Examining even more Parallels Between Jesus and Dionysus: Looking at Archetypal Literary Criticism, The Raglan Scale, Mythemes, and the Hero archetype

In literary criticism there is an entire field of study devoted to archetypal literary criticism. This branch of study focuses on the parallels between the various myths, pointing out such things as common mythemes and things like the hero archetype which are present in many of the ancient stories of myth and religion.

Usually, when introducing people to this subject matter for the first time, I like to mention the Raglan scale as a good starting place when discussing the subject of comparative myth and legend and historical figures.

The Raglan scale lists 22 basic traits that most mythical and legendary figures typically share. If a figure from antiquity shares many of the traits with other well known myths, then they are more likely to be legendary in nature. Likewise, if they share relatively few of the traits then they are probably more or less historical.

The Raglan scale follows as such:

1. Hero's mother is a royal virgin;

2. His father is a king, and

3. Often a near relative of his mother, but

4. The circumstances of his conception are unusual, and

5. He is also reputed to be the son of a god.

6. At birth an attempt is made, usually by his father or his maternal grand father to kill him, but

7. He is spirited away, and

8. Reared by foster -parents in a far country.

9. We are told nothing of his childhood, but

10. On reaching manhood he returns or goes to his future Kingdom.

11. After a victory over the king and/or a giant, dragon, or wild beast,

12. He marries a princess, often the daughter of his predecessor and

13. And becomes king.

14. For a time he reigns uneventfully and

15. Prescribes laws, but

16. Later he loses favor with the gods and/or his subjects, and

17. Is driven from the throne and city, after which

18. He meets with a mysterious death,

19. Often at the top of a hill,

20. His children, if any do not succeed him.

21. His body is not buried, but nevertheless

22. He has one or more holy sepulchres.

Now this scale is just a good gauge to use when determining if a figure of antiquity is more or less likely to be a historical figure or if it seems they may have been impregnated with some myth and legend. Many historical figures, such as Pythagoras and Alexander the Great (just to name a couple), have been highly mythologized and turned into enduring legends. The Raglan scale itself, however, doesn't prove any direct correlation between the corresponding myths exactly, since depending on translations, and writing styles, similarities can change in terms of accuracy and consistency. But, I find, it is a good list to help learn as one sets to the task of recognizing potential literary influences and storytelling archetypes found in our literary traditions, both past and present. Simply put, it's a useful tool for highlighting what may turn out to be more than just a coincidence.

At the same time, if we should discover that there is a direct correlation between two figures, or two literary works, then that would be extremely interesting. Take for example the story of Moses and Superman. These two figures, although entirely different, arising in different cultures and different time periods, share some surprising yet undeniable correlations.

The fact is, the parallels between the biblical Moses and Superman are there because Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster modeled Superman, in part, on the biblical patriarch Moses. That is to say, Moses is an archetypal model for Superman.

Superman biographer Larry Tye, for example, suggests in his book Superman: The High-Flying History of America's Most Enduring Hero, that Superman's Kryptonian name, "Kal-El," resembles the Hebrew words קל-אל, which can be taken to mean "voice of God." The suffix "el," meaning "(of) God," is also found in the name of angels (e.g. Gabriel and Ariel), who are human looking agents of good with superhuman powers and can fly. Tye suggests that this "Voice of God" is an allusion to Moses' role as a prophet of God, literally the man who brings God's word down from Mt. Sinai to his people. (pp. 65-67)

Moreover, those familiar the the origin story of Moses will recognize that, like Moses, Kal-El's parents send him away in a small vessel in order to save him from impending doom, delivering him to new adoptive parents in an alien culture, where he is raised as one of their own. He grows up moral and just, and then learns he has great powers, after which he fights for the underdogs and becomes a savior to the people.

As Larry Tye says, "The narratives of Krypton's birth and death borrowed the language of Genesis."

According to the biblical scholar and historian Dennis R. MacDonald there are extensive connections between the Gospel stories found in the New Testament and the Greek myths and legends of old. In fact, MacDonald has gone further than anyone in showing that these links are more than just mere parallels but, in many instances, has revealed there to be Greek phrases lifted right out of the Iliad and Odyssey verbatim.

If these borrowings are as undeniable as MacDonald contends they are, then what about other parallels and similarities to the ancient Greek stories and the New Testament? Shouldn't these exist as well? I contend that they do.

In fact, I firmly believe that like the above Moses and Superman example, that the myth of Dionysus, specifically Euripides' epic The Bacchae, in all likelihood has had a large influence of the Gospel narrative of Jesus Christ.

Although I've talked about the parallels between Jesus and Dionysus in depth before, allow me to briefly recap some of the more striking parallels I have found. Once I've detailed my findings I'll let you judge whether or not they are pertinent of if I'm just grasping at straws (also, take note of how many of these fall on the Raglan scale).

1. In the opening lines of The Bacchae it states Dionysus changes in shape from God to man. Christians believe Jesus is God incarnate, an idea they get from the NT written by Greek authors who were, in all likelihood, well verse in the Greek epics.

2. Both Dionysus and Jesus' followers consisted of distinct male and female groups. The procession of followers of Dionysus were comprised of the thiasus (i.e., an ecstatic retinue), the bearded styrs and the loyal women the maenads. In the case of Jesus, his followers consist of the twelve Apostles (also an ecstatic retinue, and most of whom had beards) and the loyal women, namely the three Marys (and most likely other women as well). 

3. Both Dionysus and Jesus are linked to wine symbolism, and the harvest, and fit the pattern of dying and rising gods, or Corn Kings, a term C.S. Lewis used and derived from Sir James Frazer’s The Golden Bough, in which Frazer refers to the archetypal “sacrificial-scapegoat,” such as the dying and rising gods Osiris, Lityerses, Adonis, and Bacchae as the “Korn King.” Additionally, Peter Wick has shown how Jesus turning water into wine at the Marriage of Cana (cf. John 2:1-11; and John 2:3-5 with The Bacchae lines 254-56; 493-96; and 834-35) was intended to show that Jesus was superior to his pagan counterpart Dionysus.

