Reza Aslan, Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth (New York: Random House, 2013)
Note: This review will be used by Christianity Today as well.
Reza Aslan’s Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth resurrects the theory that Jesus’ ministry and death are best explained against the background of Jewish zealot movements at the turn of the era. There is little here that is new. The ablest presentation of this line of interpretation was argued by S. G. F. Brandon in 1967. Few followed Brandon then; virtually no one does today. I doubt very much Aslan’s fresh take on it will win a following—at least not among scholars.
Aslan, who is writing for non-experts, describes Jewish zealotry (largely in terms of zeal for the temple and for Israel’s Law of Moses) and surveys some of Israel’s history between the Testaments. He reviews the attempts of a number of men who attempted in one way or another to throw off either the Herodian or Roman yoke and win freedom for Israel. He places Jesus of Nazareth and his following squarely into this history and social setting. Jesus’ proclamation of the coming kingdom of God was a call for regime change, for an end of Roman hegemony over Israel and an end of a corrupt and oppressive aristocratic priesthood.
The regime change that Jesus and his followers anticipated did not take place. Jesus was arrested and executed, along with two other rebels. Not long after—however it happened—Jesus’ followers became convinced that their master had been raised from the dead and that his mission had not been a failure after all. Unlike other zealot movements that ceased after the deaths of their respective founders, the Jesus movement not only continued, even in the face of severe opposition, it flourished, soon reaching large numbers of non-Jews.
This is where it gets interesting. With the conversion of Saul of Tarsus (who becomes the well known Paul the apostle of New Testament letters and the book of Acts), the Jesus movement began to be pulled in two directions. One camp remained loyal to the very Jewish roots of Jesus and his family, while the other increasingly came to view Jesus as a divine figure, a figure very attractive to non-Jews who otherwise had little interest in traditional Jewish thinking and living. It was the latter wing of the Jewish movement that eventually won out, thus creating a new religion, one destined to have the most followers around the world. Ironically, what it became was not what its founder proclaimed or intended. So Aslan contends.
There are numerous problems with Zealot, not least the fact that it heavily relies on an outdated and discredited thesis. But it also introduces a number of its own novel oddities and implausibilities. Aslan has canvassed much of the responsible scholarship in the field, but he does not always choose his options prudently. He often opts for extreme views and sometimes makes breathtaking assertions. I cannot help but wonder if Aslan’s penchant for creative writing is part of the explanation. Indeed, Zealot often reads more like a novel than a work of historical analysis.
Aslan assumes the latest dates for the Gospels and Acts, dating Mark after 70, Matthew and Luke-Acts in the 90s (perhaps later), and John somewhere between 100 and 120. After assigning such late dates he declares that there is no eyewitness tradition (without any engagement with Richard Bauckham’s important work on this subject). The circularity of this reasoning is hard to miss.
Zealot is riddled with errors, probable errors, and exaggerations. Aslan tells us a builder (Greek: tekton) in Nazareth had “little to do” (p. 34). Excavations at Nazareth and nearby Sepphoris suggest otherwise. Being a builder (or “carpenter”) mean that “Jesus would have belonged to the lowest class of peasants in first-century Palestine” (p. 34). Where does this come from? Sepphoris, a major city of Galilee, is said to be “a day’s walk” from Nazareth. Actually, it takes a jogger about 45 minutes. Scholars will be surprised to learn that Jesus ben Ananias (d. 70 CE), mentioned by Josephus, prophesied the “imminent return of the messiah” (p. 53). He did no such thing.
Aslan would have us believe that in an interval of one or two years (the time Jesus spent with John the Baptist) Galilee had become “urbanized, Hellenized, iniquitous” (p. 93). Previously it had been a place of family farms and open fields and blooming orchards. Excavations at Sepphoris indicate that even this large, somewhat Hellenized city had not adopted foods and customs contrary to Jewish law and traditions in the time of Jesus. In fact, excavations throughout Galilee have revealed how faithful to the Law of Moses the people were. When Jesus commands the cleansed leper to show himself to the village priest and do as Moses commanded, Aslan thinks “Jesus is joking” (p. 112). The discussion of magic and miracles (pp. 105–9) is confusing and inconsistent.
