Loading...I decided recently to reread my book Forged: Writing in the Name of God; How the Bible’s Authors Are Not Who We Think They Are (which, in my view, has one too many titles….). It was a surprise: I really didn’t remember a good bit of the opening part. And oh boy, I liked it better than I expected (usually when you read your old stuff you just roll your eyes). One of the theses of the book is that even in the ancient world, people thought that if someone wrote a book claiming to be a famous author (when they were someone else) was seen as a form of lying.
I start the book with my own relation to lying and truth. I’m sure you have your own stories to tell. Here’s part of mine:
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On a bright sunny day in June, when I was fourteen years old, my mom told me that she and my dad were going out to play a round of golf. I did a quick calculation in my head. It would take them twenty minutes to get to the country club, about four hours to play eighteen holes, a bit of down time and then a drive home. I had five hours.
I called up my friend Ron down the street to tell him my parents would be gone all afternoon, and that I had snuck a couple of cigars out of my dad’s consistently full stash. Ron liked what I was thinking and said that he had cobbed a few cans of malt liquor and hidden them out in his bushes. The joys of paradise opened before us.
When Ron came over we headed upstairs to my bedroom where we threw open the windows, lit up the cigars, popped the cans of brew, and settled in for an afternoon of something less than intellectual discourse. But after about ten minutes, to my horror, we heard
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Ron and I immediately switched into emergency gear. We flushed the cigars and the beer down the toilet and hid the cans in the trash, pulled out two cans of Rightguard deodorant and started spraying the room to try to try to cover up the smoke (which was virtually billowing out the window). Ron snuck out the back door, and I was left alone, in a cold sweat, certain that my life was soon to be over.
I went downstairs and my dad asked me the fated question: “Bart, were you and Ron smoking upstairs?” I did what any self-respecting fourteen-year old would do: I lied to his face: “No dad, not me!” (The smoke was still heavy in the air as I spoke.) His face softened, almost to a smile, and then he said something that stayed with me for a long time – forty years in fact. “Bart, I don’t mind if you sneak a smoke now and then. But don’t lie to me.”
Naturally I assured him, “I won’t, dad!”
A Later Commitment to Truth
Five years later, I was a different human being. Everyone changes in those late teenage years, of course, but I’d say my change was more radical than most. Among other things, in the intervening years I had become a born again Christian, graduated from high school, gone off to a fundamentalist Bible college, Moody Bible Institute, and had two years of serious training in Biblical Studies and Theology under my belt. At Moody we weren’t allowed to smoke (“Your body is the Temple of the Holy Spirit,” as the New Testament teaches – and you don’t want to pollute God’s temple!), or drink alcoholic beverages (“Be ye not drunk with wine,” says the Bible; it didn’t occur to me that it might be okay to be drunk with bourbon), or – well to do lots of other things that most normal human beings at that age do: go to movies, dance, or play cards. I didn’t actually agree with the “conduct code” of the school (there was also a dress code and a hair code for men: no long hair or beards), but my view was that if I decided to go there, it meant playing by the rules. If I wanted other rules, I could go somewhere else. But more than that, from being a fourteen-year-old who was sports-minded, a merely better than average student, with little clue about the world or my place in it, and no particular commitments to telling the truth, as a nineteen-year-old I was an extremely zealous, rigorous, pious (OK, self-righteous), studious, committed evangelical Christian with firm notions about right and wrong and truth and error.
We were heavily committed to the truth at Moody Bible Institute. I would argue, even today, that there is no one on the planet more committed to truth than a serious and earnest evangelical Christian. And at Moody, we were nothing if not serious and earnest. Truth to us was as important as life itself. We believed in the Truth, with a capital T. We vowed to tell the truth, we expected the truth, we sought the truth, we studied the truth, we preached the truth, we had faith in the truth. “Thy Word is truth,“ as the Scripture says; and Jesus himself was “the way, the truth, and the life.” No one could “come to the Father” except through him, the true “Word become flesh.” Only unbelievers like Pontius Pilate were confused enough to ask “What is truth?” We as followers of Christ were in a different category altogether. As Jesus himself had said, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”
Along with our commitment to truth we believed in objectivity. Objective truth was all there was. There was no such thing as a “subjective truth.” Something was true or it was false. Personal feelings and opinions had nothing to do with it. Objectivity was real, it was possible, it was attainable, and we had access to it. It was through our objective knowledge of the truth that we knew God and knew what God (and Christ, and the Spirit, and everything else) was.
One of the ironies of modern religion is that the absolute commitment to truth in some forms of evangelical and fundamentalist Christianity, and the concomitant view that truth is objective and can be verified by any impartial observer, has led many faithful souls to follow the truth wherever it leads, but where it leads is often away from evangelical or fundamentalist Christianity. That is to say, if you can, in theory, verify the “objective” truth of religion, and then it turns out that the religion being examined is verifiably wrong, where does that leave you? For many one-time evangelical Christians it leaves them in the wilderness outside the evangelical camp, but with an unrepentant view of truth. Objective truth, to paraphrase the not-so Christian song, has been the ruin of many a poor boy; and God, I know, I’m one.