4. In The Bacchae, Dionysus frequently refers to himself as the "Son of God" or "Child of God" whereas Jesus is frequently referred to as the Son of God in the Gospels. Later on, both are referred to as "God’s true Son" (cf. 1 John 5:20 with The Bacchae line 1050).

5. Both Dionysus and Jesus are raised by foster parents with royal ties. King Athamas and his wife Ino raise Dionysus and Joseph and Mary of the royal bloodline of King David raise Jesus. 

6. In both cases the foster parents are instructed by angelic figures (the winged Hermes in for Dionysus and the winged Gabriel for Jesus) to raise the child in a specific way or manner. 

7. Both infants are birthed in secrecy while fleeing from the powers that would seek to have them killed; the ever jealous queen of the gods Hera in the case of Dionysus and King Herod the Great in the case of Jesus.

8. Comparing the Gospel stories of Jesus’ trial with the trial of Dionysus in The Bacchae, we discover that both Jesus and Dionysus get arrested and, subsequently are interrogated by the appointed ruler of the land; Pontius Pilate and King Pentheus respectively. 

9. After they are questioned about their intentions, both give vague responses in much the same way, the most notable being that they both claim to “bare witness to the truth.”

10. Dionysus, when facing the charge of treason for claiming divinity (which, we shall not forget, Jesus faces similar, if not the very same, charges against himself), he refers to himself as a lion walking into a net (The Bacchae, line 1036) thus predicting his own demise. This mirrors Jesus’ prediction of his own death as well. Although it could be claimed a rather loose parallel, Jesus too is likened to the Lion of Judah in Revelation 5:5. It is simply interesting to note that both figures were likened to lions by those who authored their stories.

11. Jesus, like Dionysus, was also accused of drinking too much wine and with known drunkards, and that he himself was a known glutton and a drunkard (Mat. 11:19), an accusation he never denied.

12. Both are sacrificed on a hill (cf. Mark 15:22 with The Bacchae line 1047), and both rise into the heavens upon the clouds (cf. Matt. 26:64 and Mark 14:62 with The Bacchae lines 1685-86).

13. Regarding Jesus and Dionysus, both of their sacrifices guarantees the salvation from sin for their followers (cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:9 with The Bacchae line 1037).

14. During their final hours before death, both are surrounded by their most loyal female followers (in the case of Jesus the book of John mentions it’s the three Marys – his mother Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, the wife of Cleopas – and for Dionysus it’s Agave and her women attendants) and upon rising from death it is specifically these loyal female followers who discover them risen.

15. Both overcome death and then rise upon clouds of glory.

16. After being reborn and then spirited away, it is said each will be “exalted on high.”

Although not specifically a parallel between Dionysus and Jesus, we do find further parallels between the Gospel narrative and The Bacchae, this time involving each stories main antagonists.

For example, both Pontius Pilate and King Pentheus meet similar ends, dying atop mountains. According to legend, Pontius Pilate is filled with sorrow and remorse after Jesus’ death, and commits suicide during the first year of Caligula’s reign, while another legend places his death at Mount Pilatus, in Switzerland.

Likewise, King Pentheus, whose name literally means ‘man of sorrow’ (from the greek word péntho [πένθος] which means sorrow), is driven mad and runs into the woods of Mount Cithaeron, and is killed when he runs into the Bacchanalia (the all-female Maenads), the followers of Dionysus, who cut off his head.

Now, I'm not saying these parallels represent any form of plaigarism. Just that it seems more than a little bit likely that the Greek authors of the Gospel stories knew the classics and that Euripides epic The Bacchae may have been one of the dominant influences on the Jesus narrative, especially his trial, death, and resurrection. Furthermore, it's worth noting that from the moment of the trial to the moment of his death, Jesus' narrative follows the Dionysian narrative point by point in chronological order, which is peculiar -- to say the least.

Finally, I personally find it interesting that both Jesus and Dionysus begin in religions that were once polytheistic but later become monotheisms. Although unrelated to the types of mythemes I'm considering here, it still proves to be highly fascinating from an anthropological point of view.

Ultimately, however, whether one defends or contends the parallels, the point isn't that these are verbatim borrowings but, rather, that we have an archetype where popular themes, motifs, and ideas get retold in similar ways regarding similar religious figures.

Unlike many who are quick to dismiss such literary similarities as unrelated coincidence, I feel that the connection between Dionysus and Jesus Christ may be greater than some tend to think, not only because it is well understood that the story of Jesus turning water to wine seems to have been specifically designed to compete with the popular Dionysian mystery cult at the time, but also because, knowing this, we might come to find the rest of Jesus narrative was designed to compete as a more contemporary, popular version of Dionysus as well, perhaps as a means to win over pagan converts. I find this gives us reason enough to think maybe, just maybe, these parallels are more profound than just simple mythemes and random similarities. There may be a genuine influence of one narrative upon the other, and vice verse, and that's something worth thinking about.

[Update: Since publishing this article, I've received two emails by concerned Christians expressing how offensive they found the content. Of course, my intention was not to offend, merely enlighten. My only goal here was to raise some interesting points, ones I personally feel are worth pondering, and which others may or may not have been aware of. I also made sure to mention that being offended by the mere suggestion that there might be some parallels between Jesus and Dionysus would be a lot like getting offended over the obvious parallels between Moses and Superman. It's all rather silly, if you stop to think about it.]

Jesus the Corn King: Examining some Parallels Between Jesus and Dionysus

Jesus the Corn King: Examining the
Parallels between Jesus and Dionysus

“BEHOLD, God’s Son is come unto this land

Of heaven’s hot splendour lit to life, when she

Of Thebes, even I, Dionysus, whom the brand

Who bore me, Cadmus’ daughter Semelê,

Died here. So, changed in shape from God to man…”

– Euripides (The Bacchae)

According to the biblical scholar and historian Dennis MacDonald there are extensive connections between the Gospel stories found in the New Testament and the Greek myths and legends of old. In fact, MacDonald has gone further than anyone by showing that these links are more than just mere parallels but has shown, in many instances, these links to be exact copies of Greek phrases lifted right out of the Iliad and Odyssey.[1]

If these borrowings are undeniable, as MacDonald contends they are, then what about other parallels and similarities to the ancient Greek stories and the New Testament? Shouldn’t these exist as well? I contend that they do, and more specifically, I contend that the Jesus narrative closely follows, if not borrows from, the myth of Dionysus.