When transliterating the Greek for the nominative plural “apostles” Aslan gives us the genitive singular apostolou, instead of the expected apostoloi. Aslan assigns Eusebius to the third century, but the Christian apologist and historian flourished in the fourth century (p. 149). Aslan assumes throughout that Jesus and his disciples were illiterate (e.g., p. 171: “they could neither read nor write”; 178: “illiterate peasants from the backwoods of Galilee”). There is no engagement with scholarship that suggests otherwise. We are also told that James the brother of Jesus wore “simple garments made of linen, not wool” (p. 197). But linen was worn by the wealthy (see Luke 16:19), not the poor and simple.
The real problem of Zealot is seen in its exaggeration of the differences between Paul and the original apostles. There is no question that Paul sharply disagreed with Peter and other leaders over the question of the role of the Law of Moses in the lives of non-Jewish converts. But Aslan would have his readers believe that the debate centered on Christology, the divinity of Jesus, rather than on Ecclesiology, life in the Church. But the debate as described in the book of Acts and in Paul’s letters (see esp. Galatians) centers on food laws, sabbath observance, and circumcision, not on the divinity of Jesus (pp. 180–81). Aslan would have done well to consult David Wenham and others who show that claims to the effect that Paul invented Christianity are misguided.
Recent media coverage has drawn attention to Aslan’s Muslim heritage. As he himself explains, he was raised as a nominal Muslim, became a fundamentalist Christian as a teenager, then later abandoned his new faith after being exposed to biblical and historical criticism in his later education. Aslan earned a PhD in sociology and is now a professor of creative writing. I see nothing in his book that reflects distinctive Islamic beliefs about Jesus. The Quran, for example, explicitly asserts that Jesus was not executed but rather one like him (i.e., Simon of Cyrene, who assisted Jesus with the cross) died (see 4:157–58). Aslan contradicts this strange teaching (which apparently originated with the second-century heretic Basilides), rightly emphasizing the reality and brutality of Jesus’ death on a Roman cross.
At points Aslan’s book is informative; it is often entertaining. But it is also rife with questionable assertions. Let the reader beware.
Craig A. Evans
Acadia Divinity College
the archives near Emmaus 
Thank you for your review Dr. Evans!
The Herodian Yoke was very much the problem being the produce of Edomite Jewish influence on a Judean Israelite house. I’m not so sure it is true that “The regime change that Jesus and his followers anticipated did not take place.”
It is generally recognized (by more mainstream scholars at least) that the demise of the Roman Empire roughly corresponded with the emergence of Christianity.
So there is at least a basis for arguing that a regime change did happen, even if it did not happen instantaneously and accordingly to human expectation. God sees history as a stream, not a point in time, so there is at least room to make the argument the movement Christ heralded in resulted in a regime change in a historical sense .. Rome waned as Christianity waxed.
In academia, it apparently doesn’t matter that a thesis (such as the one Aslan presents) has long been outdated or is discredited.
Repeat something long enough and frequently enough, and eventually it will take hold. This is an excellent and balanced review Craig has given us ..
This is a wonderfully informed review. Now that actual scholars are getting the chance to read and evaluate this text, it should be telling that they are almost all noting how poorly it handles its topic.
Why wouldn’t the publisher have farmed this to scholarly review before it was pushed out there? Aslan is being completely discredited now.
Thanks for posting this and taking the time to read this text.
“In academia, it apparently doesn’t matter that a thesis … has long been outdated or is discredited.” Generally, in academia, it matters a great deal, but that is not really the milieu of this book. Although Aslan is (technically) an academic, and has some background in this field, he is not really the professor of religious studies that he makes himself out to be, and this is a book for a popular readership. It is in popular readership that it apparently doesn’t matter that a thesis has long been outdated or is discredited: people like to read things that confirm, or even extend, their prejudices. Dan Brown, anyone?
