My own opinion of Ray is mostly that he's kind of a lame apologist, but that he seems like a decent enough guy. If the rumors that he has a robot monkey are true then his stock goes up accordingly. On the other hand, some guy named David J. Stewart thinks that Ray is actually leading people to their eternal torment in hell. Stewart runs Jesus-is-Savior.com, and he's concerned that Ray is emphasizing acts over faith, thus guaranteeing that Jesus is going to stomp a mudhole in Ray and all of his followers after the time comes.
Granted, this whole acts vs. faith thing (Phrased simply: Do you get into heaven by way of good deeds, pure faith in Jesus, or both?) is among the most boring non-schisms in modern Christianity, but Stewart has banged out several pages about it, including two articles about Ray. (Here and here.) To my way of thinking, it's akin to asking if a Lawful Good fighter can equip a Holy Avenger +5 sword even though he isn't a paladin*, but apparently some Christian thinkers are incredibly interested in this topic. I suppose it is meant to be a matter of heaven vs. eternal doom, but jeeze.
By the way, don't mistake me for agreeing with Stewart here. Jesus-Is-Savior.com is a fiery quasi-Protestant site that reiterates, more shrilly and largely without cartoons, most of the positions that Ray himself takes. I'm just interested to see how one sanctimonious guy paints another sanctimonious guy from the same religion as leading people headlong into hell. I've not seen Ray talk about Stewart at all, though I have every reason to believe that he's aware of him, since I mentioned him on Ray's blog this morning (though that post seems not to have made it through the moderation process for some reason...)
Anyway, it seemed worth a giggle to me. I'd love to see a response from Ray, but I doubt one is forthcoming.
*The answer is yes, but he only gets a +2 bonus on attack and damage and doesn't radiate Protection From Evil.
Showing posts with label evangelism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label evangelism. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Just a bit more on the Power Team...
Here's an opinion piece about the Power Team I found that lays bare some interesting facts. Among them is that the Power Team has, within the last year, been performing in PUBLIC SCHOOLS and taking in taxpayer money for doing it. Aside from the absurdity of it, I have no problem at all with these guys performing to their (gigantic) heart's content at church functions or in private auditoriums, nor does it bother me that they take cash from religious folk. If you want to pay for these guys then by all means do it. Like I said before, they do some cool stuff. What bugs me is the idea of kids being forced to attend one of these witnessing events as a compulsory assembly at school while taxpayers are made to foot the bill. Now in the article above, the school districts in question ultimately showed good judgment and opted to cancel the Power Team's performances. How many other school districts have not made such a prudent choice?
Public schools should remain secular (and I don't mean atheistic here - there's a difference) when it comes to what they teach children. It is not the state's place to take any stance on religion whether in the school system or anywhere else. Doing so imperils the freedom of conscience that our founding fathers so wisely sought to secure for us. This is a point that is lost on some of the people I talk to and it makes me sad that they can't see the issue. Teaching evolution in schools rather than creationism is the right thing to do - it's science, not evil atheistic science, just plain science. There is no religious stance inherent in it, regardless of what some folks might have you believe. Creationism and it's trenchcoated pal Intelligent Design, on the other hand, are based on a specific set of religious assumptions - something the state has no business pushing on kids.
This is a fine distinction that is often very easily (or intentionally) blurred. Let me clarify with a somewhat different example: I would wholeheartedly support Richard Dawkins giving a talk about evolutionary biology at a public high school. I would be opposed to him giving a talk about The God Delusion at the same public high school.
I am an atheist, and I think that the world would be better off if religion had significantly less influence or disappeared completely. I also stand firm on the side of freedom of conscience, and I would no sooner desire that the state mandate atheism than I would submit to it mandating any religion.
Public schools should remain secular (and I don't mean atheistic here - there's a difference) when it comes to what they teach children. It is not the state's place to take any stance on religion whether in the school system or anywhere else. Doing so imperils the freedom of conscience that our founding fathers so wisely sought to secure for us. This is a point that is lost on some of the people I talk to and it makes me sad that they can't see the issue. Teaching evolution in schools rather than creationism is the right thing to do - it's science, not evil atheistic science, just plain science. There is no religious stance inherent in it, regardless of what some folks might have you believe. Creationism and it's trenchcoated pal Intelligent Design, on the other hand, are based on a specific set of religious assumptions - something the state has no business pushing on kids.
This is a fine distinction that is often very easily (or intentionally) blurred. Let me clarify with a somewhat different example: I would wholeheartedly support Richard Dawkins giving a talk about evolutionary biology at a public high school. I would be opposed to him giving a talk about The God Delusion at the same public high school.