Modern scholars such as Friedrich Holderlin, Martin Hengel, Barry Powell, Robert M. Price, and Peter Wick, among others, have argued that there are distinct parallels between the ancient Dionysian religion and early Christianity. Perhaps more striking than this, however, are the parallels between Jesus himself and the pagan god Dionysus, especially when it come to ritual, wine, and symbolism.[2]

In fact, there seems to have been a direct rivalry between early early Christianity and the popular Dionysian religion. Scholar E. Kessler has detailed that the Dionysian cult had developed into a monotheism by the 4th century CE giving direct competition to early Christianity.[3] It does not take a leap of faith to imagine this rivalry existed prior to the Dionysian cult’s transformation as well.

Meanwhile, Peter Wick has shown how Jesus turning water into wine at the Marriage of Cana (John 2:1-11; and John 2:3-5) was intended to show that Jesus was superior to his pagan counterpart Dionysus.

Wick notes that the numerous references to wine, miracle and wine, and ritual and wine cannot possibly represent a Christian vs. Jewish controversy, as there is no discernible wine symbolism in Judaism, but that the entire book of John is laden with such wine symbolism as it is meant as a Christian attempt to depict Jesus as superior to Dionysus. [4]

The biblical historian Robert M. Price, citing the second century Greek geographer Pausanias, tells us that

Jesus changes water into wine in John 2:1-11, in apparent imitation of the annual miracle of the priests of Dionysus at Eleia. “The worship of Dionysos is one of the principal Elean cults, and they say the god himself visits them at the feat of Thuia…. The priests take three empty basins in the presence of the citizens and of any foreigners there may be and deposit them in a building. The priests themselves and anyone else who wants put seals on the doors of the building; the seals can be inspected the next day, and when they go inside they find the basins full of wine (Pausanias Guide to Greece 6.26.1-2). This would not be the only Dionysian legacy in the Gospels. John’s True Vine discourse is another. Some ancient writers considered Dionysus and Yahveh to be the same deity, and the Sabazius religion of Asia Minor certainly seems to have been built on that premise.[5]

Studies in comparative myth have shown how Jesus shares the dying and rising god mytheme with many other ancient gods.[6] Jesus’s mythic qualities are also highly reflective of many of the mythical and mystical beliefs of other cultures and traditions which predate him.

Even the beloved Christian apologist C.S. Lewis acknowledged the Dionysian and mythic elements in the Jesus Christ narrative often referring to Jesus as the dying and rising “Corn King” which parallels the symbolic celebration of the harvest, which Dionysus is traditionally representative of.[7]

Lewis clearly took his language from Sir James Frazer’s The Golden Bough, in which Frazer refers to the archetypal “sacrificial-scapegoat,” such as the dying and rising gods Osiris, Lityerses, Adonis, and Bacchae as the “Korn King.”

The dying and rising Dionysus was more than just symbolic of the seasons, however, as in Euripides play The Bacchae (circa 405 B.C.E.) it is said that through Dionysus’ death and the spilling of his blood, like wine, freed his followers from sin.[8]

In The Bacchae, Dionysus frequently refers to himself as the Child of God whereas Jesus is frequently referred to as the Son of God in the Gospels. Each of them are considered by their followers to be God incarnated as man. Both are raised by foster parents with royal ties (King Athamas and his wife Ino in the case of Dionysus and Joseph and Mary of the royal bloodline of King David in the case of Jesus) and in both cases the foster parents are instructed by angelic figures (the winged Hermes in for Dionysus and the winged Gabriel for Jesus) to raise the child in a specific way or manner. Both infants are birthed in secrecy while fleeing from the powers that would seek to have them killed (the ever jealous queen of the gods Hera in the case of Dionysus and King Herod the Great in the case of Jesus). Both Jesus and Dionysus get sentenced to death and both overcome death. After being reborn it is said each will be “exalted on high.”

Perhaps even more significant, however, are the Pontius Pilate and King Pentheus discourses which contain parallels so ripe and numerous it almost seems as if those anonymous Greek writers of the Gospels were so enamored with The Bacchae discourse between Dionysus and Pentheus that they simply retold it using their own dying and rising god figure, Jesus Christ.

In fact, the Pontius Pilate and Jesus dialog mirrors the King Pentheus and Dionysus dialog in such profound ways that I am strongly inclined to think it was the template for that particular discussion found in the New Testament.

Comparing the Gospel stories of Jesus’ trial with the trial of Dionysus in The Bacchae, we discover that both Jesus and Dionysus get arrested and, subsequently are interrogated by the appointed ruler of the land; Pontius Pilate and King Pentheus respectively, who then proceeds to take time out of their very busy schedule to share a philosophical exchange with the offenders. Pilate is worried about another insurrection thinking Jesus might be attempting to lead a revolt, whereas Pentheus is worried that Dionysus’ influence will continue to spread a rebellious kind of madness among the people who worship him. After they are questioned about their intentions, both give vague responses in much the same way, the most notable being that they both claim to “bare witness to the truth.”

Finally, after the lengthy philosophical exchange, both of our demigod protagonists are accused of sedition and ultimately killed in a blood sacrifice to cleanse their followers sins. But this is just the summary overview. If you were to actually read The Bacchae a little bit more in depth, you would find that there are many more parallels worth considering as well.

