A Conversation Between an Atheist and a Christian
by J. M. Beach & B. Patrick Williams  (2003)
Introduction


As it turns out the author’s of this book grew up in the same small town of Roseburg, Oregon and attended the
same high school, although Williams was several years older than Beach and their paths never crossed.  They both
made their ways to Oregon State University in Corvallis, Oregon, albeit through different directions: Williams joined
the Marine Corps and went off to the first Gulf War while Beach went straight to college.  As undergraduates,
Williams and Beach had crossed paths at OSU’s Dixon Recreation Center several times, but remained no more than
mere acquaintances.  

During their studies at OSU both Williams and Beach attended lectures and classes by the Philosophy and Religion
professor Marcus J. Borg.  Both were highly taken by Borg’s pristine prose, clear and scholarly lecture style, and his
generous and deeply spiritual attitude towards life.  Williams completed a B.A. with a double major in Philosophy
and History, and then went on to an M.A.I.S. in English and Philosophy.  Beach had completed a B.A. in English with
a minor in History, an M.A. in English and then went on to an M.A.I.S. in English, History, and Philosophy.  In 2000,
unbeknownst to the two graduate students, Borg had signed on to both Williams’ and Beach’s M.A.I.S. committee
and Williams and Beach were also both graduate teaching assistants in the English department.  

It was not until Spring Term 2002 that Williams and Beach first met and began to talk of their similar preoccupation
with religion and society.  Beach was originally working on a highly critical and creative work on the historical Jesus
and the evolution of Christianity (later, Beach had to change his focus because of his committee).  Williams’ thesis
The Way In was a collection of interviews with evangelical Christians.  As it turns out, Williams’ father in Roseburg
had converted to Evangelical Christianity.  He began attending the fundamentalist church of Beach’s youth (Beach
and his family had attended the church from its very beginnings - for over a decade - and both of Beach’s parents
had held leaderships roles in that church).  Also, Williams had interviewed Beach’s former Evangelical Christian
Pastor, who appears in Williams’ thesis.

After first meeting, Williams and Beach had a few conversations, but became friends in Fall 2002 when they were
both awarded a 1-year Instructor position in the OSU English department and shared an office in Moreland Hall.  
Here Williams and Beach began a series of long discussions, which spilled over into e-mail.  Beach impressed upon
Williams the need to be informed and up to date about current affairs and Williams began subscribing to The Nation
and The Economist, whereby, these two young and eager intellectuals began a protracted, but entirely sympathetic
debate – drawn together by common interests and a shared commitment to critical inquiry.  In the Fall of 2003
Beach suggested that they tease out their debate into a more formal, argument/response book.  Williams accepted
and recommended a personable, conversation-style.  This is the fruit of their labor.              



What ideology animates your life and how did you come to this ideology?

Essay 1  -  J. M. Beach: "The Atheist"

My parents were raised in the typical non-practicing, but professing Christian home, however, they were both fairly
liberal children of the 60s and they were married just a few months before I was born.  They became evangelical
Christians when I was about 6 years old.  I remember because not long after I was “invited” to a Vacation Bible
School at a neighbor's house where I was introduced to Jesus through a color-coded book (red=blood,
black=death/sin, white=life).  I don’t remember too much more except that after “accepting Jesus into our heart” we
were given candy.  I do distinctly remember the candy.

Well my parents proceeded to become involved with the Calvary Chapel Church, a fundamentalist, non-
denominational Christian sect.  Every Sunday and Wednesday our pastor read through the Bible, chapter by
chapter, and I was taught to have a “relationship” with Jesus who was my “personal” savior.  All I had to do was
accept him into my heart, make him “Lord of my life,” read the Bible, pray and go to church.  Simple.  Of course the
byline was, as my eager and perhaps over-zealous father would instruct me, that everyone who did not “accept”
these simple premises would burn in hell for eternity.  Stray just a bit from the straight and narrow and you would
burn in hell.  Thus, for me Christianity was a dualistic mix of unconditional love and a relationship with my “personal
savior” combined with a nagging fear of burning in hell for eternity if I ever strayed from the narrow path.  

