The Author of the Gospel of Matthew Copied the Markan Passion Tale, Changing It In Ways to Fit a Newly Added Tale About "Many Saints Being Raised." The Changes Are Obvious and Telling Concerning the Author's Ingenuity Rather Than Demonstrating Historical Reporting

Raising of many saints story in Matthew in light of questions of Markan priority?

Which Gospel was written first, Mark or Matthew? Markan priority is far more widely accepted and has grown in acceptance even among members of the Evangelical Theological Society—see Three Views on the Origins of the Synoptic Gospels.

Case in point. The story of the “raising of many saints” (which is found only in the Gospel of Matthew) makes greater sense if Markan priority is true rather than Matthean priority.

Mark and Matthewʼs stories about Jesusʼ execution right up to the message delivered at the empty tomb are nearly identical. They both depict the same actions and messages of Jesus on the cross, and they both share the same message delivered at the empty tomb. None of the other Gospels share as much as Mark and Matthew do in the above sections. But for all that they share, Matthewʼs tale contains some spectacular bits that Mark lacks. Nor are those spectacular bits found in any other Gospel—they include the earthquake at Jesusʼ death and the raising of many saints who enter the holy city and show themselves to many, guards at Jesusʼ tomb, an earthquake at Jesusʼ tomb, an angel that descends from heaven and sits on top of the rock outside the tomb, and Jewish bribery of the guards. Mark contains none of that, no first earthquake that opens many tombs, no resurrected saints, no guards at Jesusʼ tomb, no second earthquake, no angel descending from heaven and sitting on top of the rock outside the tomb, no Jewish bribery of the guards. (Mark simply says Jesusʼ tomb was empty and a young man was found inside it.) Nor do the other Gospels mention those spectacular bits in Matthew that Mark lacks. In fact all the Gospels lack mention of a single earthquake, let alone two of them. On the other hand, as I already stated, Jesusʼ last words and actions, and the message delivered at the empty tomb (“He has gone before you to Galilee, there you will see him”) are nearly identical in both Mark and Matthew. So it appears Matthew added a lot to a prior Markan story, many of the added bits being of a spectacular nature and corroborated neither by Mark nor by other Gospel writers.

One also canʼt help but notice that following Matthewʼs story of the earthquake that cracks open tombs followed by the raising of many saints, Matthew says:

When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, Surely he was the Son of God! (NIV)

But Mark says:

And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard his cry and saw how he died, he said, Surely this man was the Son of God! (NIV)

So Matthew depicts the centurion along with those with him all “seeing” the “earthquake and all that had happened,” and “they were terrified.” But Mark depicts only the centurion standing “there in front of Jesus,” reacting to “his cry” and seeing “how he died.”

So it looks like Matthew inserted a lot of spectacular bits into his version of the Markan story, even altering what the centurion was looking at when he exclaimed Jesus to be “the Son of God.” Indeed, Matthew seems to have the centurion “and those with him” exclaiming in unison, “Surely he was the Son of God.”

Such additions and edits in Matthew point toward Mark being a more likely primary source.

For further evidence of the priority of Mark one could compare the type and number of miracle tales found in both Mark and Matthew. See this fascinating discussion by a biblioblogger.

Christopher Hitchens: Quotations by Which to Remember Him, including his view of C. S. Lewis's Mere Christianity

Christopher Hitchens

Hitchenʼs book tour for God is Not Great took a few miraculous turns, including receiving a P.R. boost from Jerry Falwellʼs demise, and ended with a chance encounter with the Archbishop of Canterbury, and discovering to everyoneʼs surprise, support for Hitchenʼs attack on religion:

Itʼs been weeks on the road, and after a grueling swing through Canada I am finally home. I tell the wife and daughter thatʼs it: no more god talk for a bit—letʼs get lunch at the fashionable Café Milano, in Georgetown (Washington, D.C.). Signor Franco leads us to a nice table outside and I sit down–right next to the Archbishop of Canterbury. O.K., then, this must have been meant to happen. I lean over. “My Lord Archbishop? Itʼs Christopher Hitchens.” “Good gracious,” he responds, gesturing at his guest– “we were just discussing your book.” The archbishopʼs church is about to undergo a schism. More than 10 conservative congregations in Virginia have seceded, along with some African bishops, to protest the ordination of a gay bishop in New England. I ask him how itʼs going. “Well”–he lowers his voice–“Iʼm rather trying to keep my head down.”

Well, why, in that case, I want to reply, did you seek a job that supposedly involves moral leadership? But I let it go. What do I care what some Bronze Age text says about homosexuality? And thereʼs something hopelessly innocent about the archbishop: he looks much more like a sheep than a shepherd. What can one say in any case about a religion that describes its adherents as a flock?

According to a report in The Wall Street Journal, my book is selling particularly well in the Bible Belt, on a “know thine enemy” basis. And I get encouraging letters from atheists in foxholes in Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as from people who feel that they are at last emerging from some kind of closet. One day a decent candidate for high office will say that he is not a person of faith, and the sky will not fall.

Everywhere I speak, I find that the faithful go to church for a mixture of reasons, from social to charitable to ethnic, and take their beliefs à la carte or cafeteria-style, choosing the bits they like and discarding the rest. The Christianity Today Web site, which has hosted me in an online debate with its champion Douglas Wilson for the past two months, writes to say that Mr. Wilson wants to send me a wheel of Washington State cheese, as a token of appreciation. A nice surprise. Blessed are the cheese-makers.

God Bless Me Itʼs a Bestseller!

Hitchens argues that Genesis is the mundane work of ignorant humans:

Man is given “dominion” over all beasts, fowl and fish. But no dinosaurs or plesiosaurs or pterodactyls are specified, because the authors did not know of their existence, let alone of their supposedly special and immediate creation. Nor are any marsupials mentioned, because Australia–the next candidate after Mesoamerica for a new “Eden”–was not on any known map. Most important, in Genesis man is not awarded dominion over germs and bacteria because the existence of these necessary yet dangerous fellow creatures was not known or understood. And if it had been known or understood, it would at once have become apparent that these forms of life had “dominion” over us, and would continue to enjoy it uncontested until the priests had been elbowed aside and medical research at last given an opportunity.

God is Not Great

Religion of every kind involves the promise that the misery and futility of existence can be overcome or even transfigured. One might suppose that the possession of such a magnificent formula, combined with the tremendous assurance of a benevolent God, would make a person happy. But such appears not to be the case: unease and insecurity and rage seem to keep up with blissful certainty, and even to outpace it.

Christopher Hitchens— The Atlantic, April 2003

Hitchens on Mere Christianity

…On C. S. Lewisʼs classic nonfiction best seller, Mere Christianity; taken a look at it lately? Try this:

First, there is what is called the materialist view. People who take that view think that matter aned space just happen to exist, and always have existed, nobody knows why; and that the matter, behaving in certain fixed ways, has just happened, by a sort of fluke, to produce creatures like ourselves who are able to think. By one chance in a thousand something hit our sun and made it produce the planets; and by another thousandth chance the chemicals necessary for life, and the right temperature, occurred on one of these planets, and so some of the matter on this carth came alive; and then, by a very long series of chances, the living creatures developed into things like us.

On this evidence - which sounds like a semiliterate peasant stammering to repeat what heʼd heard of a very faint radio broadcast on Darwin or Albert Einsten – one would have to conclude that the process did not end up by producing creatures who were able to think, or at any rate, not always. What if, in reply, one were to be so vulgar as to offer a parody of Christian belief that was comparably low and uninstructed? It might read like this:

Christianity is a fighting religion. It thinks God made the world—that space and time, heat and cold, and all the colours and tastes, and all the animals and vegetables, are things that God ‘made up out of His head’ as a man makes up a story. But it also thinks that a great many things have gone wrong with the world that God made and that God insists, and insists very loudly, on putting them right again.

I would apologize for this pathetic caricature of faith-based life, if I had in fact written it. But it is Lewisʼ own best shot, and there is plenty more where that came from. He could knock out this stuff without even bothering to switch on what there was of his brain.

…Lewisʼ laughable and sinister book is a great joy and comfort to all those who have noticed the paper-thin morality and the correspondingly fanatical assertions of the religious. It should be a project of all skeptics and humanists and heretics to get it into the hands of as many readers as possible, most especially the young and impressionable. We, and not the “faithful” should be reprinting it and reaping the royalties.

Hitchens on the Closing Years of Thomas Paine (the man who helped inspired the American Revolution with his book, Commonsense, and who inspired colonial soldiers with the line, “These are the times that try menʼs souls,” and also a deist and author of a book that questioned the truth of the Bible, The Age of Reason that became a bigger bestseller, percentage-wise, than Hitchenʼs own book, God is Not Great)

Paineʼs closing years, pitiful as they were, contained one triumph. He might have become a scarecrow-like figure. He might have been forced to subsist on the charity of friends. He might have been denied the right to vote by a bullying official, when presenting himself at the polling station, on the grounds that the author of Common Sense was not a true American. But as the buzzards began to circle, he rallied one more time. It was widely believed by the devout of those days that unbelievers would scream for a priest when their own death-beds loomed. Why this was thought to be valuable propaganda it is impossible to say. Surely the sobbing of a human creature in extremis is testimony not worth having, as well as testimony extracted by the most contemptible means? Boswell had been to visit David Hume under these conditions, because he had been reluctant to believe that the stoicism of the old philosopher would hold up, and as a result we have one excellent account of the refusal of the intelligence to yield to such moral blackmail. Our other account comes from those who attended Paine. Dying in ulcerated agony, he was imposed upon by two Presbyterian ministers who pushed past his housekeeper and urged him to avoid damnation by accepting Jesus Christ. “Let me have none of your Popish stuff,” Paine responded. “Get away with you, good morning, good morning.” The same demand was made of him as his eyes were closing. “Do you wish to believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God?” He answered quite distinctly: “I have no wish to believe on that subject.” Thus he expired with his reason, and his rights, both still staunchly defended until the very last.

Thomas Paineʼs Rights of Man: A Biography

The Beliefs of Two Christians Compared: C. S. Lewis and Josh McDowell

C.S. Lewis

C. S. Lewis needs no introduction.

Josh McDowell is the author of Evidence That Demands a Verdict and other Evangelical Christian works of apologetics.

Of all the “converted skeptics” whom McDowell mentioned in the first ed. of Evidence That Demands a Verdict none has had as wide and enduring an influence as C. S. Lewis. His “Christian novels” and works of “Christian apologetics” are sold in both mainstream and Christian bookstores, and make McDowellʼs books and efforts pale in comparison. Many, including McDowell, have utilized Lewisʼ fame to their own advantage by citing him as a Christian authority in their own works.