For example, after his discussion with King Pentheus, facing the charge of treason for claiming divinity (which, we shall not forget, Jesus faces similar, if not the very same, charges against himself),[9] [10] Dionysus refers to himself as a lion walking into a net (The Bacchae, line 1036) thus predicting his own demise. This mirrors Jesus’ prediction of his own death as well. Although it could be claimed a rather loose parallel, Jesus too is likened to the Lion of Judah in Revelation 5:5. It is simply interesting to note that both figures were likened to lions by those who authored their stories.

Other parallels between Jesus and Dionysus include the previously discusses fact that both share direct ties to wine symbolism (cf. John 2: 1-12 with The Bacchae lines 254-56; 493-96; and 834-35). At the marriage in Cana, Jesus turns water into wine, and takes on the ceremonial role of Dionysus who fills the empty wine flasks of his followers. It is worth noting that, along with the guests, Jesus and his disciples had drunk all of the wine (whether or not they get drunk isn’t mentioned, but one can assume it a likely possibility given what follows). This prompted the call for more wine, and instead of performing the Dionysian miracle of simply refilling everyone’s flask just once, Jesus goes above and beyond and changes six stone water jars, each holding 30 gallons, equating to roughly 180 gallons of water into wine.

Needless to say, 180 gallons of wine is far more than required for such a small wedding. Was Jesus trying to get everyone drunk? We might be forgiven for wondering if the Gospel writers weren’t overcompensating in trying to make Jesus into the new Dionysus, or perhaps this is this just another example of the Bacchean spirit of drunkenness being embedded in the story of Jesus? It is appropriate then that Jesus, like Dionysus, was also accused of drinking with known drunkards and that he himself was a known glutton and a drunkard (Mat. 11:19), an accusation he never denied.

Further similarities between Jesus and Dionysus include the fact that each of their sacrifices guarantees the salvation from sin for their followers (cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:9 with The Bacchae line 1037), and both are sacrificed on a hill (cf. Mark 15:22 with The Bacchae line 1047), and both rise into the heavens upon the clouds (cf. Matt. 26:64 and Mark 14:62 with The Bacchae lines 1685-86), and both are referred to as God’s true Son (cf. 1 John 5:20 with The Bacchae line 1050).

Finally, it is well worth mentioning that throughout their final hours before death both are surrounded by their most loyal female followers (in the case of Jesus the book of John mentions it’s the three Marys – his mother Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, the wife of Cleopas – and for Dionysus it’s Agave and her women attendants) and upon rising from death it is specifically these loyal female followers who discover them risen.

Now these numerous parallels do not guarantee beyond a reason of doubt that all or any of the aspects of the Jesus narrative was based in any way on the Dionysian myth, but I feel that the parallels are so numerous, so uncanny, with the very order of events corresponding to one another, that it would be unwise to dismiss such a possibility offhand.

As for the antagonists, both Pontius Pilate and King Pentheus, meet similar ends dying atop mountains. According to legend, Pontius Pilate is filled with sorrow and remorse after Jesus’ death, and commits suicide during the first year of Caligula’s reign, while another legend places his death at Mount Pilatus, in Switzerland. Likewise, King Pentheus, whose name literally means ‘man of sorrow’ (from the greek word péntho [πένθος] which means sorrow), is driven mad and runs into the woods of Mount Cithaeron, and is killed when he runs into the Bacchanalia (the all female Maenads), the followers of Dionysus, who cut off his head.

Given these similarities, I have to ask myself: were the Gospel writers, who were educated in Greeks and were trained in the ancient myths and stories of their culture, wouldn’t have put such references into the Gospel narrative of Jesus deliberately? If it is all just one big coincidence, what a coincidence indeed! A whole string of them! All seeming to form a distinct pattern connecting Jesus to Dionysus!

As noted earlier, there is no prevalent wine-symbolism in Jewish culture, but suddenly it is ripe within Hellenistic Christianity and the Jesus narrative. Why should it be so prevailing here in association to Jesus if not to pay homage to the Dionysian myths by retelling them using the new dying and rising Corn King? It makes sense that those living in the first, second, and third centuries would have been familiar quite with the Dionysian myth and Euripides’ The Bacchae, and would have instantly seen the parallels. I can only imagine that in the Hellenistic minds of the time, Greeks seeing Jesus as the new and improved Dionysus would be more inclined to accept Christianity. Why shouldn’t they?

It is only modern Christians, most of whom haven’t read Euripides and remain largely unaware of these parallels, who would find the suggestion that the Gospel writers were deliberately trying to make Jesus into a revamped Dionysus a troublesome consideration. But to those early Greeks, in a time when Christianity was rapidly expanding, such deliberate parallels would have made excellent pieces of early Christian propaganda for gaining pagan converts and allowing Jesus Christ to usurp one of the most popular and prominent pagan gods of the old religion and replace him, thus gaining status as the definitive Corn King.

---

[1] See Dennis MacDonald’s two books on this topic: The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark and Does the New Testament Imitate Homer? by Yale University Press.

[2] See: Pausanias, Description of Greece 6. 26. 1 – 2, and cf. Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae 2. 34a

[3] E. Kessler, “Pagan Monotheism in the Roman Empire,” Exeter, pp. 17-20, July 2006.

[4] Peter Wick, “Jesus gegen Dionysos? Ein Beitrag zur Kontextualisierung des Johannesevangeliums,”  Biblica (Rome:Pontifical Biblical Institute) Vol. 85 (2004) 179-198.

[5] Robert M. Price, The Incredible Shrinking Son of Man, 2003, Prometheus Press, pp. 158-59.

[6] Walter Burkert, Greek Religion, 1985, pp. 64, 132. Also see: The Christ Myth (Westminster College Oxford Classics in the Study of Religion) by Arthur Drews, 1998, p. 170. Also: Deconstructing Jesus by Robert M. Price, 2000, pp. 86-93, and all of chapter 7. And James Frazer’s The Golden Bough.

[7] C.S. Lewis, The Complete Signature Classics, 2002, HarperCollins, p. 402.

[8] See the Gilbert Murray translation of The Bacchae. Available online: http://www.bartleby.com/8/8/3.html

[9] Barry B. Powell. Classical Myth Second ed. With new translations of ancient texts by Herbert M. Howe. Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1998.

