January has been a a hellish month for me.  It started right away and hasn’t stopped since.  Following New Years day, my 92 year old grandfather went into the hospital for a routine checkup.  He died January 5th, 2012.  On the same day, my great-aunt passed away and, just a few days later, my great-uncle passed. These events were surreal and tragic in a way I can’t describe, no matter how much I’d like to be able to do so.

On top of this, I moved this month, my car died (twice), my Fall Semester started, I’ve been working on two papers (one on the figure of Jesus and one on the James ossuary), I just recently started a Freethought group, and I’m lecturing again starting this month.  So I have been extremely busy and emotionally raw and unable to really focus on my blogging responsibilities.  It’s just been a mess of a month.

Amidst my schedule, mourning for those I’ve lost, I’ve done my best to keep my head above water and I think now I’m starting to breathe normally again (rather than gasping for air whenever I start to feel the current of life tugging me back under).  So it is my hope that in February I will be blogging more regularly.   So stay tuned.

 Where: Discovery Center – New York

 When: January 8, 2012

 Overall Impression of the Exhibit:

Brief Introduction to the Exhibit:

Today I traveled to New York to see the much-acclaimed Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit at the Discovery Center (just off Times Square).  This is one of those exhibits I’ve been looking forward to seeing since I first found out about it when I went to the Discovery Center months ago to see the Pompeii exhibit.  Since they do not allow pictures to be taken of the exhibit, I brought along my Moleskine notepad and jotted down interesting or curious thoughts as I went along.

I arrived in NYC around 10:30 AM and had some time to kill, so I spent a good portion of it just walking around Times Square and taking in the city.  I was pleased to see that the exhibit was well-advertised; one would be blind or oblivious to walk around the area and not see signs for it.  Also, if you get to NYC often (or even if you go once in a while) be sure to stop in and eat at Carmines.  Superb food and service all around.

Banner leading into the exhibit.

Anyway, at around 12:50 PM I made my way to 44th St. and with some luck I managed to get into the exhibit without any problems, which was nice.  Earlier reviewers have complained about the long lines to get into the exhibit, the wait times between showings, and the speed at which one is rushed through the exhibit.  My experience, however, was anything but this; I was able to enter the exhibit quickly and with a small group and, while they did push us through the beginning of the exhibit so the group behind us could have room, I never felt as though I was being shoved along quickly.  In fact I went at my own pace.  One might chalk this up to the day and time I was there; most of the negative reviews seem to be around the holiday season when Times Square is no-doubt packed.

The group of us were corralled into a spacious room with huge projector screens.  The opening of the exhibit is a short burst of fun that plays with your senses.  You’re bombarded (in a good way) by both visual and audio experiences which filled me with excitement.  But even as I was anticipating an excellent exhibit, the hostess who spoke through this opening introduction made some curious, if not questionable, statements about the ancient past.

The First Part of the Exhibit and the Claims of a ‘Biblical Israel’:

When it comes to ancient history, ‘fact’ is a term used fast and loose.  Scholars tend to be very cautious when making claims or asserting anything.  There are reasons for this.  Ever make an absolute claim to someone (e.g., ‘The world is only 6,000 years old!’) only to find out later you were wrong?   Well in order to avoid icky embarrassment (among other more important reasons, like remaining open to the possibility of being wrong when all the facts aren’t in yet), scholars will try to avoid making absolute claims about things, whether it be about the interpretation of a particular passage or verse or a translation, etc….  Thus if the scholar is shown to be wrong (usually through the process of peer review or through further research), the scholar maintains credibility and their hypotheses can be easily changed or adjusted to fit the new data (‘beliefs’ are much harder to change; despite all the evidence people still believe the world is 6,000 years old).

First part of the exhibit. Photo from: http://www.discoverytsx.com/exhibitions/dead-sea-scrolls

Unfortunately, this exhibit does not do a very good job at playing the ‘cautious’ game.  Right away the hostess made the claim that the Bible was written 3,000 years ago (c. 1000 BCE).  But while some scholars do in fact believe this to be the case, the question of when certain texts of the Hebrew Bible were written is still hotly debated.  Those who often argue for a 1000 BCE composition of the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Hebrew Bible), for example, are often arguing from a very conservative (if not politically- and/or a religiously-charged) position.  This isn’t always the case, but often it is.  The issues are not as black and white as ‘the Hebrew Bible was composed around 1000 BCE’; there are matters of nuance that cannot simply be pushed aside to favor a conservative dating.

