The thread on Hugh Ross (who is great in astronomy but lousy on almost anything else—and Rana’s book about Adam which is entirely laughable) made me think once again about what it is that makes Christianity true. Clearly, it is the resurrection, but it isn’t only that. It is CONCORDISM with the observable facts. If everything written about nature in the Bible is false, then one must begin to question whether the resurrection is real as well because a book that can’t get anything right must be doubted. Logic dictates that. Probability dictates that. How could one possibly believe a book which talks about non-existent people, non-existent empires, non-scientific concepts and then turn around and say that the thing teaches ‘true theology’?
Debbie Mann said some things which are believed by many in Christianity. She said:
>>>“'The Bible was written as an instruction book.' has been said many times.
But, the restatement seems completely different.
The Bible has perfect knowledge of man.”<<<
Now, one can believe what one wants but when someone says something categorical like this, one is tempted to ask, “What is the evidence for such an assertion that the Bible has perfect knowledge of man?”
Wouldn’t one require some concordance of data with that assertion? The fidiest wouldn’t; the skeptic would.
And when people say that the Bible teaches the true theology—how do we know that? What evidence can we muster to defend that belief? Such an epistemological situation reminds me of two cultures I have encountered over the past two months of travel in China.
I may be picking up again where I left this list, but the issue of how one can tell that the Bible is telling the truth about something is a very important epistemological issue even if many on this board don’t think it is important or chose to merely believe what they want regardless of the problems. Their disbelief doesn’t make the importance any less, especially if one doesn’t say apriori that Christianity is automatically true and therefore anything it says must be true. Because of this tautological approach to Christian apologetics, I have been interested in how to break out of the tautology.
Since I was last on this list, I have been to Xi’an (again), to Shekou (again), Shanghai, Lijiang (Yunnan province) and to Lhasa, Tibet. In these travels I have seen some incredible things. On my birthday, I had dinner with the Naxi people of Yunnan province. I was serenaded by the Na Xi (nashee), even though they personally don’t celebrate birthdays because such a day is a day of pain for the mother and who would celebrate that? They broke their rules for me. We had a cake my boss was kind enough to supply and all, both Naxi, Chinese, and westerners enjoyed the cake. I then had to sing a song for them and afterwords we danced Naxi folk dances. They are one of the most interesting people I have ever run into. March 4, 2006 was the first day I had heard of the Naxi. An article in the China Daily told about them. From that article, they believe the following:
>>> "Next Tuesday marks the Sanduo Festival of the Naxi people, which falls on the eighth day of the second month on the lunar calendar, and is equivalent to the Spring Festival of the Han people."
"On this day, the Naxi people gather at the Beiyue Temple at the foot of the Yulong Snow Mountains in Lijiang Prefecture for the festivities."
"The festival centres on Sanduo, a Naxi god of war. The handsome general is featured as wearing silvery armour and riding a pure white stallion at the Beiyue Temple which was founded in AD 770."
"The Naxis call on the Sanduo to protect them when faced with hardship."
"In the past, Naxis living outside their hometown have held simple gatherings to mark the occasion. But this year, Yang has brought Naxi folk artists to the nation's capital to join the Naxis in Beijing."
"The show has a fitting title - "Naxi Hua-hua-se." In Naxi language, "hua-hua-se" means many things such as happiness, auspiciousness, energy and vigour."
"The show begins with the "Genesis" of the Naxi people as recorded in the Dongba hieroglyphic scriptures."
"Chong-ren-li-en, the legendary father of the Naxi people. proudly announced:
"'I am the descendant of nine gods who created the sky'"
"'I am the descendant of seven goddesses who created the earth'"
"'I am the descendant of a people who climbed over 99 giant mountains and waded across 77 deep ravines without feeling tired..'"
"The verse, full of the spirit of a hero, has been chanted by the Naxis for generations and helped shape a unique and marvellous culture."
Liu Jun, "Feast of Naxi Culture to Mark Ethnic Festival," China Daily, March 4, 2006, p. 9<<<
But, more than that, they don’t get married. When a girl reaches 13, her parents build her a house. At night the boy of her choice can come over at night and sleep over. Before dawn, he must go home to his parents house. This continues throughout the relationship no matter how old the people are. The children are raised by the woman’s brother.