[10] Martin Hegnel, Studies in Early Christology, 2005, p.331.

Slavery in the Bible

I have always had a difficult time explaining to Christians all the numerous reasons why I have come to detest the Bible and its teachings contained therein. Of the the Bible's contemptible teachings one of the worst is that of it's defense (and in many cases indifference) of slavery. 

Many Christians claim that I have read or interpreted the Bible incorrectly. I usually get so frustrated by their hardheadedness and tactless comments that I preemptively end the conversation. Call me "sensitive," whatever, but I out right refuse to have a "serious" discussion with anyone who would defend something as horrible as slavery based on nothing more than the feeling that I am mistaken without giving it any further consideration. 

I don't like being talked down to in such a condescending manner--as if I couldn't read or comprehend the book I studied for three long decades. As if having two college degrees has somehow made me too sophist in my philosophical inquiries. Imagine my dismay when these are the very same conflicted allegations I continue to receive today. Yeah, either I am a moron or an intellectual elitist. That clears things up. 

Such slander doesn't sit well with me--and to make it worse Christians usually throw it out there as a matter of fact--either way--I'm an idiot or elitist snob--either way I am wrong because I do not prescribe to their Christian worldview. But why is the Christian worldview merely assumed to be right? This is the question I had roughly twenty-nine odd years ago, and upon investigating the matter I discovered that... contrary to the ubiquitous opinion of the unquestioning religious... Christianity is not a perfect belief system.

Perhaps, however, my self defensiveness has always had a way of getting in the way of me explaining the exact reasons why I think that the Bible is detestable, contemptible, and immoral.

In my past popular articles, like The Imperfect and Immoral Teachings of Jesus Christ, I have frequently raised several objections to the moral character of the person Christians worship by pointing out his acceptance of human bondage and slavery.

Predictably, however, the Christian defense erupts with claims that I am mistaken, wrong, and arrogant. Who would have the audacity to claim the perfect son of God is in anyway immoral or would gladly allow such a thing as lowly and despicable as slavery? Only a cold hearted atheist who is angry at God--well--that's the usual (and totally inaccurate) spiel of the Christian apologist who has entirely missed the point I was attempting to make. 

In the end, however, am I really wrong? 

No. I don't think so. And here is the why.

In what follows is an extensive, and highly detailed look, at Biblical slavery by the YouTube blogger Discovering Religion. In it he shows beyond a shadow of doubt that the Bible not only condones slavery (rather than condemning it) but also (in part 3) explains my very same concerns as why this destroys the "loving" God theology of Christianity utterly and totally.  

Without a doubt--there is NO redemption for the Bible or its most ardent defenders. Christianity is a corrupt ideology through and through and the good bits (what little there is) are overshadowed by the predominant horrors that it condones. It doesn't matter that modern sensibilities have overridden the unjust practice of slavery--the teachings continue to exist within the Bible as a mark indicating the exact depth of its moral corruption--and taken in their proper context--there is no denying that these teachings are highly unethical, if not downright evil.

Please watch these videos. They explain my line of reasoning with a clarity I sometimes lack. 

Slavery Anti-Apologetics (Introduction) 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdT1uODfXbw

Slavery in the Bible: Slavery Dialogs (1 of 3)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W-4zv1zagNE

Slavery in the Bible: Slavery Dialogs (2 of 3)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xml_8if0mU4

Slavery in the Bible: Slavery Dialogs (3 of 3) 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ITcuh28JQU

Transcript: 

http://discoveringreligion.net/?p=831

Why are Christians Hung Up on Sin?

Hung Up on Sin

The concept of sin can be broken into two parts. Because many Christians believe God and the Bible are sources of all moral authority, they’ve proceeded to set barely conceivable and quite nearly impossible standards for what it means to sin because they believe in the metaphysical nature of sin—namely anything which is a transgression of God’s perfect law—which itself is subject to interpretation—therefore a “sin” becomes anything which the Christian sees as morally reprehensible within the religious context. Therefore the first part of sin require a metaphysical presumption on the behalf of the believer about what God’s moral law actually implies and also what constitutes a breaking or transgression of that law. However, this is obviously a stretch of the imagination, since to presume to know God’s mind is presumptuous to say the least.

The other part, the second half of sin, is the application of the metaphysical hypothesis as applied to our daily living practices. Christianity has a full theology dedicated to living in a world with sin, because they want to ensure your soul will be spared from the corruptible nature of sin, and its capacity to turn us away from God. Most Christians are told, repeatedly, by their Pastors, Priests, and Preachers that they are innately sinners! In order to safeguard yourself from the corruptibility of sin you must first be baptized, and then accept the Holy Spirit, and then allow Jesus Christ into your heart as the guarantee of salvation from sin.

The old fundamentalist rhetoric is that we are all perishing and are in need of redeeming, and the only way to wash away our sins is to accept Christ as Lord and Savior (as Jesus death on the cross was an expiation, his blood cleansed us of sin in one final atonement).[1] The least we could do is accept this loving act and pay him back in a life of devotion and worship, right? I mean, the standard fare preachcraft espouses, “Jesus death saves us by demonstrating God’s love for us. It’s because of his love that he sent his one and only begotten son to save us, to rid of us our sin, so that we could live eternally by his side!”

