The Facade

FacadeThis summer when I was doing my 4000 mile road trip through the South and Southwest, I visited Roswell, New Mexico–y’know, the site of the famous “UFO crash.”

While there gawking at all the alien stuff on Main Street, I looked up and saw a building with a sign saying “Alien Resistance HQ.” It turned out to be a kind of Christian coffeeshop (“Defending the Planet, One Tasty Beverage at a Time”) using the “alien resistance” schtick to draw in New Agers visiting Roswell.

I had a talk with the gentleman who owns it. He’s very nice. From Detroit. An ordained Protestant minister. He founded a Christian motorcycle club. And now he spends his days evangelizing New Agers at Alien Resistance HQ. He also believes that the earth is hollow and that that’s where UFOs come from.

While at Alien Resistance HQ, I looked over the books and DVDs he had for sale. One was the book on the left. At the time, I didn’t buy it, but I did buy a DVD of a lecture by the book’s author, Michael Heiser (not the same as the guy who runs the coffee shop).

In the lecture Heiser–who is a scholar of ancient near eastern languages–critiques Zechariah Sitchin–who is a fake scholar of ancient near eastern languages.

In case you aren’t aware, Sitchen has published a number of books that are all the rage in the UFO community. In these books, he claims to have deciphered ancient texts that show that there is a planet in the outer solar system that swings into the inner solar system in a multi-thousand-year orbit. This planet is, according to the ancient texts, the home of an advanced race that gave rise to humanity and that is the basis of various world religions. He also claims they’re mentioned in the Bible.

This is, of course, pure bunkum.

Sitchen’s claims are absurd. They are not based on textual scholarship, because Sitchen has no scholarship. He is a fraud, pure and simple.

I’ve thought about critiquing Sitchen at some point, but haven’t had the occasion yet, so I was interested to see Heiser’s lecture. Got the DVD. Watched it. And it was good! I was quite pleased. Heiser takes Sitchen to task in a very gentlemanly but very devastating manner.

The lecture was so good that I decided I wanted to read Heiser’s work, including his novel, so I ordered it and read it while I was on the way to this year’s Catholic Answers Cruise. I’d like to recommend it to those who would be interested. Here’s the scoop . . .

The Facade is a novel in which Heiser explores the modern UFO phenomenon and ideas he has been pondering about aliens and how they might be related to the Bible. At the center of the novel is a character who is basically a knock-off of the author: a (then) still-in-school scholar of ancient near eastern languages who happens to have a strong interest in UFOs and something called “the divine council” (more on that in a minute).

A lot of this character’s biography seems to overlap (or at least reasonate) with Heiser’s at the start of the novel, but then the character’s biography takes a sharp turn. He is abducted by government agents who take him to a secret base where various experts have been gathered to try to help figure out how to break the news to the public of a crisis that proves the existence of extraterrestrial life. But, the reader quickly finds out, the agents running the discussion group are lying to the experts about the situation. The questions are: What is really happening here, and what–if anything–can be done about the true crisis?

The novel starts slowly. At first the experts do what experts typically do: Sit around in conference rooms and argue with each other. These discussions perform the function of getting the reader up to speed on the concepts that the novel will involve (which many readers will find fascinating), but the first part of the novel could really use some action. There’s too much “tell” and not enough “show.”

This changes, and the plot kicks into high gear. By the end of the book dramatic reversal is piling on top of dramatic reversal in a way that keeps the reader guessing until not just the book’s final pages but–for many readers–its final sentence.

I have to commend the author on several points for which he deserves a lot of credit:

1) He has written a book that attempts to seriously grapple with the question of extraterrestrial life from a conservative Christian perspective. There are hardly any books out there that do this, particularly in the direct way that this one does. It forces the reader to think through several different scenarios about what it would mean for Christians if extraterrestrial life was discovered in our day.

2) Though the main character (representing conservative Evangelicalism) does get the best and most crucial insights, the author makes a real effort to spread the credit around to characters with different viewpoints. It isn’t as if everyone else is a bumbler who has to be corrected by the Evangelical. Characters from other perspectives–including unsympathetic characters–get to contribute important insights. The author could have gone even farther in this direction–for example by having the Evangelical only know about the Bible and ancient languages and have the UFO insights all contributed by others–but Heiser deserves credit for not having the novel simply involve a set of lectures by a know-it-all representative of his position.

3) In fact, the main character has significant flaws. He’s not in constant mortal sin or anything like that, but the effects of the Fall are clear in him. He isn’t a macho, athletic, self-confident, Doc Savage kind of scholar-hero. He’s more of an ordinary, nerdy, sincere Christian guy thrust into extraordinary circumstances.