However, Lewis never systematically examined each Biblical book and discussed what he believed about it and why. When he spoke on theological matters, he always qualified himself as an amateur: “I have no claim to speak as an expert in any of the studies involved, and merely put forward the reflections which have arisen in my own mind and have seemed to me (perhaps wrongly) to be helpful. They are all submitted to the correction of wiser heads.”[1]

Some interesting facts about C. S. Lewis that McDowell might not like his readers to know, include the following:

Josh McDowell
  1. Lewis admitted the Bible “may no doubt contain errors,” and, he doubted, denied, or avoided discussing, many biblical miracles (though he stood by most if not all of the miracles of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels).[2]

  2. Lewis denied the “inspiration” of Biblical authors whenever they attributed to “God” blatantly immoral actions and commands (such as linking “God” to the “treacheries of Joshua” or to “striking dead” a married Christian couple for withholding some of their money from the church in Acts). Lewis wrote, “The ultimate question is whether the doctrine of the goodness of God or that of the inerrancy of Scripture is to prevail when they conflict. I think the doctrine of the goodness of God is the more certain of the two.”[3] “The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him [i.e., God]. The conclusion I dread is not ‘So there's no God after all,’ but, ‘So, this is what God is really like. Deceive yourself no longer.’”[4]

  3. Lewis acknowledged that Jesus made an error when Jesus predicted that the Son of Man would come in final judgment within a “generation” of Jesus' day, or, “before those standing [around Jesus after his transfiguration] had all died.”[5]

  4. Lewis focused on Jesusʼ death as “exemplary,” the perfect example of “dying to self” that we all should follow. He did not focus on it as a necessary price to pay to appease God's wrath toward all mankind.[6]

  5. Lewis had no theological difficulty accepting that Genesis may have been “derived from earlier Semitic stories which were Pagan and mythical,”[7] and he found more truth in the story of the “Garden of Eden” when he regarded it as a myth than when he regarded it as history.[8]

  6. Lewis accepted the theory of the biological evolution of the human form from earlier animal species.[9]

  7. Lewis speculated that at least some animals might be granted eternal life with human beings in heaven.[10]

  8. Lewis believed in the miraculously “real” presence of Christ in the communion wafer.[11]

  9. Lewis held a tolerant attitude toward things like beer, tobacco and the cinema, and disagreed with those who found such things “bad in themselves.”[12]

  10. Lewis believed in purgatory, prayers for the dead, and prayers to saints.[13]

  11. Lewis believed that even the most peculiar religions contained “at least some hint of the truth.” “There are people in other religions who…belong to Christ without knowing it.” “We do not know that only those who know Him can be saved through Him.” In fact, in Lewisʼ fairy tale, The Last Battle, prince Emeth “hated” the name of “Aslan [the Christ-figure],” and worshiped the false god, “Tash,” but prince Emeth was loved and accepted by Aslan after Emeth died.[14] Lewis even had a character in his novel, The Great Divorce, say, “St. Paul talked as if all men would be saved.”[15] Moreover, Lewis' central inspiration in the field of Christian apologetics was G. K. Chesterton. And the man whom Lewis called “my spiritual mentor” was George MacDonald. Both men agreed on the theological possibility (if not inevitability) of all mankind being saved.[16]

C. S. Lewis, McDowell, and Tolerance

In contrast to Lewisʼ views, above note what Josh McDowell preached at a Youth for Christ rally in 1994. McDowell got up in front of thousands of young people and denounced tolerance itself: “Tolerance is the worst roar of all, including tolerance for homosexuals, feminists, and religions that don't follow Christ.” (If only C. S. Lewis were alive to tell McDowell, “I dare say, there are people in every religion who are ‘following Christ’ more closely than you at this moment, Mr. McDowell.”) McDowell reiterated in a magazine article published in 1997 that we are teaching our kids to focus on tolerance too much. He called it a “drastic change,” “one of the greatest shifts in history,” adding, “I am convinced we have only a short time to counter this new doctrine of tolerance before it will be too late - for us and our children.”[17] McDowell even had a novel published in 1997 titled, Vote of Intolerance, in which the hero “takes a hard stand against crime, drugs, homosexuality, abortion, euthanasia” (and presumably against all beliefs and convictions other than his own).

McDowell's statements remind me of similar ones reported by a friend who attended a famed retreat/camp for young Christians called “Scroon Lake” in New York State. The retreat was tied in with Jerry Falwell's ministries and Campus Crusade for Christ (who sponsor Josh McDowell Ministries), and other Christian organizations. According to my friend, “On the first day, a speaker pushed Oliver North's book and sang the glories of the Gulf War. Most of the weekend was in the hands of some anti-evolutionists from the Institute for Creation Research in California; one of them, a leading member in the organization with which Josh McDowell is closely associated, said how terrible a sin it was that Charles Darwin was buried in Westminster Abbey. He added that we could all take comfort in the fact that we could, anytime we pleased, go there and trample and spit on his grave. Another speaker went on about the evils of secular education, the evils of tolerance for homosexuals, etc. All of this provoked constant cheers and ‘Amen's’ from the youthful audience. I felt like I was at a Hitler Youth Rally! The weekend ended with someone quoting Jerry Falwell himself: ‘If you're not a born again Christian, you're a failure as a human being.’ If only this sort of ‘Christianity’ were an aberration. Unfortunately, itʼs not.” [18]

Speaking of the difficulty that many fundamentalists and hard-line evangelicals have in tolerating the notion of tolerance, about ten years ago in Greenville, South Carolina (where I live), the County Council (backed by “strong Christian principles”) passed an “Anti-gay resolution.” The council did not advocate running gays out of town, but they felt they had to let homosexuals know that they were to blame for destroying America. In response to the Council's “Anti-gay resolution,” homosexuals organized a gay pride march to take place in Greenville. Some stores on Greenvilleʼs main street hung signs in their windows supporting the march. But on the day of the march those shop owners discovered that someone had jammed toothpicks into their door locks so that they could not open. And two weeks after the gay pride march a local minister organized a “pro-family rally” and told people to boycott all restaurants in downtown Greenville because “waiters with AIDS” were transmitting the disease by “spitting on people's food.” A few weeks later a man who said he was “sent by God to kill homosexuals” spewed obscenities and threats at students in a high school career center in Greenville county (it took numerous police officers to subdue him).[19] Then the Southern Baptists (the majority religion in the South, including Greenville county), voted to boycott Disney because they treat their gay employees as if they were human beings (i.e., Disney pays benefits to the gay companions of their employees).

More recently, a “Christian” on the South Carolina state board of education proposed that the Ten Commandments be displayed in public schools throughout the state. When it was pointed out to him that people of other religions might be offended if their holy sayings were not also displayed, he replied, “Screw the Buddhists and kill the Moslems” (He apparently forgot the commandment “Thou shalt not kill.”) Which brings to mind an incident from a few years ago when a man on a Delta airliner in the skies above Greenville, South Carolina, told a flight attendant that he would “have to kill everyone who was not a born-again Christian.” Luckily, the man was unable to force the cockpit door open and attack the pilots or damage the controls.[20])
Returning to McDowell's magazine article on “Tolerance and Truth,” in it he listed “homosexuality, pornography, and abortion” as the evils taking refuge behind the “new doctrine of tolerance.” But compare McDowell's list of evils with Jesus'. Jesus did not crow on about the dangers of “homosexuality.” Though it certainly existed in his day, the Gospels never have Jesus addressing the subject even once. And he did not rail against “pornography,” though there were sexually explicit statues, pottery, and imagery throughout the Roman Empire. What Jesus railed against was each person's lack of control of their own wandering eyes, not against the objects they might spy. Neither did he cry out against “abortion” though the Greeks and Romans not only employed abortifacients, but also practiced infanticide on unwanted children. Jesus had different priorities and told people that instead of worrying about those who can kill the body, each person should “fear Him who can cast both body and soul into hell.” He urged each person to look into their own hearts, and not to judge the secret motives and desires of others. Nor would “compulsory public prayers” have made much sense to Jesus, who taught, “When you pray, do not do it loudly in the streets [or over satellite TV?] like the hypocrites, but go into your closet to pray in secret.” Jesus was obviously not obsessed with the same issues as McDowell (or today's Religious Right). Instead, Jesus preached things like, “Woe to the rich,[21] they already have their reward;” and, “Woe to the Pharisees” (self-righteous religious leaders who only see goodness in their own narrow causes and evil everywhere else). So if McDowell wishes to warn people of a “new doctrine of tolerance,” he should begin by warning Christians of their “new doctrine of tolerance” toward the wealthy and self-righteous, against which Jesus preached most loudly.

I would say that McDowell has disguised (even from himself) the motive behind his “dangers of tolerance” speeches. He is not “afraid” of a “new doctrine of tolerance.” He just wants intolerance reinstated to its age-old status of a moral and religious obligation. (Just like the Pharisees did.)

McDowell also apparently suffers from selective amnesia regarding the “dangers of intolerance.” C. S. Lewis was far more aware of such dangers and of the bloody history of Christians who persecuted pagans, Jews, Moslems, fellow Christians, and more. Lewis wrote in a letter to a friend, “Even more disturbing as you say, is the ghastly record of Christian persecution. It had begun in Our Lord's time - ‘Ye know not what spirit ye are of’ (John of all people!) [22] I think we must fully face the fact that when Christianity does not make a man very much better, it makes him very much worse…Conversion may make of one who was, if no better, no worse than an animal, something like a devil.”[23]

McDowell should consider whether he might be on the way down that slippery slope toward “devil-dom” that Lewis warned about, or whether he might be greasing up that slope for some of his Christian listeners to slide down. He might also benefit by reading Dr. F. Forrester Church's book, The Seven Deadly Virtues.


  1. Michael J. Christensen, C. S. Lewis on Scripture: His Thoughts on the Nature of Biblical Inspiration, The Role of Revelation and the Question of Inerrancy (Waco, Texas: Word Books, 1979), p. 22.

  2. A. J. Mattill, Jr., “Some Reflections on C. S. Lewisʼ ‘Modern Theology and Biblical Criticism,’” The Journal of Faith and Thought, Spring, 1985, pp. 22-33. See also, Christensen, pp. 18-19, & Appendix A. And, W. H. Lewis, ed., The Letters of C. S. Lewis, (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1966), pp. 286-287. And, John Beversluis, C. S. Lewis and the Search for Rational Religion (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1985).

  3. C. S. Lewis letter dated July 3, 1963 to John Beversluis. Quoted in full in Beversluis, pp. 156f.

  4. C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: Seabury Press, 1963), pp. 9-10.

  5. C. S. Lewis, “The World's Last Night,” The World's Last Night And Other Essays (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, n.d.), pp. 98-99. See also, A. J. Mattill, Jr., “Some Reflections on C. S. Lewisʼ ‘Modern Theology and Biblical Criticism,’” The Journal of Faith and Thought, Spring, 1985, pp. 22-33.

  6. Christensen, pp. 33-34.

  7. C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms (London: Collins, Fontana Books, 1958), p. 93.

  8. Christensen, pp. 34-35.

  9. Ibid., pp. 31-32.

  10. Ibid., pp. 32-33.

  11. Ibid., p. 30.

  12. Ibid., p. 25.

  13. Ibid., pp. 29-30. See also W. H. Lewis, p. 300.

  14. Christensen, pp. 25-30.

  15. When Lewis wrote, “St. Paul talked as if all men would be saved,” he was undoubtedly referring to verses such as, “All Israel will be saved…[for] they [the Jews] are beloved [by God] for the sake of the fathers: for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable…For God has shut up all in disobedience that He might show mercy to all.” [Romans 11:26,28,29,32] “O’ the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past tracing out…For of him, and through him, and unto him, are all things.” [Romans 11:33,36] “For just as all people die because of their union with Adam, in the same way all will be raised to life because of their union with Christ.” [1 Corinthians 15:22] “God was pleased…through him [Jesus] to reconcile to himself all things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.” [Colossians 1:19-20] What, in terms of Pauline texts elsewhere, i.e., “We fight not against flesh and blood but against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places,” could “things in heaven” needing to be “reconciled,” refer to, except the rebellious angels including Satan, “prince of the power of the air!” Universalistic sentiments in the Bible can also be found in Lamentations 3:22,31-33 and Psalm 103:8-10,14 which agree that “the Lord will not reject forever,” “Nor will He keep his anger forever.” 1 Peter 3:19-20 even depicts Jesus “preaching” to “the spirits in prison who were disobedient [in Noah's day].”

    For a thorough discussion of the universalistic side of the Bible, I heartily endorse a slim paperback, titled, Salvation and Damnation by William S. Dalton (Butler, Wis.: Clergy Book Service, 1977). Also see Jan Bonda, The One Purpose of God: An Answer to the Doctrine of Eternal Punishment, in which he scrutinizes church traditions and Scripture - especially Paul's letter to the Romans – and concludes that neither Paul nor the prophets to whom he appeals show any trace of supporting the doctrine of eternal damnation. On the contrary, they tell us that God wants to save all people, and that He will not rest until that goal has been achieved. I am sure that C. S. Lewis would have been pleased to suggest books like those to Josh McDowell if Lewis had lived long enough to meet Josh.

  16. Babinski, pp. 213 & 218.

  17. Josh McDowell, “Tolerance and Truth,” Moody, Vol. 97, no. 4, March/April 1997, pp. 34 & 36.

  18. Bruce Wildish, e-mail message sent to Edward Babinski, dated Wednesday, August 24, 1994.

  19. “School Intruder Arrested,” Greenville News (Friday, May 23, 1997, p. 1D).

  20. “Man Tries To Storm Cockpit of Airliner,” Greenville News (p. 1A, date of paper was cropped off my copy of the article, but definitely between 1986 and 1994).

  21. Speaking of Jesusʼ frequent denunciations of the rich that McDowell and other hard-line evangelicals frequently ignore, Jesus would probably be more appalled by the gargantuan swindles perpetrated both in this country and abroad as reported in the Wall Street Journal, rather than by local street criminals (as shown on the television show, Cops) the latter of whom he would have far more compassion for. For those who disagree, I suggest reading the eye opening article in The Nation, April 7, 1997, “A Year in Corporate Crime.”