Initially I just assumed that the hostess was generalizing for the lay audience (and it was likely she was a layperson herself) and I wasn’t about to stand up and challenge her (I’m trying to enjoy the exhibit like everyone else).  When she completed her introduction and the fancy projections were through, the group of us were sent through the doors into the first part of the exhibit.  As I walked along and read the notes next to the artifacts, I couldn’t help but feel a little discouraged.

Once more the wool was draped over the eyes of the layperson when direct claims were made about certain stelae–like the Tel Dan and Merneptah stelae–which favored not only an early conservative dating of the Hebrew Bible but also a united monarchy under David and Solomon.  One plaque read of the Merneptah Stele:

[The Merneptah Stele] refers to “Israel” at this time as a people living somewhere in Canaan. 

This is quite the claim.  While yes, there are scholars out there who might argue the stele talks about a ‘people’, others are not so sure and, once more, this issue is contended.   And then there is the matter of what the stele says about Israel; it doesn’t mention anywhere that they were living in Canaan but that they were desolated there (‘their seed is laid waste’).  And even that translation (and its meaning) is contested.

Then there was the sign that that read ‘Birth of a Nation’ and its contents were mainly about another hotly debated subject: the united monarchy.  I’m not making any specific claims about the stele here or about the existence of a ‘Biblical Israel’, but then again neither should the exhibit.  One has to wonder why a whole section of the exhibit which is dedicated to the Dead Sea Scrolls spends so much time on what many of my colleagues would call ‘Biblical History’ or ‘Biblical Archaeology’.  If anything, ‘nation’ should be the last word used to describe any ancient socio-cultural entity since ‘nation’ is a modern designation for a specific type of state and using it on the ancient ‘Israelites’ is nothing but an anachronistic political move rather than anything proper for an exhibit about the past.

But this part of the exhibit did have some redeeming features.  For one thing they discuss idols and household figurines showing the more diverse cultural dynamic of the Hill Country of Palestine early on in its history.  I am familiar with these votive statues, known as ‘Asherah trees/poles’, and the henotheistic/polytheistic beliefs of the region early on in its history.  But the voice-actor who explained the Asherah votives refrained from calling them what they were, instead refering to them as if they were simple luck charms rather than the cultic objects of worship that they probably were.  That they were there on display at all was good to see.

Actually, despite all the politically-motivated rhetoric, all the pieces on display were fantastic and it is clear they were well taken care of by the IAA.  I have to say that while some perhaps more religious laypeople might enjoy this part of the exhibit, those more critical of the Biblical narratives will find it mind-numbingly annoying.  I was mortified by the rhetoric, but I still enjoyed having a close look at objects I’ve wanted to see in person for some time.

The Main Event: The Dead Sea Scrolls…

Down the stairs from the first half of the exhibit was the main display, the second half I had been waiting for: the Dead Sea Scrolls.  I was looking forward to seeing not just the scrolls (because manuscripts are something I’d like to work with someday as a professional) but loads (oodles and oodles, I believe, is the technical phrasing) of artifacts from the digs at Qumran and surrounding areas.

Down the stairs I went and in the center of the room was a circular display table with the scrolls illuminated around it.  All in all there were ten scrolls on display featuring:

1. Paleo-Leviticus
2. Aramaic Levi
3. Isaiah Commentary
4. Book of War
5. Minor Prophets (in Greek)
6. Apocryphal Lamentations
7. Psalms
8. Community Rule
9. Deuteronomy ‘Song of Moses’
10. Pseudo-Ezekial

I have to say I found it fascinating.  Being up close to a scroll like that which is also extremely old is really an awesome experience.  I wasn’t just looking at it on a page of a book but I was actively able to review it, see the old etched lines the scribes used to maintain straight writing across the scroll (they ‘hang’ from the lines), follow along with the Greek first hand.  One particular item I found worthy of note is that on the scroll written in Greek (Minor Prophets) every once in a while you come across the paleo-Hebrew word ‘god’.  This suggests, at least to me, that the scribes were likely multilingual.  But while I really enjoyed the scrolls, there were some other issues I found (or thought were missing completely) throughout the second half of the exhibit that I think should be raised.