4) The author also gives sympathetic treatment to Catholic characters. The chief ally of the Evangelical expert is a Catholic expert who happens to be a Jesuit. This character is portrayed quite sympathetically and he gets to contribute important insights (including a major one that escaped the Evangelical hero, even though it was in his own field). The author doesn’t get all of the Catholic stuff in the novel a hundred percent right (in fact, a couple of things are silly), but he’s making a serious and respectful attempt to incorporate Catholic Christians into the novel. (Also, though John Paul II doesn’t appear and is dead by the time the novel begins, he is spoken of in glowing terms.)

5) There is a conversion of sorts that occurs during the course of the novel, and it is handled far, far better than conversions typically are in novels (of this or any sort). There is no “praying the sinner’s prayer” moment, and the author shows an awareness that serious conversions usually take time and are not complete all at once. In fact, this conversion isn’t quite complete by the end of the novel, but the character in question is far down the road to redemption.

6) The author is willing to deal with subjects that would be utterly taboo in many Evangelical novels. This means, in part, that some of the subjects discussed in the novel make it not suitable for children, though that material is slight. (Also, in case you’re wondering, nobody “does it” in this novel; it wasn’t written by Andrew Greeley, after all.) It also means that he does some really cool dramatic moves. Some of these pertain to the climax of the novel, and I was delighted to see them. The last sentence, in particular, does something few Evangelical authors would have the guts to do. (It also sets up a potential sequel.)

7) The author also explores modern UFO mythology from a sympathetic but skeptical perspective. He offers conjectures about the Roswell crash, for example, that you don’t hear very often.

One of the centerpieces of the novel is the idea of “the divine council.” Before the novel began the author’s character got himself into trouble by discussing this concept in an injudicious manner among Evangelicals, and I suspect that the author has done the same thing in real life. There are a few techniques the author could use to neutralize potential criticism on this point, but he’s onto something real here.

The basic idea is that in the ancient near eastern cultures–including Israelite culture–heaven was envisioned as a divine royal court with God (or the chief god) as the king. In addition to the king, the court also contained princes, counselors, military figures, and even a prosecutor (i.e., Satan). At the bottom of the heavenly court or “divine council” were the messengers, who we know as angels (since that’s what the word angelos originally *meant* in Greek: “messenger”; the same was true of the equivalent Hebrew and Aramaic terms). Over the course of time much of this imagery faded from popular consciousness and everybody in the divine council tended to be referred to as just angels, but the traces of the original divine council metaphor are still there in the Old Testament. (This is something I wrote about a number of years ago, though I could do a better job of it now.)

The author uses the novel to introduce the concept of the divine council to his readers, and although some things in the resulting angelology he offers are quite questionable (e.g., the degree to which members of the divine council might be able to assume biological form), it is still nice to get an obscure concept being introduced to a wider audience. Up till now, it’s tended to be just scholars who have been aware of it.

All told, The Facade is a fascinating exploration of how the idea of extraterrestrial life might square with the Christian faith, and I would recommend it to anyone who would like to see this question wrestled with in fictional form.

GET THE BOOK

P.S. *DO NOT* spoil the last sentence for yourself!

Thanks, Steve!

Howdy, folks!

I’m back from the Catholic Answers Cruise now. As expected, it was both a lot of fun and a lot of work.

Now that I’m back physically, I’ll also be back to regular blogging strength starting tomorrow morning.

In the interim, I just wanted to thank Steven Greydanus for gracing these “pages” with his insights and say that, as always, he’s more than welcome to contribute whenever he’d like.

Three cheers for Steve!

Looking Like A Winner?

Okay, you know those rubber novelty masks of famous people like Ronald Reagan, Richard Nixon, and Tor Johnson that people (I’m never sure who) buy and wear?

Well, it appears that sales of these things are a good predictor of who will win presidential elections in this country.

Apparently, sales of presidential masks have picked the winner of the last six presidential elections (as far back as it’s been researched, apparently):

Masksales

BuyCostumes.Com has the story, as well as info on current mask sales this election cycle.

Orthodoxy and Catholicism, part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

SDG here with a Q-and-A continuation of my exchange with my Orthodox-leaning friend…

Q. You have written many words and obviously put a great deal of thought into advancing your point of view…

A. Actually, when I first began thinking about all this, it wasn’t at all a question of “advancing my own point of view,” but of “Which point of view should I take in the first place?” I had come to a place where I knew that I couldn’t stay Protestant forever — the sand was sinking under my feet, and I knew I had to make a leap that would take me either to Catholicism or to Orthodoxy. Frankly, Orthodoxy was an appealing possibility. I did some reading and studying, and talked to a lot of people before it became clear to me that I must be Catholic.

