@Qingu I was going to say, for an atheist, you seem awfully well informed. But, you don’t seem all that out of place as a religious studies major or, even, as a seminary student in one of the more liberal Christian denominations, nowadays. I forget who mentioned this to me, but a great many young theology students take their professors aside and sheepishly ask, “Do you really believe in God?” What they mean, of course, is that nobody in their right mind can really be expected to take all this supernatural physics-defying rigmarole at face value. And, as you are well aware, all these violence-saturated bits, seem positively counter to the whole program.
So, what to do? Chuck 2,000 years of evolving humanist sensibility in a dismissive pique of so-called “intellectual honesty” or attempt a new synthesis for a new historical time? I have written elsewhere (and I actually expect you to click on this and read it) there are at least 8 distinct historical incarnations of Christianity, only one of which places scripture at the center of belief.
The preoccupation with “salvation” in the sense fevered sense we encounter it today among American evangelicals and pentacostals is a relatively recent phenomenon, beginning in earnest around 1830 as a reactionary protest against abolition, and the waves of anti-abortion legislation as a reactionary protest against women’s suffrage and modern feminism. As you correctly note (and as you will see again if you read the link) both sides of the civil war felt fully justified by scripture, which is starkly contradictory on the subject of slavery.
Is it intellectually dishonest to “cherry pick” out the anti-slavery parts and defend them against those who have picked out and defend the pro-slavery parts? No, the parts you pick out to defend depend on your reading of Christianity. Do you see it as a project for the liberation and fulfillment of humanity—an as yet unfulfilled promise? Or do you see it as an oppressive dehumanizing ideology that legitimates inequality and the subjugation of reason? In this respect, what Christianity is isn’t an intellectual question; it isn’t about which vision of Christianity is “really” Christianity, it is about which vision of Christianity you wish to foster and support.
Either way you choose, you will find scholarship in support of your choice. I choose to stand with Cahill even though I am not a believer because I find his scholarship, which is based on textual analysis and historical reconstruction, superior to the biblical exegetics and presuppositional apologetics of his Protestant critics. But I would still be with him in any case, because I don’t see the Bible as the ultimate authority on Christianity.
Cahill, in The Desire of the Everlasting Hills takes up the topic of St. Paul’s treatment of slavery, showing how it created severe problems for the egalitarian Christians of his day. He couldn’t come out and simply repudiate slavery because that would have been the kiss of death, because the Roman Empire would have quite rightly regarded such a religion seditious and would have wiped it out. (In fact, it was this very accusation that sparked the Christian persecutions under Nero, probably with some justification.)
What we see instead is that Paul winks at slavery. He urges the Corinthians not to keep slaves for sexual purposes because it sows dissension and enmity in the community; elsewhere he urges masters not to act on their prerogative to put runaway slaves to death; elsewhere he urges that those who join Christian communes as slaves remain nominally slaves, but they are to be treated with full human respect. Shall we look back from the safe vantage point of our 20/20 hindsight, from the comfort of our post-slavery world and snub St. Paul for being “dishonest” in his attempts to finesse this issue? To do so is to engage in historicism, and would be mean-spirited.
But, who is St. Paul anyway? He never met Jesus. What makes his pronouncements the definitive Christian authority on this matter? Only Protestants who believe that the Bible is the supreme authority on Christianity, believe that. And the only reason they believe that is because they have broken with the tradition of apostolic succession of the Catholic Church, which they see as corrupt. In order to see St. Paul as more a more authentic voice of Christianity, they raise St. Paul and make him the mouthpiece for the God of Creation; something is radically different from reading Paul as Paul, or Jesus as Jesus—or rather, as Jesus filtered through Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.
Nowhere does Jesus speak to us directly in the Gospels. And it isn’t until you get to John, around 200 years later, that you get the notion that Jesus is speaking to us as anything but a man. So, there is quite a bit of latitude in reading scripture simply in whether you choose to read it as the voice of the God of Creation speaking to you through a bullhorn, or as a literary work with a human voice, created by fallible and imperfect men.
Of course you are correct, I take the whole resurrection thing with a grain of salt. But, as Cahill points out, the circumstances of the whole affair are open to question. For one thing, all the apostles are hung over after drowning their sorrows. Their eyes are all suspiciously sensitive to light (ergot poisoning?), they aren’t able to get a good look at him and don’t recognize him as Jesus at first, and seem to have to be talked into recognizing the apparition as Jesus. Could Jesus have survived the crucifiction? Who knows. Normally, it takes a day or two for the person succumb as their limbs give out and they die of asphyxiation. Could he have been drugged and survived the lance?
It doesn’t really matter to me because I don’t see Jesus’ death as an act of atonement for “original sin” and I don’t see his death as instrumental in my salvation because I never saw myself as “lost” and needing to be “saved.” Rather, I see Jesus’ sacrifice as an act of human altruism, a moral exemplar to those of us who would speak truth to power no matter what the cost. To me, humanity doesn’t need to be “saved” so much as healed, and that is done by having the courage to put yourself on the line for your fellow man. And by that, I don’t mean leaping in the first bayonet thrust your way; I mean doing the best you can with what you have.
I’m sure you can read St. Paul cynically as an opportunistic demagogue, instead of reading him in a more charitable light as a distant ancestor to the modern Enlightenment. The two readings need not be mutually exclusive. Historical figures and movements turn out to be complex when you examine them closely. As for St. Paul’s one remark about circumcision “proving” he “wasn’t empathetic” is simplistic; rather like saying someone who has once told a lie is a liar for all time.
The book about St. Patrick is not about the abolition movement. It is about how the Irish saved civilization. St. Patrick, who was a young roman nobleman, was sold into slavery in Ireland at the age of 16, where he “went native.” When he persuaded the Irish to convert to Christianity many years later, one of the things he asked them to give up was slavery, which they did. It was the first time in the history of the world where slavery was abolished (around 490 AD), but its not, by any stretch, the main part of the brawling, squalling story of the Irish and their unlikely contribution to civilization.
Please take a look at the Karen Armstrong link above, because it too addresses many of the issues we are talking about.