Ancesteral Sin is Asinine

Sunday school teachers never forget to remind children, as I once was, that we’re all born sinners because we’re paying for the crimes of Adam and Eve after all—who were beguiled by a devious talking snake—and tricked Eve into tricking Adam to disobey God—never mind that every rational adult knows that it’s just a fable. At any rate, the claim is that sin is ancestral in nature and is inherited by each consecutive generation of mankind is completely spurious. The claim completely lacks a basis for support of any kind whatsoever. Furthermore, when it comes to the Garden of Eden story, and the “fall of man,” bible literalists seem to miss the moral of the story. They’re so hung up on the notion of sin that they forget to ask themselves what the story is even about.[i]

This lame attempt to bamboozle you by assuming we’re all predestined sinners and claiming God’s love caused him to sacrifice his one and only son, because of the crimes of a dubious talking snake and two hapless children at the dawn of time, in order to free humanity from its bondage to sin, makes no more sense than the capacity of a squealing sacrificial she-goat being bled to death supposedly washes away the sins of the ancient Israelites. If you’re a Christian, it may behoove you to ask yourself in all earnestness, did Jesus seriously die for the antics of a talking snake? Before you try to answer this question though, consider the corollary question, why couldn’t an all powerful God have simply zipped the lips of that damn snake? Was the snake more powerful than God?[ii] The whole story of how sin came about is just silly—even if we are to assume it’s only meant as a metaphor—what a ridiculous metaphor it is.

In his book the Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis goes one step further by calling the religious postulation that this ancestral sin obliged the universal “fall of man” is completely erroneous. About the lamentable situation of Adam and Eve, he states, “The Fathers may sometimes say that we are punished for Adam’s sin: but they much more often say that we sinned ‘in Adam’. It may be impossible to find out what they meant by this, or we may decide that what they meant was erroneous.”^[iii]

Muslims counter this absurd claim of “original sin” by informing Allah is the master of original forgiveness. Allah is all powerful, Allah does not require measly goat sacrifices as payment to appease him, he pardons who he will when he will. Something about the whole notion of sacrifice to wash away ones sins, blood sacrifice nonetheless, rings primitive and barbaric. I think Muslims have it right. If God is all powerful, why not just forgive and forget? Let bygones be bygones.

Theological Death Trap

Let’s not forget cause and effect. If original sin were real, and Jesus Christs died for the collective sins of mankind other theological problems arise, such as Penal Substitution Theory, in which God punishes an innocent person for the crimes of the guilty, which is an unjust act. What’s more, the Son of Man can’t technically pay for our sins on our behalf without obstructing our sense of moral responsibility. We’d never learn from out mistakes, since like a spoiled brat whose rich parents always pay their deviant son’s bail whenever he gets into too much trouble—Christ’s act of paying our bail, so to speak, would only stunt our moral growth. If sin were real, then it would be our debt to pay.

Even so, I have heard Christians argue that sin was too great a price to pay and that only the Son of God could have paid such a debt. C.S. Lewis argued this view as well, but the problem comes back to the negation of moral obligation by using an unjust method of scapegoating in order to pass the buck. Of course Christians may try and weasel their way out of the problem of Penal Substitution Theory by claiming that the atonement was an act of grace, a voluntary act of mercy on behalf of the Christ, or else the crimes were imputed to Christ, as if he were to blame. But both arguments don’t solve the problem since by grace, if Christ is considered to be truly sinless, then the inflicted punishment of crucifixion was itself an injustice, in which case grace gets equated to injustice, and this is a contradiction. Whereas imputing the crimes onto an innocent man, and punishing him, would be a blatant denial of the truth—it would amount to a case of being falsely accused and wrongfully convicted, like Rubin “The Hurricane” Carter, and furthermore it would be a complete disregard for any real justice.

One final problem arises when Christians posit that Jesus was co-eternal with the Father. If this is true (presumably) then Christ would have known beforehand that his death would be unjust and so, being one with God, he would not have died for our sins as he would be incapable of carrying out such a massive injustice. So any which way you choose to look at it Jesus’ expiation could not have been an act of grace. In actuality, it was a symbolic act of blood sacrifice which was not even necessary to begin with.

Why was the blood sacrifice unnecessary in the first place? Well, whatever sin may be, we know it is metaphysical in nature, therefore the spilling of blood could only be symbolic. Needles to say, for those living in the first century blood sacrifice was common place as it was seen as a way to appease a vengeful God by primitive bronzed aged peoples. The same primitive peoples which so often ignore the advice of their own holy books, such as that of Proverbs which says, “A soft answer turneth away wrath” (15:1). Christ’s blood sacrifice was technically just a last-ditch effort of turning away God’s unbridled wrath. Not exactly civilized—not exactly ethical either.

The same could be said of the dietary laws of the ancient Hebrews too, as kosher observance is a big deal in the Old Testament. Yet these are not the laws of an all knowing God—but of simple minded men belonging to a pre-agricultural nomadic society. If God were real he would have taught his people how to farm, how to irrigate, and how to plant and raise crops to sustain them and then the slaughter of swine, and the problem of procuring the meat without the proper means, wouldn’t have been an issue. Surely an all knowing / loving God could teach his people the science of agriculture over ill-bred herdsmanship and vegetarianism over carnivory and animal cruelty? Yet this is not the sort of God the faiths of Abraham depict. The God of Abraham, it would seem, is just as ignorant and blood thirsty as the uncivilized meat eating, animal sacrificing, herdsmen who wondered the Palestinian desert over two thousand years ago.

Another problem with “original sin” is that if it’s an inherited or “ancesteral” sin, it means God is holding us accountable for the sins of others as well! You’ve sinned, or at least your ancestors did, now worship God—not freely but by necessity. The tree of good and evil doesn’t even come into it—because it was not you or I who ate the fruit—so it’s not our fault; but you shall be punished for it none-the-less. Therefore God is being unjust by holding us accountable for crimes we did not commit. The Fall of Man, if we are to consider the fable a literal event, was not our fault. So why frame us?

No Need to be so Literal: Sin is just a Metaphor

Ancestoral sin is obvliously fake, because as an inherited trait, reason dictates that it would have to be passed on through our DNA. And although genetics and evolutionary biology can explain humanity’s altruistic behavior, as proved by the evolutionary theorist George Price in 1970, there is no reason to suppose that sin is in anyway an inherited evil. Even Charles Darwin, a once devout believer, came to find the Christian claims absurd. In his autobiography he states, “I had gradually come by this time to see the Old Testament, from its manifestly false history of the world, with the Tower of Babel, the rainbow as a sign, etc. etc. and from its attributing to God the feelings of a revengeful tyrant, was no more to be trusted than the sacred books of the Hindoos or the beliefs of any barbarian.”[iv]

Furthermore, a curious question arises: if we come ready made as sinners, only to have no option but to turn to God to free our perishing souls, and by necessity enter into a contract which ensures our eternal salvation—then why invent sin in the first place? Why not just skip that part, and go straight on to designing us as cogs in the worship machine? Sin accompanies with it the notion that, at the very least, we have the ability to defy God, to make the choice to reject him, using free will.[2] Free will gives us the ability to choose a different option than the preselected one. It allows us the choice of individual sovereignty over theocratic and theocentric dominion.

