In his
Easter sermon, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr
Rowan Williams, complains of the regular flurry of conspiracy
theories and sensational new discoveries which supposedly
threaten the church's very foundations. This year's
examples are the Gospel of Judas and the renewed excitement
over the Da Vinci Code after the recent copyright trial
and in anticipation of the forthcoming film of the book.
The archbishop goes on to complain that people are disinclined
to accept the traditional Christian story because it
comes from the church, an establishment body of authority
and power, in an age when the establishment is often
viewed with suspicion.
Dr Williams is right to be dismayed by both phenomena.
Our populist, instant excitement-seeking, culture and
media have written off with monotonous regularity Christianity,
western culture, Capitalism, the monarchy and numerous
other things which are still with us. Perfectly good
official advice goes unheeded because a sensationalist
scare story carries more weight. As a result we get
problems such as a rise in the incidence of measles
because too many parents have refused to allow their
children to receive the MMR vaccine, on the basis of
media misrepresentations of a single uncorroborated
and later partially-retracted piece of scientific research.
As Dr Williams says, people don't trust power, and the
church is traditionally part of this country's power
structure. The lack of trust is not entirely without
foundation, though - power tends to corrupt. But even
if that were not the case, we must be careful not to
go to the other extreme, and suggest that establishment
bodies are right simply because the majority of objections
to them stem from an irrational suspicion of power.
Any claims, whether from sensationalist book-writers,
politicians, experts or archbishops, should stand or
fall on their intrinsic merits.
Fortunately, perhaps, the archbishop does move on from
his complaints to discuss the merits of the conventional
Christian message. He says we have to strip away the
"accumulated lumber of 2,000 years of rather uneven
Christian witness and try to let the event [the resurrection]
be present in its first, disturbing, intimacy", and
goes on to explain that the Church does not exist in
order to arbitrarily lay down what people believe or
to remember a dead leader. According to Dr Williams,
the Bible is not the "authorized code of a society managed
by priests and preachers for their private purposes."
Rather, the church exists "so that people in this and
every century may encounter Jesus of Nazareth as a living
contemporary" whom we are invited to meet. The Bible
is a set of human words ... "with divine energy behind
them".
He then declares that the sceptic will say "but why
on Earth should I believe that?" Yes, we sceptics will
as ask that - why should we believe it? Why should we
believe that a man for whom there is no first-hand evidence
from his own lifetime not only lived (which is a possibility)
but lives still in some form which can be encountered
by people today (which is stretching sceptical credulity
to breaking point)? Dr Williams advances two arguments.
First, "it was written by people who, by writing what
they did and believing what they did, were making themselves,
in the world's terms, less powerful, not more".
Leaving aside the question of whether this is true (was
Paul the leader of a growing religious community throughout
the Mediterranean less powerful than Saul the Palestinian
tentmaker?), what exactly is Dr Williams suggesting
here? That no person or group would, or could, put themselves
in a position where they lose power unless the reason
for doing so was the gospel truth? Is he suggesting
that people never put themselves into minority positions,
or risk persecution, for beliefs which they may sincerely
believe, but which turn out to be untrue? Are the followers
of what is now orthodox Christianity the only people
to have knowingly made themselves less powerful because
of their beliefs?
The answers to these questions seem
very obvious to me. Many, many peoples have lost power
and accepted suffering for their beliefs, principles
and long-term aspirations; and many of those beliefs
directly contradict the standard Christian "truth".
For thousands of years, Jews could have ended their
suffering and marginalisation by turning away from their
Jewish beliefs and culture, but they held on to their
faith, even in the face of the Holocaust. Is that a
reason to believe the tenets of Judaism, including their
insistence that Jesus was not the Messiah? Within Christianity,
numerous "heretical" groups have sprung up knowing that
they risked life, limb and power for their beliefs,
many of which are at odds with the faith that Dr Williams
espouses. Perhaps even the author of the Gospel of Judas
was taking such a risk! Since history is littered with
the remains of powerless and persecuted minority groups
and religious communities, each sincerely convinced
of the truth of their belief, and since those beliefs
are mutually exclusive, it is a simple matter of logic
to conclude that such power-loss, such suffering, proves
nothing at all about the veracity of the beliefs themselves.
It proves only their power to take hold of people's
minds and emotions.
Dr William's second argument is that "the New Testament
was written by people who were still trying to find
a language that would catch up with a reality bigger
than they expected". This is a circular argument. The
sceptic is asking "why should we believe that what these
people believed to be the truth was actually the truth?,
and the archbishop's answer is to cite the very beliefs,
or "reality", in question. In what way does a struggle
to express an idea prove the veracity of the idea itself?
It doesn't.
Nothing in the remainder of Dr William's message
provides any more arguments in answer to the question
of "why should we believe it?". He states more of the
beliefs themselves as if they are proven fact, and cites
the moving stories of people who's actions have been
based on their acceptance of those beliefs.
Both of the archbishop's arguments may present evidence
of the depth and sincerity of the beliefs which existed
in the minds of early (and modern) Christians, but they
don't begin to address the question of whether or not
the beliefs themselves are true. They don't begin to
explain why we should believe the mainstream church's
Christianity, as opposed to the beliefs of others who
have suffered and struggled in similar ways, or, indeed,
why we should believe any such faith-based belief
system. If he is serious about answering the sceptics'
question, then he needs to address the concerns of sceptics
themselves : the need for evidence of the events
on which his faith is based, not merely evidence of
others' belief in those events. I assume that he is
knowledgable enough to know that his answers are not
answers at all (to a sceptic), so why bother?