Well, I was never one for narrow paths, what can I say?  Not that I was some demon child or aggressively wicked,
but I was interested in all the things the world had to offer (and of course “worldly” interests, I was instructed,
meant the exact opposite of the “heavenly”).  I was interested in movies, books, music, friends, parties, drinking,
drugs, history, girls and sex.  Of course all this was off limits.  In fact my father would regularly destroy (break,
throw away, burn) any “non-Christian” items in my position and in doing so he was preventing Satan’s inroads into
his house (or so I was told).  

I was a decent kid, don’t get me wrong, but after getting sent to the principle’s office in 6th grade for talking about
sex and Dr. Ruth, my parents began to get concerned.  I made it a month or two into 7th grade when they decided I
would be home schooled for my own good.  My parents knew I was a respectable kid and they were concerned
about the pernicious influences that I would encounter: a course in Greek mythology (covert for liberal “devil
worship”) or the inevitable question, “can I go to a Halloween party at a friends house” (a parents-are-away-
drinking-and-mingling-with-girls party) to which I was informed, in case I had forgotten, that Halloween was the
“devil’s holiday” and that those people at the party would be going to hell because….  Well, because of my parent’s
fears and my proclivity for worldly snares, I was home schooled.  I hated it.

For two and a half years I read the Bible (all told I’ve read that book cover to cover at least 3 or 4 times), took
courses in “Bible study”, took general subjects like math and English, and during this time I had no social life except
for church functions.  Then before I knew it I was off to high school.  But this trajectory was not inevitable.  The day
my parents dropped the news that I was to be home schooled I promptly informed them I hated the idea.  But after
realizing I could not avoid this sentence I made an angry ultimatum: eventually I would go to high school or I would
run away.  It never came to this, my parents graciously prepared me for public schools again, and sure enough I
made it to high school.  I was your average kid, once I started to have a social life again, and I slowly began to
move away from the church and become more interested in friends, girls, sports, parties and alcohol.  By my senior
year I was not going to church every Sunday, but I was partying at least 2 nights a week.  

After graduation I spent a year at the local community college on a scholarship, partying a lot and pulling in mostly C
and B grades.  My sophmore year I made it north to Oregon State University.  I spent my first year away from home
with some high-school pals as roommates.  I loved the freedom of being on my own and I lived it up partying at
least 3 nights a week (indulging in all sorts of debauchery and wildness) and sometimes we partied all week.  
Needless to say school was not my focus and I got my first F winter term – academic probation.  Spring term was a
watershed period.  I took some English classes to get my grade point up so I wouldn’t get kicked out of school.  I
found I loved my classes and I actually wanted to learn.  So I switched majors, my third in two years, and my life
began to change.

I moved into my own place junior year and I became a dedicated student.  I partied only a couple nights a week
(the weekend) and spent my week studying and working part-time.  The summer after my junior year, taking a
summer-school course in French, I met a naturalized Brit named Ben (a practicing alcoholic and semi-practicing
Buddhist) and Garon (a black football player and struggling Christian who would soon convert to Islam).  I was a
former party-animal turned serious student who hadn’t rejected Christianity, but hadn’t really given it much though
either.  The three of us had intense conversations over that summer continuing through our senior year.  We
discussed politics, religion, morality, philosophy, history – you name it.  Ben the Buddhist soon tired of talking and
went off to Thailand to study Buddhism and work at a school for handicapped orphans.  Garon joined the Peace
Core and went to Africa.  I turned to graduate school.  Our conversation stopped, but I was still burning for
knowledge.