The round display area featuring the scrolls. Photo: http://www.discoverytsx.com/

First, I was disappointed in the limited amount of artifacts featured from Qumran.  Aside from a few jars (and obviously the scrolls) nothing of any significance that I can remember was on hand for the exhibit.  And I really spent some time looking.  Instead, pieces from Jerusalem, Masada, and other digs were prominent surrounding the Dead Sea Scrolls which was upsetting.  I thought I had bought tickets to see the Dead Sea Scrolls and to find out more about the Qumran area. Instead I felt I had been swindled into paying for and listening to a lecture about ‘ancient Israel’ given by William Dever.   It isn’t even that I wouldn’t want to listen to Dever speak (I would, if only because I’ve read him and hear so much about him from colleagues), but at least tell me that beforehand so I know for what I’m paying.

Frankly I wasn’t there to look at Byzantine crosses and menorahs (though I did find them all very interesting regardless) and I certainly didn’t care for the random section of stone from the Western Wall (its a fun tradition, but how does it even begin to fit in with the theme of the Dead Sea?).  I don’t care if the event was sponsored by Hershel Shanks (I don’t think it was, though some of his books were featured at the gift shop)–and believe me when I say some of it felt as though I had walked into a copy of BAR–I wanted to see what I came there to see.  In the end I saw pieces I could just as easily see at UPenn (and for a whole hellova lot less than I paid for my ticket at the Discovery Center).

I was also dismayed to find that they consider the Dead Sea Scrolls to be a part of a sectarian effort (that is to say, that the scrolls were penned by a single sect).  While they never straight out claimed the Essenes wrote the scrolls (as Geza Vermes does, and while he is estimable and learned I respectfully disagree with this conclusion),  the constant reference to a ‘sectarian group’ was, I felt, misleading.  There are too many troubling issues to contend with when one claims all the scrolls came from a singular source.  We can’t know that.  Many scholars feel this is the likely case (I don’t), but I don’t know of many who are so quick to claim with any certainty that it is a fact.  Yet, once again, this exhibit does portray this hypothesis as a fact.  It is an unfortunate and uncritical problem repeated throughout the exhibit.

A Final Subject of Note: Talpiot Ossuaries at the Dead Sea Scroll Exhibit?

Talpiot Ossuaries. Yep, these guys. They were there.

Hell yes they were there.  And why?  What reason could they possibly have been there?  I can’t say.  What I can say is I was in shock when I saw them.  I probably grumbled a few select words that were not very professional.  But needless to say the ossuaries from the Talpiot tomb, including the ‘James ossuary’ currently on trial with a possible (probable) forged inscription, were there.

The inscription issue is a tedious subject to get into on a review post of an exhibit, so I won’t.  But others have written on it and I can at least direct the reader to them:

Mark Goodacre (Duke University) has a great series of posts on this:

• http://ntweblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/jesus-family-tomb-website-errors-and.html
• http://ntweblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/talpiot-tomb-and-bloggers-iii-when.html

Joe Zias (Formerly of the IAA; currently of the Science and Archaeology Group at the Hebrew University):

• http://www.joezias.com/talpiot.htm
• http://www.joezias.com/tomb.html

On the Mariamne inscription:

• http://www.uhl.ac/MariameAndMartha/

Thankfully, the exhibit doesn’t claim anything as extravagant or as specious as Simcha Jacobovici.  From the notes next to the ossuaries in the handout:

These six ossuaries, found in a tomb in Jerusalem, have inscriptions
that included the names “Jesus,” “Mary,” “Joseph.” While it might be
tempting to claim this tomb belonged to Jesus and his family, these
names are in fact extremely common in the Second temple period.
The New Testament reports that Jesus’ body was placed in the tomb
of a prominent follower named Joseph of Arimathea. Since the early
fourth century Christians have venerated the site of Jesus’ burial at
the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem’s old City.

But even this may be more misleading than it needs to; of course this is the Discovery Center and Discovery did produce, with James Cameron, Simcha Jacobovici’s docudrama ‘The Jesus Family Tomb’ from years ago, and to which this ‘discovery’ (i.e. the ossuaries)  is attached.

Conclusions and Rating

I’ve been very critical of this exhibit, but don’t take my criticisms for displeasure on my part.  I had a great time.  It was a fun experience and I’d recommend it to anyone, so long as they take my criticisms to heart (in the sense that they remain skeptical of the assertions made by the exhibit and also fact-check everything they read, including this blog!).  There is nothing quite like exploring the ancient world through archaeology and, aside from going out on a dig yourself, going to these sorts of exhibits make for a fun outing.