@Bill:
That is a good point worth making. It is the academics who are challenging the content of Aslan’s thesis, not promoting it. Instead, the general public is promoting it, mostly in reaction to Aslan’s unfair treatment by a Fox News host. If it weren’t for academics like Evans these sort of books would be free of serious rebuttal. In academia your thesis does matter. It is the public square that runs to the newest, shiniest theory (to them).
I agree, excellent and balanced review.
@Bill – perhaps you’re correct, and you do make a good point that perhaps some standard is harder to enforce in the popular forum than in the academic forum. Still, I would point out that one is a subset of the other (the academic forum a subset of the popular forum), so can we really distinguish? Subsets typically carry the self-same property as the superset.
Academia may have rules about how consensus is applied but that doesn’t mean it is any more correct, any more of the time. For example, for the bulk of human existence ‘experts’ believed the liver and not the heart circulated the blood. The discovery of the role of the heart is a relatively modern discovery (just like the discovery of the location of the earth within the universe). Whose to say our understanding of the heart is now complete? Beneath this idea that the consensus of experts makes them harbingers of truth lies not a single fallacy but two:
1. Fallacy of False Authority (which is actually a particular manifestation of Hasty Generalization): – whereby because someone is an expert in some obtuse branch of knowledge such as mathematical string theory, they must be an expert in all of the related branches of that same stream of knowledge. (I think you allude to this with Aslan – because Aslan can read ancient Greek means his opinions about Christology are valid …)
2. Genetic Fallacy: A conclusion is correct because of the credentials of the person proposing the conclusion rather than its axiomatic integrity. In fact, a person’s credentials (or lack of them), education background, gender etc have nothing to do with whether or not their conclusions are valid. Only the validity of their premises and the soundness of their logic influence the integrity of the conclusion and even here, a person’s credentials have no influence over the truth value of premises or sound logic (‘even a donkey can speak truth’ [Num 22:30]).
With respect to fashion, be it academic or popular, fashion does not unmake a fallacy so it is wise to pay it little heed (even if one’s profession depends upon it).
I haven’t read much of Aslan’s book except several pages via Amazon. In that early section, I found it informative and on backgrounds with which I was generally familiar… things other scholars have dug into and written about. Related to your points, when scholars are writing about things fairly easily checked against other “authorities” and one can trace, in turn, their sources easily also, the “trust” value that may come from having true expertise in an area is not as crucial… largely because the author is not “plowing new ground.”
I don’t know if or how much Aslan does plow new ground, but from a couple reviews, probably not much. Thus, his credentials in related areas may be adequate, as long as he’s not “padding” or distorting them. An example that comes to mind in which a scholar claims to have “plowed new ground” and one has to do more trusting, based on his credentials and on his other work, is Ehrman in “Forged” (reviewed on my site). In it he seems to have done what others should have long ago, but according to him at least, they have not. Namely, dug more deeply into ancient forgeries (after delineating between them, pseudepigrapha, etc., which he does) and how they were actually responded to and treated in the first couple centuries CE.
Consensus does not need to be confused for speaking ex cathedra, but it does tell us that (1) the evidence for a certain theory is strong enough that it is accepted by a lot of people who are dedicated to researching the topic and (2) if you are going to challenge it you must be aware that it will demand a lot of work and very solid argumentation. I don’t understand why the scholarly guild is presented as staunchly defending old ideas. It is the opposite, in fact, since scholars are supposed to be continually presenting new material, opening new venues of investigation. Again, I think the discussion surrounding Aslan’s book is a great example of how scholarly work can benefit the public. If it were not for those like Evans who have dedicated years and years to becoming familiar with the primary sources there would be no one to challenge someone like Aslan when he does sloppy work.
Brian, I agree that consensus only ever reveals how few or how many people believe something to be so. However, since the number of people who believe something to be so (whether a single person or everyone) has absolutely no bearing on whether it is so, or not, consensus is a non-issue, a mere indicator of fashion.