I won’t pretend that I personally unraveled all the theological issues and proved to my own satisfaction that the Catholic Church was right. On the contrary, it was in part precisely my awareness of the sheer folly of presuming to think that I could sit down and sort out all the relevant data and arrive at a definitive judgment about which bishops were correct in their interpretation of the scriptures, the Councils, and the traditions that led me eventually to conclude that God couldn’t possibly have left me in the position of having to judge for myself which group of bishops is correct. The bishops are there to instruct me, not I to judge between them. So how I am to know which group of bishops to follow can’t be a matter of deciding for myself which are right and which are wrong. There must be another way, another authority capable of passing judgment on the bishops, whose judgment I can simply accept without first sitting in judgment of it.

And so eventually I concluded that the only candidate for the job — the bishop of Rome — had to be the man for the job.

Q. Of course, in a way, you WERE sitting in judgment because you DID choose the Catholic group of bishops over the Orthodox group of bishops.

A. That seems to me like saying that a man who converts to Christianity sits in judgment of Jesus because he chooses him as his Lord and Savior.

I didn’t decide to become Catholic rather than Orthodox because I first satisfied myself that the Catholic bishops rather than the Orthodox bishops agreed with me on all the issues, any more than I am a Christian because I examined Jesus’ teachings and was pleased to find that he supported my views.

If my judgment on the actual content of the issues that divide the Catholic and Orthodox bishops is the only basis I have for choosing between them, then in what sense are they my teachers? Why in that case have authoritative teachers in the first place, if indeed we can call them authoritative? Why have authoritative councils? Since every man must decide the truth for himself, why not just give the people the Bible and call it a day? For that matter, why not just let everyone decide for himself which books are inspired and which aren’t?

Look at it this way. In differentiating his beliefs from, say, Modalism or Donatism, is it enough for an Orthodox Christian to say that he personally has examined those teachings on the basis of the scriptures and the traditions and found their interpretations lacking? Or does he place great importance on the fact that the scriptures and traditions have been authoritatively interpreted by this or that council, to whose authority the heretics ought to submit but which they reject, and by which their interpretations have been explicitly rejected?

Of course I’m saying nothing against examining Donatism and knowing why it’s wrong. As a Western Catholic Christian, I’m all about critical thought. 🙂 But it’s important, isn’t it, to the Orthodox Christian’s self-understanding on this point that what stands between himself and the Donatist isn’t simply a question of individual interpretation of scriptures, traditions, and councils — that the matter has been authoritatively settled by an authority to which the Donatist ought to submit but which he rejects, and which explicitly rejects his interpretation?

Would not the same be true for the Orthodox Christian in distinguishing his beliefs from Protestantism, this time in connection with the authority of the bishops and of sacred tradition as well as that of the councils? Or from Judaism, in connection with the New Testament, or of Islam, in connection with the whole of scripture, and so on?

But now come to the Catholic Church. Suddenly it’s all very different. Both sides accept sacred tradition. Both sides accept the teaching authority of the bishops. Both sides accept the councils up to Nicaea II. For the first time, the only time, the Orthodox Christian has no higher ecclesiastical authority to which he can appeal — no authoritative interpretation to which Western Christians ought to submit but which they reject, and which explicitly rejects their interpretation. In fact, this time it’s the Catholic who claims the higher authority, and the Orthodox Christian who rejects it.

Suddenly the Orthodox Christian is in the same boat vis-a-vis Catholicism as is the Donatist or the Protestant vis-a-vis Orthodoxy. He must say that the problem with the Catholic Church is that although they accept the traditions and the councils, they interpret them wrongly, and claim false authority as their basis for doing so. In spite of lacking any authoritative interpretation condemning the Western errors that should be binding upon Western Christians but which they reject, he must argue, in effect, that they are simply mistaken, and that he is not.

It strikes such a different note, don’t you think? To me, it seems almost Protestant, almost in spirit analogous to an appeal to sola scriptura; it says, Judge for yourself and see, and agree with us, for we are right. Nothing wrong with that as far as it goes, of course, but in no other controversy does the Orthodox Christian consider that a sufficient response.

But there is no such different note on the Catholic side. The Catholic response to Orthodoxy is precisely the same as the response of both communions to everyone else. What stands between the Catholic and the Orthodox Christian as far as the Catholic is concerned isn’t just a matter of anyone’s interpretation or misinterpretation of sacred scripture, tradition, and the councils — the matter has been authoritatively settled by an authority to which the Orthodox ought to submit but which they reject, and by which their interpretations have been explicitly rejected.

So I do think there’s a difference between, on the one hand, “sitting in judgment” of authority in the sense in which heretics do so, and on the other hand what Orthodox Christians do in accepting the authority of the councils against the heretics, and what Catholics do in accepting the authority of the pope against the Orthodox.

