Friday, August 19, 2005
The Case for Christ
I recently picked up a copy of Lee Strobel's much-heralded defense of the historical (and spiritual) Jesus Christ, The Case for Christ. After reading approximately 50% of the work, I am convinced that a better title would have been The Case for Christian Credulity.
For those who are unfamiliar with Strobel's work, here is a brief summary. Lee Strobel is a graduate of Yale Law School (he earned something called a "Masters of Studies in Law," which indicates that he completed what roughly amounts to the first 1/3rd of a JD program) who formerly served as a legal editor of the Chicago Tribune. His pedigree is unforgettable, if only because, throughout the book, Mr. Strobel constantly reminds the reader of his credentials. In any case, the book basically presents a litigation-style case for the historical reality of the Jesus of the Bible. Strobel seeks out and questions various experts, whose fields of study include theology, history, liguistics, archaeology, psychology, etc. Although Mr. Strobel would like his readers to believe that his role is akin to that of an impartial judge or jury member, it is more analagous to that of an attorney interviewing potential expert witnesses. Strobel chooses only experts who agree with his final conclusion; this is true even when he seeks to evaluate the merits of work that contradicts his views. What's more, the author's selection of experts includes only men who are devout Christians. In short, Strobel is looking for reassurance from scholars who he knows will vigorously uphold his final, predetermined conclusion. His quest is to construct one-sided advocacy, not find the truth.
All the while, Strobel nods approvingly to even the most plainly absurd of explanations. One example, which I will share below, was the inspiration for creating this thread. When reading TCFC last night, I came across this doozey and about fell out of my chair from laughing so hard. So, without further ado, I present my Case for the Credulity of Lee Strobel.
In his chapter dealing with the work of the infamous Jesus Seminar, which Strobel labels the "rebuttal evidence," the author interviews "Ivy League-educated theology professor" and pastor of the Woodland Hills Church, Gregory Boyd. See Strobel at p. 112. While the entire interview is full of logical fallacies, my favorite occurred during Strobel and Boyd's discussion of the non-canonical Cross Gospel. When queried as to the credibility of the Cross Gospel, Boyd responded:
"No, most scholars don't give it credibility, because it includes such outlandishly legendary material. For instance, Jesus comes out of his tomb and he's huge - he goes up beyond the sky - and the cross comes out of the tomb and actually talks! Obviously, the much more sober gospels are more reliable than anything found in this account."
Strobel at p. 123.
Strobel never questions this assessment. He moves on to another gospel, presumably satisfied with a theory that distinguishes the genuine accounts of Jesus Christ from the frauds on the basis of the "outlandishly legendary" nature of the material. Strobel is comfortable with the idea that a giant Jesus and a talking cross are too obviously mythical to be believed. However, he completely ignores the necessary consequence of such a test: the canonical gospels, along with pretty much the entire Old Testament, Acts and most of the New Testament epistles, must fail this same test of legitimacy. Talking crosses are too outlandish to be believed? You'll get no argument from me, but don't try to sell me on the idea of having a conversation with inflamed shrubbery. A giant Jesus is absurd? Fair enough. But, so also is a giant Philistine, or a Jesus who walks on water, or a Jesus who flies into Heaven.
Boyd's major basis for distinguishing between one set of gospels and all of the rest is simply laughable, and yet Yale Law School partial-graduate Lee Strobel (did I mention that he has years of experience as a legal reporter and is Ivy League-educated?) failed to pick up on such an obvious flaw.
While the scene above is clearly one example of an error of logic in TCFC, it is important to note that it is representative of an epidemic of fallacy in Strobel's work. Throughout the book, Strobel employs specious reasoning and demonstrates an inability to recognized or challenge obvious flaws in the rationale of his supposed experts. Strobel introduces each of his chosen experts with an embarrassing appeal to authority; their education, publications, and even their stereotypically intelligent appearance are described in excrutiating detail as if such superficial nonsense will lend credence to the snippets of opinion that follow. Each interview is a series of softball questions followed by hollow answers lacking detail followed by either a softball follow-up or a gullible affirmation by the author. The expert "testimony" is generally lacking in substance and very, very few citations are made. We are supposed to believe the expert's typically summary conclusions for no other reason besides their impressive resumes and nerdy personas.