Cake or Death?

Free choice complicates things even further since if God was merely offering two options, one good and one bad, and knowing he’d punish us for choosing the wrong one, then such an ‘either or appeal’ smacks of sinister intent. In the back of my mind I can’t help but think of comedian Eddy Izzard’s lampooning remark, “Cake or death?” In actuality such a scenario does not denote free will at all, because ultimately there is only one rational choice.

Bizarre as it seems to a reasonable person, many don’t see that Jehovah is acting the role of an insane terrorist and is holding the loaded pistol in one hand and the cake in the other only to offer you the choice, “Would you like some cake or death?” Then before you’ve even had time to wrap your mind around the situation he immediately shoots his own son in the face! BLAM!! It’s almost as if he was daring you to doubt him. Now that you’re terrified that he’s goading you to tempt his resolve, you know that you have but only one choice, as bitter as it is, you find no other option but to muster up a nervous smile and a cheerful, “Pass me the cake, please.” Then you share a slice over the dead body of Christ—who paid for your hesitation and doubt to fess up to some ancestral obligation to write off somebody else’s sins—with his life. Indeed, the more you pause to think about how insane it really is the more convoluted the concept of original sin becomes. But whatever you do—don’t you dare say no to the God-father because he’ll hang you out to dry (or fry).

Cross the God-father and he’ll take you to the cleaners. Any trifling offense will do, such as stealing a bite of forbidden fruit, or just not believing in him enough, questioning him, speaking a blasphemy in his name, besmirching a popular prophet’s exalted name, or anything which dares to trample God’s immense pride even just a little bit is reason enough to damn people to hell. Traditionally, the monotheistic deity of Judeo-Christian religious tradition, and equally Allah of Islam, have exhibited a mobster mentality so insanely capricious that we can’t help but feel rationally inclined to question the inordinate disparity between finite offenses and infinite punishment. 

By way of this observation we can call into question the nature of a God who consigns his own creations to hell, presumably, to enjoy everlasting torment simply for the lack of belief or any other infinitesimally obscure crime such as eating a pork chop sandwich or picking up a stick on the weekend. The biblical God’s cruel hearted capriciousness is what caused Darwin to have doubts in Christianity as a whole. In his autobiography Darwin writes about his loss of faith, candidly recounting, “I can indeed hardly see how anyone ought to wish Christianity to be true; for if so, the plain language of the text seems to show that the men who do not believe, and this would include my Father, Brother, and almost all my best friends, will be everlastingly punished. And this is a damnable doctrine….”[v]

As for picking up sticks on the Sabbath (a crime punishable only by death according to God’s law), we have a different dilemma. What if a blast of wind blew over a heavy tree which toppled onto your home and fell onto your hapless child? Wouldn’t it be nobler, more virtuous, and even compulsory to save your own child than to worry whether or not God would punish you for it? And if you didn’t save your child, wouldn’t you, in essence, be breaking God’s other commandment to be fruitful and rear children? Obviously, it’s a lose-lose-situation. You’re stuck in the quagmire of being damned if you do and damned if you don’t. But low and behold, knowing you’re going to betray him and sin anyway (never mind it’s a set up) the God-father offers you an out and gives you but one of two choices, eternal bliss or eternal damnation, “cake or death?”

But like Bertrand Russell, I too, “…really do not think that a person with a proper degree of kindliness in his nature would have put fears and terrors of that sort into the world.”[vi] Least of all an all loving God—since a God who loved us would not be so needlessly cruel. It seems to me the concept of sin is rather convoluted precisely because it’s simply not a matter of black and white, “good vs. evil.” When questions of morality are at stake, such as ethical conduct and behavior, or what it means to be good or bad at all, there is a full gray scale to be considered. And to make it a black and white issue about the choice between obedience and rebellion, sin and salvation, cake or death, is simply to offer a false dichotomy and is an unfair ultimatum. 

The Problem with Original Sin

Knowing that we can discern that original sin is an unfair ultimatum and by reason we can reveal it to be a false dichotomy raises the obvious concern: could the initial status of original sin even be allowed for by an omniscient and benevolent God? The answer is clearly no. Even if, as many theologians have attempted to argued, God wanted to allow sin as a means to teach us moral responsibility—or to bring about a greater good by allowing a small evil—such a capacity would be abscent in an all loving God to begin with. And since a loving God could not possibly have allowed for the sequence of events leading to original sin in the first place, we know that the only way to allow for such a theory is to posit a God which is not entirely loving, and which may be altogether capricious or malevotlent.

Introducing free will in order to get over the hump of the rest of the theological problems which arise, by supposing it was in our choosing to obey the self rather than obey God which spurred forth the initial act of defiance, e.g. original sin, does not save God from being crule as it presupposes there could only be two choices—a right one and a wrong one—cake or death—and again we come back to the problem of it being an unfair ultimatuam. The idea of original sin, for all intents and purposes, is impossible if an all loving God does exist. In fact, it is a faulty premise which only complicates matters because it does the opposite, working against the theist’s claims, by proving that God is not loving but ominous. I think C.S. Lewis was right to hint at the fact that the concept of original sin might be erroneous, because, quite frankly, it is.