Frankly, the Naxi people with whom I had contact over the 4 days in Lijiang seemed quite well adjusted. The only quirk was that you addressed a lady as pan jie—fat girl. I guess, the question I am forced to ask is this: where are all those dire consequences to society which Christians say happens if one has this kind of lifestyle? Yet, we have all been told how this would be so bad. (don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it is good, but this place does challenge one’s beleif system.)
Then a month later, I went to Tibet. I may be one of the very few people in the world who can say that he when to Lhasa, Xizang (Tibet), P. R. China, on business. We had several meetings but we also got to tour the place for a few days After literally gasping for air and not sleeping the first night there, I began to observe a society which, as best as I can determine, is somewhat similar to what Medieval Christianity must have been like with regards to religious devotion.
The first interesting thing was noted in Beijing over the past year. Tibetans who sell things on the street or in the markets are always selling religious objects. But, I hadn’t known how pervasive this was. When we got to our hotel, checked in and then had time before dinner, I went out on the street. There were similar merchants lining the sidewalks around my hotel. They all were selling prayer wheels, prayer beads, religious masks, and religious tokens. I had a great time, speaking to them in Chinese and negotiating with them. Two of them told me “Wo ai ni”. I said the same back to them which brought laughter all around. (Wo ai ni means “I love you”) I was amazed and pleased at how they could understand my Mandarin. But concerning the religious objects, I commented to a friend that Tibet seemed to have an economy based upon the manufacture of religious objects. Of course that isn’t true, it is based upon farming, nomadism and mining. But there is no industry there. Like most mountainous regions of the world, industry is scarce. But religious objects must make a huge contribution to the economy. I purchased a beautiful prayer wheel. Little did I know how prevelant that little instrument would be.
Along the way from the airport to the hotel, we saw numerous houses (rather pretty houses) all with various colored flags on their tops. The guide explained that scriptures are written on the flags and the wind ‘reads’ them for them. Along mountainsides one can find these flags strung across windy places (even the mountain pass we crossed—see below). Much work goes into making and stringing these flags.
We went to the Dalai Lama’s summer home. We walked up to the door but I didn’t know it was the door. To the right of the door was a nook where people were standing in line to prostrate themselves before a statue. I stood and watched this for a while. The people had plastic handguides which they slid along the floor to protect their hands when they went from a standing position to a prostrate position.
Our guide said we had to go to the right to get to the temple. So we walked through a shopping area. What I didn’t notice at first was that everyone was walking the same direction as I. There were lots and lots of people walking with the prayer wheels, spinning them clockwise. What we learned eventually, was that we had just engaged in one of the rituals of Tibetan Buddhism. One can’t enter this temple without going around it, clockwise.
The temple was beautiful, we couldn’t take pictures. The candles were not candles as we know in the West. A golden (or brass, I am not sure) big chalice had several wicks in it. It was filled with a yellow substance which I learned was yak butter. The candles were wicks stuck in yak butter. Occasionally along with the anoxia I was experiencing, the smell and smoke was a problem for me to get a good breath. People kept coming by with a bag and a spoon and were spooning more butter into the brass receptacle. Some candle chalices were a pool of melted butter with lots of wicks with flames emerging from the liquid. I guess this is where the term ‘butter them up’ came from; the Tibetans are ‘buttering up Buddha’ and the other gods. In this first temple, monks walked through the walkways, clockwise, chanting to themselves. They were in quite a hurry to complete their circuits. We saw the same monks over and over as they overtook us.
The next day we went to Potala palace, a magnificent structure begun in the 8th century and finished in the 17th century. It was the 13th of May and that is a lucky day (don’t exactly understand why but it is, maybe every day is lucky or in need of clockwise orbital motion). Hundreds of people were walking clockwise around the palace, all twirling their prayer wheels clockwise. After breathlessly climbing the hill, and then steep steps and a ladder to the palace, we found ourselves in another set of temples filled with yak butter smoke. Room after room had statues of Buddha and other gods. Every nook and cranny was filled with statues. The guide patiently tried to tell us about this god or that god, and the other god. There were so many of them that my head was spinning. I told a friend that this was baseball cards for gods (my sarcasm couldn’t be restrained). People were bowing, praying and filling the buttercups before the various Buddhas and gods. Many people were chanting quietly as they walked along the halls.