Fashion is often mistaken for truth so paying any head to it is problematic. SOLUTION: pay no head to it ..
Regardless, where do you find the scholarly guild presented as staunchly defending old ideas? I agree with you that within this guild are many new ideas. However, fallacies stand eternal, and so although this guild presents many new ideas, it also continues to employ many of the same old fallacies to justify these new ideas. The capacity to err in human thinking has not abated over time, and is not any less (or any more) with the so-called experts, as with the layman.
What makes Evan’s argument more worthy than say Aslan’s argument is not the years he’s spent studying, or anything like that. What makes his opinion matter is that he derives conclusions from true premises using sound reason. The controversy here is entirely within the realm of reason, and has nothing to do with attributes, experience or personality of those making the arguments.
It is a common mistake to confuse admiration for a man, with admiration for his ideas. In the case of Evans there may be cause for both, but they are still separate.
My 9:02 a.m. comment was in reply to Andrew’s 8:26 a.m. (8-8) specifically… at least in my browser it’s not tiered as such…. But it’s a general principle anyway.
Specifically in response to yours, Brian, of 9:44 a.m., I like this contribution. How scholarship works is a complicated thing… often not nearly as “objective” or oriented to getting to facts or truth as we’d like to see. Still, that function of academia (and of amateurs and students not formally in the “guild”) IS functioning, though sometimes slowly and haltingly… for normal psychological reasons which scholars are not “beyond” somehow, as I think sometimes people assume. Combine that with institutional pressures, etc. and you have the situation in which consensus CAN be very misguided and/or flat wrong, sometimes on crucial points, as history has shown repeatedly.
It’s helpful if one knows about some of the dynamics involved and can factor those in, whether in relation to biblical scholarship, historical, scientific, etc. In that vein, I believe there is still value in reading a now-older classic which was once widely read, but much less so by younger scholars and lay people these days, it seems: “The Structure of Scientific Revolutions” by Thomas Kuhn. (And reading his critics, his responses, etc., is of further benefit.) I recommend the 2nd ed. (or later.. I forget how many times he added or revised). I think that is a 1969 copyright, and in it his epilogue covers some of the initial criticism and includes some remarks on application of his theory to religion… not a lot of depth there, but interesting. I find there is a lot of applicability myself.
I suppose one “take away” relevant to the present discussion is that there is usually a lot of resistance to an “overthrow” of the consensus on any major (or guiding) paradigm, even when dissenting scholars have given strong evidence… and for both intellectually “valid” and “invalid” reasons (such as “I don’t want to be shown to have been wrong” or “have to re-work my whole system”).
@Andrew
Correct, something can be wrong while the entire world affirms it as true. Yet, there is something to be said for humility. Some of the most delusional people in the world are those who think they know something no one else knows. For every true reformer, every brilliant soul who goes where no one has gone, there are many more people convinced in their own mind that they are right, everyone else is wrong, and no one can tell them otherwise. All one has to do is browse the comments of biblioblogs all across the internet to find these sorts.
I pay attention to other people’s opinions because (1) I am fallible and prone to error; (2) I am limited in my knowledge (e.g., Aslan apparently doesn’t know a lot about early Judaism while Evans does, so it wouldn’t hurt to chat with people who know more about something than oneself); (3) I may be blinded by my own presuppositions, even unaware they exist, which can be exposed by interacting with others; (4) no one person can be right about everything, so there is nothing wrong with trusting others. I am sure there are more, but that is my rational. If I have a stomach ache it is possible that I may deduce the cause while a doctor is wrong, but there is a better chance that the doctor with years of schooling, study, and experience will be quicker to diagnose my problem while providing a healthier solution. If I want to know something about the Qumran Scrolls it is altogether possible that I might reach a conclusion that is correct about this or that while someone like Evans holds to false beliefs, but it would be arrogant of me, and unwise not to respect a person who has done years of research in this field. When discussing something like the Qumran Scrolls we need experts to do archaeological digs, so more things can be found, preserved, and protected. We need experts who can preserve ancient manuscripts. We need experts who know how to use technology to determine the letters on a worn manuscript. We need experts in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek to use their skills to translate. We need historians who know a breadth of literature to help us understand how certain words and concepts were used so that we don’t important our modern presuppositions onto ancient texts. This is but the beginning.
