Roadtoad
15th April 2009, 11:52 AM
After reading through the OPs of a couple of other threads whose authors shall remain nameless, it seemed to me wiser to avoid wasting people's time (and mine) by starting a new thread which answered one of these threads, and which would eliminate the need to read the other.
One of the things I find most offensive about a great many evangelicals is that they lack any recognition of propriety. Most cannot simply say, "I'm sorry..." to those that grieve, or even offer a sense of apology for those who have been hurt. For the most part, every contact mandates some sort of weird insistence that it be turned into a moment for witness, regardless of whether the witness is needed, wanted, or even appropriate. This is further degraded by the notion that clever tales, bits of intellectual sophistry, or even anecdotes of "God's glory" are either appropriate or wise.
One of the most popular illustrations used in recent years has been the one about the chair: You are told about the chair, about its quality, its comfort, and the skill of its maker. You sit in the chair, and you can appreciate all of the above. You are, of course, displaying faith in not only the chair's existence, but in that of its maker, by sitting in it.
This is usually accompanied by the analogy of the light switch, used to drive the point home: You can't see electricity, and yet, you flip the switch, the lights come on, and you can see in the darkened room. You have faith in electricity; therefore, how hard can it be to have faith in a god whom you have also not seen?
The problem, of course, is that these analogies ignore the intelligence of the listener, as they are meant to do. They are designed to insult the non-believer, to provoke a reaction. They are designed as an intellectual power play for the believer, a means by which they can attempt to undercut the underpinnings of a rationalist's arguments. Where in the past, evangelism was once described as "One beggar telling another where to find bread," it's now about dominance and control.
Allow me to break down these analogies into their component parts, and you'll understand what I'm describing.
All of us understand the whole concept of a chair. We've seen them our entire lives, and for the most part, we've sat in them for our entire existence. It's basic, it's comprehensible, it's grounded in our intellect. It's also understood that as an object in and of itself, it must be constructed of something. We understand wood, plastic, steel, stone, what have you.
In the hands of someone with respect for a non-believer, the intent behind such an illustration is not the mere description of an object, but to link the idea of an intelligence behind something we use on a regular basis, and the benefits we derive from that. And when this first emerged within evangelical circles a number of years ago, that was the intent. It was based on an ideal of mutual respect.
The chair is not merely a creation of the hands, but is, in fact, an extension of the wisdom of its creator, and a display of its creator's skill. And from this viewpoint, it can make some sense. Left at this stage, the believer might have had a chance. All they have to do is shut up. (In fact, Dr. Walter Martin, Dr. Chuck Swindoll, and other respected evangelicals often did.)
But then we get into actually sitting in the chair. What, we're going to use it as a table? Well, of course, we're going to sit in the damned thing! It's a CHAIR. And there is, from experience immemorial, the idea that a chair can -- and should -- support the weight of an individual. (I realize this is also supposed to be an unstated reference to God's immutable nature, his eternal being, but stick with me.) But it also ignores some realities that even the most untutored atheist can cite.
For one thing, you can quantify chairs. You can test them, show their strength, examine the materials and demonstrate their strength. You can show that a chair can do what it was designed to do. (In the original iteration, it was also supposed to show how God is able to bear you up, to withstand the burdens you place upon him.) You can quantify the chairs themselves, too: you can make a hundred of them, or a thousand. You can count the number of chairs made, and even quantify the number that can be made over a given period of time by a given number of chair makers, their resources, and their skills.
Another point is that at some point, there had to be a first chair. The guy who made the first chair lived, died, faded from memory. That chair eventually was lost to us. It was finite. In the original iteration, it was mentioned that the idea of the chair remained, but that seems to have been lost in its corrupted form. But that still ignores the realities that even the idea is finite; they may vary as to comfort level, to construction methods, to materials, but the idea behind a "chair" remains. Remove the back, and you have a stool. Remove the legs, you have a seat. It ceases to be a chair. The idea behind it is violated, and it is no longer what it once was. (Yes, I'm aware that this could be used as an analogy for sin, but a better one would be some corruption of structure itself, such as breaking a leg, or splitting the seat of it, which would make it useless until repaired.)