I am an atheist, and I think that the world would be better off if religion had significantly less influence or disappeared completely. I also stand firm on the side of freedom of conscience, and I would no sooner desire that the state mandate atheism than I would submit to it mandating any religion.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The argument from total non-sequitur...?
I knew a couple of guys throughout middle- and high school who were really into Jesus. No, like really into Jesus. During college one of them entered China under false pretenses to evangelize while pretending to teach kids English - that's how into Jesus they were. They were nice guys and good friends, but they were probably the first really, really, really Baptist guys I ever met. They were the first people to ever relate to me, among other things, how "Dungeons and Dragons" is supposed to be evil.
They also introduced me to the Power Team.
At the time I wasn't used to the apologetic arguments typically made by Christians, I had essentially no grasp on Biblical criticism, and in general my interest in religion was nil. I was also like 14. I was already beginning to view my parents' Catholicism as hokey (Oh, that's something else these guys introduced me to - Catholics as non-Christians.) and I guess my two friends decided they were going to save my soul by giving me a flier for an upcoming performance of (dun-du-da-duh!) the Power Team!
Nope, that's not Hulk Hogan teamed up with the Macho Man (That's the Mega Powers, and as you'll recall they exploded at Wrestlemania V.) The Power Team is in fact a group of 19 (or so) really big dudes. Humongous even. They have lung capacities so mighty that they can explode a rubber hot water bottle by blowing it up like a balloon, forearms big enough to shear telephone books in twain, and heads hard enough to leap safely through huge blocks of ice. I know that because I'm watching them do it right now. What sets these guys apart from other really big dudes is that these really big dudes are, like my friends, really into Jesus.
Even as a kid, something about these guys bugged me just from looking at the flier, which was pretty much like this. What in the hell do really big, possibly juiced up, guys with swords have to do with whether or not the Bible is the inerrant word of God? What exactly does a guy being able to run through an outstretched 2 x 4 (or not) have to do with the veracity of his theological claims? Does it really make any difference? Or is it maybe the case that these gigantic guys come stampeding in to "upbeat Christian music", break a bunch of stuff, and then ask stupid teenagers to accept their God while they're still digesting the fact that one of these dudes just bench-pressed a tree trunk while laying on another guy who was laying on a bed of nails?
I didn't end up going to see the Power Team with my buddies. Something about it was just so absurd and hokey that even my feebly non-skeptical 14 year-old mind resisted it. I knew deep down that I wouldn't trust a guy to teach me math because he was great at basketball, and that same part of me was just slightly too on the ball to allow myself to be converted by a handful of buff guys based solely on their ability to lift heavy things and wreak destruction upon various breakables. The whole thing left me with a lot of nascent questions which, at the time, I couldn't quite form into really solids lines of thought.
Maybe, just maybe, seeing some guys perform admirable feats of strength lowers your resistance to detecting the silliness of the message that follows. Maybe their alleged "20% Salvation Response" rate (which is ambivalently portrayed on their website as maybe conversions and maybe increases in donations) is an artifact of catering to a predominantly Evangelical Christian audience to begin with. Indeed, perhaps the Power Team is really just for Evangelical folks who want to see a stunt show but can't bring themselves to watch worldly entertainment like "American Gladiators" or "Mortal Kombat Live". And perhaps, just perhaps, the tales on their site of mass religious conversions of, say, 57 of the Detroit Tigers (Are there really 57 people on a baseball team?) were something more along the lines of some of the players publicly affirming their religious affiliation in front of a supportive audience rather than accepted Christianity anew. I'll also have to try and get in touch with Chuck Norris to ask him if the Power Team was solely responsible for his "acceptance of Jesus", as they claim.
One way or another, I'm just not at all convinced that the strongest argument (or even a coherent argument) for Evangelical Christianity is going to be made by, well, the strongest Evangelical Christians.
Conversely, maybe if Sam Harris could bend a crowbar with his bare hands there would be more atheists. Or not.
They also introduced me to the Power Team.
At the time I wasn't used to the apologetic arguments typically made by Christians, I had essentially no grasp on Biblical criticism, and in general my interest in religion was nil. I was also like 14. I was already beginning to view my parents' Catholicism as hokey (Oh, that's something else these guys introduced me to - Catholics as non-Christians.) and I guess my two friends decided they were going to save my soul by giving me a flier for an upcoming performance of (dun-du-da-duh!) the Power Team!