  22. In the “Gospel of John,” Jesusʼ enemies are depicted more than sixty times as simply, “The Jews.” Jesusʼ concern for Israel as seen in the Gospel of Matthew (10:5-6 & 15:24) is absent from the Jesus who appears in the Gospel of John (5:45-47 & 8:31-47). The Gospel John, having been written after Matthew, Mark and Luke, probably reflects the growing breakdown of relations between the early Christian church and the Jewish synagog.

  23. C. S. Lewis in a letter to Bede Griffiths, dated Dec. 20, 1961, not long before Lewisʼ death, The Letters of C. S. Lewis, ed., W. H. Lewis, (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1966), p. 301.


Josh McDowell spoke out on July 15th, 2011, during the Unshakable Truth, Relevant Faith event at the Billy Graham Training Center. There he identified what he claims as being the greatest threat to Christians…the internet. Why? Because it gives those who are skeptical “almost equal access to your kids as your youth pastor and you have… whether you like it or not.” The internet “has leveled the playing field [giving equal access to skeptics].”

The Holy Heavens of the Hebrews

Holy Heavens of the Hebrews and Cosmology

The ancient Hebrews pictured the Lord and His “holy heavens” lying somewhat nearer to the earth than we imagine today:

He bowed the heavens and came down.–2nd Samuel 22:10

The Lord came down [from heaven].–Genesis 11:5

Elijah was lifted up by a whirlwind to heaven.–2 Kings 2:11

Who hath ascended up into heaven, or descended?–Proverbs 30:4

Angels “ascended and descended” on a “ladder” reaching to “heaven.”–Gen. 28:12

Ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of man.–John 1:51

The ancient Babylonians, Assyrians and Hebrews, pictured heavenly creatures like angels (seraphim, etc.) with bird-like wings flying through the earthʼs atmosphere to a “heaven” lying directly above the earth rather than through light-years of space lacking an atmosphere and where bird-like appendages would prove useless. (The ancient Mesopotamian tale, “Etana and the Eagle,” features Etana use of an eagle to fly to heaven.)

“Manna,” the food supplied to the Hebrews in the wilderness, falls from heaven.–Exodus 16, Numbers 11 & Deuteronomy 8

Angels who told of Jesusʼs birth “went away from [the shepherds] into heaven.”–Luke 2:15

A “star [of heaven]…went on before the [wise men], until it came and stood over where the child [Jesus] was”–Mat. 2:9

Such a “star” would have to be incredibly small to lead the wise men and then stand directly above the house where Jesus was born. Such a tale also helped reinforce belief in the holiness of the heavens, since those heavens were depicted as being able to direct people in a miraculous fashion.

The heavens were opened unto him [Jesus at his baptism], and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him: And lo a voice from heaven.–Matthew 3:16-17

On the morning of Jesusʼ resurrection, “an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it.”-Matthew 28:2

At “the Ascension,” “[the resurrected Jesus] was lifted up…and a cloud received him out of their sight” (Acts 1:9), whereupon Jesus took his seat “in the heavens…in the true tabernacle [tent], which the Lord pitched.”–Heb. 8:1,2

And Jesus will return in the sky “seated at the right hand of Power” with the “clouds of heaven.”–Mat. 26:64

The Lord will descend from heaven…and we shall be caught up…in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.–1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17

Heaven opened, and a certain vessel descending upon him [Peter], as it had been a great sheet knit at the four corners, and let down to the earth.–Acts 10:11

…a door standing open in heaven, and the…voice…said, Come up here.–Revelation 4:1

And there was a great earthquake…and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, as a fig tree casts its unripe figs when shaken by a great wind. And the sky was split apart…and [men] hid themselves in caves…and said to the mountains…hide us from the presence of Him who sits on the throne.–Revelation 6:12-16

I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.–Acts 7:56

The “heavenly city,” the “New Jerusalem” “comes down out of heaven” to earth.–Revelation 3:12, 21:2

God is in heaven, and you are on the earth.–Ecclesiastes 5:2

The heavens are the heavens of the Lord; But the earth He has given to the sons of men.–Psalm 115:16

Further corroboration of the ancient view of the near proximity of God and heaven overhead, is not hard to find. The Babylonians built towers, called ziggurats, reaching toward heaven to attract the sky godsʼ attention. (Compare the Bibleʼs tale of the “tower of Babel”—Gen. 11:5) Mountains were like natureʼs ziggurats. Abraham ascended a mountain to sacrifice his son to the Lord. Moses spoke to the Lord after having ascended a mountain. (Ex. 19:20) Jerusalem was built on a holy hill nicknamed “Mt. Zion.” Jesus was transfigured on a mountaintop.And the resurrected Jesus was seen on a “mountain which Jesus had designated” in Galilee (Mat. 28:16), or is said to have ascended into heaven from a mountain near Jerusalem (Acts 1).

Based on the authority of many such Bible verses, the heavenly/spiritual realm was believed to lie “above” the earth and so near that climbing a mountain brought you relatively “nearer” to God. Of course, we know today that climbing a mountain only brings you infinitesimally “nearer” to the nearest star that still lays millions to billions of (conventional) miles away.

Moreover, the Hebrews had to be warned, many times, not to worship what lay “above” them, i.e., “the sun, moon, and stars, all the host of heaven.” (Deut. 4:19; 17:3; 2 Kings 17:16; 21:5; 23:5; Jer. 7:18; 19:13; 44:17,19,25) They never suspected that the earth was just as much a “heavenly object” as all the stars they “looked up to.” They never suspected that the earth was an integral part of them, sailing among the other “heavenly bodies.” If they had, then they would never have been tempted to “worship” objects that lay “above” their heads—because the earth lay equally “above” all those other heavenly objects depending on oneʼs perspective. Or as Nietzsche once put it, “So long as thou feelest the stars as an ‘above thee,’ thou lackest the eye of the discerning one.” (Friedrich Nietzsche, “The Sage as Astronomer,” Beyond Good and Evil)

For thousands of years (until the Protestant Reformation), pagans, Jews and Christians agreed that the stars lay “above” man and “nearer” to God, while Christians added that the earth was a “sink of impurity” with hell lying at the earthʼs center. Such a view was inspired by Biblical passages that spoke of the heavens above the earth as the holy abode of God and angels (Ps. 115:16; Eccles. 5:2; Gen. 11:5,7; 28:12; Isa. 40:22; Heb. 8:1,2; 2 Kings 2:11; 2 Sam. 22:10; Luke 2:15; Mat. 23:22; 26:64; Acts 1:9), with sheol, hades, the land of the dead, hell, lying beneath the earth (Job 11:8; Ps. 71:20; 88:3,6; 1 Sam. 28:8,13,15; Amos 9:2,3; Philip.2:10; Rev. 5:13).

Today, of course, we know that the sun, planets and stars lying “above the earth” are not “nearer to God” nor “nearer to a heavenly/spiritual realm” than we are on the earthʼs surface. And some people even dare to believe that perhaps God has given man not just the “earth” but also the “heavens” too, to explore.

Ancient Hebrew Metaphors Demonstrate the Relative Size Difference Between Their Cosmos & the Modern One (The Latterʼs Size Being Based on Telescopic Observation

Ancient Hebrew psalmists drew a parallel between the height of the “clouds” and the wondrous height of their Lordʼs “truth”:

For Thy lovingkindness is great to the heavens, And Thy truth to the clouds.–Psalm 57:10

Comparing the heights of Godʼs truth to the heights of the clouds no longer impresses modern man. Today we look down upon the clouds from aircraft and measure “heights” in light-years.

[Can] the heavens above be measured?–Jeremiah 31:37

The phrase, “cannot be measured,” refers in Hebrew to any great height, or number of finite things that no one would dream of measuring or counting one by one: “As the host of heaven cannot be counted, and the sand of the sea cannot be measured, so I will multiply the descendants of David.” (Jer. 33:22) Actually, the “descendants of David” total an incredibly smaller number than the number of known stars in the cosmos, but to the Hebrews both sets of numbers appeared equally “immeasurable.” Compare, Genesis 41:49, “Joseph stored up grain in great abundance like the sand of the sea, until he stopped measuring it, for it was beyond measure.” Such things appeared “immeasurable” to the ancient Hebrews because they could not conceive of ways of measuring them. Two thousand years later we have developed ways of measuring the “height” of clouds, the moon, the sun, and other galaxies. So, today, “measuring the heavens” is somebodyʼs job.

When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou are mindful of him?–Psalm 8:3-4

Does this verse demonstrate that the Psalmist was inspired by God to describe how small man appears when compared with the size of the modern cosmos? Hardly. No “inspiration” was necessary. The “heavens” referred to the clouds, and to the sun, moon and stars that the psalmist believed did not lie far above the clouds, along with the angelic heavenly realm lying not far above the sun, moon and stars. Any similarities between this ancient verse and modern day cosmic angst is merely relative. No doubt the cosmos must have felt intangibly huge to the ancients, regardless of their belief that the earth beneath their feet was the flat firm foundation of creation. In fact it may be that their cosmos felt more intangibly huge to them than our cosmos does to us because we can fly round the world, above the clouds, gaze at photos of outer space, and open a book on astronomy and read the distances to stars and galaxies set down for us in tangible numerical form.

Of course, knowing what he know today about the heights of the heavens, we are not likely to make the same poetic analogies as the ancients, like comparing the Lordʼs “truth” to the “height of the clouds,” which sounds less grand than it did to the ancients. Neither do we believe, along with the ancients (including the ancient Hebrews), that climbing a mountain or a tower brings us literally nearer to God.

Things Ancient Near Eastern Creation Stories Have in Common

  1. They Begin With About Four Basic Elements

    All ancient recipes for creation begin with the simplest of ingredients because the ancient mind was unaware of the complex differences between things and could only conceive of such differences in the broadest of categories, such as distinguishing between “earth, wind, water, light and darkness.” Such were the “elements” of creation. Hence, according to ancient Egyptian tales of creation, nothing existed in the beginning except a waste of “waters,” also known as “the deep.” Greek tales speak of “earth, murky night, briny deep.” Babylonian tales speak of “waters.” Some ancient Sumerian tales spoke not of water, but of another basic ingredient, a mountain of “earth” that existed in the beginning. Phoenician/Canaanite tales speak of “the beginning of all things” as “a windy air and a black chaos which embraced the air and generated a watery mixture, and from this sprang all the seed of creation.” The Hebrew tale in the book of Genesis has the “spirit of God” (the literal Hebrew word for “spirit” also meant “wind or breath”) moving on the surface of “waters” with “light” and “earth” to follow.

  2. They Invoke A Belief In the Magical Power of Words

    Many ancient tales of creation, not just the Hebrew one, attributed supernatural power to a godʼs “word,” i.e., simply “say the magic word” and things instantly appear, disappear, or are transformed. According to the Egyptian Book of the Dead every act of creation represented a thought of Temu and its expression in “words.” A host of Egyptian creation myths agreed that the agency of creation was the godʼs “word.” The pre-Babylonian civilization of Sumeria believed that all things existed and were created by the “word” of Enki. In fact, they viewed the “word” of all their gods as a definite and real thing—a divine entity or agent. Even Sumerian personal names reflected their belief in the power of the “word,” including names like, “The word of the wise one is eternal,” “His word is true,” and, “The word which he spoke shakes the heavens.” After the Sumerians came the Babylonians and their creation tale, Enuma Elish (nicknamed by scholars, the “Babylonian Genesis”), which began, “When Heaven had not been named, Firm ground had not been called by name…when no name had been named.” The Hebrew tale arose out of that same milieu.

    Added to the ancient belief in the “magic” of “naming” things, was also the belief that the “word” of a ruler or king must be obeyed, and the gods were believed to rule over nature much like kings were believed to rule over their fellow men, i.e., by “divine right.” Therefore, whatever a god said, was “done” in nature. A fragment from Sumeria states, “Thy word upon the sea has been projected and returns not [void].” The Babylonian Enuma Elish, states, “May I [Lord Marduk, the Babylonian creator], through the utterance of my mouth determine the destines…Whatever I create shall remain unaltered, The command of my lips shall not return [void], it shall not be changed.” Compare the Hebrew usage of the same phrase in Isaiah 55:11, “So shall my [the Lordʼs] word be which goeth up from my mouth; it shall not return unto me void, For it shall have done that which I desired.”