All of which serves to illustrate my point: the believer is supposed to use this illustration to assume a superior position to the one being witnessed to, to take the dominant role. By taking control of the argument, the believer is supposed to be free to make his arguments, to demonstrate just how wrong the atheist/skeptic/agnostic is. "See how compassionate I am?" the believer is supposed to be saying with this. "I am taking a leading role to save your eternal soul!" It takes the image of the shepherd with the wayward lamb, how a believer is shepherding the non-believer, (the "pre-christian" in some churches' parlance), in essence taking that lamb and gently breaking the leg so the lamb will learn submission and dependence upon the shepherd, and not stray too far away.
I know this: I used to make the same arguments. It is the very denial of what Paul said, that in Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek. We are supposed to be equals.
A similar thing can be said about the analogy of the light switch: We know, in our modern age within the western world, about electricity. We use it every day, and enjoy its benefits. We can take a switch from it's place, and examine its makeup, disassemble it, and make use of it as we will. It may not be a thing in itself, but rather one point in a larger chain, but once you comprehend the basics behind it, you can track what follows. You can understand that like a water valve, the light switch opens a connection, and allows electricity to go from one point to another.
But electricity, as a force, is quantifiable. Take an ammeter, a voltmeter, or any other such device, and you can record how much power is flowing through any given circuit at any given time. Its effects can also be seen when it's misused, such as when you touch two bare wires, or when it's unrestrained, as we see in lightning. Electric energy is every bit as eternal as any other basic form of energy, simply because at its roots are the laws of physics. You're not going to change them because you're a good person or because you're chanting some words. That only works for Harry Dresden, and even he would tell you, things don't always go as planned.
I'm citing only two examples, but I think I've made my point. Analogies ought to be used sparingly, but in the mind of the believer, they've become substitutes for evidence and thought. They're nothing but a sales pitch, a memorized shtick, which can be repeated ad nauseum, without a great deal of thought behind it, which allows the salesman to watch the customer for any sign of a possible "buy." It's a very cynical, very negative view of those who question the beliefs of the Christian, one which reduces skeptics to nothing more than a market, rather than as individuals with needs.
Gone, of course, is the beggar telling another where to get the next meal. In his place stands someone assuming a superior role which has not been earned, declaring direction which has no authority, and proclaiming as news that which has no basis in fact.
The affront is not the Gospel. The affront is the moral smugness, the declaration that one is superior to those huddled masses, ignoring the primary reality that once you take off the ill-deserved trappings the evangelical claims to be bearing, he's not much better than those he's "witnessing" to, and in many ways, he's worse off, because he refuses to see that he's not only deceiving himself, but others, too. And while he could see it if he were honest with himself, he chooses not to: his faith is comfortable, a cushion for that hard old world out there, the one with people who really suffer, who really hurt, who really bleed, and who really die.
I mention Chuck Swindoll's quote quite often, mainly because it's valid: The best evidence for the existence for God is a changed life. Understand why, and you begin to grasp why people do not accept Christ. It's not Jesus that offends, it's his people.
As I said, chairs and electricity are quantifiable. So, too, can belief be quantified, though not in the same manner, nor with the same capital. I can look, for example, at people like Susan Lancaster, and know that she believes. But at the same time, I can look at her actions and show that as she declares herself a Christian, she is living a Christian life. She walks it.
Most women would have looked at the short time spent with Robert, and bailed. Susan has not only stuck with Robert, she's been that thin line between his being lost in the abyss of mindless bureaucracy and his recovery. That's a rare sense of courage, and as she declares by her actions the presence of the Holy Spirit in her life, that's one point of evidence in favor of belief.
I could say similar things about Thanz and Kittynh. These are people of remarkable compassion, whose actions declare reasoned belief. There's a willingness to simply say, "I don't know." I can respect that, and I appreciate it. They do not have to be in control; if there's a god, he can manage that for himself. Again, points of evidence, points on the scale.