Because I enjoyed the people and the pieces, I rated it favorably.  I suspect that others may rate it differently depending on the direction their ideologies sway, but overall I tend to think my review has been more positive (if not more critical) than most.  Some things I found discouraging which is why I took away from points.  Still, if you get the chance, go check out the exhibit and, if you think I’ve erred somewhere or if you think I’m being unfair, I’d love to hear from you.

Edit: Jim West provided this video of Dr. Lawrence Schiffman on the exhibit:

My story above is becoming a common one.  But there is more happening here than simply the interjections of a rude person.  In that ten seconds of dialogue, something is lost that is really the tragedy of this whole ‘war on Christmas’ that FOX News has so eagerly forced upon the public.    The loss is the loss of sincerity.  That employee wasn’t trying to insult me, or start a debate, or infuse secularism into our culture.  That employee wasn’t trying to offend the rude person behind me in line.  The employee was only trying to be courteous.  They didn’t know me from Adam and, rather than making the assumption that I’m a Christian, he went with the generic ‘Happy Holidays’.  And by that, as a sane human being, I was able to recognize that he meant he hoped that I had a joyous celebration of whatever holiday I practice.

But as a result of this ridiculous ‘war on Christmas’ nonsense, that employee was castrated by someone behind me; someone he had to now check-out.  Unlike me, who can walk away, he had to stay there and listen to that person rant about how the secular agendas of the socialist government are stripping away the rights of Christians, blah blah blah.  And as a result of that, that employee may be hesitant to wish anyone a Happy Holidays, or a Merry Christmas, or a Happy Hanukkah, for fear of being chastised for it.  All sincerity he had, all the joy he had, stripped from him because some jerk who follows Glenn Beck on Facebook couldn’t mind his own business.

There is another side to this story, though.  Because since that event, every time someone wishes me a Merry Christmas, I get a twitch.  Are they being sincere or just nudging me to say something back, just to get a rise out of me, or to start a debate.  Are they being serious?  Sarcastic?  Cynical?  I can’t tell anymore.  My ‘sincerity meter’ is broken.  And that is a real shame.  I love this time of year.  I love the idea of the holiday season.  I like the ideal Dickens Christmas.  It doesn’t have to be religious for me; it certainly wasn’t religious for Dickens.

This season is supposed to be about charity, and good works, and family fun, and feeling new and whole again with the start of a new year just around the corner.  Instead I’m pulling the hood over my head and shadowing myself from season’s greetings because I am afraid to get into a polemical battle of rhetoric over the ‘reason for the season’.    I have to drive behind people with ‘Keep Christ in Christmas’ bumper stickers, most of whom have no idea how ludicrous those stickers are really.  I doubt I am the only one disenchanted this year.

The irony of it all is that secularism isn’t trying to take Christmas away; it was secularism that gave us Christmas, the way we celebrate it today, in the first place.  When the Puritans came to this continent, they outlawed the celebration of Christmas.  They didn’t come here for religious freedom.  Religious freedom implies that they came here to start a colony where other religions could practice peacefully.  No, they kicked you out if you practiced any other religion other than their own.  The first place in this country that celebrated ‘religious freedom’ was the colony of Rhode Island (originally Providence) when its founder was kicked out of the Massachusetts Bay colony because he had different religious views.  It was also the first colony to renounce the British during the Revolutionary War period.

Christmas was not a part of American culture.  Protestants didn’t really celebrate it–certainly not the Puritans and Quakers, but Catholics did and Catholics were not the most beloved citizens of the time.  It was not until the Victorian period, until Dickens and Irving idealized Christmas, that it became fashionable to celebrate.  And even still, it was not made a legal holiday until after the American Civil War.  And in a large sense, Christmas was secularized so that protestants could also celebrate it; it was no longer just a Catholic religious celebration but a celebration that became, truly, a universal holiday.  For coverage, I direct your attention to Jon Stewart:

 http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-december-6-2011/tree-fighting-ceremony?xrs=share_copy

In one part of the segment Stewart trusted the History Channel and as a result suffered a pants on fire rating from Politifact (whoops!), proving one again that the History Channel does not live up to its name and, frankly, is untrustworthy (though lay people will continue to trust it, regardless).  Despite this, Stewart is correct about almost everything else.  And he makes his case quite well, even with his one incorrect statement about legislative branch.

