...and Jesus said, “Forgive them, father: they know not what I really said.”
Biblical Scholar Proclaims New Testament a Testament to Misinformation
Biblical Scholar Proclaims New Testament a Testament to Misinformation
By L. Llewellyn James
Staff Writer
Staff Writer
Often, history has produced a wide array of influences, convergences and cultural engagements that have turned into lamentable entanglements.
According to Bart Ehrman, Chairman of the Department of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina and life-long biblical scholar in his easily-followed-by-laymen journey though the early years of the Christian church, Misquoting Jesus: The Story Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why (HarperSanFrancisco, $24.95), the single most egregious producer of historical angst and sociological conflict the planet may have ever known very well may be the venerated collection of stories, spiritual dissertations and arguments collectively comprising the entirety of the Christian New Testament.
Ehrman briefly covers his personal quest for spiritual rejuvenation in the introduction, wherein he discusses how the tenor of this book has been a personal quest of sorts, ever since his pre-adolescence in Kansas, in the 1950s. Having been acclimated to the tales and teachings of the bible from a fastidiously devout mother who routinely read to her children from the scriptures, Ehrman grew to be a typical American.
When he had become a sophomore in high school, however, Ehrman recounts a spiritual transmogrification, wherein the bible became less the “mysterious book of some importance for religion”, and more a potent treatise on how to achieve a new-found level of comfort and fulfillment in the bosom of a loving messiah. While attending meetings of a local youth ministry in his hometown, Ehrman made the acquaintance of a charismatic, youthful-though-slightly-older ministerial guide referred to as “Bruce”. Bruce had an uncanny familiarity with the rudiments of scripture, which impressed the young Ehrman.
After high school, Ehrman decided to enroll at the hyper-conservative Moody Bible Institute, pursuing a degree in Biblical Theology. At Moody, Ehrman recounts how the entirety of the staff and students were required to sign a statement, wherein they affirmed that the bible was the absolute, inerrant word of God.
“There was an obvious problem,” Ehrman recollects in the introduction, “[...] with the claim that the Bible was verbally inspired.”
While a student at Moody, one of the most constant points of discussion on campus had been the idea of a lack of the original scripts of what we know today as the New Testament of the Bible. This did not result in a problem for most attendees at Moody, as they seemed content to rest assured in the inspired nature of the writings in general, in spite of not having what are called the Autographs, or originals,of the new testament.
After receiving his degree from Moody, Ehrman decided to attempt to become a highly educated, Evangelical scholar in the domicile of the conventional, secular academic circles of America. This, Ehrman reasoned, would entail attending an upper-loft evangelical college outside of Chicago called Wheaton College. Here, Ehrman would befriend many evangelical Christians who would prove unafraid of calling their faith into doubt. Whereas Ehrman initially found the idea of faith-questioning tantamount to outright, sinful wavering, Ehrman became convinced that there was a sincerity and humbling pursuit of the truth sought by his peers and instructors at Wheaton.
As he found that he would need to be well-versed in Ancient Greek in order to properly inquire of the earliest known examples of the scriptures, Ehrman immersed himself in the study of Greek variances and linguistic regulation. After completing his course of study at Wheaton, Ehrman went to study at Princeton Theological Seminary, wherein Ehrman found his last remaining vestiges of faith put to the test by the religious professors there.
As he attempted to complete a paper on the Gospel of Mark, chapter 2, Ehrman attempted to discuss a passage that had long been pointed to as one that proved that the New Testament was, in fact, not completely inerrant: As Christ's disciples eat the grain of a wheat field while walking though it on the Sabbath (or holy day, wherein no observant Jew is allowed to work), Christ makes mention of King David and his army going to the consecrated temple of their time roughly 700-900 years earlier, partaking of the sacred shew bread that Hebrew Law deems verboten for non-clerical personnel to touch.
Christ rebuffs the ultra-legalistic Pharisees (a first-tier, well-heeled religious order of the Hebrew Nation and faith recorded as being singular remonstrators of Jesus' ministry) by stating that David's actions prove that “The Sabbath was made for humans, not humans for the Sabbath.” Christ is shown as stating that David ate the shew bread, “When Abiathar was the high priest.”
However, the text in what is known today as the “Old Testament” in Christian circles – the Jewish Tanakh – the character of Abiathar was not, in fact, the high priest. Rather, Ahemilech, Abiathar's father was (1 Samuel 21: 1-6). As Ehrman regarded himself as a still-devout Christian, he invented a rationale for this apparent discrepancy between the Jewish Tanakh and the Christian Old Testament with fanciful wording Ehrman now regards as “involved and a bit convoluted”.