But I'm also well aware that these are people who are in a very small minority. I was an evangelical. I am no more. I can look at the numbers, and I can recognize that if you examine them closely, you can easily show that in any society, there will simply be a certain percentage of people who are just plain decent, honest, hard-working, and good. Fix your criteria where you will, and you can pretty well establish a general figure, a fixed percentage that will translate across cultures and societies. It undercuts the declaration of the bulk of evangelicals, revealing that what they're really after is market share, and not anyone's salvation.
It's been shown, time and again, that the Bible is full of fallacies, contradictions, and inaccuracies. It wasn't so much written for anyone's "salvation," (though I suppose acceptance of a particular political order would qualify, if doing so would allow you to keep your head firmly affixed to your neck), but to establish some semblance of a rule of law in what was largely a lawless region of the world. The fact that Jesus drove "demons" into a herd of pigs in a part of the world where eating pork was proscribed ought to show you just how closely people followed that law.
That you have Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland, Pat Robertson, and a whole host of others proclaiming an even more bastardized "gospel" than we've seen, and that they are not censured for it by the bulk of the evangelical community, shows much the same thing. Where Isaiah was sawn in half, where other prophets suffered incredibly according to the Old Testament, where one sees present day Jews genuinely persecuted for what they believe, one only has to listen for a few minutes of bleating from the purveyors of Divine Prosperity, the claim that Jesus wants you RICH, and you find yourself reaching for the Pepto. I'm reminded of reading Fox's Book of Martyrs, and you can't help but think that this barbaric declaration that Jesus shows his love through money is about as far from the declaration of genuine Faith of Dietrich Bonhoeffer as one can get. It has all the effect of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music, as it's designed to clear a room of anything with a functioning eardrum (and brain) in three seconds flat.
It's not all that far from the hateful attitude of those who make use of the hackneyed analogies I've cited, and at least a dozen more. As those who are doing the witnessing are continuing to promulgate these warm fuzzy tales, using them as substitutes for rational thought, ignoring the valid questions of non-believers, regardless of why they don't believe, they continue to thin their own numbers by their refusal to acknowledge that it's a person's actions which provide the greatest witness to what a person believes.
It's all well and good to declare that if one will tithe, God will provide. But how does God do that if not through his people? When I had to choose between tithing to the church and feeding my kids, my kids came first, in no small part because I knew damned good and well that I could not trust my fellow believers, as I should have been able to. And if I couldn't trust the church to help when, through no fault of my own, I was unable to feed my wife and kids, how was I supposed to trust them in the days of a seven year tribulation, or even in those days leading up to it, even if I were to be raptured out prior to the Holy Spirit being withdrawn? What evidence did I have that even my fellow believers accepted their own gospel when their actions dictated that to them it was all a lie?
Taking it further, when they would say one thing and do another, when they could and would lie to me, when I was treated with disrespect because of some imagined or minor fault, when my wife was treated as a pariah, how could they ask me to accept a god whose people behaved in a manner that declared I was NOT accepted? If the only sign you have of God's love for you are the actions of his people, and their actions indicate rejection of you, what is the point in believing?
Oh, yes, the call is, "Keep your eyes on Jesus." Nice thought, but not rational, particularly as you're facing the realities that many of us do, of not being able to meet your debts, of the possibility of losing your home, of going hungry. The church is not what it was in the time of Peter, Andrew, Matthew, John, where the church took up offerings on Sunday to help those in need. It isn't even a country club, since golf itself is about quantification, competition, and demands thought and consideration. It does all it can to deny thought, out of fear that with genuine intellect one "won't need God." It denies the most basic truths, that if, in fact, there is a god, not only would he truly not be denied by the search for fact, (that, in fact, it can only lead to confirmation of the existence of a deity), but that with the evidence of his existence, it would reveal to all the truth regarding the evangelicals.
And they can't have that. It would destroy their moral "superiority."
That's what all this is about. It's about muscle, not spirit. It's about dominance, not service. It's about a lie, not the truth.
It's why I don't accept the evangelicals and their lies. Because if they were interested in the truth, their whole attitude would be very different.
Because if you serve a most high god, it would seem to me your first order of business is to get your own act together, and recognizing, like the tax collector who was an object of scorn from the Pharisee, that in the broader scheme of things, you were less than nothing.
