For we are the temple of the living God. As God has said: “I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people.” “Therefore come out from them and be separate, says the Lord. Touch no unclean thing, and I will receive you.” “I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.”

“Make the heart of this people calloused; make their ears dull and close their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed.” Then I said, “For how long, O Lord?” And he answered: “Until the cities lie ruined and without inhabitant, until the houses are left deserted and the fields ruined and ravaged, until the LORD has sent everyone far away and the land is utterly forsaken.”  

The phrase “spiritual but not religious” has become such a common description that an acronym has developed: SBNR. Are you an SBNR? 

“We just did. No forky toes.”

“What about birds?”

Also before the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal. In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back. The first living creature was like a lion, the second was like an ox, the third had a face like a man, the fourth was like a flying eagle. 

★★★★★

Piscine Molitor Patel (nickname: Pi) grows up as an impressionable young son of a zookeeper in India. When the family decides to sell the zoo animals and relocate to Canada, they board a cargo ship with the caged animals and set off. Tragedy strikes, the ship sinks, and young Pi (now sixteen, I think) finds himself on a 20-foot lifeboat with a wounded zebra, a hyperactive hyena, a likeable orangutan and a waiting tiger as his only companions. Soon, as you can imagine, it’s just he and the tiger.

Let’s back up. Pi’s passion is Christ. Well, and Muhammed. And Krishna. As a practicing Christian, Muslim, and Hindu in India, he sees no reason to choose between the three, but this drives his three spiritual advisors batty. Only one of the three can be right, right? The stage is set for a journey which will uncover God, for that is the book’s promise: to deliver a story that will make you believe in God.

But in the middle of the shark-infested Pacific ocean, with a ferocious Bengal tiger filling most of the lifeboat, God seems to slip out of the story. Where has God gone? Why bother introducing Pi’s triune confusion, if only to let God slide by the wayside? Most readers, I’m convinced, will never find Him again. You won’t find God either, if you don’t keep your eyes open, or if you point those eyes only up to heaven.  Even those who imagine they have uncovered Martel’s postmodern message may be unwilling to probe inside the fanciful tale atop the banal story wherein God dwells.

//Sometimes, one person’s blessing is another person’s curse. Like in football: All those fans praying their hearts out, so God blesses one team with a touchdown, and the same blessing saddles the other team with a seven point deficit. Poor God can’t win for losing.

★★★★

Paul Copan responds to the New Atheist stance that the God of the Old Testament is a “moral monster.” I agreed with only about half of Copan’s conclusions, but his book was well-written, informative, and fun to read.

Copan begins by attempting to make sense of the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac. I loved the short discussion comparing the two times that God called Abraham: The first time to come to the promised land, the second time to sacrifice his son. Because of similar language, Copan argues that Abraham “couldn’t have missed the connection being made … God is clearly reminding him of his promise of blessing in Genesis 12 even while he’s being commanded to do what seems to be utterly opposed to that promise.” Outside of this, though, the Abraham/Isaac story is one of those sections of Copan’s book that just didn’t work for me. It doesn’t seem to matter how it’s explained to me, as soon as someone tries to pull this story down from the level of mythology and make me imagine it to be a true story that really happened, I start to feel queasy. I’d have a few choice words for God if he told me to kill my son. If Copan doesn’t mind, I’ll continue to classify this Bible passage as “storied theology,” where it’s much more palatable.

Copan spends several chapters talking about Israel’s slavery laws, and this section is superb. Was this law ideal? Certainly not. But there are three points I’d like to bring out here:

[1] We are discussing the Law of God, not what actually transpired among imperfect people. Yep, they kept slaves against the rules. The law was not faithfully followed.

[2] Copan points out again and again that Israel’s laws were a great improvement over the surrounding nations. God held Israel to a higher standard.

[3] Although this point gets little press time in the book, as the law evolved, it became more and more humane. Compare, for example, the Book of the Covenant, quoted by the Elohist in Exodus 21, with the Priesthood writings in Leviticus 19, and finally with the Deuteronomist’s instructions in Deut 22.

Yes, the Old Testament law seems archaic and brutal by today’s standards. Yet it’s clear Israel was  learning and was trying to become Godly. Perhaps slowly approaching the standard God had in mind. Buy the book and, if you read nothing else, study chapters 11-14.

Next, Copan tackles what I feel are the most troublesome issues: genocide and ethnic cleansing. Particularly, the conquest of Canaan. Copan points out (rightly) that the Bible’s claims of utter annihilation are highly exaggerated, and that archaeological evidence hints that no such mass conquest took place. For the most part, Israel peacefully settled into Canaan without warfare and without driving out its inhabitants. But whether or not the conquest really happened, the fact remains that the Word of God graphically describes these holy wars in quite unholy terms, and claims that God commanded this inhumanity. Read, for example, Numbers 31:17-18, where God gives instruction regarding Midianite captives: “Now kill all the boys. And kill every woman who has slept with a man, but save for yourselves every girl who has never slept with a man.” Copan tries to soften the command, explaining that the non-virgin women were seducing Israel’s men and the boys would grow up to become warriors, but nothing can soften that one.

Copan presents a word game at this point. Moses commanded the armies to “utterly destroy” the Canaanites and not to “leave alive anything that breathes.” Joshua didn’t do this; we have lots of evidence of Canaanite people remaining afterward. Yet if you read Joshua 11:12, it says Joshua did as he was told; he utterly destroyed them as Moses commanded. Ergo, since Joshua didn’t kill ‘em all, but the Word of God says he did what he was told, then we can apparently consider Moses’ original command as hyperbole…the rhetoric of war. God didn’t really sanction genocide.

Well, whatever. Copan’s next attempt to justify this evil by reminding us that God is the author of life and has a rightful claim on it falls flat for me. If any kids were killed, they would go straight to heaven anyway, he says. The danger of that kind of thinking hardly needs discussion!

Though well-researched and thought-provoking, I finished the book with the feeling that Copan tried his best to tackle an impossible topic. I think it’s a four-star attempt and a fun book; I can’t judge the loser of a debate merely because he was given an indefensible position, right?