Professor Story, the instructor at Princeton to whom Ehrman had accorded the assignment, looked at Ehrman's discussion points and simply made the following note: “maybe Mark just made a mistake.” From that time onward, Ehrman became ever more cynical about the validity of his faith. This book is fascinating not just merely in its revolutionary undertones and challenges to devout, biblically aware Christians, about the alleged finiteness of their faith. It proves engrossing, as it offers the reader the ability to watch the cumulative development of an erudite human being wrestling with the undertones of a historical record too important to ignore, yet seemingly too unfathomable to reconcile.
“Not only do we not have the originals,” Ehrman states, “we don't have the first copies of the originals. We don't even have copies of the copies of the originals, or copies of the copies of the copies of the copies of the originals. What we have are copies made centuries later and these copies all differ from one another, in many thousands of places.”
Ehrman echoes the declaration of most prominent biblical scholars, in stating that the New Testament contains “more differences among [the] manuscripts, then there are words in the New Testament.” If Ehrman is correct, the dilemma is this: how can a system of religion intent upon making pronouncements on correct behavior, as communicated by its allegedly deeply flawed records, be said to have merit?
The answer may be quite convoluted and engaging, for biblical scholar, layman philosopher and casual observer alike: is the utilization of fallible, human scribes attempting to transcribe numerous copies of the same words by hand, over a thousand years before the invention of the printing press enough to disparage the spiritual validity of the bible?
As this reviewer read one example of biblical inaccuracy posited by Ehrman concerning Christ's Sermon on the Mount (featured in Matthew 5), I had occasion to wonder about some of Ehrman's own ideas on biblical interpretation, irrespective of his advanced qualifications.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is shown at one point stating that “you have heard it said, 'you shall not commit adultery, but I say to you, 'whoever looks at a woman to lust after her in his heart has already committed adultery with her.’”
Ehrman declares that this passage is logistically problematic, as “it is hard to see how one can follow Moses' command to give a certificate of divorce, if in fact divorce is not an option.” With all due respect to Mr. Ehrman, this reviewer can recall an episode in the scriptures wherein Jesus is asked about the apparent antithetical nullification of his statements on divorce by religious thinkers of his day, to which Jesus replied, “Moses granted you a certificate for divorcement, because of the hardness of your hearts.”
It is here where the book approaches critical mass: it serves as a welcome addition to the centuries-old dispute about faith, consequences of meaning, spiritual understanding versus intellectual acumen and the possibilities of life and death being shrouded in secrecy...or biological functions of the present age.
According to Bart Ehrman, Chairman of the Department of Religious Studies at the University of North Carolina and life-long biblical scholar in his easily-followed-by-laymen journey though the early years of the Christian church, Misquoting Jesus: The Story Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why (HarperSanFrancisco, $24.95), the single most egregious producer of historical angst and sociological conflict the planet may have ever known very well may be the venerated collection of stories, spiritual dissertations and arguments collectively comprising the entirety of the Christian New Testament.
Ehrman briefly covers his personal quest for spiritual rejuvenation in the introduction, wherein he discusses how the tenor of this book has been a personal quest of sorts, ever since his pre-adolescence in Kansas, in the 1950s. Having been acclimated to the tales and teachings of the bible from a fastidiously devout mother who routinely read to her children from the scriptures, Ehrman grew to be a typical American.
When he had become a sophomore in high school, however, Ehrman recounts a spiritual transmogrification, wherein the bible became less the “mysterious book of some importance for religion”, and more a potent treatise on how to achieve a new-found level of comfort and fulfillment in the bosom of a loving messiah. While attending meetings of a local youth ministry in his hometown, Ehrman made the acquaintance of a charismatic, youthful-though-slightly-older ministerial guide referred to as “Bruce”. Bruce had an uncanny familiarity with the rudiments of scripture, which impressed the young Ehrman.
After high school, Ehrman decided to enroll at the hyper-conservative Moody Bible Institute, pursuing a degree in Biblical Theology. At Moody, Ehrman recounts how the entirety of the staff and students were required to sign a statement, wherein they affirmed that the bible was the absolute, inerrant word of God.
“There was an obvious problem,” Ehrman recollects in the introduction, “[...] with the claim that the Bible was verbally inspired.”
While a student at Moody, one of the most constant points of discussion on campus had been the idea of a lack of the original scripts of what we know today as the New Testament of the Bible. This did not result in a problem for most attendees at Moody, as they seemed content to rest assured in the inspired nature of the writings in general, in spite of not having what are called the Autographs, or originals,of the new testament.
