It may be more accurate to say that they saw their myths as pre-history. They certainly believed the persons in these myths did exist and the events recorded did occur but this doesn't prove their conception of history was significantly different to our own.

I suspect something similar applies to Gen 1-11. It's likely that the ancient Hebrews saw the events and people as real, but the stylised nature of the accounts suggests we're dealing with "mythologised" history, where actual events involving historical people were related using the tropes and motifs of the ANE with which they were familiar, but which are alien to us...

That's also a good way to put it. Americans are again a poor example, because we have no pre-history to speak of. Our conception of the Wild West is probably the closest thing we have to a mythical past--we do pretty generally believe our own cowboy stories. I know that Davy Crockett was a real historical figure, and I'm pretty sure he did not in fact "kilt a bar when he was only three," but I accept the unverified claim that he was indeed "king of the wild frontier." The shootout at the OK corral really happened, but I'm sure is mythologized in ways I couldn't even tell you. Wyatt Earp, Billy the Kid, etc., are the sort of tropes that Americans believe.

(Which is unfortunate, in some ways. We believe that the West was uncivilized, when in fact Abilene, Ellsworth, Wichita, Dodge City, and Caldwell, for the years from 1870 to 1885, had only 45 homicides--a rate of approximately 1 murder per 100,000 residents per year, and much lower than the homicide rate of any major US city today except Lincoln, Nebraska, and El Paso, Texas, both of which had 0.8 homicides per 100,000 in 2010. The belief that "gun-slinging" was accompanied by high murder rates, shootouts at high noon, and all the rest, has a significant impact on public policy today. Politicians surprisingly often say, "This isn't the Wild West anymore!" with no conception that the Wild West wasn't wild in the first place--they're appealing to American myths, perpetuated by movies.)

In any case, I don't think any of the three of us disagree materially here. History and myth are not mutually exclusive. Perhaps Romulus and Remus even existed, for that matter. So none of this discussion should be taken as dismissing anything in scripture as pure fiction. Instead, the much more modest heresy is being considered, that elements of exaggeration, or tropes that were the ancient equivalent of "gun-slinging cowboys," might have been employed in relating some of these stories, and that interpreting them as strictly journalistic accounts would have similar results to watching a John Wayne movie as if it were a documentary.

I think the missing ingredient is that the ANE reader would have a function-oriented cosmology that played a similar role for him as our scientific cosmologies do us. In other words, they thought it was factual just as we do ours.

There's a danger in creating a false dichotomy between "functional" and "factual" cosmologies. Among other things, that leads to the erroneous notion that they were self-aware about the fact that their model was ahistorical. They weren't; that's what made it a "cosmology" as opposed to a "mythos." I think the key is the fact that they had no means of verifying their hypotheses anyway, so verification simply wasn't important. A sufficient test of a good theory was that it was consistent and useful. A recent miraculous creation was perfectly self-consistent, so no problems on that score. And a functional creation was quite useful to a pastoral civilization: it laid the groundwork for a discussion of seasons, the planting cycle, weeding, husbandry, etc. It was the shortest possible path from A to B, where A is "where did everything come from?" and B is "how do we go about surviving in this world?"

To them a bad cosmology would be bad because it was not self-consistent, or because it was inconsistent with the realities of their lives. One which taught them to plant in winter, for example, or condemned farming, or encouraged them to eat toxic plants, or undermined civic virtues like cooperation at harvest time.

Palis are holding their breath, waiting to find out if these laws are still on the books.

Via Diglotting:

While I claim ignorance regarding what happens when we die, I must say that I definitely don’t ascribe to the idea of hell. Even though I did believe in it during my teenage years, I now find the idea of eternal conscious retributive punishment to be an abhorrent thing to believe in. I do believe in some sort of existence after death, but I am somewhat skeptical of the idea of an incorporeal soul part of us that survives death and flies through a tunnel of light to heaven. I find the idea of a future resurrection of the body to be a much more holistic and meaningful concept in this modern scientific age regarding the question of life-after-death.

I do. I ascribe several things to the idea of hell. Barbarity, injustice, sadism, sociopathy, and unspeakable horror, to name a few. I do not, however, subscribe to the idea of hell.









Sorry, couldn't resist. My hobby is spotting when smart people use the wrong fancy word. My Dad got me started, with his awful habit of saying "prodigious" when he meant "propitious."

It's my general feeling that we Christadelphians avoid talking about that particular passage. I'm not sure exactly what would happen if brethren argued a similar position about it within the ecclesia.

A much milder passage is John 5:4. It reads differently than the rest of the Bible generally. Do angels really amuse themselves by splashing in a pool, healing the first sick person to struggle into the water, and presumably having a bit of a laugh at the poor disappointed losers who didn't make it? We Christadelphians believe that Lourdes is a fraud--it's one of our distinctives. In this case I've casually accepted the theory that verse 4 is a scribal gloss that leaked from the margin into the text, and not felt motivated to argue about it. I think most brethren read it without anything like the dissonance that Matthew's passage causes--and so without avoiding it, but without particularly questioning it either.

(On a hermeneutical note, I can point to other places where the writers of scripture report others' beliefs without comment. Did the scribe believe that the witch at Endor really did raise Samuel? I don't think it's clear-cut; the scribe reports the scene as Saul perceived it, without affirming or denying its veracity. It's a prime example why we should really hesitate to make an inferential case for a doctrine. That incident supplies plenty of ammunition to argue by inference that ghosts and mediums are real.)

What Fort said. Some evidence suggests that Goliath's kit was much more deluxe than the average Philistine's, and Samuel supports this: if he were dressed like any other Philistine, they wouldn't describe his armor in such detail. (A later writer would probably not have described the Greek kit in detail, BTW, since he would assume all Philistines dressed like that.)

But my remarks about the "Judean Lourdes" aren't about historical debates like that. My point is that those bits read like superstition in an otherwise not superstitious book. They don't fit. Even references like demons are not done superstitiously. No girls levitating over their beds and rotating their heads 360 degrees like the Exorcist. No description of horned beasties running away from the scene after being expelled. The parable of "seven other demons" hints at a popular superstition, but in a restrained way. And this idea of an angel offering periodic healings as a lark would, apart from that one verse, read like another popular superstition. It's plausible that a marginal note explaining the superstition crept into the text, where it suddenly reads like an endorsement and not just an explanation.

Most adults in our Christian churches are not Christian in a biblical sense. A majority of the people who attend Christian churches are not Christian and have been attending the same church for nearly a decade.

I'd like to know more about this. We would say that none of 'em are Christian, of course, but that's obviously not what the author meant by that statement. What defines a "biblical" Christian in their eyes, and why are most adults not ones?

Depending on the answer, I might end up agreeing that half of Christadelphians are not "Christian in the biblical sense," which would be a powerful takeaway.

See, I wondered whether he was complaining that too many parishioners are modalists and tritheists. He's not getting any sympathy from me on that front.

The biggest takeaway I see in this report is that even 2,000 years ago, people had an irresistible compulsion to throw coins in pools.

Before I relinquished it, my version of the "gap theory" was like the Stephen Wright joke: "One day I came home and realized that someone had stolen everything, and replaced it with an exact duplicate."

what forced me to drop even that, almost unfalsifiable theory, was Russell and his tree-rings. I was prepared to ignore completely the global flood implied by "the face of the waters," but the least I would expect is a discontinuity at about the time of the six-day recreation. Evidence of trees happily living before and after the creation week was more than I could accept.

The argument about verb tenses is a bit of a sideshow--too easily dismissed. So the earth "was" formless and void... at the time. It's easy enough to conclude that scripture is silent about how it might have been in prior ages.