Though I would like to make it clear I am not ‘against Christmas’.    In fact I think ‘Merry Christmas’ has a place in the season, just as does ‘Happy Holidays’ or ‘Seasons Greetings’.   I have a post on it here:

• “War on Christmas”? How About “War on Cultural Milieux”?

I am greatly concerned this time of year for the sincerity that has been a part of this season since the late 19th century.  If we don’t act towards preserving it, it will be lost to us.  It will become a cynical season, one where nobody trusts anybody and everyone is more concerned about the polemics of the debate than about giving to each other regardless of religious, social, or cultural backgrounds. It is upsetting to think that this part of the season is doomed.  But if certain people have their way, we can kiss the joy of this season goodbye.

Two co-hosts interviewing Hitchens at the conference.

In the world of myths, there are gods and there are men, and by myth here, I mean beings that far exceed the standards of normalcy.  Of course, on the former Christopher Hitchens had strong opinions which, I’m sure, are not lost on any of my readers.  But rest assured, if a man could achieve the heights of immortality, while also having a strong opinion about it, Christopher Hitchens was that man.

Enough will be said about his accomplishments, which were extraordinary, and of his controversial views, which were numerous.  So I’ll leave those duties for the media.  In this post, I’d like to only touch upon my deep grief at his passing and the few moments where my life and his life intersected, and the impression he left on me.

A few years ago, when I was still young and foolish, I had the pleasure of meeting Hitchens.  At the time, I was a part of a radio show and we asked him, among others, to sit down with us for a personal interview.  Hitchens happily obliged.   Unfortunately I missed part of that interview, but he more than made up for it when we ran into each other later in the hotel bar (it was at a conference).

He had dropped something on the ground, a notepad, so I picked it up and walked it over to him.  He made a funny quip about the interview being far too short and then shared a drink with me for a few more minutes until his cab came.  We had a few laughs, shared some insightful thoughts about the state of the world, and then he was gone.

At another point (I cannot recall for the life of me if it was before or after) we had another long interview with Hitchens.  Every time we spoke to him, we came away feeling as though we had just engaged life in a new way; we were re-energized, motivated.  He had that sort of personality, at least that was how we knew him.

I was devastated when I found out he had cancer.   When I read this evening that he had passed away, I had to fight back tears.  It isn’t even that I agree with Hitchens; I enjoyed reading his words, I enjoyed talking to him, but I can’t really say I fully supported his opinions on most subjects.  And isn’t it something that I should be so affected by the passing of a man I shared a drink with at a conference but once?  Telling, I’d like to think, of the sort of human being that Hitchens had been.  That he could reach across ideological boundaries, that he could communicate to people who completely disagreed with him–Christians, Muslims, even Democrats–in such a way that people still loved him.

I will surely miss Christopher Hitchens.  The world will be much more dull without his personality.  Please read Vanity Fair’s piece on him.

In Memoriam: Christopher Hitchens, 1949–2011 | Blogs | Vanity Fair.

Many of my readers know I have been reticent to discuss matters of god; while I voice my opinion about a particular interpretation or an eisegetical understanding of the figure ‘god’, I often avoid the debate over the deity’s existence all together.  There are several reasons for this reticence and, perhaps for the first time in a long time, I’d like to break my silence on the issue.  But fair warning, once I finish writing this post, I suspect I shall put to rest any further comment about the subject for a while more.

If I’m going to be blunt about it, I find the whole ‘does god exist’ question to be a boring one.  To be fair, it wasn’t always some banal subject for me. At an all-too-recent point in my life, the question played a large role in defining my self-concept.  I lived by it, and I had lots of questions; I just thought I had more answers.  I won’t say I was a fundamentalist about it, but I had grown dogmatic.  I lived by a set of precepts, and by ‘lived’ I mean I was ‘blinded’ by them.  Perhaps that isn’t entirely fair either.  My anger, my frustration–a direct result of the question of the existence of a god–blinded me from the destructive influences these precepts had on my life.

At one point I ceased trying to talk to people who did not agree with me.  The fabric of the fictional weave, or mythos, I had woven about anyone with even a modicum of faith kept me at a distance.  And when I ventured close, it was only to ridicule them, or debate them, and usually this only happened on my own turf.  And I wasn’t alone.  The sectarianism of the movement fueled me, kept me charged, able to proceed in my own grandiose delusions about the devaluation of belief.  It was pathetic. I was pathetic.