This was both fun to read and concerning to think about. If truth consists of facts and a belief in those facts, how can there be truth when now there are alternative facts?
Right! I guess there are alternative truths!
Unrestricted commit to truth is truly a dangerous path to follow if you are a conservative Christian. Years ago, I remember studying a Assembly of God produced book teaching the major doctrines of the bible. Ironically, one of the things that has stuck in my mind over these many years was a section talking about how you needed to seek truth and you shouldn’t use church doctrine as a guide, only the Word of God alone. As an example of what not to do was a quote by a religious leader that went something like this, “Learn what you as a Christian should believe then go to the bible and you will find it there.” Made quite an impression on me regarding what not to do as I diligently studied the Assembly of God doctrine on what you should believe, and at the time, I did go to the bible and find it there.
Love that song! One of the first I taught myself to play on the guitar to accompany myself and my friends and I didn’t know English then.I can’t imagine what that sounded like!
I read the anecdote in your book, and was, well… first much amused, by the story and the way you tell it …. but then so surprised that you would have confessed to have lied. Good for you!
When I confronted my boys about their lying to me, none of them – and they are very different- would admit to it.They would go through every intellectual contortion to maintain their version of events. It was a question of pride, I concluded.
I don’t remember how I myself fared vis a vis my dad, but I remember that at age 12 he made me sign an affidavit (!) he scribbled committing never to smoke. And I never ,ever smoked.
When I ceased to be ” God-full” , I didn’t give it a second thought. Surely, it must be because I didn’t grow up in a religious milieu,like you did.
I so much cherish all the personal stories you share with your audiences. It’s quite special, I think.
An affadavit! That’s a good one.
Well, it worked. I had made a promise, signed it, and felt it was a strong commitment. With my dad taking it so “seriously”, it was beyond an admonition.
A generation later, unrelated, my ex requested a contract from our 7 1/2 year old son, our first, who was dreaming of a sibling.
So my son wrote with an orange crayon on a scrap of paper ” I promise to be an excellent brother. PS: brother or sister due in 2 years”.
Since I was already expecting, the birth of his brother was magic to him. My ex of course failed to notify our son that his sibling was already on the way, and that he extracted this promise not entirely by honest means😊
We kept his ” contract”, of course.
Twenty years later, in his 400 word essay application to Harvard Law School, he told of this ” contract” , written with an orange crayon by his own hand, and how it sparked and cemented his respect and trust in contracts and their reciprocity.
He was accepted to Harvard Law School. The admissions committee probably never read an essay like that one!
Sweet memories….
Ha! Nice story. I hope he didn’t fill out the application in crayon.
😂
I should know. I was the editor in chief.
I think that the vast majority of those evangelical seekers of objective truth are just engaging in confirmation bias. Those individuals have been subject to years of religious indoctrination and are seeking to find some type of justification for their cherished beliefs other than “the Bible says so”. They have no intention of discarding their ingrained religious beliefs.
You are in the minority of former evangelicals who were able to overcome your indoctrination and eventually begin to think clearly about your former religious beliefs.
For me, religious truth has meant practicing a certain code of behavior since childhood. A bit like the Law of Moses obliged the Israelites to do and avoid certain things in order to please Yahweh. In addition to this, of course, each group has its own special interpretations of the Bible.
I would argue that there is no one on the planet more committed to thinking they already have the truth than a serious and earnest evangelical Christian. To seriously pursue the “truth” we must accept the possibility that we may not already possess it. The evangelical project is to demonstrate they already possess the truth not to consider the possibility they don’t.
Well said Stephen!
Amen brother ! Amen! 🙂
Bart,
I have been struggling with the whole Truth/truth thing for the past years and always had trouble getting a good definition for truth. ‘Objective/Subjective’ truth is interesting and I would add in ‘relative’ truth (things can become true in some form based on one’s personal (limited) knowledge and/or experiences). I agree with the spilt between faith and fact in religion, but how can one get to a point where we can say ‘X’ is “Truth/truth” without an uncertainty clause (‘we don’t know what we don’t know’)?
Many here would accept that it is ‘truth’ that there was a man named Jesus from Nazareth in the early first century who changed the world more than any other living being in history (as of today), but is it the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? It is arguable that we cannot possibly know the truth without knowing ‘everything’ about that truth — and I will certainly not ever claim to know everything about anything!
So, do we reject the concept of a possible ‘truth’ and instead use some type of scale of probabilities? That won’t work for many folks – we humans like 100% certainty.