Turning away from both consumer American society and Evangelical Christianity, I embarked on a passionate
journey into the meaning of life.  I wanted to know all about history, religion, philosophy, literature, psychology, and
politics.  I new as sure as anything that I was not a Christian anymore and I new Christianity was not the “one and
true religion,” however, I didn’t know if God still existed and what to make of other religions so I decided to find
out.  I read insatiably.  I studied anything that I could get my hands on.  Working toward my MA, I was an almost
straight A student and hungry for knowledge.  I also had my first semi-mystical experience when studying William
Blake: a feeling of total bliss and one-ness with the world came over me as I took Blake’s line “everything that lives
is holy” to heart.  This would be the first of many epiphanies, arcane glimpses into the nature of life and being, and
would become a cornerstone in my evolving life philosophy.

During grad school I became involved with some very radical students, I began to be very politically aware, and I
started a subscription to The Nation so that I wouldn’t be ignorant about the world any longer.  Soon thereafter I
had finished reading many of the works by Blake, Albert Camus, Shelley, Emerson, Chomsky, Zinn, Ginsberg,
Whitman and, light of all lights for me at that time, Nietzsche.  God did not exist, religion was sham, I was an atheist
and I knew why.  I had read and thought so much that I was now able to piece together my own developed life-
philosophy.  Part Nietzsche, part Marx, part Camus, part psychology, part poetry: I was a humanist who believed
that all ideas and all ways of life were constructs created by human beings in fumbling attempts at greater self-
consciousness and greater socio-political efficiency mixed with extreme bouts of vanity, selfishness, laziness and
greed.  The meaning of life was to discover your “self” and create your own meaning, live a passionate and full life in
relation to both community and nature, and then die.  Simple.

Of course when I told my father that I was an atheist he told me I “worshiped Satan,” I was a “crazy liberal,” and
that I was “going to hell.”  Thanks dad.  Combine this incident with news of conservative, fundamentalist Christians
killing abortion doctors, beating and berating gays, browbeating anyone who did not profess to “believing in Jesus”
fused together with my growing knowledge of the history of intolerant and blood-stained Christianity, and I became
one angry atheist.  But I new my anger was a liability and wouldn’t solve anything so worked on a more conciliatory
tone.  I could of course acknowledge that no one can “prove” that God doesn’t exist (and I can take an agnostic
stance with gracious company for good conversation), but the burden of proof is on the person who professes belief
and not on the doubter.  Bigfoot, aliens, and a living Elvis might all be true, but I’m not buying it until the evidence is
in.  About this time I wrote a poem called “The Atheist Saints.”  It pretty much summed up my life philosophy and
attitude at the time: part spirituality, all materialism, tied together with a deep reverence for life and a
preoccupation with addressing and treating the human condition.

I am an atheist saint and not ashamed to doubt God face to face,
For divine I AM, most holy my flesh and blood intertwined
To form the nebulous soul, which is no soul but my own
Identity tried and worn until it fits, and I know it.

The sacred I step in and out every day on my way through Life,
To see into the deep of things and say, "it is good."  Come feel
The wounds in my hands of hard work building paradise, and
Come feel my side pierced by ignorance and human frailty.

Nirvana is my porch overlooking the starry expanse where I rest
Gazing out the whole, Eden is my garden grown wild and
Bearing untamed fruit not out of reach for those who dare,
Atman is my centered frame of mind knowing perfect parts in Unity.

I spend hours of devotion in the Vedas no less than the Kabbalah and
The Bible rests against the Koran in peaceful order.  The prophet
Mohammed and Isaiah are no more prophets than I am a prophet,
And what they had to say I have to say in a new tongue for new ears.

Come my friends and rest on my lap and I will tell you tales
Of God's birth and death, of human arrogance and hatred,
Of bloody coups and usurped thrones and the faded outward
Glory of cowards and tyrants crowned, of all that's past and future borne.

Touch my flesh and know your flesh the same, taste my knowledge
And my love to leave or take as your inclination leads,
Speak divinity with conviction and a god you will become to walk
Your Way through this illusionary world with grace and humility.

Saints and sinners we stand bearing our own redemption in our hands
To wash away all hints of impurity through the fires of trial and triumph.
Walk boldly, do not look back upon the burning cities of the fearful.
Walk boldly and lead by example your inner divinity.