  3. They Divide The Ingredients in Two

    It was a common feature of early Greek cosmological beliefs, which they shared with those of the Near East and elsewhere, that in the beginning all was fused together in an undifferentiated mass. The initial act in the making of the world, whether accomplished by the fiat of a creator or by other means, was a separation or division. As the Hebrew myth has it, “God divided the light from the darkness…and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament.”—W. K. C. Guthrie, A History of Greek Philosophy, Vol. I, (Cambridge Univ. Press: 1962)

    Ancient tales of creation often involved a division of primeval stuff into two equal halves—like cracking a cosmic egg in two and making “heaven” out of the top half and “earth” out of the bottom half. A Sumerian tale of creation has heaven and earth arise from a celestial mountain split in two. In Egyptian tales a god and goddess are pulled apart: “Shu, the uplifter, raised Nut (a water goddess) on high. She formed the firmament, which is arched over Seb, the god of the earth, who lies prostrate beneath her…In the darkness are beheld the stars which sparkle upon Nutʼs body.” The Egyptians also employed the less mythologized concept of a celestial dome (above which lies “the heavenly ocean”). In the Babylonian Enuma Elish, a water goddess is split in two by the creator to form upper and lower bodies of water, the upper half also becoming a “heavenly dome” that held back vast celestial waters. The Hebrew tale in Genesis has the creator make “a firmament in the midst [middle] of the waters, that it may divide…the water which was below the firmament from the water which was above the firmament.” Both the Babylonian and Hebrew tales continue with the “earth” being created in the lower half of the recently divided waters.

    It is interesting to note that the Father of Protestantism, Martin Luther, was adamant that the Bible spoke of waters lying above the moon, the sun, and the stars. He countered the views of astronomers of his day with the words of Scripture:

    Scripture simply says that the moon, the sun, and the stars were placed in the firmament of heaven, below and above which heaven are the waters…We Christians must be different from the philosophers [astronomers] in the way we think about the causes of things. And if some are beyond our comprehension like those before us concerning the waters above the heavens, we must believe them rather than wickedly deny them or presumptuously interpret them in conformity; with our understanding.–Martin Luther, Lectures on Genesis, Vol. 1, Lutherʼs Works, Concordia Pub. House, 1958

    Also, a Hebrew psalm referred to “waters above the sun, moon, and stars”:

    Praise Him, sun and moon; Praise Him stars of light! Praise Him highest heavens, and the waters that are above the heavens!–Psalm 148:3-4

    Furthermore, when the book of Genesis described a “flood” that covered the whole world, and reduced the world to its pre-creation watery beginning, the story states that the “flood gates of the sky” were “opened.” Neither did the author of that fable suppose that all the water above the firmament fell to earth, but that the “flood gates” had to be “shut” to stop more water from falling, and the creator had to promise not to flood the earth again with such waters. So, the Bible agrees with Luther that “the waters above the firmament” remained “up there”–and this agrees completely with ancient tales of creation in which the world arose from a division of waters which encompass creation still, and which the creator keeps at bay, having prepared a place in the “midst of such waters” for the earth.

  4. They Make Do With Whatʼs At Hand, Like a Potter Might

    Ancient creation accounts never explain where the first “waters,” or “earth,” or “darkness,” came from. Nor do the various creators make everything “out of nothing.” They often have to resort to creating plants, animals and human beings out of the earth or from parts of divine beings. Sometimes this includes molding creatures like a sculptor molds images out of clay—then imparting some magic to them. The Hebrew tale of creation in Genesis is no exception. It does not say where the water and the darkness came from “in the beginning.” Neither does it say that the “earth” was created out of nothing, but simply that “the dry land appeared” after the creator “gathered together the waters into one place.” Moreover, the Hebrew creator does not create vegetation and living creatures out of nothing but has “the earth” sprout vegetation, and “the earth” bring forth living creatures. Nor does the Hebrew creator make man out of nothing, but, “formed man from the dust of the earth.” Then “blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living being,” kind of like blowing on a clay sculpture to magically bring it to life. Neither was the divine “breath of life” shared only with man, for the same phrase is used in regard to every living creature that the earth brought forth, “all in whose nostrils was the breath of life.” (Gen. 7:21,22)

    In the Babylonian tale, Enuma Elish, the creator of heaven and earth, Marduk, is called “the god of the good breath [of life],” and he creates man from something divine, the blood of a diety. So there is a “divine connection” between man and the gods. (Sort of like the Hebrew tale where man is created in the “image” of the divine creator and brought to life by divine breath.) Alternate creation accounts from ancient Babylon have mankind springing up from the ground, or created from the flesh and blood of a god mixed with clay, or even fashioned by the chief Babylonian god with the help of a divine “potter”—not unlike the Genesis account of man being “formed [molded] from the dust of the ground.”

  5. Their View of Creation & Cosmology is Based on Appearances

    Another factor most ancient tales of creation share is that living things do not evolve from one another but are each made separately in the form in which the author already was most familiar. Plants and animals are described as having been created in the forms in which they appeared in the authorʼs own day. In a similar fashion, the earth was described as being created in the form in which it appeared to the ancient mind, which was “flat.” The earth appeared to be the flat and firm foundation of creation, while the sun, moon, and stars appeared to be relatively smaller than the earth and less solidly “set” in creation since they moved across the sky, hence even their creation came after the earthʼs—like light bulbs screwed into itʼs ceiling. And such objects might even “fall to earth.” (Some of the tiny bright lights in the sky were referred to as “wandering stars,” since they did not move in unison with the rest—though much later mankind discovered that those “wanderers” were not “stars” at all, but planets) And the earth appeared to lie beneath a vast dome stretched out above it. The ancient mind focused on the most basic of elements and the most basic of appearances when it came to its creation stories.

    Likewise, alternating periods of “day and night” were perceived by ancient earth dwellers as constituting the rhythm of the whole cosmos. The Hebrews even divided their cosmic creation account into “mornings and evenings,” “nights and days.” But today astronomers recognize the earth as merely one of a class of objects that spins on its axis and circles stars, with many other objects out there, each having their own “days and nights” of differing durations. There may even be a planet somewhere that spins so slowly on its axis that one side of the planet experiences perpetual “day” while the other side experiences perpetual “night.”

    Lastly, every one of the “six days” of creation in the Hebrew tale is devoted to creating things for the earth alone, or creating plants and animals to fill it. When the sun, moon, and stars are created, it is merely to light the earth below, and for signs and seasons on earth. Even on the first day of creation when the Hebrew creator made “light,” it was so He could set up “days and nights” for the earth. How earth-centered is that? Or how naively based on appearances as seen from earth?

  6. It is Not Necessary to Impute “Divine Inspiration” to Such Creation Stories. Only a Low Level of Creative Imagination is Required to Explain the Origin of Such Tales

    The level of inspiration required to explain the origin of naive and simplistic concepts like the elements being divided into “earth, wind, light and darkness,” “believing in the power of magical words,” “dividing the ingredients in two,” “making do with whatʼs at hand,” and, “things created as they appeared”—is equal to the level of mental sophistication of a young child. In fact the Harvard Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics conducted a study during the 1980s on the mental sophistication of children and discovered that almost one-half of children aged ten years and younger in the United States and other countries believe the earth is flat. And those who say it is round picture “round” as a giant pancake or a curved sky covering a flat ground. One in four thirteen-year olds also believes the earth is flat.

“Evenings & Mornings” / “Days & Nights,” Were Created Before the Sun?

Genesis tells us that the creator “divided the light from the darkness” and instituted “evenings and mornings.” But He did that “three days” before the “sun” was made! So the sun was kind of an afterthought, and alternating periods of light and darkness were Godʼs primary creations. The book of Job like the book of Genesis, agrees that “light and darkness” do not rely upon the sun, but have their own separate and distinct dwelling-places:

Where is the way where light dwelleth? and as for darkness, where is the place thereof?–Job 38:19

Therefore the belief arose, especially among Christians, that the light of “day” had no relationship to the light of the sun. Indeed, in the fourth century, Saint Ambrose wrote in his work on creation:

We must remember that the light of day is one thing and the light of the sun, moon, and stars another—the sun by his rays appearing to add luster to the daylight. For before the sun rises the day dawns, but is not in full refulgence, for the sun adds still further to its splendor. (Hexameron, Lib. 4, Cap.III).

Ambroseʼs teaching remained one of the “treasures of sacred knowledge committed to the Church” right up till the Middle Ages at which time Jews could still be tortured or condemned to death for disputing it! Like all dogmas it inspired subversive humor from those forced to assent to it:

“Which is more important, the sun or the moon?” a citizen of Chelm asked the rabbi (“Chelm” being a village of Jews who lived in the shadow of the Inquisition).

“What a silly question!” snapped the rabbi. “The moon, of course! It shines at night when we really need it. But who needs the sun to shine when it is already broad daylight?”

(Joke drawn from Encyclopedia of Jewish Humor, Henry D. Spalding, Ed., New York: 1969)

According to the first chapter of Genesis, the earth was created before the sun, moon, and “the stars also” (notice how the “stars” were regarded as mere trifles, lumped together at the end of the inventory). This order of creation is absolutely farcical. Our earth is a child of the sun. The offspring could not have existed before the parent.

The sun, moon, and stars were “made and set” in heaven “to give light upon the earth?” When we look beyond our solar system into the mighty universe of other suns and planets, we see that the cosmogony of Genesis is a dream of childish ignorance. When the Greek philosopher Anaxagoras dared to suggest that the sun was as large as the Peloponesus (the southern part of Greece) he startled his Greek contemporaries. What must have been the notions of a grossly unscientific people like the Jews? For them it was easy to regard the sun, moon, and “the stars also,” as mere satellites of the earth, “set” up in the sky as lanterns for the human race.

George William Foote, “The Creation Story,” Bible Romances

Further Comparisons Between Modern Astronomy & Ancient Near Eastern Creation Tales

  1. A Lot of Work To “Not Light” The Earth

    If the sun, moon, and stars were created “to light the earth,” then why create over a hundred billion galaxies whose light is invisible to the naked eye? (Only two nearby galaxies can be seen with the naked eye, and they appear no brighter than two dim stars in our sky.) In other words, over a hundred billion galaxies produce light that can only be seen with our most powerful telescopes, and it took telescopes recently mounted in space to detect 99/100ths of those galaxies. And galaxy is composed of about a billion stars, some of which are far larger than our sun. Therefore, the creation account in Genesis would be more believable if it told us how much trouble God went through to not “light the earth” with the rest of creation.

    Astronomers are even hypothesizing that the cosmos may contain “dark” matter and “dark” energy, so much “dark” stuff in fact, that most of the cosmos might still be invisible to us even with our satellite telescopes surveying it to a depth of thirteen-billion light-years in every direction. Again, thatʼs a lot of work to do to “not light” the earth.

  2. Stars Are Still Being Created

    According to the Bible, God made the stars on the fourth day of creation. Even more remarkable is the fact that He is creating them still, though the latter miracle is considered not worth mentioning by any of the Bibleʼs authors. (I wonder why? The creation of new stars is being chronicled continually in magazines and journals like Astronomy, Sky & Telescope and The Astrophysical Journal, just to name a few.)

    And God is still creating new planets (that continue to form out of rings of matter circling stars—see the above mentioned magazines).

  3. Uninhabited Planets Have Their Own “Great Lamps To Light Their Nights & For Signs & Seasons”

    Genesis 1:16 depicts the sun and moon as “two great lamps” [literal Hebrew translation]. Those “great lamps” were made to “light” the earth, to “rule” the earthʼs days and nights, and, “for signs and seasons” on earth. But a couple thousand years after the Bible was written, astronomers discovered a curious thing about that “great lamp” the moon. They discovered that Mars has two moons. Yet Mars has no people who need their steps “lit” at night, or who need to know the “signs and seasons.” Even more curiously, it was discovered that Neptune has four moons, Uranus has eleven, Jupiter has sixteen, and Saturn has eighteen moons (one of them, Titan, is even larger than the planet Mercury). The earth was created with just moon, and it “rules the night” so badly that for three nights out of every twenty-eight it abdicates its rule and doesnʼt light the earth at all—at which time creationists bump into each other in the dark.