My view is that “truth” means different things in different kinds of discourse. Mathematical truths are not the same as philosophical; and philosophical are not teh same as physical; and religious are not the same as historical, etc. I would say there is definitely such a thing as “objective reality” but most truth claims aren’t exactly about that. It’s true I love my wife, but I don’t think it’s useful to call that an objective reality, even though it is very real.
This is a truly relatable story! I believe that you got into this field beginning in your late teens because you wanted to know the original gospels. Is there a book containing at least the 4 gospels that is based on the earliest and best witnesses/manuscripts, perhaps annotated where there is dispute?
Yes, all modern translations try to do precisely that, and some do have (sparse) footnotes mentioning variant forms of the text (e.g., the NRSV)
I smile as I read this. My dad was always a sceptic and one night he had his feet propped up and his entire face was hidden while reading his evening paper.
It was just after dinner and my sister headed out the front door and as she did she announced “ I’m going to church to be saved”
My dad without missing a beat or lowering the paper replied “ Yeah, saved from doing the dishes”
Man, he was great.
Hello Bart, I won’t attack the “what is truth” question head on (a mug’s game IMO), but I will say two things :
1. all knowledge is provisional. Even in science, a theory is only in place for a period of time, until something better comes along.
2. people who claim to know the absolute truth can become, with little provocation, very dangerous individuals. It is in essence, the point at which they become “God-like.”
1. I would agree, except in mathematics and probably in the laws of physics; 2. Oh boy do I agree.
Are there “ degrees “ of Evangelical belief , like denominations within the general Evangelical faith? For example, do “ all” Evangelicals believe in unquestionable Biblical inerrancy?
Oh yes, significant degrees from hard-core fundamentalists to fairly left wing evangelicals. Most today are not all that interesetd in issues of inerrancy; evangelical Xty, at least in America, has become more a form of cultural identity than doctrinal “truth.” A Very intersting book on this recently called “Jesus and John Wayne.” Highly recommended!
All would say that they are following the objective truth, most truly believe that they are following the objective truth, most really aren’t.
The reason is that objective truths are based on the believe system in humans, and this system is really complex and contradictive. Solid logic in this system is just a small factor among many others. Social and materialistic benefits are actually strong factors in this system. Also, the rebellious phenomenon is also a factor in this system: There will always be a small percentage of people that are rebellious toward the surrounding environment. For example, I have a friend who is really smart, but he truly believes that the earth is flat. There are many people who have this belief, they have their own groups and foundations, and I truly think that this belief has originated from a rebellious stand.
Therefore, objective truth is not something that can be defined clearly. Therefore, everyone claims that they have “The Objective Truth”.
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However, more clarity to the truth can be obtained by having the skills to detect logical fallacies. For example, a conclusion related to the “early Christian history” cannot be put into experimentation, it only depends on logical arguments. Therefore, a superior Orator might present a plausible conclusion that depends on many hidden logical fallacies that are not easy to be detected by the untrained eyes. Therefore, this conclusion might seem to be very logical though it is not. It should be noted that these hidden fallacies might not be intentional from the Orator, and the Orator might really think that his conclusion is the absolute objective truth.
Having the ability to detect logical fallacies would probably not close the gaps between different beliefs but it could certainly increase the quality of debates many folds.
My suggestion here is that the study of “Christian history” in the university requires one course (at least) every semester dedicated for detecting logical fallacies and to have the ability to differentiate between different probabilities. This is how important I think the study of logical fallacies for the non-experimental fields of knowledge.
Yes, I would say that’s true for the history of every religion and, in fact, the history of everything. History simply is not like the experimental sciences in its goals or methods.
I prefer where “objective truth” leads as described by John Shelby Spong in his book “Why Christianity Must Change or Die”–to exile and not to ruin. As he describes himself, he is “a believer who lives in exile.”
Bart, I became a “puritan” a little before you and remained so a little after you, at 8 years of age becoming “born again” and then struggling with the problem of evil in my late 30s to an agnostic conclusion. How I loved to instruct my childhood schoolmates on how to behave and think if they wanted to avoid hell. But my commitment to a Christian love for “objective truth” developed in my undergraduate years at Calvin College. After a decade as a minister, I pursued a Ph.D. in New Testament Studies at the University of Michigan, where I met a young Rutgers professor. I had no idea how important he would become later in my life. I lost my faith while working on my Ph.D.. As an agnostic I began my university career teaching the Comparative Study of Religion and History of Christianity, a happy career that lasted for 30 years before recent retirement. With the help of your writings over those years, I’ve recovered from the fundamentalist view of objective truth. Why did it take me so long after that 8-year-old boy asked his pastor a perfectly good question with no good answer as to who married Cain?
Ah, it’s a classic question! You’d think he’d have an answer. What year were you doing the PhD at Michigan?