As to the animating “ideas” in my life, I would have to say that I have been on a quest to know what it means to be
a human being.  Along the way I have discovered that inequality, ignorance, hatred, greed and superstition keep
millions and millions of people from ever discovering their own humanity and that a privileged minority would like to
keep things this way because they profit off the status quo.  Thus I have dedicated my life to teaching people
“humane” being by understanding human history and studying in human needs and potential.  Through this process
I would like to make people more aware of the fragility of humanity in the face of corrupt conservative politics,
inequality, injustice, war, nuclear weapons, pollution and the destruction of the environment.  I have come to
mistrust and fear the human being: the savageness of humanity as real as the human capacity to love.  I fear for
the future.  Nuclear holocaust, American Imperial wars and environmental catastrophe are all possible outcomes of a
species that often falls to “burning the future to keep warm.”  The fate of the human species rests on the decisions
of our generation.  I for one have not shirked my responsibility and thus everyday is a quest for new knowledge,
new understanding, and an open and honest perspective to “see” the world and meet the needs of my time in
history.


Conversation


Williams:  I enjoyed this. It’s no wonder that you would be alienated from Christianity given your father’s hostility
to your interests and personal space. It strikes me that your father embodied a religion of controlling judgment and
not the self-transcending love central to authentic Christianity. Also, I celebrate your desire to learn so as to better
yourself and humanity in general. Proposing this dialogue is certainly evidence of that.

On pages 3-4, you declare you realized “I was not a Christian anymore,” and that you realized that Christianity is
not the “’one and true religion.’” On page 5, you relate that you “became one angry atheist.” What are the reasons
for your departure from Christianity and your subsequent embracing of atheism? In the former case, you relate the
study of “history, religion, philosophy, and politics” as a precursor to your having abandoned Christianity. Regarding
the latter, you cite “news” of atrocities perpetrated in the name of Christianity – “fundamentalist Christians killing
abortion doctors, beating and berating gays,” etc. Thus, it sounds like you were influenced by the negative actions
of a small number claiming to be Christians who are not real Christians at all. Christians are those who perceive
Christ as Lord/Savior; as such, they aspire to follow the teachings and example of Christ. The examples you cite are
not of true Christians, but extremists committing atrocities in the name of Christianity. How has this small group of
violent extremists caused you to reject the reality of God in general and your prior Christian faith in particular?

Beach: The point you raise is an interesting one and I think I would disagree with your assertion about who “true
Christians” are.  To be honest I have my own opinion on this matter, which is quite different from yours and we
could argue between who holds the “true” understanding of Christianity.  The notion of identity and subjectivity is a
tricky one and I would argue “authenticity” is a hard item to hold on to.  I am reminded of the Post-Modern relativist
Stanley Fish who has argued quite successfully in literary and legal circles that “interpretive communities” see what
they want to see when it comes to relating to reality and interpreting texts.  I would disagree that this is inevitable,
but I would argue that people who ascribe to religious creeds are a prime example of this phenomenon.  

I would argue that Jesus never thought he was “God” or a “savior” and that his early followers, primarily I’m
thinking of Paul, “misinterpreted” Jesus’ life and message to suite their own purposes.  Thus the four divergent
“Christ” centered gospels, which authors like Crossan have argued are clearly late additions to the oral tradition
surrounding Jesus.  This set the precedent for a long line of “see what you want to see” interpretations of
Christianity, but the fact is that this particular ideology became a state religion (Rome, Europe, England, and the U.
S.) and thus by extension is guilty of intolerance and bloodshed.  Christianity has sanctioned slavery and racist
propaganda just as much as it has sanctioned peace and love.  

In America we have had a similar phenomenon to the German Reformation.  Just like you, Luther wanted to believe
that he had found the “true” interpretation of Christianity, but in fact for the next several hundred years all Luther
managed to do was create a war of words over who had the exact handle on the “truth,” when in reality there is no
way any one organization can establish an orthodoxy without some measure of force.  Thus the more radical
protestant sects left the old world for the new only to bring their intolerant “we have the true and only
interpretation” with them.  These protestant sects were especially hard on the Native Americans.