  4. Other Plants Raises the Possibility of Life on Other Worlds, From Simple to More Complex Forms of Life. But the Bible Says the Sun, Moon & Stars Were “Made and Set” Above The Earth After the Earth Had Been Created and to “Light the Earth” And For “Signs & Seasons [Literally, Holy Festivals]” on Earth

    What fraction of stars in our Galaxy might play host to planets that can support multi-cellular life? Lineweaver and others have calculated the probable extent of hospitable space for complex life in the Galaxy, called the “Galactic habitable zone.” The criteria include distance from deadly supernovae, enough heavy elements to form terrestrial planets, and enough time for life to evolve. Based on these criteria, the Galactic habitable zone is an annular region between 7 to 9 kiloparsecs from the Galactic center and contains about 10% of the Milky Way stars with ages between 4 to 8 billion years old. [The Milky Way, like most of the 100 billion other galaxies in the cosmos, contains roughly a billion stars.]–Science, Vol. 303, Jan. 2, 2004

    Keeping in mind the above “odds,” there may be plenty of possible planets on which life might exist. But what does that imply about the Bibleʼs understanding of the cosmos when interpreted literally as in Genesis and the New Testament? See the following quotations to understand the questions raised by the notion of “[intelligent] life elsewhere in the galaxy.”

“A New Heaven?” Even for People Living in Distant Galaxies?

According to the book of Revelation a “new earth” and a “new heaven” will be created after Jesus returns. Occupants of other planets throughout the hundred billion galaxies of our present “heaven” will no doubt be surprised to receive such an unearned favor, all because of what happens on our little world. Or is this simply another example of how the Hebrews viewed the earth as the flat firm foundation of creation with the heavens above created simply for the earth below?

Though it is not a direct article of the Christian faith that the planet we inhabit is the only inhabited one in the cosmos, yet it is so worked up from what is called the Mosaic account of creation, the story of Eve and the forbidden fruit, and the counterpart of that story, the death of the Son of God—that to believe otherwise renders the Christian system of faith at once little and ridiculous, and scatters it in the mind like feathers in the air.

Thomas Paine, The Age of Reason

So long as people believed, as St. Paul himself did, in one week of creation and a past of 4,000 years—so long as people thought the stars were satellites of the earth and that animals were there to serve man—there was no difficulty in believing that a single man could have ruined everything, and that another man had saved everything.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, “Fall, Redemption, and Geocentrism,”Christianity and Evolution

Did Jesus die uniquely to save the sins of human beings on planet Earth, or is he being strung up somewhere in the universe on every Friday?

Michael Ruse, “Booknotes,” Biology & Philosophy, Vol. 14, No. 1, Jan. 1999

The Tower of Babel

The tale of the tower of Babel is an explanatory myth, an early attempt to account for the diversity of language and the diffusion of humanity after the legendary flood of Noah:

And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech. And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there. And they said one to another, let us make brick, and burn them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. And they said, let us build us a city and a tower.–Genesis 11

Next thing you know, “God” “comes down” to “see the city and the tower,” but He complains that “nothing will be restrained from them which they have imagined to do,” or, “nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.” So God decides to “confuse their tongues.”

But doesnʼt Godʼs complaint make more sense today than it did back then? Today we have accomplished things deemed “impossible” by the ancients. We have “measured the heights of the stars,” “searched out the foundations of the earth,” laid claim to the moon, sent space probes beyond Pluto, diminished or halted plagues (via modern plumbing, sanitation, vaccines and antibiotics), avoided deadly lightning strikes (via the invention of the lightning rod), greatly increased the odds of infant survival, etc. In short, we have reduced the destructive potentials of acts of nature that were previously considered “acts of God.” Mankind is also unlocking the secrets of DNA, and probably will unlock secrets of artificial intelligence too. All this despite the language barriers that “God” allegedly set up at Babel. Surely it is absurd to think that the same God who allowed man to develop all of the above marvels once pulled a hissy fit over a bunch of brick layers? (“And they said one to another, let us make brick, and burn them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. And they said, let us build us a city and a tower.”)

Furthermore, compare the way “God” reacts in Genesis chapter 11 (the story of the tower of Babel) with how “God” reacts in Genesis chapter 3 (the story of Adam and Eve being tossed out of paradise). God complained about the city of Babel, worried that “Nothing will be restrained from them which they have imagined to do,” so God reacted by “confusing their tongues.” While after Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit “God said, ‘The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.’ So God banished him from the Garden of Eden.” Such stories merely resemble the way all ancient gods were depicted, jealously guarding their “knowledge,” their secret of “eternal life,” or other divine things.

Let me add that all known languages were not imposed upon mankind once and for all at “Babel.” Linguists and etymologists have found that languages are a product of evolution and keep evolving. Just compare Old English, Middle English and Modern English. Or compare the various European languages that evolved from the Latin tongue spoken by people of the Roman Empire.

Today however, the number of languages spoken on earth is diminishing; thousands of languages have become extinct. I guess itʼs Babel in reverse. The “curse” has been reversed?

The Heavens Are The Lordʼs

The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lordʼs: but the earth hath he given to the children of men.–Psalm 115:16

So man was only “given the earth,” and not heaven. For “the heavens are the Lordʼs.” So should we not be afraid to have left footprints and garbage on the moon in the Lordʼs heavens? Should we not tremble after having launched spacecraft named after pagan gods (Mercury, Gemini and Apollo) into the Lordʼs heavens? Speaking of “Mercury, Gemini and Apollo,” the Bible even forbids mentioning the “names” of “other gods!” (Exodus 23:13) Seems to me that the same followers of the Bible who picket abortion clinics need to start picketing NASA. We need to stop mucking round in the Lordʼs heavens before something bad happens like it did at the “city and tower of Babel.” Space exploration must stop! Man was only given the earth! Just to be safe we also ought to point our telescopes away from the heavens. Itʼs an invasion of Godʼs privacy.

I was watching TV when the Challenger shuttle exploded. That was a sad thing. Was there anything that you could have done? Were you mad because they came too close to your territory? Weʼre sorry.

–Jose, in Childrenʼs Letters to God, compiled by Stuart Hample and Eric Marshall

A Chronology of the Raqiaʼ & “Waters Above the Raquiaʼ”

The Hebrew Past

  • Raqiaʼ is solid throughout the OT.

Fourth to Third to Second Century BCE

  • The Book of Enoch (in one of its oldest sections, “The Book of Watchers”) affirms a solid firmament.
  • •The Book of Jubilees affirms a solid firmament above which are half the waters of creation, and above which God lives. (Jubilees 2:4-5,8-10; 19:23-28)

Second Century BCE:

  • Hebrew scholars translate their Scriptures into Greek (the Septuagint or LXX version of the Hebrew Bible) and employ the Greek word stereoma, based on stereos, which means “firm/hard,” as the closest equivalent to the Hebrew word, raqiaʼ. And the Song of the Three Holy Children [found in some copies of the Book of Daniel after 3:23], says that “waters be above the heavens” and are called upon to bless the Lord, but after the reader is brought closer to the things of the earth, clouds are called upon to bless the Lord, thus distinguishing between the two.

First Century CE:

  • The authors of the NT assume a three-tier cosmos, consisting of God in heaven above, a flat earth below, and people/beings “under the earth” (Philippians 2:10; Revelation 5:3, 5:13; see also Ephesians 4:9–10).

Second to Fifth Century CE:

  • Origen, a second-century church father, calls the firmament, “without doubt firm and solid; and it is this which ‘divides the water which is above heaven from the water which is below heaven.’” Ambrose, a fourth-century church father, comments, “the specific solidity of this exterior firmament is meant.” Jerome, a fourth–fifth-century church father, and translator of Genesis from Hebrew into Latin, translates raqiaʼ as firmamentum, based on firmus, which means “firm/hard.” Augustine, a fourth–fifth-century church father, says, “the term ‘firmament’ does not compel us to imagine a stationary heaven: we may understand this name as given to indicate not that it is motionless but that it is solid and that it constitutes an impassable boundary between the water above and the waters below.” Augustine adds, “Whatever the nature of the waters [above the firmament], we must believe in them, for the authority of Scripture is greater than the capacity of manʼs mind,” a phrase echoed by Martin Luther as late as the fifteenth century.
  • Jewish writings agree with those of the Christian fathers: In 2 Enoch [dated by some to the first century CE] Enoch is placed on a cloud, transported above the first heaven, and shown “a very great Sea, greater than the earthly Sea.” The Testament of Adam says, “waters [mighty waves] are above heaven” and praise God in the fifth hour, while clouds are distinguished from such waters by being made in the sixth hour. Rabbinical works mention the firmament and the waters above it, and speculate as to the firmamentʼs composition and thickness. [For citations to statements made in the preceding two paragraphs, see Paul H. Seely, “The Firmament and the Water Above,” Parts I and II, listed in note 2.]

Fifth to Fifteenth Century CE:

  • Most medieval theologians follow the lead of the Bible and church fathers and claim with certainty that waters lay above the planets and stars. But what kind of waters? Thomas Aquinas says such waters must be material, but he adds that their nature depends on the composition of the firmament–as is his custom, he describes various possibilities. But the most popular view of the firmament is as a “sphere of fixed stars” above which lays a “sphere of water” in liquid or crystalline form, and by “crystalline” most mean “liquid.” Indeed, in the twelfth century, Bartholomew the Englishman explains that the waters above the starry firmament are called “crystalline, not because they are hard like a crystal but because they are uniformly luminous and transparent.” Such waters are said to reflect downward the light of the luminaries and to prevent the melting of the firmament. [Edward Grant, Planets, Stars, and Orbs: The Medieval Cosmos, 1200–1687, first paperback ed. (Cambridge, England: Cambridge University Press), 1996, p. 103; and Grant, “Journey Through the Spheres: The Cosmos in the Middle Ages,” lecture delivered at Rice University, Houston, Texas on Friday, March 14, 1997,]

Sixteenth Century:

  • Martin Luther, in his Lectures on Genesis, writes of “this marvelous expansion of thick mist Moses calls a firmament… (whose) Maker gave solidity to this fluid material.”
  • John Calvin, unlike Luther, is more influenced by astronomy than the Bible, and he writes: “Things that we observe plainly show the fixed stars are above the planets, and that the planets themselves are placed in different orbits… the sun, moon, and stars are not confusedly mixed together, but each has its own position and station assigned to it” [John Calvin, Commentary on the Book of Psalms, trans. James Anderson (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1949) Psalm CXLVIII, p. 305]. Calvin also admits that the biblical description of the moon as one of only “two great lights” is at odds with astronomy: “If the astronomer inquires respecting the actual dimensions of the planets, he will find the moon to be less than Saturn”; but Calvin excuses such a gaff by claiming Genesis 1 features a “gross method of instruction.” [Commentary on Genesis, trans. John King (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1948), pp. 79, 87; see also, Scott M. Manetsch, “Problems with the Patriarchs: John Calvinʼs Interpretation of Difficult Passages in Genesis,” Westminster Theological Journal 67 (2005): 13–15.]

    Iʼm willing to bet that the ancients, not having the benefit of Calvinʼs astronomical knowledge, held a more Lutheran view of the cosmos; compare their opinions below:

    • “Moses describes the special use of this raqiaʼ, ‘to divide the waters from the waters,’ from which words arise a great difficulty. For it appears opposed to common sense, and quite incredible, that there should be waters above the heaven” [Calvin, Commentary on Genesis, trans. John King (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1948) pp. 79, 87].
    • “Scripture simply says that the moon, the sun, and the stars were placed in the firmament of the heaven, below and above which… are the waters… We Christians must be different from the philosophers in the way we think about the causes of things. And if some are beyond our comprehension like those before us concerning the waters above the heavens, we must believe them rather than wickedly deny them or presumptuously interpret them in conformity with our understanding” [Martin Luther, Lutherʼs Works, vol. 1, Lectures on Genesis, ed. Janoslaw Pelikan (St. Louis, MI: Concordia, 1958), pp. 30, 42, 43].

Nineteenth Century:

  • Anglican theologians and scholars contribute to a book that sums up the growing challenge to interpreting Genesis and other parts of the Bible in a literal fashion. One contributor writes, “The root [of raqiaʼ] is generally applied to express the hammering or beating out of metal plates; hence something beaten or spread out. It has been pretended that the word raqiaʼ may be translated ‘expanse’ so as merely to mean empty space. The context sufficiently rebuts this” [C. W. Goodwin, “On the Mosaic Cosmology,” Essays and Reviews (West Strand, London: John W. Parker and Son, 1860), p. 220 n. 1]. Two contributors to Essays are indicted for heresy and lose their jobs, but are reinstated later. Published four months after Darwinʼs On the Origin of Species, more copies of Essays are sold in two years than of Darwinʼs Origin in its first twenty.