While serving as an associate minister in 1984, I started taking courses at the U-M. I resigned as a minister due to my growing agnosticism and finished an MA in 1990. I got a divorce in that same year (connected to anxiety over my agnosticism), though I’m happily remarried now to a Unitarian-Universalist. I finally finished my dissertation in 1996. I’ve been semi-retired since 2019. I still love studying the Bible but have continued part-time teaching of Holocaust history since 2016. I’ll teach a Bible course from time to time at liberal churches or senior centers nearby. In fact, I just finished a series of lectures on the Making of the Old Testament at a very progressive Lutheran church in Ann Arbor. Given that research, I’m looking forward to your take on the stories of Moses (Exodus and Conquest) this coming weekend. My teacher on these questions was George Mendenhall, though I’m impressed with the recent work of Matt Baker on the UsefulCharts YouTube channel. Well, there is my bit of autobiography. My condolences to you on your recent loss.
Very interesting point, Prof. Ehrman.
This actually reminds me a bit of Friedrich Nietzsche’s early life. He also started out as a very pious student of theology, who was expected to follow in the footsteps of his pastor father. In his early 20s, that all started to change when he read Schopenhauer and was exposed to Darwin’s, then new, paradigm-shattering ideas. It was ultimately his commitment to the truth that lead him away from the church, of which he became a major critic, and inspired him to look beyond all that he’d been taught to accept as “truth” and express what he found in the brilliant literature he left for us.
One of his great insights was that even the idea of objective truth is itself questionable. He didn’t exactly deny that truth exists, but it is necessarily perspectival, as each new era brings different understandings, embracing different truths. Moreover it also varies from one culture (or person) to another.
This is generally a question in the “forgery” category, but it stems from the latest podcast on YouTube, which is off to a great start from my perspective. You say many scholars question the authorship of 6 NT letters that claim to be written by Paul. Do scholars believe each of these 6 letters has a separate author or is there evidence of common authorship among any of the 6 letters?
THe normal view — the one I hold as well — is that 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus were produced by the same author, with different authors for Ephesians, Colossians, and 2 Thessalonians. But almost every possible option is held by one scholar or another.
Well since it’s the third day after part one of your trip down memory lane and no one else has commented on part one and since I have already commented more seriously on part 2, I thought I’d lighten things up a bit.
Your episode with the beer and cigars brings back fond personal memories as well. I could bring up a number, but it suffices to say that maybe all those book burners are right about you after all. I mean I bet if you were examined closely, it would be found that you indeed have horns, secretly carry around a fordable pitch fork and indeed (merciful heavens) even have (yes terrible as it seems) a tail.
I look forward to the rest of this discussion.
Ah, my wicked youth. Of course the next day I was confessing my sins in church….
Well I’m glad you took my joking in the light-hearted manner in which it was intended. After I sent it, I thought wow, maybe that’s a bit over the top. I must say that I only tease people I admire and respect. As The Great Gazoo told Fred and Barney of the Flintstones: Remember fellows: ‘I’m a bit of a kook!’
Truth… it’s a can of worms. My new favourite verse in the Bible is John 18:38. At least someone had the balls to ask that question. Thank you Pilate or the creative writer of the story (not sure who to give the credit to) . At this agnostic place in my life… I have a hard time separating opinion from truth claims from anyone, be they theologians or scientists. Guess that is why the agnostic label fits me. I would rather say “I don’t know” than voice anything as “truth”… only to find it is really just my opinion. I long to get to the place where my opinion matters as much as other people’s “truth”… even if my opinion it is rooted in the unknown. At least I can be honest about that much. Thank you for posting this. Like I said… “a can of worms”. But I like worms… as long as they go in my compost… and not in my dinner.
You’ve crossed over into my scholarly area here a bit, which is extremely rewarding. I haven’t read Forged but now I’m planning on at least hitting the intro!
The interdisciplinary field of Science, Technology, and Society (STS) has spent several decades unpacking, among other things, this relationship between a fixation on objectivity and modernity. (Along with exactly what “modernism” is, which is much more complicated than many might think!)
Donna Haraway’s essay on Situated Knowledges has always been the best for me—we don’t want to dispose of a commitment to objectivity, as it’s essential for the production of good knowledge. But we also need to stop pretending that any of us has access to unfiltered, unsituated objectivity. That’s nothing but vanity, as Cohelet might say.
What continues to fascinate me is how the “fundamentalist/modernist split” of the early 20th century didn’t produce one modern and one non-modern movement, but rather effectively produced two entirely new, contraposed movements, obsessed with objectivity of different sorts. Modernity claimed the “new,” and fundamentalism the “old,” but both were heavily laden down with a very selective historical contingency and an obsession with wiping away something old. And this gets repeatedly replicated outside Christianity!
Anyway, thanks for the post!