So yes, experts can be wrong, but the chance of error is hardly good reason to disrespect their opinion. Quite often it is not possible to reach true deductions without years of experience.
@Howard:
I don’t disagree that scholarly consensus might be wrong. Also, I’d be one of the first to acknowledge the politics of new proposals. That said, I’d rather be forced to prove my thesis, receiving skepticism and rebuff from people who are dedicated to researching their field, rather than run into a group where all opinions are equally valid. There is nothing wrong with be challenged. I’d be more skeptical of the academic guild if they accepted anything and everything. When there is resistance the emerging theory proves its merits giving it lasting value.
I am very glad Dr. Evans put his review out.
Reza Aslan asserts that Roman crucifixion was only reserved for crimes against the state. He also contends that the “thieves” who were crucified on either side of Jesus should be properly understood as “bandits”, which suggests a more political crime was committed instead of plain-ole’ “thievery”. Observations like this lends support to Aslan’s thesis. But does the evidence support Aslan’s claim?
@ Brian:
I agree. Resistance has both a positive and (unfortunately too often, in my view), a negative function. I think one reason for the latter is lack of understanding of human and one’s own personal psychology, such as self-serving bias and confirmation bias. I do think the scholarly processes within academia and broader (publishing in general, for ex.) moderates these some, but more recognition of at least these two dynamics would go a long ways… BTW, I note that you are the rather rare person who seems well tuned in to them, which I much appreciate about you.
Incidentally, for you, in case you may not be aware, and other readers both, there has lately been some good discussion of points about aspects of scholarship in a Christian framework on both Pete Enns’ blog at Patheos and the IVP one here: http://blog.emergingscholars.org/.
Brian, the example you provide (about biblioblogs) is exactly why we have to detach our gauge of an idea from our gauge of the person presenting the idea. Every brilliant soul who went where no one else did was first thought an idiot. Your response also suggests that just because someone is a doctor their opinion represents some monolithic body of thought, untainted by error. Have you not heard of a 2nd opinion? If doctors themselves recommend 2nd opinions, clearly simply being a doctor has no bearing on being correct … (not sure why you keep trying to defend the Genetic fallacy incidentally …)
The world’s trend is to ignore wisdom and embrace foolishness ([1 Cor 1:20]), which means we need to diligently seek the signal in the noise whoever the source. What if we had ignored that foolish carpenter who claimed some 2000 years ago to a society that held human sacrifice an anathema the only way to obtain redemption with God was for a man to die on a cross? Where would we be?
With respect to esteeming the opinions of others, people should learn to trust the Holy Spirit far more than they do. Combine this with a healthy prayer for the discernment to differentiate between man’s natural corrupt and arrogant inclination and the Holy Spirit and we might be on to something.
The problem here is that man listens only to himself or others who are in the same corrupt state – and convinces themselves that this is truth. They hardly listen to God at all if they even dare to try …..
@Andrew:
If all we should do is listen to the Holy Spirit, and if the opinions of others is more of a hinderance than an asset, then why do you spend so much time commenting on this blog? Are you here to correct us? To show us that you know what all of us do not know because you’ve listened to the Spirit while we have not? If not, then your frequent engagement with this blog—a blog that attempts to make scholarship accessible to the general public—is perplexing, since you are quite skeptical that you have anything to learn from others. Is there merely a forum for you to correct others?