Regardless, The Bible can be interpreted in many ways.  Yes, I would agree with you that Jesus teaches “love your
neighbor” and “do not judge,” but Paul teaches “judge your neighbor” and his own brand of exclusive Christology.  
Likewise, I would argue that the Old Testament God is a genocidal monstrosity, which only adds to the viciousness
of the current struggle in Palestine: The Bible clearly teaches the elect to exterminate the “heathen” and “conquer”
the promise land by force.  We still feel the reverberations of this dangerous credo.  Likewise, there is a clear
mandate that homosexuals are an “aberration” to God.  Absolute dogmatic nonsense.  After studying history I
refused to belong to any institution guilty of genocide.  Clearly, Christianity has its hands stained in blood.  Yes,
there are many enlightened Christians who practice a benevolent and tolerant faith, but their sacred book The Bible
also justifies the bigots like Pat Buchanan and Jerry Farwell.   

Williams: You write of Christianity “that this particular ideology became a state religion (Rome, Europe, England,
and the U.S.) and thus by extension is guilty of intolerance and bloodshed. Christianity has sanctioned slavery and
racist propaganda just as much as it has sanctioned peace and love.”  How do you define Christianity? Prior to the
above quoted passage, you assert that you and I would disagree in our definitions, but you do not follow this with
an explicit definition.

Beach: Yes, a clarification is in order.  Like I said, I don’t think Jesus thought he was “God,” I think this is a later
insertion of the oral tradition surrounding Jesus after his death.  The same thing happened to Buddha and has
happened to just about every saint or holy person: nostalgia raises the human to divine levels.  Utter nonsense.  
Anyway, Paul powerfully inserted “Christ” into the message and life of Jesus, which produced “Christ”ianity.  
Christianity was at first a small, community oriented religion, which was persecuted by the Roman authorities and
then became as State religion.  It has been a State religion ever since and, thus, for “authentic” or “true” definitions
of Christianity you must seek to know how the religion exists in relation to the specific socio-political-economic
circumstances of whatever secular state it operates in, and the definition alters through historical evolution.  In
terms of the contemporary U.S. we see a radical, evangelical organization that overwhelmingly supports Republican
politics, thus, Christianity in the U.S. is closely aligned with Republican issues and in some cases the Republican
party is but a mouthpiece for conservative Christian issues: school prayer, i.e. Christian prayer; government support
of religious institutions, specifically Christian (education & social work); the ten commandments as a moral and legal
code; evolution as heresy and Christian “creationism” as science; homosexuality as abhorrent, immoral and un-
human; abortion as immoral in all circumstances; premarital sex as immoral, thus, teaching abstinence in schools;
and the most pernicious policies have been issues relating to immigration (specifically with Mexico);
globalization/foreign trade policies, which reflect an implicit racism (i.e. its o.k. to shamelessly exploit non-white,
third world countries in the false name of “development.”); and finally foreign policy where U.S. policy makers have
turned 9-11 and the war on terrorism into a “class of the civilizations” and a “war on Islam,” and also the religious
right’s sweetheart, one-sided dealing with Israel in their aggressive war on Palestine.  Thus, my definition of
Christianity in contemporary America is what I have just laid out.  It is very close to the hypocrisy of Republican
politics.  I know you would disagree with me here, but I would say that the tolerant and politically critical
“Christianity” that you as an individual practice is a minority sect within the geo-political landscape.  There is a
reason why the “Christian Right” is a powerful political entity.  In my opinion, the “true” nature of Christianity in the
U.S. lies there.