Nope, that's not Hulk Hogan teamed up with the Macho Man (That's the Mega Powers, and as you'll recall they exploded at Wrestlemania V.) The Power Team is in fact a group of 19 (or so) really big dudes. Humongous even. They have lung capacities so mighty that they can explode a rubber hot water bottle by blowing it up like a balloon, forearms big enough to shear telephone books in twain, and heads hard enough to leap safely through huge blocks of ice. I know that because I'm watching them do it right now. What sets these guys apart from other really big dudes is that these really big dudes are, like my friends, really into Jesus.
Even as a kid, something about these guys bugged me just from looking at the flier, which was pretty much like this. What in the hell do really big, possibly juiced up, guys with swords have to do with whether or not the Bible is the inerrant word of God? What exactly does a guy being able to run through an outstretched 2 x 4 (or not) have to do with the veracity of his theological claims? Does it really make any difference? Or is it maybe the case that these gigantic guys come stampeding in to "upbeat Christian music", break a bunch of stuff, and then ask stupid teenagers to accept their God while they're still digesting the fact that one of these dudes just bench-pressed a tree trunk while laying on another guy who was laying on a bed of nails?
I didn't end up going to see the Power Team with my buddies. Something about it was just so absurd and hokey that even my feebly non-skeptical 14 year-old mind resisted it. I knew deep down that I wouldn't trust a guy to teach me math because he was great at basketball, and that same part of me was just slightly too on the ball to allow myself to be converted by a handful of buff guys based solely on their ability to lift heavy things and wreak destruction upon various breakables. The whole thing left me with a lot of nascent questions which, at the time, I couldn't quite form into really solids lines of thought.
Maybe, just maybe, seeing some guys perform admirable feats of strength lowers your resistance to detecting the silliness of the message that follows. Maybe their alleged "20% Salvation Response" rate (which is ambivalently portrayed on their website as maybe conversions and maybe increases in donations) is an artifact of catering to a predominantly Evangelical Christian audience to begin with. Indeed, perhaps the Power Team is really just for Evangelical folks who want to see a stunt show but can't bring themselves to watch worldly entertainment like "American Gladiators" or "Mortal Kombat Live". And perhaps, just perhaps, the tales on their site of mass religious conversions of, say, 57 of the Detroit Tigers (Are there really 57 people on a baseball team?) were something more along the lines of some of the players publicly affirming their religious affiliation in front of a supportive audience rather than accepted Christianity anew. I'll also have to try and get in touch with Chuck Norris to ask him if the Power Team was solely responsible for his "acceptance of Jesus", as they claim.
One way or another, I'm just not at all convinced that the strongest argument (or even a coherent argument) for Evangelical Christianity is going to be made by, well, the strongest Evangelical Christians.
Conversely, maybe if Sam Harris could bend a crowbar with his bare hands there would be more atheists. Or not.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
My pals Ray and L. Ron...
Believe it or not, I don't actually dislike Ray Comfort. He seems like a decent sort of fellow, and I'd probably trust him to watch the apartment if I was on vacation. He just happens to be staggeringly wrong about reality, though to all appearances he genuinely believes all the nonsense he spouts to be true. I'm even willing to attribute his truly heroic amounts of quote-mining to just having a bad handle on the process of academic writing. Also he's got that easy-going koala sort of look to him.*
On the other hand, L. Ron Hubbard was a malevolent huckster who I wouldn't trust not to pee on a public toilet seat just for kicks. While the argument could be made that by the end of his life he really did believe in his crazy pseudoscience/religion, it's pretty obvious that at the start he was just plain pulling it all out of his backside to see how far he could run with it. Plus he just plain looked creepy.
The problem here is, regardless of what I personally think of these two guys, their claims about reality were equally specious, and some of their methods for gaining converts are equally disingenuous. If you live in my area and you've ever picked up a LEO, then you've probably seen a Scientology questionnaire. If you hang around outside the humanity's building at U of L long enough it's also even money that someone will eventually hand you one. Pretty much the same thing goes for Ray's "Are You A Good Person?" test, though you're more likely to get it handed to you at the mysterious creationist booth at the regional flea market.
The best part about both of these tests is that you can't pass. Try it. You can take Ray's test at the link I gave above - the "right" answers should be obvious. You can take the Scientology Test here. I probably wouldn't put in my real name and address. The "correct" answers for that one are on the link from the last paragraph.
The results? Even with the BEST POSSIBLE ANSWERS, both tests are quick to point out how flawed and needy you are and how only their respective purveyors can help you. Ray and L. Ron's tactics are one and the same. They already know what they want to see in the people they purport to help - weak-minded, worthless people that can't be trusted to make their own decisions. What an arrogant and shallow view.
Sorry Ray, I'd trust you with my stuff, but not with my mind.
*For reference.