You can proclaim your "love" all you like. The evidence says otherwise. I have seen the lie. I lived it. And now, I deny it. My goal is to live the truth.
One of the things I find most offensive about a great many evangelicals is that they lack any recognition of propriety. Most cannot simply say, "I'm sorry..." to those that grieve, or even offer a sense of apology for those who have been hurt. For the most part, every contact mandates some sort of weird insistence that it be turned into a moment for witness, regardless of whether the witness is needed, wanted, or even appropriate. This is further degraded by the notion that clever tales, bits of intellectual sophistry, or even anecdotes of "God's glory" are either appropriate or wise.
One of the most popular illustrations used in recent years has been the one about the chair: You are told about the chair, about its quality, its comfort, and the skill of its maker. You sit in the chair, and you can appreciate all of the above. You are, of course, displaying faith in not only the chair's existence, but in that of its maker, by sitting in it.
This is usually accompanied by the analogy of the light switch, used to drive the point home: You can't see electricity, and yet, you flip the switch, the lights come on, and you can see in the darkened room. You have faith in electricity; therefore, how hard can it be to have faith in a god whom you have also not seen?
The problem, of course, is that these analogies ignore the intelligence of the listener, as they are meant to do. They are designed to insult the non-believer, to provoke a reaction. They are designed as an intellectual power play for the believer, a means by which they can attempt to undercut the underpinnings of a rationalist's arguments. Where in the past, evangelism was once described as "One beggar telling another where to find bread," it's now about dominance and control.
Allow me to break down these analogies into their component parts, and you'll understand what I'm describing.
All of us understand the whole concept of a chair. We've seen them our entire lives, and for the most part, we've sat in them for our entire existence. It's basic, it's comprehensible, it's grounded in our intellect. It's also understood that as an object in and of itself, it must be constructed of something. We understand wood, plastic, steel, stone, what have you.
In the hands of someone with respect for a non-believer, the intent behind such an illustration is not the mere description of an object, but to link the idea of an intelligence behind something we use on a regular basis, and the benefits we derive from that. And when this first emerged within evangelical circles a number of years ago, that was the intent. It was based on an ideal of mutual respect.
The chair is not merely a creation of the hands, but is, in fact, an extension of the wisdom of its creator, and a display of its creator's skill. And from this viewpoint, it can make some sense. Left at this stage, the believer might have had a chance. All they have to do is shut up. (In fact, Dr. Walter Martin, Dr. Chuck Swindoll, and other respected evangelicals often did.)
But then we get into actually sitting in the chair. What, we're going to use it as a table? Well, of course, we're going to sit in the damned thing! It's a CHAIR. And there is, from experience immemorial, the idea that a chair can -- and should -- support the weight of an individual. (I realize this is also supposed to be an unstated reference to God's immutable nature, his eternal being, but stick with me.) But it also ignores some realities that even the most untutored atheist can cite.
For one thing, you can quantify chairs. You can test them, show their strength, examine the materials and demonstrate their strength. You can show that a chair can do what it was designed to do. (In the original iteration, it was also supposed to show how God is able to bear you up, to withstand the burdens you place upon him.) You can quantify the chairs themselves, too: you can make a hundred of them, or a thousand. You can count the number of chairs made, and even quantify the number that can be made over a given period of time by a given number of chair makers, their resources, and their skills.
Another point is that at some point, there had to be a first chair. The guy who made the first chair lived, died, faded from memory. That chair eventually was lost to us. It was finite. In the original iteration, it was mentioned that the idea of the chair remained, but that seems to have been lost in its corrupted form. But that still ignores the realities that even the idea is finite; they may vary as to comfort level, to construction methods, to materials, but the idea behind a "chair" remains. Remove the back, and you have a stool. Remove the legs, you have a seat. It ceases to be a chair. The idea behind it is violated, and it is no longer what it once was. (Yes, I'm aware that this could be used as an analogy for sin, but a better one would be some corruption of structure itself, such as breaking a leg, or splitting the seat of it, which would make it useless until repaired.)