Williams: O.K. but I want to go back to your first argument.  I discern both a positive and negative element to your
discussion of a “bloody” Christianity. First, the “positive” element – you raise the important concern of Christianity’s
affiliation with certain atrocities over the years (I’m thinking of the crusades and the inquisition). You do not name
the atrocities, but I think we all (Christians and non-Christians) need to own up to times when certain institutions
have been involved with evil activity. As a Christian, I feel this very strongly, and I think even as I would understand
atrocities like the crusades to be perpetrated by those not acting as true Christians, I think Christians must be
aware of such terrible activities given they were carried out in the name of Christianity.  But also the “negative”
element - you are extremely general while making severe charges. You have not clearly identified what you
understand Christianity to be, and then you have impugned it without being specific as to how Christianity is
responsible for the wrongs you allege. Further, you have answered my earlier question about the role of violent
extremists in your loss of faith by switching subjects and focusing on a completely different matter (over a thousand
years of history containing numerous complex social, political, and historical events). Please be specific in your
definition of Christianity and how/why you see Christianity as guilty of “intolerance and bloodshed” and having
“sanctioned slavery and racist propaganda.” How is Christianity responsible for these wrongs? Finally, you have
identified both loving and hateful actions as being carried out by those affiliated with Christianity. I return to my
original question: “How has this group of violent extremists caused you to reject the reality of God in general and
your Christian faith in particular?”  You assert: “After studying history I refused to belong to any institution guilty of
genocide. Clearly, Christianity has its hands stained in blood.” Whose hands are stained in blood? I am a practicing
Christian, and I do not know of anyone who attends my church who is guilty of genocide. I myself am not guilty of
genocide. Please explain specifically how “Christianity” is guilty of genocide, and how that guilt relates to Christians
today.

Beach: First let me say that the German Protestants said the same thing during Hitler’s reign, but Dietrich
Bonhoeffer realized that where the Christian church did not stand up to murder and oppression they where guilt
also.  Thus pastor Bonhoeffer felt compelled to take the drastic step of trying to assasiante Hitler.  Likewise, the U.S.
military made the decision to fire-bomb German cities and kill hundreds of thousands of German civilians and Truman
made the decision to drop the H-bomb on Japan and kill hundreds of thousands.  We Americans all share the guilt of
these actions.  Also, the U.S. military has been responsible for aggressive wars and exploitative global economic
policies for 150 years and you better believe that a great many people on this planet hate Americans and see the
general U.S. population as guilty of the crimes committed in their interest and in their name: thus Sept 11, 2001 was
a warning to the American people about the crimes of U.S. foreign policy.  One final example: Sweatshops and the
global exploitation of corporate America.  All Americans benefit from goods produced in intolerable circumstances and
a large sector of agricultural and factory work within our borders are done by laboring slaves who, because they are
mostly illegal aliens, are treated with dehumanized work and wages.  It’s called “systemic injustice.”  If you are part
and benefit from the “system” then you share in the guilt, even if your hands are not “bloody.”  I would refer you to
Richard A. Horsley’s book Jesus and the Spiral of Violence (1987) for reference on how Jesus dealt with systemic
injustice.   

My answer is complicated and theory driven, and it is something that I have devoted a great deal of length to in my
books Studies in Ideology, but let me attempt a brief summary.  Institutions are social structures that have a specific
“party-line” (dogma) and a rigid definition of “identity” usually based on an exclusionary language of “us/them.”  But
within institutions there are individuals who have the ability to shape orthodoxy through challenging or revising the
“party line,” and there is the inevitable “outside” influence where the institution changes through time due to the
evolutionary course of history.  Christianity is an institution with a basic party line, but the Protestant dogma of “a
personal faith” has really challenged the authority of an orthodox and unified Christian Institution (thus the
Catholic/Protestant wars for hundreds of years in Europe).  The fallacy of the non-denominational, Evangelical
Christianity of present day American is that somehow it represents the “one-true” essence of Christianity and that it
is an almost “timeless” tradition based on nostalgic premises of a “personal relationship” with “Jesus” and “God,”
when in fact this belief, this dogma, is just another “sect” vying for social power in a socio-political landscape.  

When the word “Christianity” is invoked one must bear and accept the full historical weight of that institution and
not just pick and choose what they think “Christianity means to me” which is the Evangelical-Fundamentalist fallacy.  
My opinion is that Institutions have historical baggage that cannot be ignored or explained away.  The past
intimately effects the present however much our generation is ignorant of that past.   Thus, Christianity in my
definition means, the “conservative Right,” the Republican party, the “moral majority,” or whatever term is taken to
explain the political consequences of Christianity in terms of concrete historical policy and actions (as I mentioned
earlier in the above response).  