But something happened.  I don’t know what it is.  It was not stress, though some of my former ‘colleagues’ (I just don’t know what to call them) might argue that it was.  Frankly, I have never been able to put a finger on the variable that snapped me from my meaningless, selfish existence.  A lot was crashing down at that point, and among the debris I started to see the shattered pieces of the life I had been living scattered before me.  It was as if I had taken part in some archaeological dig and came across fragments with my image on them, and while I saw my face clearly in the shards I could not recognize the person I was seeing.  It was something from which I wanted to distance myself.

I struggled with this at first, tried to recall at what point my life had taken this awkward turn towards the path on which I had only just realized I had been treading.  But the only real memory I could find was the one that had kept all that aggression.  It was at that point then that I decided that whatever it was that had driven me towards this question had become irrelevant.  While I could easily recount the moment I left my faith in the Christian god behind, I could no longer find the emotion that I had, at that point in my life, useful; not nearly as useful as any of the questions that had begun to take its place.

I can easily understand, even appreciate, the confusion that followed (and, apparently, is still prevalent) when I left the movement behind.  But whoever I was then, I’m not now.  It is unfortunate that the Inter Highway does not have a time-concept.  That is to say, only a handful of the people who knew me then will read this now.  And more people will come across those words I wrote years ago and will be unable to separate that dead individual from the man I currently am (and from the one I will become).  It is disheartening, in a way, and hopefully they will forget the name of that person as quickly as they happened upon it.  But if they search me out, it is for them that I write this post.

For those who I left behind in my journey, I have no words of comfort for you.  I suspect that you are either filled with disgust, with acceptance, or are just noncommittal.  Maybe you’re working up a response.  Of course I welcome any discussion.  But it might be important now to note that I have not even yet ventured at an answer to the question ‘does god exist?’  I have refused to answer.  I do not wish to indulge your egotism, your wish to label me, to place me in some convoluted category.  To hell with that.  If you want to judge me, do so on my positions in other more serious matters.  Do not trouble me with your bothersome rantings about the pointlessness or the value in the exultation of faith.

If you feel the urge to tell the world your position on the matter, I pity you.  The question over the existence of god has ceased to be an intellectual pursuit in this radicalized society and has, instead, become one drawn-out session of  incontinence after another (and I’m being polite about it).  If you, adventurous reader, enjoy those sorts of discussions, of what I can only view as a form of masochism or the results of some type of virulent piety, then by all means, don’t let me stop you.  Just leave me out of it.

Giorgio Tsoukalos argued in his latest issue of the estimable, peer-reviewed academic journal Legendary Times that this is certainly evidence that David was working with ancient aliens to build the Temple.  He stated, “What other conclusion can we draw from this?  It is sooooo (sic!) obvious t hat these are ancient alien glyphs of some sort, which only means that the Exodus account wasn’t really about the Egyptians at all!  The Hebrews were escaping enslavement in the mines under Jerusalem from the aliens!  This must mean they were using the Israelites to mine ore for their ships!  Only a blind idiot could miss this connection!”

David Elkington and Wayne Herschel were both able to be reached for comment.  Herschel merely stated that this was just more evidence that the lead codices were secret alien passports.  Elkington reiterated that Peter Thonemann was only a Greek scholar and didn’t know what he was talking about, which apparently baffled journalists who had only asked him his thoughts on the new discovery.

The greatest Biblical scholar of the world, Hershel Shanks, noted that he would be publishing a special issue of BAR (also the greatest academic archaeology journal of all time, beating out its main competition from ASOR) to show how this was (a) not a forgery, (b) Golan is innocent, (c) that Bill Dever was right all along, and (d) to dedicate even more space to evangelical advertising campaigns.

Tom makes some good points, but as usual, I think he goes too far. First, the Gospels were written long after Paul who were fighting other leading voices at the time, proclaiming Jesus.

This is, of course, true.   My point is that Paul converted into something.  Some sectarian Jewish tradition existed of which Paul became a part; what that tradition looked like before Paul we cannot say with any certainty.  We hope it looked similar to what Paul wrote about, but we have no other witness to this sectarian tradition outside of Paul and some of what exists in Paul’s letters, we know were later interpolations (like the verse where Paul tells women to be silent in churches, for example–something Paul probably didn’t write).  But one thing is certain, some of what Paul wrote about were memes.  He might not have called them memes but he pulls on common archetypical figures and motifs (the two metaphorical women, Abraham, Moses, the several divisions of heaven, the breaking of the bread and sharing of the wine as body and blood, the use of mystic/secret language like τελειος, and so on) in his letters in which he wraps around a singular idea: salvation (in itself a common sectarian meme of the time).  The Gospels were written after Paul, yes, but they were written quite possibly with Paul in mind (possibly Mark himself had copies of some of Paul’s letters; Luke certainly did).