In your response all I see is a mixture of being a contrarian while parroting what I said. I didn’t say that experts are infallible, but that they should be respected. I didn’t say one expert trumps all experts or all other people. Your counter example of getting a second opinion is the example of going to another expert, so I’m not quite sure why you used it. Also, I noted that some pioneering types do prove everyone wrong, which you repeated essentially. That doesn’t mean that many pioneering types aren’t delusional egomaniacs. Again, bounce around the biblioblogosphere. Read the comments. Observe all the proclamations made on a hunch or based on a little bit of knowledge. Read the comments on FoxNews.com or Huffington Post and it will be quite apparent that there are more egomaniacs with an opinion than brilliant, insightful pioneers.
@Howard:
I appreciate the compliment. Both Enns’ blog and the emerging scholars blog does provide readers with good reading. I concur!
@Clark: I know there have been some solid monographs published recently on crucifixion in the ancient world, but I’m not qualified to say much about who the Romans crucified and who they did not. Obviously, Roman citizens were crucified less than those without citizenship (e.g., most Judeans), and one would imagine that those who commit the more heinous crimes were more likely to be crucified than others, but Rome appears willing to assert their power to make an example of someone for the mere sake of asserting their power. Even if Jesus’ message was misunderstood, the Romans may have seen anything about a “Kingdom of God” as a threat, even if Jesus’ actions suggest that his understanding of how God’s Kingdom would come was not like that of those who participated in armed revolution.
@ Clark:
There IS indeed something curious about the “bandit” term. I happened to read that section via sample pages on Amazon. Perhaps later Aslan develops it more, but he’s far from first to point this out. To my knowledge (less in depth than Evans’ by far), Evans is right that S.G.F. Brandon was perhaps the first, certainly the most focused proponent of the concept of Jesus being crucified for sedition or suspicion, at least, of fomenting an insurrection. (Brandon WAS a specialized and careful scholar, whatever one thinks of the conclusions he came to re. this or related things… more so than Aslan in NT scholarship, by far.)
What I don’t know is if or how Aslan cites a relevant statement in Mark. It is one which I’d read past without thinking, and never heard discussed in either “direction” all through thousands of sermons, hundreds of books and a seminary education. That is Mark 15:7, in which the “bandit” is said to have “committed murder IN THE INSURRECTION” (KJV). Not “an” insurrection, but “the” insurrection (“uprising” in NIV and “insurrection” again in NRSV). Curious in that such “insurrection” is never otherwise identified or described…. unless Mark means to connect back a few days to the “cleansing of the Temple” incident. In 11:15-19, he seems to describe it as a quite sizable undertaking, indicating that Jesus and/or his followers had control over at least some large portion of the expansive “temple courts”; and that for at least a good part of a day…. Yet, strangely, Jesus and his disciples merely leave Jeru. that evening and return the next day, walking about the courts again, interacting with the “chief priests,” etc., almost as though nothing major had happened the prior day… at least as far as temple police and the Roman garrison on guard were concerned (all very suspicious, as to plausibility of the narrative)…
Then Mark shows the dialog going theological (religious authority) and covering various points for a few chapters until the question of “insurrection” or “rebellion” (under a form of the same Greek root) is introduced, with negative implication, by Jesus, in 14:48. (Here KJV uses “thief” and NIV is much looser with “Am I leading a rebellion?”) In other words, Jesus is denying he is an insurrectionist. But, again, what IS “the insurrection” of 15:7 that Barabbas is said to have been a murderer within? Neither here in Mark, nor elsewhere in the Gospels, nor anywhere, including Josephus as far as I’m aware, is there talk of an insurrection around this time, unless Mark intends it to be implied in his story.
I realize all the insurrections were probably not recorded, but if Barabbas (and/or Jesus) was involved in one with at least one death (he “committed murder”), it must have been very recent. From my understanding anyway, the Roman practice was swift “justice”, on public display, to serve as a powerful deterrent to any others with similar ideas and motivation. I don’t see why they’d be holding an insurrectionist/murderer for very long, though perhaps a few days till the influx of Jews from the Diaspora gathered for Passover, for broader “publicity”…. Still, why is this insurrection missing in the Gospel accounts? One which Mark refers to as “the” insurrection without seemingly identifying it? On Mark’s part, is it just poor writing or story construction? (I kind of doubt that.)