The next day was Sunday the 14th and we drove 5 hours to see a holy lake. We passed over a mountain pass which was 17,028 feet high—I got my requisite picture with the stone which said in Chinese hai ba 5190 mi (5190 meters). In the picture behind me are more of those flags I spoke about earlier. Indeed, at the only rest stop along the way to this mountain pass, there was a place where lots of flags were attached to a central pile of rocks. After crossing this point (which is higher than any place in the lower 48) then we descended to the lake which is on a beautiful plain, elevation 4700 m (~15,500 feet). This exquisitely beautiful lake is surrounded by snow-capped mountains, one peak is over 7100 m tall ( 23,500 feet). The valley is filled with nomads who care for yaks and sheep. But, what was amazing was what we would find along the lake shore. As I said, this was a holy lake and along the shore were thousands of stones with carved inscriptions of Buddhist scripture written on them. Someone spent a lot of time carving stones.
This lake’s name is Namtso, but the guide, when speaking Chinese used the term ‘sheng hu’ Holy lake. While we were at the lake, we learned from our guide that people make long pilgrimages around the lake (I presume clockwise). The size of the lake is amazing. I suspect it would have taken 4 hours by car to drive at 60 mph along the southside of the lake I was on. It took an hour from the pass to the lake side alone so I have used that as a guide. I tell you this because for someone to walk around this lake would take quite a time and a lot of faith that what they are doing is what God wants.
On the way back from the lake we saw a guy prostrating himself on the highway. He would stand, put his hands together in prayer, then with those plastic hand protectors, he would lie down in the highway lane pointing towards Lhasa. Then he would stand and repeat the process. He moved out of our way when our bus came by (good thing, the thump, thump would have been disturbing). Our guide told us that many people make pilgrimages lasting several years from as far away as Chengdu (about an hour and 40 minutes by jet). This kind of dedication was last seen in Christendom in the Middle ages.
Along the way, the guide told us that in the 7th century there were 10 million Tibetans. Today only 2 million. We asked her why the population plummeted. Her answer was simple and blunt: Buddhism. It seems that after Tibet became Buddhist in the 7th century each family had to dedicate one son to Buddha. This meant one son from each family would be raised and educated by the monks. This would have two effects on the population, in my opinion. It would make everyone have an interest in giving money and food to the monastery to support their loved one. This ensured that the population supported the Buddhist social structure. Secondly, the wealth could be used to build and maintain political power. Thirdly, like it or not, it would keep the people poor. And fourthly, this would cause a population decrease.
At 18 the young man decided whether or not to become a monk (lama) for life. If he did, he would not marry. Now, I don’t know what percentage of 18-year-olds became monks, but it would only take 1 in ten to cause a population decrease. In a primitive farming society where on average slightly more than 2 children live to be adults anyway, the removal of one child in 10 from the reproductive pool would be eventually catastrophic. The guide said that the Tibetans were not sure that Buddhism was good for Tibet. I asked her why they would continue doing that if it was bad. She said each family no longer has to do that. But from the devotion I saw, one wonders. And I saw lots of men debating buddhist issues at one of the monasteries we went to.
During the tour one of the guides asked me what I thought of Tibet and Tibetans. I told her that the Tibetans I had spoken with (many of them speak Mandarin and could understand me) were very nice people, friendly and peaceful. I said that they have a right to live their lives as they want, and I am just an outsider but since she asked I would tell her what I thought. I told her that I saw too much twirling of the prayer wheels, walking around things, doing the flags and other things and that if there was a little bit less of that and a bit more doing business, the people would be richer. She seemed to understand it, but then she was college educated outside of Xizang(Tibet). But, she was still a devote Buddhist as I saw her making prayer signs before various statues.
I asked about a widely reported incident this month in which some of the supporters of the Dalai lama went into one of the temples to tear down statues to a god that made him feel uncomfortable. Apparently this is a god devoted to commercial business and this god has become increasingly popular as China has opened up to the outside world and the Tibetans have begun to get more money. Religion caused strife, even among the supposedly peaceful buddhists!