I will continue to read the book, if only because it is an incredibly easy read and a fertile source of ammunition with which to critique fundamentalist "logic."
For those who are unfamiliar with Strobel's work, here is a brief summary. Lee Strobel is a graduate of Yale Law School (he earned something called a "Masters of Studies in Law," which indicates that he completed what roughly amounts to the first 1/3rd of a JD program) who formerly served as a legal editor of the Chicago Tribune. His pedigree is unforgettable, if only because, throughout the book, Mr. Strobel constantly reminds the reader of his credentials. In any case, the book basically presents a litigation-style case for the historical reality of the Jesus of the Bible. Strobel seeks out and questions various experts, whose fields of study include theology, history, liguistics, archaeology, psychology, etc. Although Mr. Strobel would like his readers to believe that his role is akin to that of an impartial judge or jury member, it is more analagous to that of an attorney interviewing potential expert witnesses. Strobel chooses only experts who agree with his final conclusion; this is true even when he seeks to evaluate the merits of work that contradicts his views. What's more, the author's selection of experts includes only men who are devout Christians. In short, Strobel is looking for reassurance from scholars who he knows will vigorously uphold his final, predetermined conclusion. His quest is to construct one-sided advocacy, not find the truth.
All the while, Strobel nods approvingly to even the most plainly absurd of explanations. One example, which I will share below, was the inspiration for creating this thread. When reading TCFC last night, I came across this doozey and about fell out of my chair from laughing so hard. So, without further ado, I present my Case for the Credulity of Lee Strobel.
In his chapter dealing with the work of the infamous Jesus Seminar, which Strobel labels the "rebuttal evidence," the author interviews "Ivy League-educated theology professor" and pastor of the Woodland Hills Church, Gregory Boyd. See Strobel at p. 112. While the entire interview is full of logical fallacies, my favorite occurred during Strobel and Boyd's discussion of the non-canonical Cross Gospel. When queried as to the credibility of the Cross Gospel, Boyd responded:
"No, most scholars don't give it credibility, because it includes such outlandishly legendary material. For instance, Jesus comes out of his tomb and he's huge - he goes up beyond the sky - and the cross comes out of the tomb and actually talks! Obviously, the much more sober gospels are more reliable than anything found in this account."
Strobel at p. 123.
Strobel never questions this assessment. He moves on to another gospel, presumably satisfied with a theory that distinguishes the genuine accounts of Jesus Christ from the frauds on the basis of the "outlandishly legendary" nature of the material. Strobel is comfortable with the idea that a giant Jesus and a talking cross are too obviously mythical to be believed. However, he completely ignores the necessary consequence of such a test: the canonical gospels, along with pretty much the entire Old Testament, Acts and most of the New Testament epistles, must fail this same test of legitimacy. Talking crosses are too outlandish to be believed? You'll get no argument from me, but don't try to sell me on the idea of having a conversation with inflamed shrubbery. A giant Jesus is absurd? Fair enough. But, so also is a giant Philistine, or a Jesus who walks on water, or a Jesus who flies into Heaven.
Boyd's major basis for distinguishing between one set of gospels and all of the rest is simply laughable, and yet Yale Law School partial-graduate Lee Strobel (did I mention that he has years of experience as a legal reporter and is Ivy League-educated?) failed to pick up on such an obvious flaw.
While the scene above is clearly one example of an error of logic in TCFC, it is important to note that it is representative of an epidemic of fallacy in Strobel's work. Throughout the book, Strobel employs specious reasoning and demonstrates an inability to recognized or challenge obvious flaws in the rationale of his supposed experts. Strobel introduces each of his chosen experts with an embarrassing appeal to authority; their education, publications, and even their stereotypically intelligent appearance are described in excrutiating detail as if such superficial nonsense will lend credence to the snippets of opinion that follow. Each interview is a series of softball questions followed by hollow answers lacking detail followed by either a softball follow-up or a gullible affirmation by the author. The expert "testimony" is generally lacking in substance and very, very few citations are made. We are supposed to believe the expert's typically summary conclusions for no other reason besides their impressive resumes and nerdy personas.
I will continue to read the book, if only because it is an incredibly easy read and a fertile source of ammunition with which to critique fundamentalist "logic."