All of which serves to illustrate my point: the believer is supposed to use this illustration to assume a superior position to the one being witnessed to, to take the dominant role. By taking control of the argument, the believer is supposed to be free to make his arguments, to demonstrate just how wrong the atheist/skeptic/agnostic is. "See how compassionate I am?" the believer is supposed to be saying with this. "I am taking a leading role to save your eternal soul!" It takes the image of the shepherd with the wayward lamb, how a believer is shepherding the non-believer, (the "pre-christian" in some churches' parlance), in essence taking that lamb and gently breaking the leg so the lamb will learn submission and dependence upon the shepherd, and not stray too far away.
I know this: I used to make the same arguments. It is the very denial of what Paul said, that in Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek. We are supposed to be equals.
A similar thing can be said about the analogy of the light switch: We know, in our modern age within the western world, about electricity. We use it every day, and enjoy its benefits. We can take a switch from it's place, and examine its makeup, disassemble it, and make use of it as we will. It may not be a thing in itself, but rather one point in a larger chain, but once you comprehend the basics behind it, you can track what follows. You can understand that like a water valve, the light switch opens a connection, and allows electricity to go from one point to another.
But electricity, as a force, is quantifiable. Take an ammeter, a voltmeter, or any other such device, and you can record how much power is flowing through any given circuit at any given time. Its effects can also be seen when it's misused, such as when you touch two bare wires, or when it's unrestrained, as we see in lightning. Electric energy is every bit as eternal as any other basic form of energy, simply because at its roots are the laws of physics. You're not going to change them because you're a good person or because you're chanting some words. That only works for Harry Dresden, and even he would tell you, things don't always go as planned.
I'm citing only two examples, but I think I've made my point. Analogies ought to be used sparingly, but in the mind of the believer, they've become substitutes for evidence and thought. They're nothing but a sales pitch, a memorized shtick, which can be repeated ad nauseum, without a great deal of thought behind it, which allows the salesman to watch the customer for any sign of a possible "buy." It's a very cynical, very negative view of those who question the beliefs of the Christian, one which reduces skeptics to nothing more than a market, rather than as individuals with needs.
Gone, of course, is the beggar telling another where to get the next meal. In his place stands someone assuming a superior role which has not been earned, declaring direction which has no authority, and proclaiming as news that which has no basis in fact.
The affront is not the Gospel. The affront is the moral smugness, the declaration that one is superior to those huddled masses, ignoring the primary reality that once you take off the ill-deserved trappings the evangelical claims to be bearing, he's not much better than those he's "witnessing" to, and in many ways, he's worse off, because he refuses to see that he's not only deceiving himself, but others, too. And while he could see it if he were honest with himself, he chooses not to: his faith is comfortable, a cushion for that hard old world out there, the one with people who really suffer, who really hurt, who really bleed, and who really die.
I mention Chuck Swindoll's quote quite often, mainly because it's valid: The best evidence for the existence for God is a changed life. Understand why, and you begin to grasp why people do not accept Christ. It's not Jesus that offends, it's his people.
As I said, chairs and electricity are quantifiable. So, too, can belief be quantified, though not in the same manner, nor with the same capital. I can look, for example, at people like Susan Lancaster, and know that she believes. But at the same time, I can look at her actions and show that as she declares herself a Christian, she is living a Christian life. She walks it.
Most women would have looked at the short time spent with Robert, and bailed. Susan has not only stuck with Robert, she's been that thin line between his being lost in the abyss of mindless bureaucracy and his recovery. That's a rare sense of courage, and as she declares by her actions the presence of the Holy Spirit in her life, that's one point of evidence in favor of belief.
I could say similar things about Thanz and Kittynh. These are people of remarkable compassion, whose actions declare reasoned belief. There's a willingness to simply say, "I don't know." I can respect that, and I appreciate it. They do not have to be in control; if there's a god, he can manage that for himself. Again, points of evidence, points on the scale.
But I'm also well aware that these are people who are in a very small minority. I was an evangelical. I am no more. I can look at the numbers, and I can recognize that if you examine them closely, you can easily show that in any society, there will simply be a certain percentage of people who are just plain decent, honest, hard-working, and good. Fix your criteria where you will, and you can pretty well establish a general figure, a fixed percentage that will translate across cultures and societies. It undercuts the declaration of the bulk of evangelicals, revealing that what they're really after is market share, and not anyone's salvation.