Okay, so I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this, but let me point out that Judith is based on Yael. Tobit, well… There is a difference between Aesop’s Fables and Josephus’ Wars of the Jews.

Apples and oranges.  Both use memes in different ways and Josephus goes ahead and fabricates narratives from scratch to suit his agendas as well.  Like Alexander’s march on Jerusalem, for example.  There are people, whole people, Josephus just fabricates for the sake of it.  Some even argue the Essenes were ideological fabrications by Josephus on what the ‘perfect Jewish sect’ should look like.  Judith is still fiction, whether based on Yael or not.  Wonder Woman  might be based on a woman the creator of the comic knew in real life; that doesn’t make the story any more fact-based than what it is.

Tobit would fall into the former, but the Gospels into neither, although baring marks of both.

I wonder how one could claim the Gospels were in any way similar to Josephus.  With the one exception being the fabrication of events, there is simply no comparison.  I would love to see Joel argue compellingly for a genre comparison between the two forms.

But I still believe Joel is missing the point.  It is about memes here, and every narrative I list, whether history or fiction, is full of memes that destroy history by selling fiction.

Enoch was written in an apocalyptic style and used a figure from Scripture to give it authority.

And is full of memes like apocalyptic revelations, ascension narratives, angels, and so on.   Even the style (apocalyptic) is a meme!  Fascinating stuff, mimetics.

It doesn’t posit a new faith but reports an old prophecy which was to the community it was addressing. I’m not sure that one could stretch those three books and collections of writings to the study of the Historical Jesus and come to the conclusion that Tom seems to be suggesting.

I’m not sure what is that conclusion you think I’m suggesting!

Another point is that the Gospels, as I noted, were written long after Paul was preaching Jesus and using the Historical Jesus (his, not Tom Wright’s) to base his own ministry off of.

Interesting.  What ministry is it that Paul cites in his letters?  I know of not a single instance where Jesus’ ministry is ever mentioned.

One would have to insist that Paul alone was making up the story of Jesus, and thereby creating a new tradition which was met with others doing the same but not the same.

Absolutely not.  I don’t know how you drew that conclusion from what I wrote.

If Acts is historical in any way, then Paul was very close to the Historical Jesus.

Alas, Acts is far from historical.  This is quite easily demonstrated.

In other words, one must insist that the Jesus mythos developed differently, over different geographical locations, at nearly the same time which would then lead to other questions which are completely implausible.

The mythos of Jesus, assuming you mean the death, resurrection, and ascension, had developed over different geographical locations over time.  But Joel, we are talking about memes here.  Memes.  Nothing then generates ex nihilo.  The Gospel authorsmight never have heard of Innana, who was crucified naked (humiliated), died, and resurrected to new glory.  But they probably knew of other resurrection stories like Romulus.  Or other figures who died and resurrected like Orpheus.  Or even if they were simply fans of Jewish literature, completely isolated from pagan influences, they would know of ascension narratives like those of Moses, Enoch, and Elijah.

When you say ‘mythos of Jesus’ remember what it is you’re talking about.  You’re talking about a literary collection of motifs, archetypes, and tropes: memes.  That is what I’m talking about, at least.  We can quibble over the human Jesus, but first you have to find him in between those memes, somewhere, if he can ever be found–if such a figure ever existed.

Further, I would encourage Tom to look at just how long it would have taken a story to take root. McCasland (1935, I think?) suggests no more than 5 years in the ancient world, citing the legends which grew up around Vespasian. Taking Vespasian as an example, Josephus was writing within just a few years of the actual event and was able to greatly expand the legends of the Emperor who defeated the Jews. Yet, it only worked because it was based on a real person.

A new study is presented, arguing for a faster exchange of data than that, by K.L. Noll in my forthcoming collection of essays with Thompson.   But it is an irrelevant position anyway; in whisper-down-the-alley, memes can change in seconds when people are right next to each other.  That is the struggle with memes.  And the struggle with oral history, and the struggle with literature.