After receiving his degree from Moody, Ehrman decided to attempt to become a highly educated, Evangelical scholar in the domicile of the conventional, secular academic circles of America. This, Ehrman reasoned, would entail attending an upper-loft evangelical college outside of Chicago called Wheaton College. Here, Ehrman would befriend many evangelical Christians who would prove unafraid of calling their faith into doubt. Whereas Ehrman initially found the idea of faith-questioning tantamount to outright, sinful wavering, Ehrman became convinced that there was a sincerity and humbling pursuit of the truth sought by his peers and instructors at Wheaton.
As he found that he would need to be well-versed in Ancient Greek in order to properly inquire of the earliest known examples of the scriptures, Ehrman immersed himself in the study of Greek variances and linguistic regulation. After completing his course of study at Wheaton, Ehrman went to study at Princeton Theological Seminary, wherein Ehrman found his last remaining vestiges of faith put to the test by the religious professors there.
As he attempted to complete a paper on the Gospel of Mark, chapter 2, Ehrman attempted to discuss a passage that had long been pointed to as one that proved that the New Testament was, in fact, not completely inerrant: As Christ's disciples eat the grain of a wheat field while walking though it on the Sabbath (or holy day, wherein no observant Jew is allowed to work), Christ makes mention of King David and his army going to the consecrated temple of their time roughly 700-900 years earlier, partaking of the sacred shew bread that Hebrew Law deems verboten for non-clerical personnel to touch.
Christ rebuffs the ultra-legalistic Pharisees (a first-tier, well-heeled religious order of the Hebrew Nation and faith recorded as being singular remonstrators of Jesus' ministry) by stating that David's actions prove that “The Sabbath was made for humans, not humans for the Sabbath.” Christ is shown as stating that David ate the shew bread, “When Abiathar was the high priest.”
However, the text in what is known today as the “Old Testament” in Christian circles – the Jewish Tanakh – the character of Abiathar was not, in fact, the high priest. Rather, Ahemilech, Abiathar's father was (1 Samuel 21: 1-6). As Ehrman regarded himself as a still-devout Christian, he invented a rationale for this apparent discrepancy between the Jewish Tanakh and the Christian Old Testament with fanciful wording Ehrman now regards as “involved and a bit convoluted”.
Professor Story, the instructor at Princeton to whom Ehrman had accorded the assignment, looked at Ehrman's discussion points and simply made the following note: “maybe Mark just made a mistake.” From that time onward, Ehrman became ever more cynical about the validity of his faith. This book is fascinating not just merely in its revolutionary undertones and challenges to devout, biblically aware Christians, about the alleged finiteness of their faith. It proves engrossing, as it offers the reader the ability to watch the cumulative development of an erudite human being wrestling with the undertones of a historical record too important to ignore, yet seemingly too unfathomable to reconcile.
“Not only do we not have the originals,” Ehrman states, “we don't have the first copies of the originals. We don't even have copies of the copies of the originals, or copies of the copies of the copies of the copies of the originals. What we have are copies made centuries later and these copies all differ from one another, in many thousands of places.”
Ehrman echoes the declaration of most prominent biblical scholars, in stating that the New Testament contains “more differences among [the] manuscripts, then there are words in the New Testament.” If Ehrman is correct, the dilemma is this: how can a system of religion intent upon making pronouncements on correct behavior, as communicated by its allegedly deeply flawed records, be said to have merit?
The answer may be quite convoluted and engaging, for biblical scholar, layman philosopher and casual observer alike: is the utilization of fallible, human scribes attempting to transcribe numerous copies of the same words by hand, over a thousand years before the invention of the printing press enough to disparage the spiritual validity of the bible?
As this reviewer read one example of biblical inaccuracy posited by Ehrman concerning Christ's Sermon on the Mount (featured in Matthew 5), I had occasion to wonder about some of Ehrman's own ideas on biblical interpretation, irrespective of his advanced qualifications.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is shown at one point stating that “you have heard it said, 'you shall not commit adultery, but I say to you, 'whoever looks at a woman to lust after her in his heart has already committed adultery with her.’”
Ehrman declares that this passage is logistically problematic, as “it is hard to see how one can follow Moses' command to give a certificate of divorce, if in fact divorce is not an option.” With all due respect to Mr. Ehrman, this reviewer can recall an episode in the scriptures wherein Jesus is asked about the apparent antithetical nullification of his statements on divorce by religious thinkers of his day, to which Jesus replied, “Moses granted you a certificate for divorcement, because of the hardness of your hearts.”
It is here where the book approaches critical mass: it serves as a welcome addition to the centuries-old dispute about faith, consequences of meaning, spiritual understanding versus intellectual acumen and the possibilities of life and death being shrouded in secrecy...or biological functions of the present age.
