputes, these were either minor ones amongst friends, or fights between truth and error.

    The other extreme represents Christianity as spreading from its origin point in Jerusalem and presumably Galilee in many variations as various groups of disciples did their best to understand Jesus and what he meant. Orthodoxy is “orthodox” because it represents the winning viewpoint, not because it has some ultimate claim to being the most genuine. Ehrman plainly represents the second of these views and sees the Gospel of Judas in that light.

    While I am not fully in agreement with Ehrman on all points, I think this is an exceptionally good popular level book and a good introduction to the meaning of the Gospel of Judas. It doesn’t require any substantial background, because Ehrman provides a clear context throughout.