The Bibleʼs Geocentrism

For most of recorded history people imagined that their feet were planted on firm ground, terra firma. The view presented in the Bible is no exception. The Bible depicts the earth as the firm, immovable, “foundation” of creation:

Thou, Lord, in the beginning didst lay the foundation of the earth.–Hebrews 1:10

The sun, moon, and stars were created after the “foundation of the earth” was laid. (Gen. 1:9-18)

Who hath established all the ends of the earth?–Proverbs 30:4

He established the earth upon its foundations, so that it will not totter, forever and ever.–Psalm 104:5

The world is firmly established, it will not be moved.–Psalm 93:1 & 1 Chronicles 16:30

Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?…Who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? Or who laid the corner stone thereof?–Job 38:4-6

For the pillars of the earth are the Lordʼs, and he set the world on them.–Samuel 2:8

It is I who have firmly set its pillars.–Psalm 75:3

Who stretched out the heavens… and established the world.–Jeremiah 10:12

The only time the Bible depicts the earth as moving is during an earthquake:

The earth quaked, the foundations of heaven were trembling.–2 Samuel 22:8

The earth quakes, the heavens tremble.–Joel 2:10

I shall make the heavens tremble, and the earth will be shaken from its place.–Isaiah 13:13

There was a great earthquake…and the stars of the sky fell…as if shaken from a tree.–Rev. 6:12,13

Though the Fathers of Protestantism (Luther and Calvin) agreed with the Catholic Church of their day that the earth was a sphere, neither Protestant nor Catholic theologians could see a way to avoid the Bibleʼs teaching that the earth does not move. The verses regarding that matter appeared crystal clear to major religious leaders. They also agreed that the Bible teaches that the sun and stars move round the earth.

For instance the Bible says, “He can command the sun not to rise” (Job 9:7), rather than, “He can command the earth to stop moving.” That God would direct His command at the sun rather than the earth, implied a geocentric perspective.

Likewise, Martin Luther pointed out that when the book of Joshua discussed the miracle of “Joshuaʼs long day,” that day was lengthened because “Joshua commanded the sun to stand still and not the earth.” (Joshua 10:12) Speaking of the sunʼs movement, the Bible also states: “The sun rises and the sun sets, and hastening to its place it rises there again.” (Eccles. 1:5, NASB) The mere mention of “rising” and “setting” might be disregarded as being due to oneʼs earth-bound perspective, but speaking of the sun “hastening to its place” so that it may “rise there again,” is not so easy to explain away. It means the author of Ecclesiastes believed that the sun moved daily around the earth. Compare Psalm 19:4-6, “In [the heavens] He has placed a tent for the sun, which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber; it rejoices like a strong man to run its course, its rising from one end of the heavens, and its circuit to the other end of them.”

As for the stars, the Bible teaches that they too move across the sky: “From their courses they fought against Sisera.” (Judges 5:20, NASB) “The One who leads forth their host by number…Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power not one [star] is missing.” (Isaiah 40:26, NASB)

Even whole constellations of stars are “led forth” in their season: “Can you lead forth a constellation in its season, And guide the Bear with her satellites? Do you know the ordinances of the heavens, Or fix their rule over the earth?” (Job 38:31-33, NASB)

Modern astronomy teaches the reverse all of the verses above, namely that the earth “hastens to” spin and run its “course” each day; it is the earth that God would have to “command” not to move, and that Joshua should have commanded to “stand still,” and, the earth that God would have to “lead forth,” and “guide” in “its season;” and, the earthʼs “ordinances” not those of the constellations above it, that must be “fixed” in order for the constellations to appear to move as they do across the earthʼs sky.

But some Christians still side with the Bible over modern astronomy, like Dr. Gerardus Bouw, who rejects that the earth goes round the sun. He believes the reverse is true, based first and foremost on the Bible verses mentioned above. In fact, he is the president of the “Society of Biblical Astronomy” and he wonders how any Christians who say they believe the Bible “cover to cover” can ignore the Bibleʼs view of the earthʼs immobility and the daily (and seasonal) movement of the sun, stars and constellations, especially when the Bible adds that God is doing the moving (and commanding the halting) of the sun and stars. Is God a liar? Does the Bible depict God “commanding” and “leading forth” things that donʼt really move? Dr. Bouw believes the Bible means what it says. Besides, when God is depicted as moving the sun and stars (daily and seasonally), or stopping the sun (miraculously), or shaking an immovable earth (creating an earthquake), such actions are demonstrations of Godʼs “might.” They are either that, or “mighty deceptive” language for God to have “inspired.” Like telling people who start their cars and step on the gas that, “God leads forth the trees which speed by on the roadside… Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power not one is missing!” (cf. Isaiah 40:26). Therefore Bouw remains a geocentrist, just as the Good Book says he should.

Quotations Related to a Holy Heaven Lying Directly Above the Earth

We know that anyone who wants to go to God and the precincts of the Blessed is taking a needless detour if he thinks this means he has to soar into the upper levels of the air. Surely Jesus would not have taken such a superfluous journey, nor would God have made him take it. Thus, one would have to assume something like a divine accommodation to the world-picture people had back then, and say: In order to convince the disciples of Jesusʼs return to the higher world, even though in fact that world was by no means to be sought in the upper atmosphere, God nevertheless staged the spectacle of Jesusʼs elevation. But this would be turning God into a sleight-of-hand artist.

David Friedrich Strauss, Das Leben Jesu, 1837

The ascension story, as Luke tells it in the Book of Acts, assumes that Jesus rises in order to enter heavenʼs door in the sky to be enthroned at the right hand of God. But in a space age, rising from this earth into the sky does not result in achieving heaven. It might only result in achieving orbit. Luke did not comprehend the vastness of space. No one in his day did. He could not have imagined space travel. If Jesus ascended physically into the sky and rose as rapidly as the speed of light, he would not yet have reached the edges of our own galaxy. [And our galaxy is merely one of over 100 billion.—]

John Shelby Spong, Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism

It was the common belief among the Jews that the Messiah would transcend the greatest of the patriarchs and prophets; and if Enoch was translated, and Elijah went up in a fiery chariot, it was only natural that the Messiah should ascend to heaven.

G. W. Foote, Bible Romances, No. 14, The Resurrection, 1880

The ascension of Jesus into cloudy concealment seems to have been modeled directly upon Josephusʼ [first century] telling of the story of the ascension of Moses before the forlorn eyes of his disciples.

Robert M. Price, “Of Myth and Men: A Closer Look At the Originators of the Major Religions—What Did They Really Say and Do?” Free Inquiry, Winter 1999/2000

There were ascents into heaven made long before and quite apart from Jesus. The Roman historian Livy, described the ascension of Romulus, the founder of the city of Rome, who came to be venerated as a god: One day Romulus held an assembly of the people before the city walls to review the army. Suddenly a thunderstorm broke out, wrapping the king in a thick cloud. When the cloud lifted, Romulus was no longer on earth. He had gone up into heaven.

Stories of ascensions were told in antiquity about other famous men, for example, Heracles, Empedocles, Alexander the Great, and Apollonius of Tyana. Characteristically the scene is set with spectators and witnesses, before whose eyes the person in question disappears. Often he is borne aloft by a cloud or shrouded in darkness that takes him from the eyes of the people. Not infrequently the whole business takes place on a mountain or hill. (Gerhard Lohfink, Die Himmelfahrt Jesu)

From this standpoint, Jesusʼs Ascension was nothing out of the ordinary. Jesus too, disembarked from a mountain, the Mount of Olives, for heaven. The point is that from a mountain itʼs not quite as far to heaven.

Uta Ranke-Heinemann, Putting Away Childish Things

Millions of Muslims believe Mohammed “ascended into the sky” riding a horse. Makes me wonder whether Mohammed caught up to Jesus and galloped past? Or, being the gracious prophet that he was, gave Jesus a lift?

According to the Christian Bible, Jesusʼ ultimate moment of triumph, his big exit, his grand finale, when he rose “into the clouds” to be seated at the right hand of God, was witnessed by only a handful of people, all of them, “disciples.”

See also some posts on the ancient view of hellʼs location, such as this entry.

The Famous Thomas More / William Tyndale Polemic. They debated each other for 2000 pages. Both were also executed. Harsh words, harsh times.

Thomas More

An excellent paper concerning The Thomas More / William Tyndale Polemic is now online. This famous debate between a prominent Catholic and Protestant totaled 2000 pages and covered a host of issues on which Catholics and Protestants remain divided even today. An edited version of the introduction to the paper is below. One can see More and Tyndale employing arguments against each other that an agnostic or atheistic scholar might apply against both today.

Also see my blog entry, Tertullianʼs Paradox; Insufficiency of both Reason & Scripture, that highlights the way Catholic scholars employ modern critical biblical scholarship to dispute the Protestant claim that the Bible interprets itself, never contradicts itself, and speaks so plainly and uniformly such that all religious authority lay in the Bible alone (Sola Scriptura). Meanwhile Protestants employ modern critical investigative techniques to dispute Catholic claims that religious authority lay in a visible church that has survived for 2000 years and been preserved from error via Godʼs revelatory care and whose truth is made visible via countless tales of “miracles.” After such scholarly investigations on the part of both Catholics and Protestant one may note that neither:

  1. Protestant claims of “Sola Scriptura,” nor,

  2. Catholic claims of special revelations and miracles, appear highly convincing. They have in effect debunked each other to death and continue to do so today, both using modern techniques of study.

And see The Famous Burgh-Spinoza Exchange, another famous exchange, this time between Spinoza, the first man to have a book published that questioned the divine inspiration of the Bible, and one of his former students who converted to Catholicism.

Besides the finer points of the debate between More and Tyndale that one can read below, More also mentioned that when Lutheran soldiers in Italy took Rome (as forces of the Holy Roman Empire) they committed all kinds of horrors, hanging men by their “privy members,” raping women, roasting children on spits. The full passage from More starts on page 97 of the online manuscript and is reproduced directly below:

Of this [Lutheran] sect was the great part of those ungracious people also, which late entered into Rome with the duke of Bourbon, not only robbing and spoiling the city as well their own friends as the contrary part, but like very beasts did also violate the wives in the sight of their husbands, slew the children in the sight of the fathers. And to extort the discovering of more money, when men had brought out all that ever they had to save themselves from death or further pain, and were at pacts and promises of rest without further business, then the wretched tyrants and cruel tormenters, as though all that stood for nothing, ceased not to put them eftsoons to intolerable torments. And old ancient honourable men, those fierce heretics letted [=obstructed] not to hang up by the privy members [=penises], and from many they pulled them off and cast them in the street. And some brought out naked with his hands bounden behind him, and a cord tied fast unto his privy members. Then would they set before him in his way other of those tyrants with their Moorish pikes the points toward the breasts of these poor naked men. And then one or two of those wretches would stand behind those Moorish pikes, and draw the poor souls by the members toward them. Now then was all their cruel sport and laughter either to see the silly naked men in shrinking from the pikes to tear off their members. Or for pain of that pulling to run their naked bodies in deep upon the pikes. Too piteous and too abominable were it to rehearse the villainous pain and torments that they devised on the silly women, to whom, after that they had beastly abused them, wives in the sight of their husbands, and the maidens in the sight of their fathers, they were reckoned for piteous that did no more but cut their throats. And very certain is it, that not in Rome only, but also in the country of Milan that they kept and oppressed, after torments used and money fet out that way, than some calling himself a gentleman in Almain or Spain, would fain himself fallen in love of his hostʼs daughter, and that he would marry her in any wise, and then make [S6v] much earnest business for to have some money with her. And whether he gat aught or gat naught by that device, he letted not soon after to put the father, the mother, the fair daughter and all the whole house to new torments, to make them tell where any more money were, were there any or none. And some failed not to take the child and bind it to a broche, and lay it to the fire to roast, the father and mother looking on. And then begin to common of a price for the sparing of the child, asking first an hundred ducats, then fifty, then forty, then twenty, then ten, then five, then twain, when the silly father had not one left, but these tyrants had all before. Then would they let the child roast to death. And yet in derision as though they pitied the child they would say to the father and the mother, Ah, fie, fie for shame what marvel is it though God send a vengeance among you. What unnatural people be you that can find in your hearts to see your own child roasted afore your face, rather than ye would out with one ducat to deliver it from death.