On the other hand, L. Ron Hubbard was a malevolent huckster who I wouldn't trust not to pee on a public toilet seat just for kicks. While the argument could be made that by the end of his life he really did believe in his crazy pseudoscience/religion, it's pretty obvious that at the start he was just plain pulling it all out of his backside to see how far he could run with it. Plus he just plain looked creepy.
The problem here is, regardless of what I personally think of these two guys, their claims about reality were equally specious, and some of their methods for gaining converts are equally disingenuous. If you live in my area and you've ever picked up a LEO, then you've probably seen a Scientology questionnaire. If you hang around outside the humanity's building at U of L long enough it's also even money that someone will eventually hand you one. Pretty much the same thing goes for Ray's "Are You A Good Person?" test, though you're more likely to get it handed to you at the mysterious creationist booth at the regional flea market.
The best part about both of these tests is that you can't pass. Try it. You can take Ray's test at the link I gave above - the "right" answers should be obvious. You can take the Scientology Test here. I probably wouldn't put in my real name and address. The "correct" answers for that one are on the link from the last paragraph.
The results? Even with the BEST POSSIBLE ANSWERS, both tests are quick to point out how flawed and needy you are and how only their respective purveyors can help you. Ray and L. Ron's tactics are one and the same. They already know what they want to see in the people they purport to help - weak-minded, worthless people that can't be trusted to make their own decisions. What an arrogant and shallow view.
Sorry Ray, I'd trust you with my stuff, but not with my mind.
*For reference.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
The arrogance of the "saved"
I have an older friend at work with a college-aged son who is, appropriately, away at college. He's back in town for New Year's and I happened to meet him as I was getting ready to head home from work on Friday. He was amicable enough, though I was keeping an eye on a number of (mentally disabled) clients at the time and couldn't really talk to him at length. Eventually, however, he noticed my copy of "The Faith Healers" by James Randi, which was sitting on my desk. He paused for a moment, then asked "well what have you learned from that book?"
He then informs me that "college" for him is actually the Honor Academy, a fundagelical ministry training school. I could instantly see where this was going, and I had no desire whatsoever to be witnessed to, especially not with both a group of clients and his mother around to force me to hold my tongue. Eventually I had to leave the room for a moment, and upon my return I found him paging through my book and frowning. To my amazement, he didn't immediately offer to return it when I entered the room.
A few moments passed and I had to escort some of the clients outside to their waiting caregivers. Shortly thereafter, out comes this fellow with my book. He finally hands it over while making far too much eye contact, we exchange pleasantries, and he wanders off. I then notice that he's pasted a sticky note to the inside cover of my book. Upon further inspection, it contains his e-mail, in case I "want to talk", and the URLs for a flotilla of fundie sites:
Way of the Master - Kirk Cameron and Ray Comfort's mutant love child. He was kind enough to note that "hi-speed" is required for this site.
Dr. Dino - Web home of pseudo-paleontologist Kent Hovind. His real home is jail.
Living Waters - Another Ray Comfort offering.
Delicious. This fellow has met me for all of 5 minutes and he's out to save my immortal soul. It's none of my business whatsoever if he's afraid of going to hell for not proselytizing enough, but the more I've thought about this the more it has galled me. Perhaps I'm being needlessly grumpy, but only my personal and professional respect for his mother has kept me from laying into him.
He then informs me that "college" for him is actually the Honor Academy, a fundagelical ministry training school. I could instantly see where this was going, and I had no desire whatsoever to be witnessed to, especially not with both a group of clients and his mother around to force me to hold my tongue. Eventually I had to leave the room for a moment, and upon my return I found him paging through my book and frowning. To my amazement, he didn't immediately offer to return it when I entered the room.
A few moments passed and I had to escort some of the clients outside to their waiting caregivers. Shortly thereafter, out comes this fellow with my book. He finally hands it over while making far too much eye contact, we exchange pleasantries, and he wanders off. I then notice that he's pasted a sticky note to the inside cover of my book. Upon further inspection, it contains his e-mail, in case I "want to talk", and the URLs for a flotilla of fundie sites:
Way of the Master - Kirk Cameron and Ray Comfort's mutant love child. He was kind enough to note that "hi-speed" is required for this site.
Dr. Dino - Web home of pseudo-paleontologist Kent Hovind. His real home is jail.
Living Waters - Another Ray Comfort offering.
Delicious. This fellow has met me for all of 5 minutes and he's out to save my immortal soul. It's none of my business whatsoever if he's afraid of going to hell for not proselytizing enough, but the more I've thought about this the more it has galled me. Perhaps I'm being needlessly grumpy, but only my personal and professional respect for his mother has kept me from laying into him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