We visited a farming community where we were greeted with a ritual to sate the spirits. We each took a pinch of salt out of a basket, threw some to the sky, some to the earth, some we spread out horizontally for the air, and then we tasted it. Then we were welcomed into the village. The village used to be owned by the biggest Buddhist monastery. It was this village’s job to feed something like 10,000 monks. The thing that struck me was how hard it must have been to grow all that food for a bunch of monks who did nothing but debate all day. But then, it was part of their service to Buddha. Frankly, I don’t know how they did it. Today, they don’t have to do that. But Buddha still occupies a huge part of their lives—they know nothing different.
We got to see the home of a couple of people. They were small but nice and they looked comfortable. We were served yak butter tea (rather nasty stuff and I don’t recommend it) and some wheat alcohol(better and weaker than the Naxi variety which has a kick like a mule). And then a lady who was 60 and on who was 86 sang and danced Tibetan songs for us. This is a working farm. Out in the courtyard was a yak with a calf that had been born just that morning. Other people were working fields around this little village. Later in the day, we danced some traditional Tibetan dances with members of the town. They were quite similar to the dances I danced with the Naxi on my birthday in April, in Yunnam province a 1000 miles to the SE. They were all smiles, but this tourist visits do provide some much needed cash for the village which is used to educate the children, so I guess they should have been smiling.
Now, most of my adult life I have been very open to new cultural experiences, but I have been amazed at how this Tibetan experience has affected me. I see a society which is mired in poverty by choice—religious choice. They chose to do the following—spending too much time and money on:
1. prayer wheels
2. carving rocks
3. making and hoisting the flags
4. walking clockwise around things.
5. putting yak butter in candles.
6. on pilgrimages.
Christianity used to do this sort of thing and it was during the dark ages. Is this why they were called the dark ages?
This society also raises the fundamental question of what it means to believe one’s religion. There is no doubt these people believe they are doing the right and honorable thing. An outsider could not possibly convince them otherwise. Many parts of Tibet are still without roads, electricity etc. I talked to one man trying to help a county which is a weeks travel on horseback from the nearest highway. Such isolation means that they believe what their parents teach them and there is little doubt about their faith. One will not easily change the minds of those people in that county—they know nothing else. Clearly in Lhasa, our guides doubted a little, but they have seen more.
The questions I see are these:
1. Does belief itself justify one’s religious duties and obligations?
2. Does belief itself make the religion metaphysically true?
3. How does one recognize when one’s religion has become pathological? (I can honestly say that I found the Tibetan culture pathological)
4. Can we really say all religions are equal when some believe yak butter pleases God and we believe that the sacrifice of a God-man is what pleased God?
5. Can a modern Naxi who knows better than believe that her ancestor was descended from 9 gods claim that her religion doesn’t teach science but teaches the true theology????
6. Can a Naxi or Tibetan claim that the ancient religious world view was not to be taken literally but metaphorically and therefore it is intellectually OK to beleive what they do? (not that many today take it non-literally)
7. How does one determine religious truth when faced with what I saw and have seen in these places?
8. How did the West come to think of this Tibetan religion as being filled with such deep wisdom, when what I saw was not so wise (at least in my opinion—if they do have the true theology then my opinion is wrong and I will have to re-think my position on this in my next life while I am a yak—which might make thinking of these topics a wee bit more difficult).
9. And drawing this back to the issue dear to my heart, how can we say the Genesis doesn’t teach any historical or scientific truth but only teaches theological truth, when my dear Buddhist friends in Tibet would say that we are theologically deficient because we are not providing God with yak butter and service and because we don’t spin the prayer wheels, which represent the cycles of life? How do we tell them our ‘theological truth’ is the ‘real truth’ when we don’t even believe in re-incarnation (which if it is the truth, we are sadly and sorely wrong). In other words, without setting up a tautology where a priori, Christianity is declared true and made the standard by which all other theologies are judged, demonstrate that the theology of creation (or any part of Christian theology) is actually better and more true than Tibetan Buddhism.
In my mind, to do what I ask is impossible and that is why Genesis, in order to be true, MUST teach something real about nature. To divorce it from reality makes it no more real than yak butter.
Yak butter tea, anyone?
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.8 : Sat May 27 2006 - 09:17:58 EDT