Let me put it to you like this.  You stage a picture in your backyard, using models, wearing the clothes you like, playing a sport of some sort that you really enjoy (let’s say soccer, since I love soccer).  Is that a picture of the socio-cultural landscape of today?  Of course it isn’t.  It’s an image of what some might believe to be an ideal socio-cultural landscape.  It might contain some historically significant information.  Maybe it contains a street sign in the background, maybe there is a tag showing on a piece of clothing, maybe the soccer ball has a team logo on it.  But is that picture going to be worth something?  Maybe, but not really.

Now let’s put this another way (more relevant to the Gospel authors).  Let’s say I watch an episode of That 70′s Show.  I go out, grab some clothing I think best resembles clothing from the 70′s, and I get some people together who I think look like they could be from that era, and then I dress them up and have a photo shoot.  Could I then take that to a historian of that period and claim that the image is a historical witness to the historical 70′s?  Absolutely not.  The best I could argue is that it is a representation of what I think the 70′s were like, based on solely my understanding of a single episode of That 70′s Show.  That is mimetics at work.

That is the Gospel narratives in a nutshell.  It is a Gospel author, drawing from various memes, creating a scene or image (through literary means) which expresses his particular understanding of the time, through his theological lens (whichever one that might have been), and claiming it to be a historical witness to a figure.  In truth, and at best, all the Gospels amount to are representations of the figure of Jesus.  And whatever historical information they contain can be collected into a single paragraph (mainly Herod, Pilate, Jerusalem, Bethany, Caesar, the Pax Romana, the Temple; in other words–the historical value is the background–the setting–of the narrative).  Memes drove the creation of the Gospel.

That doesn’t mean there wasn’t a historical figure at the onset, but it does make finding or locating that figure even more difficult.  And it is possible that such a figure never existed at all, given the state of how mimetics works.  That doesn’t mean I am saying he didn’t exist.  Only that the possibility is there.

Also, this notion that we can use the Gospels to discover the Historical Jesus, I am becoming convinced, is a misplaced avenue of academic pursuit.

Then we have no disagreements.  I wonder Joel if you’re not talking past me here?  ;-)

Joel has more useful things to say that I did not engage.  Go there and read it!

The video is replicated by several users on Youtube, none make clear where these events are taking place.  Many believe this video is a clip of a real event.  And that, if anything, is a testament to the acting and believability of the comedy show Reno 911.  This DUI win is from an episode on that program.  It was written, produced, and directed for entertainment, it was manufactured to gain ratings, and never was it meant to be taken seriously (that is to say, it was not meant to be taken as a true, historical event).  But with the power of memes, this all changed.

In our age of digital technology, we  tend to believe we can spot a fake and are more critical of the things we watch, read, or hear.  It could, after all, be a fabrication by an amateur graphics artist, or a graphics animator, or something else.  But even with all of our cynicism and skepticism, many people fall for even the most obvious fictions.  A simple Google search would reveal that this video was taken from Reno 911.  But so many people believed the event had happened, they wrote Snopes.com about it, who then published this page showing its origins in 2005.  Yet the video is still reposted as a true event today.

This should cause every historian to pause; when examining the function of memes in our culture, in our modern day, we have to be cautious.  But in a world, such as the ancient world, where beliefs in fanciful things are normal, where skepticism wasn’t as common, and where fact-checking was all but irrelevant (or nonexistent), what might that say about the information we have?  What are the implications towards ancient literature, then?  This, of course, has implications on the historical Jesus.

If a figure hadn’t existed in antiquity, and the Gospels were written as fictitious edification or as theological narratives (like Tobit, 1 Enoch, or Judith for example), is it possible or even probable that a small sectarian group might have taken them to be fact?  And given the speed at which word spreads in antiquity, the amount of time it took to travel, the cross-cultural boundaries that these stories passed over or through to reach their destinations, what might that tell us about the function of ‘history’ in the past?  What might that tell us about the value of the New Testament as a historical collection of books about the early church?

Memes can effectively destroy both ‘fiction’ and ‘history’ at the same time by passing off fictional stories as history.  They do so in our own age as often as they did in antiquity; and examples can, of course, be given to no end.  We have plenty of examples, perhaps in the hundreds if not more, of this sort of thing happening all the time.  A story is completely fabricated, for whatever reason (motivation is secondary to this discussion), and in a few years time, it is believed or accepted–if not wholly as true, then partially.  And this is in antiquity, where information traveled at a much slower pace than at which it travels today.

Just some food for thought.

DO watch it!