At any rate, I do think there is textual as well as broader contextual justification for the claim that at least Barabbas, and almost as certainly the other “thief” also, WAS an insurrectionist. Further, this does make it a bit more of a stretch to think that Jesus was only grudgingly crucified by Pilate’s command because the Jewish crowd forced his hand. I think I can understand what Mark and the other Evangelists were doing, but that’s not to go into here!
This may be worth reading. I heard him present at SBL last year: http://tinyurl.com/m774ch3
P.S. to my remarks of 2:02 p.m.: The history of seeing Jesus as crucified basically for insurrection (or suspected of it) and not theological views primarily (as objected to by the “chief priests” or “the Jews”) would be interesting to review. (Does anyone know a summary of it?) In mentally reviewing my own reading, I’m unable to recall what Schweitzer (1906) said about this, but I think I do rightly recall that at least by 1951 (writing, not publication of), “The Kingdom of God…”, he made it clear he considered the issue “sedition” and/or “insurrection”… not sure the German term he employed and how it was translated, generally “sedition” I think. I SHOULD know the details of his case better, in that I reviewed the book not 6 mos. ago. Oh, for a more detailed memory!
(I know Schweitzer is largely forgotten or considered passe’ these days, but the man was particularly brilliant and seemingly more-than-usually objective and open… even to changing views.) But knowing about other early “questors” would be good… Schw. may have included this in his 1906 historical review book… again, I can’t recall many specifics. FWIW, Brandon’s career I think was at peak in the 50s and 60s, with the ’67 book mentioned above one of his last, if not last.
Brian, this discussion is not about you, or me .. it’s about man’s innate (and universal) ability to mistake the wisdom of man for the wisdom of God. I’ve already agreed with you that a survey of blogs and news comment pages is evidence of the supreme arrogance of man-thinking. But commentators and news reporters (or even bloggers themselves) are all in the same boat. We (meaning all humanity) are all absolutely convinced of our own self-worth, and our own correctness. The bible says it this way [Pro 21:2] “Every way of man is right in his own eyes“. So if we agree on this point (and if I am parroting what you said), you can hardly accuse me of being a contrarian.
The point was that simply being an expert has no bearing whether or not one is correct. This is a well known fallacy, and basically it means that to gauge the worth of an idea, you must look at the logic of the idea itself; it has nothing to do with the person behind the idea. I cannot see how this claim is offensive.
With respect to the doctor example, yes, both doctors are experts, but whether or not both doctors are experts the point is that there is no agreement even amongst experts. It was an example that simply being an expert has no bearing on correctness.
Also, you raise the issue as to why I comment on blogs. I’m not sure why you’re focusing on me specifically. I’m not the only one who comments on blogs, or even your blog. But since you asked, blogs are the domain of man’s opinion, and man’s ego. They are intended to attract, engage, discuss and share ideas. Blogging is inherently personal and arrogant. What could be more arrogant than thinking an idea is important enough to broadcast to the world?
If an opinion is broadcast to the world and invites comment, it is going to be met with no less opinion. Am I engaged in an act of arrogance by commenting on your posts? Of course, but no less so than you for offering an idea up in the first place for discussion. Arrogance invites arrogance.
That said you didn’t invent blogging, and nor did I. We both just participate in it in some form. Since it is the realm of human thought and opinion, I accept the requisite arrogance associated with carrying out an exchange of ideas in a public forum. It’s part-and-parcel of the exchange. However, that doesn’t mean we adopt an air of arrogance to do so (if that’s what you hinting at).
Back to the point – We all have many faults (you allude to some of mine). You don’t know me, nor I you, but like you, I am infallible. I hope you don’t gauge what I say based upon my personal defects (for that would be a fallacious judgement). Rather I hope you gauge what I say based upon the logic it is built up from.