Thus devised these cursed wretches so many diverse fashions of exquisite cruelties, that I ween they have taught the devil new torments in hell, that he never knew before, and will not fail to prove himself a good scholar, and surely render them his lesson when they come there, where it is to be feared that many of them be by this. For soon after that they had in Rome exercised a while this fierce and cruel tyranny, and entered into the holy churches, spoiled the holy relics, cast out the blessed sacrament, pulled the chalice from the altar at mass, slain priests in the church, left no kind of cruelty or spite undone, but from hour to hour imbruing their hands in blood, and that in such wise as any Turk or Saracen would have pitied or abhorred, our lord sent soon after such a pestilence among them that he left not of them the third part alive. For this purpose I rehearse you this their heavy mischievous dealing, that ye may perceive by their deeds, what good cometh of their sect. For as our saviour saith ye shall know the tree by the fruit.

Now for the Introduction to The Thomas More / William Tyndale Polemic: A Selection by Matthew DeCoursey, Hong Kong Institute of Education (Most of the work for this edition was done during the term of a postdoctoral fellowship from the Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada, spent at the Catholic University of America and the Folger Shakespeare Library.)


From the beginning of the Reformation in 1517, philology was a crucial element of Protestant thought. Sola scriptura, “the scripture alone” was a Reformation slogan, and the nature of that scripture was defined in philological terms. Luther used Erasmusʼs edition of the Greek New Testament with a revised Latin translation in an effort to reach the sources of biblical thought. When Luther understood the original languages well enough, he translated the text into German for the common reader. William Tyndale followed his example in English, laying the foundations for most of our King James Version. These new translations were arguably consistent with the original languages, but certainly inconsistent with the Latin Vulgate, the Bible of the Roman church. This break with the past was controversial because it implied a discontinuity in the church, a separation between the church and God. It breached a vision of the church as a unified consensus of the faithful existing continuously since the time of Christ, a vision that motivated More to write the polemical texts excerpted in this book. Each of the two could discredit the other on his own terms: Tyndale argued that mistranslations of particular words in the Bible had created an illusion that the Bible supported the visible church and its hierarchy; More argued that no one in an imperfect world can reason so well as to justify opposition to a visibly sacred church.

For us today, the content of the debate is of more than usual interest. The Reformation in general, of course, changed the course of European and ultimately global history. Nor did these two men merely repeat the conventional arguments made for and against Luther on the Continent. More was a writer of great stature in 1529: at a time when fewer than ten books a year were published either in English, or in Latin by Englishmen, More had published six, all but one in Latin.1 Tyndale would ultimately affect the course of the English language through his deep influence on subsequent English versions of the Bible. They wrote these works in the shadow of violence: besides the threat of execution, the Peasantsʼ War had already taken place, and the relation between theology and violence was an important issue here, as we shall see. Through their stature with their respective religious communities, both of these two writers would be reprinted frequently in future centuries.

Thomas Moreʼs Execution

The importance of this exchange has been recognized by historians and literary historians for many years, but it has never received the scholarly attention its significance would justify. The main reason for this is simply that it is tremendously long, at almost 2,000 pages, and the parts are not all of equal interest. Specialists in Thomas More or William Tyndale work on their author for decades or entire careers without reading the controversy all the way through. Even when one does read these works, it is difficult to keep track of the flow and exchange of ideas because of the enormous bulk of the material and the forbidding hostility of some of the exchange: the two authors accuse each other of “railing,” and each is right about parts of the otherʼs work. Moreʼs writings in particular have attracted negative comment even from those who specialize in them. Timothy DʼAlton writes that the Dialogue is a “long, often tedious work” (52), and Richard Marius writes that the Confutation of Tyndaleʼs Answer is an interminable desert, stretching to a hellish horizon under the untempered sun, and we find burning on every page a monotonous fury that deadens the soul. (p. 425)

Anne OʼDonnell and Jared Wicks wonder whether the Confutation “has ever had more than a dozen readers in any generation” (xxvii). These are typical responses among those few who have read this massive work, but the strength of repulsion masks the virtues of Moreʼs accomplishment: it is in the Confutation that More offers his most cogent criticisms of the Protestant program. Tyndaleʼs writings were of necessity more concise—they were smuggled, after all—but much of what is in them is responsive. A nuanced understanding of what Tyndale has to say is dependent on a reading of More.

The goal of this edition is to bring the major points of the controversy within the reach of both students and specialists. Through this book, readers can gain an understanding of the relations between the two writersʼ ideas, and the ways in which they tried to respond to each other. . . . Those who wish to go further in the study of this fascinating conflict may refer to the full, original-spelling editions of the works, Moreʼs from Yale University Press (now complete) and Tyndaleʼs from Catholic University of America Press (in progress).

William Tyndaleʼs Execution

Both sides of this controversy can be viewed as responses to Martin Luther.

More was involved in refuting Luther from the beginning. He participated in the production of Henryʼs Assertio septem sacramentorum (Marius, Thomas More, 278). By his own account, he had an editorial role, but he may have been responsible for more, given the obvious wisdom of ceding credit to kings. He went on from there to write a Responsio ad Lutherum (Response to Luther, 1523) and an extended letter to Johann Bugenhagen (1526 or 27), also in Latin, which last was not published until much later. In March, 1528, Cuthbert Tunstall, Bishop of London, wrote a letter authorizing More to read heretical books in order to refute them in English. Tyndaleʼs Obedience must have come into Moreʼs hands later the same year. The Dialogue appeared in 1529, and More became Lord Chancellor in October of the same year.

Like many other Lutherans, Tyndale was first a Catholic humanist before he took up the cause of the Reformation. The little evidence we have about his life before he began to publish all refers to Erasmus and not Luther.

The earliest salvo in the controversy between the two was Tyndaleʼs Obedience of a Christian Man. For the most part, Tyndaleʼs Obedience deals with the most urgent aspect of this disagreement: the relation of the new doctrine to political rebellion. The treatise is primarily an effort to construct a view of political authority on biblical terms. Tyndale argues from his philological understanding of the Greek and Hebrew Bible that scripture does not support the existence of a church hierarchy, let alone mandate obedience to it; but it does support the authority of kings (Obedience D5r-E2r). Part of the purpose of the treatise is to counter the accusation against Lutherans that their doctrine is destructive of all authority. Catholic polemicists had maintained that Lutherʼs denial of ecclesiastical hierarchy would lead to the downfall of all hierarchy, and the Peasantsʼ War had greatly strengthened their position. In the passages included here, Tyndale asserted that it was the church hierarchy that encouraged disobedience to kings, by refusing them full sovereignty over their clerical subjects and maintaining a separate kingdom (66-7 infra) Like Luther, Tyndale condemned rebellion against established rulers, but he argued that those who were newly aware of the crimes perpetrated against them were not so much to be blamed if they thought it legitimate to wield a sword in Godʼs name. He told of James and John, who wished that fire should come from heaven to consume the Samaritans, and were rebuked by Christ. “If Christʼs disciples were so long carnal what wonder is it, if we be not all perfect the first day?” Tyndale even blames the [Catholic] church itself for the violence of the rebels, since it had encouraged “bloody imaginations” of violence against heretics, Turks and Jews, and that this bloodiness was now almost justly turning on its authors (p. 66 infra).

We can also perceive in this treatise Tyndaleʼs fondness for typology, and its polemical use to support the Lutheran cause. In the first pages, Tyndale presents the situation of Protestants as identical with that of Christ and his disciples in the time of the Gospels. In so far as Tyndale and his followers were rebellious, they were, Tyndale implies, neither more nor less so than was Christ when he was on earth. The [Catholic] church authorities were behaving like the scribes and pharisees of the stories, collaborating in the deaths of martyrs as the Jewish religious authorities collaborated in the death of Christ. He presents the scribes and pharisees as plotting to deceive the people and Christ as revealing the genuine truth of the Hebrew scripture. In the Obedience, Tyndale offers a quotation that would resonate throughout the controversy:

“By their fruits ye shall know them.”

For Tyndale, that meant that believers should examine the lives of flesh-and-blood clerics among them, and ask themselves whether this life was the result of a true and pure faith in God, or of a “belly wisdom” that taught them how to satisfy their bodily hungers by deceiving the people.

Anticipating the charge of lust against Luther and others who married despite previous religious vows, he [Tyndale] presented priests as taking any number of prostitutes, but hypocritically remaining unmarried (125 infra). In the Prologue (reprinted here) and elsewhere, priests appear as warmongers, creating wars between princes to preserve their own power (66-7 infra). He ironically lists the many rituals of the church, suggesting that their main point is to raise money for priests. He asks why the Mass is in Latin, and replies that it is to keep the people mystified by revealing nothing, and charging money, too, for a ceremony that almost none of the flock could understand (115 infra). By this means, the clergy succeeded in cheating the people at once of their worldly goods and of their salvation.

Moreʼs Dialogue Concerning Heresies Answers the Obedience with Four Kinds of Arguments.

One group of arguments disputes Protestant characterization of church corruption, arguing in effect that Protestant assertions about the “fruits” of clerical sin carried the force only of rumour. More argued that while corruption existed, as it must exist in any human entity, there was no firm evidence that the church was integrally corrupt. To show that the orthodox had always known of such frauds, More told the story of Duke Humphrey exposing a false miracle. More is sure that God will not allow his church to accept anything fraudulent for long, so if a story is old, its age is evidence of truth.

Subordinate to this point, but argued at great length, is a discussion of the nature of evidence. Through a series of thought-experiments, More asks what justifies the fixation of belief. For example, he suggests that a “black” man in India might hear of the existence of white people. Would he believe it? By such illustrations, More builds up a skepticism about the possibility of knowing anything, especially by the reading of texts, and concludes from this skepticism that the only thing to do is accept the authority of the Holy Church, which alone can know certainly. The legitimacy and continued occurrence of miracles is for him a crucial point: God blesses the established church by granting miracles at shrines and on pilgrimages, but no such blessing comes to the Lutherans. This kind of argument takes up much of Books I and II.

Secondly, More argues in Book III against Tyndaleʼs translations of key terms [in the Bible].

Thirdly, he [More] challenges the rationality of Tyndaleʼs trust in sola scriptura, “the scripture alone.” Moreʼs position is that the only way he or Tyndale can know that the scripture is the scripture is from the authority of the church, and that the church therefore has logical precedence. It has the authority to interpret the Bible just has it has the authority to say what the Bible is. He repeatedly quotes Matthew 28:20, “Lo, I am with you all the days to the worldʼs end,” to show that Jesus is still guiding the church.

Finally, More presented a vision of the origin and fate of heresy which served to underpin a negative view of Protestant character, supplying a motivation for the irrationality of Protestant claims. He deals with [the character of] such Englishmen accused of heresy as Richard Hunne and Thomas Bilney, but the model case is that of Luther. More presented Luther as a man of irrational pride, who received a license to sell indulgences from the pope and saw it taken away again. He “fell to railing” against “all pardons,” contradicting himself at every turn. In spite of his irrationality, Lutherʼs ravings were persuasive. The people quickly realized that Lutherʼs heresies freed them from the normal obligations and duties of civilized society, and forgot that the social disorder resulting from this indiscipline would hurt them. Lords found it advantageous to use Lutherʼs ideas as an excuse to seize church lands, and so the heresy grew. The doctrine of predestination was part of this devilish mix, and led the Lutheran soldiers in Italy to believe that they were not responsible for their own actions, but might impute any sin to God. When they took Rome, then, as forces of the Holy Roman Empire, they committed all kinds of horrors, some of which More describes: old men are hung up by their “privy members,” women raped, and children roasted on spits.

Tyndaleʼs Answer to Sir Thomas Moreʼs Dialogue stresses the importance of philology, setting out detailed arguments for each of his translations. Besides that technical argument, his introduction presents a vision of the philological man as spiritual, since the one who genuinely accepts and loves Godʼs law never stops studying it, to see what it really is, what it means. He says the spiritual man
never leaveth searching till he come at the bottom, the pith, the quick, the marrow and very cause why, and judgeth all thing. (p. 112 infra)

Tyndale takes a phrase from More to represent the opposite tendency: More had written that we must “captive and subdue our understanding to serve and follow faith.” In the introduction and throughout the book, Tyndale returns to this phrase in order to present More as wilfully brainless, ready to accept the most illogical rule, as long as authority enjoins it. Later in the treatise, Tyndale further develops the process by which he believed church ceremonies first came about, and then were emptied of their meaning.