It's been shown, time and again, that the Bible is full of fallacies, contradictions, and inaccuracies. It wasn't so much written for anyone's "salvation," (though I suppose acceptance of a particular political order would qualify, if doing so would allow you to keep your head firmly affixed to your neck), but to establish some semblance of a rule of law in what was largely a lawless region of the world. The fact that Jesus drove "demons" into a herd of pigs in a part of the world where eating pork was proscribed ought to show you just how closely people followed that law.
That you have Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland, Pat Robertson, and a whole host of others proclaiming an even more bastardized "gospel" than we've seen, and that they are not censured for it by the bulk of the evangelical community, shows much the same thing. Where Isaiah was sawn in half, where other prophets suffered incredibly according to the Old Testament, where one sees present day Jews genuinely persecuted for what they believe, one only has to listen for a few minutes of bleating from the purveyors of Divine Prosperity, the claim that Jesus wants you RICH, and you find yourself reaching for the Pepto. I'm reminded of reading Fox's Book of Martyrs, and you can't help but think that this barbaric declaration that Jesus shows his love through money is about as far from the declaration of genuine Faith of Dietrich Bonhoeffer as one can get. It has all the effect of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music, as it's designed to clear a room of anything with a functioning eardrum (and brain) in three seconds flat.
It's not all that far from the hateful attitude of those who make use of the hackneyed analogies I've cited, and at least a dozen more. As those who are doing the witnessing are continuing to promulgate these warm fuzzy tales, using them as substitutes for rational thought, ignoring the valid questions of non-believers, regardless of why they don't believe, they continue to thin their own numbers by their refusal to acknowledge that it's a person's actions which provide the greatest witness to what a person believes.
It's all well and good to declare that if one will tithe, God will provide. But how does God do that if not through his people? When I had to choose between tithing to the church and feeding my kids, my kids came first, in no small part because I knew damned good and well that I could not trust my fellow believers, as I should have been able to. And if I couldn't trust the church to help when, through no fault of my own, I was unable to feed my wife and kids, how was I supposed to trust them in the days of a seven year tribulation, or even in those days leading up to it, even if I were to be raptured out prior to the Holy Spirit being withdrawn? What evidence did I have that even my fellow believers accepted their own gospel when their actions dictated that to them it was all a lie?
Taking it further, when they would say one thing and do another, when they could and would lie to me, when I was treated with disrespect because of some imagined or minor fault, when my wife was treated as a pariah, how could they ask me to accept a god whose people behaved in a manner that declared I was NOT accepted? If the only sign you have of God's love for you are the actions of his people, and their actions indicate rejection of you, what is the point in believing?
Oh, yes, the call is, "Keep your eyes on Jesus." Nice thought, but not rational, particularly as you're facing the realities that many of us do, of not being able to meet your debts, of the possibility of losing your home, of going hungry. The church is not what it was in the time of Peter, Andrew, Matthew, John, where the church took up offerings on Sunday to help those in need. It isn't even a country club, since golf itself is about quantification, competition, and demands thought and consideration. It does all it can to deny thought, out of fear that with genuine intellect one "won't need God." It denies the most basic truths, that if, in fact, there is a god, not only would he truly not be denied by the search for fact, (that, in fact, it can only lead to confirmation of the existence of a deity), but that with the evidence of his existence, it would reveal to all the truth regarding the evangelicals.
And they can't have that. It would destroy their moral "superiority."
That's what all this is about. It's about muscle, not spirit. It's about dominance, not service. It's about a lie, not the truth.
It's why I don't accept the evangelicals and their lies. Because if they were interested in the truth, their whole attitude would be very different.
Because if you serve a most high god, it would seem to me your first order of business is to get your own act together, and recognizing, like the tax collector who was an object of scorn from the Pharisee, that in the broader scheme of things, you were less than nothing.
You can proclaim your "love" all you like. The evidence says otherwise. I have seen the lie. I lived it. And now, I deny it. My goal is to live the truth.