It is possible for an imperfect messenger to deliver a message perfectly. Just look at the bible.
@Andrew
No one is denying the fallibility of human thinking. No one is denying that an expert might be wrong. It is a logical fallacy to assume that someone is automatically correct because of their position or place. This is not the same thing as giving someone the benefit of the doubt that their hard work has yielded knowledge to them from which we might benefit. Also, the fallibility of experts is not an excuse for disrespecting those who have given more attention to a topic than others. Even if they are wrong about this or that there remains much we can learn from them. If all humans are fallible (we agree) then our warning is a double edged sword: don’t ignore the reality of an expert’s fallibility; don’t ignore the reality of one’s own fallibility. Since we are all fallible there is nothing wrong with humbling listening to those who are more learned in an area than oneself.
@Andrew
There is an important difference between us. My blog is a place where I post ideas in order to engage others. You comment in order to show where you are right and others are wrong. Examine my blog posts: most share data then present a question for discussion. Do you ever take the time to consider what other commenters say other than to contradict them, prove them wrong, and show how much you know compared to everyone else on this blog, both the contributors and commenters? I think if you’re honest you’ll realize that I am pointing at you because unlike others who interact with this blog you show no interest in learning from others.
…a good example would be this comment thread. How many discussions have you derailed with essentially the same line that others shouldn’t be trusted, others don’t know what they are saying, everyone else is committing this or that “logical fallacy,” and doing all you can to insert your opinion on everything at every point possible? This screams for you to launch your own blog. Obviously, you have a lot to say and you are confident that you know as much as almost everyone else about an amazing array of subjects. No expert can corner any subject since you know something about everything. Someone with this much knowledge about that many topics should launch their own blog. It would be a disservice to the world for you not to share all you know. Why limit yourself to correcting people when you can begin educating people? I’m sure people would flock to your blog to learn from the person who knows everything about everything.
Matt, somehow I think you’ve missed my whole point – but yes I agree entirely. The point is – that we esteem an idea on its own merits, and a man or woman on their own merits and otherwise not confuse the two.
The fallibility of experts is absolutely no excuse for disrespecting the time and attention a person’s given to the study of a topic. That is true whether or not we agree with their views. That is an attribute of the person we should respect, rather than an attribute of the argument. The goal in pointing out this fallibility of humans was intended to direct our attention away from the person into the domain of the person’s ideas. It was not intended to disrespect anyone.
I also agree that dialogue is how we learn, but would frame it this way: The exposure to ideas themselves, the discovery of why one idea is true and another is false is what makes us learn. It takes people to have these dialogues, of course, but ultimately people are physical things not to be confused with ideas, which are metaphysical things. People convey ideas, they are the medium, but “the medium is not the message”, whatever Marshall McLuhan would have us believe).
Wow Brian – that last bit was angry and personal. However, I have never claimed I am correct and everyone else incorrect, contrary to your claim.
When I present a ideas, I cite the bible (as evidence my premises are true) or other sources, and I make my logic plain for all to critique. If these conclusions are correct, they are so because they are built upon sound syllogisms and valid premises. If you disagree, either show the logic to be faulty or the premise false.
As a person, I bring nothing to the mix. I am human, and possess human faults as you point out. I hope you can look past my defects however… and forgive them.
Was it a chord I set off by point outing that blogging was inherently arrogant? Don’t be offended by that – it was not directed at you. Nearly everything in the age of humanism is arrogance.
Let’s go ahead and move on. Once again, we have a comment thread that is not related to the subject. This is a waste of our time and unfair to others readers who may have wanted to discuss the book or book review.
Excellent review. I read Craig Evans’ article ‘Jewish Scripture and The Literacy of Jesus’, which is also excellent:
Click to access evans.pdf
That apostolou apostoloi cannot be a serious criticism, unless this happened more than once. I and U are immediately beside each other on a standard keyboard. The proof-reader may not have been very familiar with Greek, so all it would take would be the smallest typographical error. How often does this error occur?