Execution of William Tyndale using Strangulation and Burned for Heretical Act of Translation of Bible

It is also in the Answer that Tyndale develops the very characteristic notion of “feeling faith,” which he had adapted from Melancthon. More had criticized Lutheran adherence to “faith alone,” saying that it is very easy to believe in the words of the Gospel, but this would not prevent people from committing crimes.13 Tyndale answers that he is not referring to intellectual assent, as More seems to think, but rather to the powerful conviction that comes of true experience (141 infra). Intellect and emotion, then, relate differently for our two authors:

Tyndale sees the development of understanding as intellectual, but the results of developing faith as emotional. That is, one arrives at faith through intellect (combined with the grace of God), but the proof of true faith is in emotional conviction. For More, faith is a simpler matter of trust, and intellect enters into the question thereafter. He values emotional conviction, but it is not a consequence of faith as it is for Tyndale. He depicts the faithful Christian developing emotion in faith by the contemplation of images, by a process of self-persuasion, as Erasmus had recommended.

This tension between views of emotion and faith is congruent on each side of the debate with views of philology. For Tyndale, if a reader is first intellectual, philological analysis is a natural way of arriving at the truth of a textʼs meaning, and it is after the “spiritual man”ʼs analysis that “feeling faith” emerges. Moreʼs trust in the visible church means that the common believer should first of all trust the teachings of the church, as they come down from the larger church through the parish priest. For More, independent philological analysis of the biblical text must take place with the guidance of the church. More had believed in philology, but only as a way of reinforcing the unity between the Bible and the church: to use philology to split the church is to miss the heart of the matter.

It is only in the last treatise, the Confutation of Tyndaleʼs Answer, that More comes to the strongest part of his case against Tyndale, in the impracticality of Tyndaleʼs vision for ordinary people. They cannot be the “spiritual man” demanded by the reformer, as they have lives to live, and may not be very educated anyway. More creates a fictional dialogue between two ordinary women and Tyndaleʼs fellow reformer Robert Barnes. They ask him a series of questions about the significance of his program for them. Since they are not learned people, and since they cannot spend all their time scrutinizing the Scripture, how are they to know truth from falsehood?

At the outset, the first woman claims to trust Barnes, but wants to know how she is to stay on the right path once he is gone. The second woman, who is illiterate, is more hostile. The standard Protestant answer to their question, which Barnes gives, would be that a good preacher will give them doctrine that is consistent with the scripture. In the Obedience, as we have seen, Tyndale had recommended a program of teaching to enable them to make good judgements. Moreʼs women point out that this will not do—and here Moreʼs understanding of language comes into play in a way that conflicts strongly with Tyndaleʼs. More does not believe that certain knowledge can arise from a text, analyzed by philological means or not. His women are not only the unlearned, but all humanity. At the same time, the inferiority of their femaleness serves to disgrace Protestants: even women can confute the reformers. [A rhetorical ploy that J. P. Holding likes to use today by employing a female bunny character or a female theologian character as seen in one of his videos. — E.T.B.]

Looking globally at the arguments and responses here, it is noticeable that this is not a dialogue of the deaf. The two men understand the nature of each otherʼs arguments very well. Nor is this surprising, for both were Erasmians.

Tyndale went beyond Erasmus . . . For Erasmus, the elements of corruption and superstition were parasitic upon the true religion inherent in the church; for Tyndale, they were symptoms of a rot that went to the core.

Both differ from Erasmus in being very much concerned with political reality and the stability of society. They owed this concern to the earlier history of the debates—for Lutherʼs critics had forced a concern with social stability onto him—and to the concrete history of events. Lutherʼs critics had claimed that his attack on the authority of the church hierarchy would lead to the erosion of all authority and ultimately to anarchy. They claimed victory on the point, not unreasonably, when the Peasantsʼ War broke out in 1524 (Bagchi, 108). Tyndale arrived in Germany the same year, so he must have been there and either seen its effects, or heard of them at close quarters. It was Tyndale, then, who brought up the question of social stability, holding that social order should be determined by the Bible.

More responded with his own version of proper authority, what it should govern, and who should hold it. He believed that the established and visible church was the expression of Godʼs truth in the world, and held legitimate sway over the lives of humanity. He viewed the position of the pope as divinely instituted, and the popeʼs pronouncements as harmonious at once with the Bible and with the “consensus of all the faithful” as expressed in General Councils of the western church. (This is not to say that he believed in the infallibility of the pope, which was not received doctrine at the time.) Militating in Moreʼs favour on this matter was the great longevity of the papacy. The original pope was said to have been St. Peter, invested to his position by Jesus Christ in the words, “Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (Matthew 16:18). Even if one insisted on hard historical evidence, the papacy was still at least a thousand years old, and such durability seemed to imply a divine blessing. More than the pope, however, what mattered to More was the sense of unity, of a continuous tradition of belief through the centuries.

In the course of writing against Protestants, More found it increasingly important to develop the ways in which God communicates truth to his church. . . . God spoke to the world in the words of Christ, as written in the Bible and as preserved in church tradition, but also in “secret inspiration,” as Simon Peter knew without being told that Jesus was the son of God. Jesus replied to Peter, “Thou art blessed, Simon the son of John, for neither flesh nor blood hath revealed and showed this to thee, but my father that is in heaven” (Mt 16: 5-7 translation Moreʼs, modernized, CWM 6:143). More argued that this same secret inspiration had shown itself in the church throughout its history. That is why the practices of the church are to be viewed as inspired, even if there is no biblical basis for them, since Godʼs people have been moved to a practice by inner inspiration. This is how he accounts, for example, for the churchʼs practice of adding water to wine during the Eucharist. Similarly, doctrine develops not by reason alone, as Tyndale seemed to imply in his rational figure of the “spiritual man,” but by reason under the guidance of the Spirit. Certainly, a false prophet may emerge at any time, falsely claiming to have divine guidance, but for More the question was resolved in the consensus omnium fidelium, the consensus of all the faithful. All those whose hearts are open to divine inspiration are in time brought to agree, and the heretical branches of the church, deprived of the divine sap, eventually die as old heresies like Arianism had died. That is why More frequently presents lists of saints who he says agreed with the point that More is making at the time (109 and others infra), and why in the Confutation he presents a vision of the church assembled on Salisbury Plain, unanimous in its condemnation of Luther, Tyndale and the other Protestants (188ff. infra).

More [also] exploits an important weakness of the Protestant position: if the church is invisible, how can anyone know what church to follow? More has an answer for this question, and a huge body of texts to refer to, while the sincere questioner tending toward the Lutheran position is left making a complex judgement that might escape doctors of the Sorbonne: which preacher is most rational and most faithful to Scripture?

To Tyndale, the hierarchy of the church from the papacy to the parish priest was a thoroughly human institution, dedicated to perpetuating its own prestige, power, and wealth. A good deal of space in his polemical writings was taken up with the effort to present familiar elements of religious life as parts of a large plot to prevent Christians from understanding that they are being cheated at once of their religious inheritance and of their worldly goods. He asked why the Mass was in Latin, and answered that the papacy believed in the need to keep the people ignorant and unquestioning. He tried to defamiliarize the Mass by speaking of “mumming”: it was a theatrical presentation intended not to communicate, but to keep the people fascinated by revealing nothing (Obedience O1r-v). He noted the peopleʼs belief that presence at mass brings luck and personal security. Like Erasmus, he denounced far-fetched allegorical interpretation; unlike him, he consistently presented allegory as a conscious means of ensuring that the people did not understand. It seemed significant to Tyndale that the Bible passages supporting the power of the popes had to be read allegorically in order to carry this meaning. (Obedience H7r).

For Tyndale, the hope of genuine Christians in the face of this plotting lay in the persistence of Godʼs truth embedded in the institutional fabric of the Catholic church. The church was constantly plotting against religion, but God had not allowed his scriptures to be entirely changed and lost, but only wickedly interpreted and presented with significant flaws. In Tyndaleʼs view, even the ceremonies of the Roman church carried elements of symbolism which came down from a less corrupt time, and which could be used to recover the truth of Christianity (129-30 infra).

It is for this reason that philology was a central concern for Tyndale. What is now called philology is a set of techniques developed by the Renaissance humanists for the understanding of classical texts. Sometimes the words on the page had been corrupted in transmission, but might be reconstructed by the comparison of texts and close reasoning. Sometimes the words had been correctly transmitted, but had been misunderstood because language change had not been properly taken into account: a word in a particular text might be understood as carrying a meaning that had arisen long after the text had been written. Martin Luther had applied such techniques to the interpretation of the Bible: for instance, he used Johannes Reuchlinʼs comments on the Hebrew word sadaq to inform his thought on the key concept of justification (Cummings 66-7).20

When More came to criticize Tyndaleʼs New Testament, he focused his attack on six glosses. Tyndale rendered ekklesia as “congregation” rather than “church”; presbyteros as “elder” rather than “priest”; agape as “love” rather than “charity”; charis as “favour” rather than “grace”; homologia as “knowledging” rather than “confession”; metanoia as “repentance” or “forethinking” rather than “penance.” In each case, Erasmus had raised questions in his commentaries, pointing out that the Vulgate translations were problematic, as they did not match known pre-Christian usage. Erasmus had pointed out the problems, but had reaffirmed his commitment to the unified and universal church. Tyndale, consistently with what we have seen, regarded these translations as showing a plot to prevent the people from perceiving that the visible church had not support in scripture.

In three cases out of six, these terms had direct consequences for the nature of the priesthood.

When we combine these changes in translation with Tyndaleʼs denial that the office of the Pope is referred to in the Bible, the result is a Bible that offers no support for hierarchical church government, and has no priests in the conventional sense.

In the Confutation, More makes a much more serious effort to respond to Tyndaleʼs philological points than he had done in the Dialogue. As with the passage of the women and Barnes, the philological argument in the Confutation is better than anything along the same lines he had previously written. Yet the passages are so long and the expression so obscure that it proved impossible to include any meaningful extract of the argument in this book. 21

In the Confutation, More recognizes the problems raised by philological scholarship. More veers between mocking Tyndale on tendentious grounds and raising serious questions about philological method.

The power of philology and translation to affect oneʼs basic understanding of religion and politics made these, in Moreʼs view, dangerous things to give individuals. More distrusted the goodwill, virtue and intelligence of the ordinary citizen, and consequently, he tended to authoritarian ideas on public morality. In the Utopia, published before Lutherʼs name was known, More had made his Utopians prescribe severe penalties for fornication, saying that no one would ever get married if pleasure were available freely.22 His History of King Richard III, even earlier, had presented the mass of humanity as gullible and prone to wrong judgments in political matters. So in the Dialogue Concerning Heresies, More favours the translation of the Bible into English, but suggests that bishops should keep a tight control over all copies of the translations. Some people, More thinks, should see only a few of the safer parts of the Bible, and the truly foolish and rash should not see any of it. Only a few of the wisest might be trusted with the whole book. In Moreʼs view, it would have been far better if Luther had remained ignorant, unable to use the Bible to support his own pride, ambition and especially lust.

Tyndale, in contrast, had a belief in the capacity of the ordinary Christian which might well seem excessive today. In a passage of the Obedience included here, he asks that the clergy should teach Christians not only the biblical text, but also I would have you to teach them also the properties and manner of speakings of the scripture, and how to expound proverbs and similitudes. And then if they go abroad and walk by the fields and meadows of all manner doctors and philosophers they could catch no harm. (58 infra)

Perhaps there are few Protestant members of clergy—today, or ever—who could confidently say that their flocks understand Hebrew and Greek idiom, and the problems of interpreting idiom in translation. Philological competence is a key issue.

There are dangers in editing these texts, because the issues they discuss are still alive. Protestants may object that More has more pages in this book, or Catholics that I have not included the best of Moreʼs arguments. Any selection is contentious, and I have included less than ten percent of the total. I hope that this selection will give access to an important exchange to many who would not have read the nearly 2000 pages of the original.

End of the Introduction. See the full paper online.