My question would be why are Christians still hung up on this sin business anyway? I’ll tell you why, basically because it is exactly that—a business scheme. It’s the salvation racket. Without the idea of sin, they’d have nothing to bargain with. Without the promise of heaven they’d have nothing to entice you with. Max Weber’s elective affinity[vii] does apply, because without a system of revenue the Church would have no choice but to shut down its business practice. In this case the system is a barter system—where the value is not placed on currency but the worth of your soul. If you agree to give it over to the Christ, trade your soul for their promise that the Church will keep you sin free and keep your soul safe in a lock box for you when the Final Judgement arrives, so that when that time comes and God checks your credit, you’ll be covered and will be able to cash out and get the sweet lot in Heaven.

Without the threat of punishment, torture, and everlasting pain in an imaginary hell, however, the Christian oligarchy would have nothing to blackmail you with—and the scheme fails. But for it to work, they first must to sell you the concept of sin. As the Jewel song says, “In order to believe in forgiveness, you must first believe in sin.” If you buy into that, the rest is easy. 

The Born-Again Experience

In order for the person of faith to feel vindicated in believing what they do, they have to be part of a community of believers, since if they were the only person of faith on the planet there would be no mass religious movements or religious institutions. Thus maintaining the level of faith among God believers is the utmost interest of the Church organization. After all, the Church cannot survive without any followers.

Evangelical Christianity teaches that everyone is born into sin, and in the mind of the believer this causes a pressing feeling of insufficiency, self- deficiency, even helplessness, but then they are offered salvation and their crippling shame doesn’t matter anymore. Now they can turn to God, and in the denial of the self they can say the “sinner’s prayer” ask for forgiveness, accept Jesus, and be “saved” thus be transformed into a born-again Christian! They can gain acceptance into a community of believers.

As a consequence of believing in the literal nature of sin, however, the born-again believer can only view their brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, friends, and acquaintances they meet on the street as people who are perishing and are in dire need of “saving.” Therefore evangelism, missionary work, discipleship and converting others (i.e. convincing people of the benefits of joining the club) become necessary in reinforcing and maintaining the faith. The Evangelical system is set up like a pyramid scheme, that way the born-agains can spend all their energy prosylatizing while the priestly elite can sit around and write sermons. And this notion that one needs to save others strengthens his faith by making him feel like the power of God is working through him. Even if he doesn’t succeed he can still consider it a victory for the lessons he learned in how to better go about converting the next person he runs into. Coincidentally this also breeds fanaticism—which is prominent within Evangelical movements—in turn lending to the revivalism which spurs on the growth of Christian Evangelism and is probably why it has been so successful.

The late great Eric Hoffer had this to say on proselytizing:

The missionary zeal seems rather an expression of some deep misgiving, some pressing feeling of insufficiency at the center. Proselytizing is more a passionate search for something not yet found than a desire to bestow upon the world something we already have. It is a search for final and irrefutable demonstration that our absolute truth is indeed the one and only truth. The proselytizing fanatic strengthens his own faith by converting others.[viii]

            Evangelical Christianity relies on the doctrine of original sin as the mechanism to convert others, but in order to be born-again you must first debase yourself and grovel like an abject slave, and in losing faith in yourself place all faith in God and be saved. Evangelical Christaintiy says sin is stronger than you—but I say bullocks. Nobody has ever proved the metaphysical claim of sin to be anything more than a metaphysical supposition. Still, that hasn’t stopped religious fanatics from using it as a tool for proselytization.

Sin or no sin, metaphysical claims notwithstanding, even if you do consider yourself a sinner, odds are, if you are a mentally healthy individual then you are almost certainly doing more good than bad each day. So what causes us to be weak and to do bad things you wonder? Suffice to say, we’re not perfect! We’re each of us fallible, imperfect, and prone to make mistakes. Apparently some more than others, depending on our circumstances, how we were raised, cultural upbringing, economics, our individual temperament, and numerous other conditions and factors. Our so called “sinful” natures are just one of the stamps of our lowly animal imperfection—our biological weakness as mere primates—welcome to the human race!

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[1] This is known as moral influence theory.

[2] See: Free Will and the Dilemma of Determinism.

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[i] Most Christians believe the Garden of Eden fable to be a tale of obedience to God and a metaphor to explain the emergence of sin. But this is an apologetic reading of the text which seeks to find a rationalization for the theological riddle of the problem of evil. Christians often overlook the fact that the story of Adam and Eve is a coming of age fable which represents the necessity to grow up and become wise and responsible individuals independent from our parents. Modern Chrisitian exegesis seems to be bound to the fundamentalist tendency to constantly harmonize the Bible, and diminish the discrepancies which arise from the conflict of metaphisyca assumptions, and at the same time seems to represent an undying wish for security by remaining under the care and provision of a supreme parental figure.

The Sunday school version of the story makes it appear that the human specieis is forever begging a heavenly father to let us back into his home after he’s disowned us—and the message to always heed one’s parents and obey them, or face the consequences and punishment, is taught to small children to frighten them into honoring their parents. But like any parent concerned with our futures, God shues us from the nest forcing us to have to learn to fly on our own—all part of growing pains. Granted you can read the story both ways, it seems odd to me that Christians so desperately want to be dependent upon God and seek to revert into the infantile children in the garden—the message they project into their reading of the story—when all the mythical imagery, i.e. trees of knowledge and animal guides, suggests the opposite—it’s an enlightenment fable which has nothing to do with obedience toward God or metaphysical assumptions about the nature of sin.

[ii] Some have claimed the snake was actually Satan in disguise. To the contrary, the Bible never says this, nor is such an inference supported anywhere in the scriptures, thus the claim is discernibly false.

[iii] C.S. Lewis, Problem of Pain, p.64

[iv] Barlow Nora, The Autobiography of Darwin Charles, 1809-1882, WW Norton & Company, New Yoerk 1958, p. 85

[v] Ibid. p. 87

[vi] From “Why I am not a Christian,” The Basic Writings of Bertrand Russell, p.594.  Allen & Unwin, 1961.

[vii] Elective affinity is a term used by Weber to describe the match between aspects of Protestantism and those of the ethos of capitalism. The one provides the soil in which the other can flourish.

[viii] Eric Hoffer, The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements (New York: Harper & Row, 1951), p. 108.