Q. I guess the Roman bishop was the “only candidate for the job” because he was the only bishop who dared to claim that the job even existed — and since you had decided that somebody, somewhere, must HAVE that job, you agreed with him.

A. Given the way that some kind of final authority stands between the two sides of every other schism and heresy, an authority that is accepted by those on the right side and rejected by those on the wrong side, and which explicitly rejects the errors of those on the wrong side, then in coming to this knottiest schism of schisms, and finding here once again an authority that is accepted on one side and rejected on the other explicitly rejecting the errors on the other side, it seems a reasonable inductive conclusion that, in the workings of divine providence, one would not expect to find every single fork in the road until now so clearly and unambiguously marked, only to find this last, most subtle, most difficult division of all not only NOT marked by any comparable sign, but falsely marked, with a false sign, and only a false sign, and the only such false sign on the road.

If that is the case — if every single step along the long, long road from the deepest heresy to full orthodoxy, from believing less to believing more, from rejecting more authority to submitting to more, leads to ever-increasing truth, and then that last step to Catholicism, to believing the most, to submitting the most, is false — if it is God’s plan that we should reject the solas and instead accept the authority of sacred tradition, and reject every conceivable christological, soteriological, and ecclesiological error and instead accept the authority of the councils, but then when it comes to Catholicism vs. Orthodoxy he wishes us simply to open our eyes and say to ourselves, “I don’t need any special authority on one side or the other of THIS one, I can see for myself that this Catholic stuff just ain’t right,” and solely on this basis to reject the authority of the pope — well, then, I can only say that God has baited the trap too well for such a simple sheep as myself. At every turn, every fork, the reward was on the same side; I’ve done no more than follow the road to the end.

And if that be the case, if the last step is a trap, then in humility and love I can only trust that he will judge me mercifully for falling willingly into his trap, being moved by desire to accept all of his authority and all of his truth rather than nearly all, to risk believing and trusting too much rather than too little.

Not to say, of course, that I wasn’t also persuaded by positive scriptural and traditional arguments for the papacy and the Catholic Church, or that I can’t or won’t argue my convictions on the merits. I was, I can, and I will. But in the end, as with receiving Jesus himself, it’s a leap of faith. One either makes it, or not. To me, to be Orthodox rather than Catholic is to fail to make that last leap of faith.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Teresa Heinz Kerry, Narnia, and revoltin' Red Sox fans

SDG here with a fascinating (if necessarily indelicate) article on the bumpy history of a number of expressions that many people use without any awareness and sometimes even without knowledge of their discreditable origins.

The author knows her onions, to use an an idiom that I’m reasonably sure has no secret etiology in perversity, and effectively references relevant usages from Teresa Heinz Kerry to Lyndon B. Johnson [NOT Larouche as previously noted — I need more sleep!] to C.S. Lewis. If you want to see how the dots are connected, you’ll have to read the article (though again consider yourself duly warned that the article contains, not surprisingly, some explicit language).

Side note for Sox fans: Although I’ve never really been much of a sports fan at all, I was born and bred in the shadow of NYC, so I should mention that when I do follow baseball at all, I generally tend to root more for the Mets than the Yankees. I’ve never really been into the vindictive glee that many New Yorkers take in the long, sad history of the Curse of the Babe. It’d be a’ight with me if y’all won a World Series sometime. That said, though, the final anecdote in this article, about a Sox fandom T-shirt, is so revolting that I now officially have no sympathy for y’all, and it’d be a’ight with me if you never won a World Series either.

Get the story

Teresa Heinz Kerry, Narnia, and revoltin’ Red Sox fans

SDG here with a fascinating (if necessarily indelicate) article on the bumpy history of a number of expressions that many people use without any awareness and sometimes even without knowledge of their discreditable origins.

The author knows her onions, to use an an idiom that I’m reasonably sure has no secret etiology in perversity, and effectively references relevant usages from Teresa Heinz Kerry to Lyndon B. Johnson [NOT Larouche as previously noted — I need more sleep!] to C.S. Lewis. If you want to see how the dots are connected, you’ll have to read the article (though again consider yourself duly warned that the article contains, not surprisingly, some explicit language).

Side note for Sox fans: Although I’ve never really been much of a sports fan at all, I was born and bred in the shadow of NYC, so I should mention that when I do follow baseball at all, I generally tend to root more for the Mets than the Yankees. I’ve never really been into the vindictive glee that many New Yorkers take in the long, sad history of the Curse of the Babe. It’d be a’ight with me if y’all won a World Series sometime. That said, though, the final anecdote in this article, about a Sox fandom T-shirt, is so revolting that I now officially have no sympathy for y’all, and it’d be a’ight with me if you never won a World Series either.

Get the story