Personally Patrick, I think that you have an admirable definition of Christianity in light of your progressive political
opinions.  I also think that Marcus Borg has an admirable definition of Christianity, which is different from yours, but
which also has progressive and equitable political consequences.  However, I subscribe to the radical opinion that
the world needs to clear away the “old” clutter of established ideas, institutions, and blood-stained history
(Christianity included) to re-forge a new definition of human being and, thereby, create new institutions that are
free of the tyranny of history, that set up a new foundation based on the progressive ideals that you, I, Marcus Borg
and many others share, but which we cloth in different shades of ideological terminology – terms, which are based
upon our past, individual experiences and our associations with the established institutional party-lines.   

Williams: On page 4, you cite a “semi-mystical experience” you had prior to attending graduate school. Can you
write more about what that experience was like in particular? What is the source of this mystical experience? Where
were you when it happened? How long did it last? What did you see? Feel? Taste? What specifically changed about
the way you saw the world after this experience? What did you learn from it? Do you really believe that “’everything
that lives is holy’”?

Beach: The first time I had a mystical experience it was after a long study of William Blake, the great Christian
radical and mystic poet.  I had also been studying indigenous traditions and Native American Philosophy as well as
Evolutionary Biology.  I came to the realization that yes “everything that lives is holy” by which I mean, everything is
part of the great web of life feeding into the unified biosphere – an ecological perspective of the plant Earth.  I think
I agree with “Gaiya hypothesis” that the Earth is one living organism, each part somewhat autonomous but feeding
and nourishing the whole.  Human beings have the capacity to be stewards over this living organism, but we have
rejected our “connection” with the Earth, other species, and even with other human peoples.  We are an animal
that has a strong capacity to dominate and destroy and given our technology an intolerant, exploitive attitudes we
have the capacity to destroy all life on this planet.  

Anyway, I had a mental visualization of this great web of life and myself as part of that web.  It was a feeling of
oneness and connection with all that lives.  I lost my ego and felt no real barrier between the world outside the
doors of my perception and my conscious body.  For a long time I thought this notion of oneness meant I could not
kill or use other organisms (I was a vegetarian for several years), I should do no harm, but after reading indigenous
philosophies I agreed that killing is a natural part of existence, but we should not kill or use more than we need and
that we should live simple, community/earth centered lives where humans are not more important that other
species and, thus, have no right to exploit the earth or other species for profit.  My mystical experience was
exceptionally human and I affirmed my humanity by agreeing to work for the common good of the planet.     

Williams: Thank you for elaborating on your mystical experience reading Blake. It sounds fascinating and powerful.
And yet, what really strikes me is that you conclude: “My mystical experience was exceptionally human and I
affirmed my humanity by agreeing to work for the common good of the planet.” While I certainly don’t want to take
anything away from your motivation to work for the well-being of the planet, I’m struck by the fact that your
experience does not sound “exceptionally human” at all. Quite the contrary, your experience sounds very much
trans-human. Based on your description, it appears that the boundaries between what separate you from the rest
of the earth fell away to leave you closely interconnected with all beings and things. This “web of life” you describe,
if real, suggests a different level of reality, a non-material level, that is real yet imperceptible according to our normal
5 senses. How do you understand this?

Beach: I would disagree and say that what I affirmed was material reality in its fullest sense.  So much of what we
take for “human” life on this planet is really ideologically driven nonsense, which obscures our ability to see life.  Our
linguistic and cultural constructions create blinders and what I affirmed in my mystical experience (and reconfirmed
after reading Nietzsche) was the throwing off as best I could of those established, institutional linguistic and cultural
constructions so that I could see and experience the raw reality of existence.  Doubtless this sounds contrived and
constructed in its own sense, but my experience was a getting under and over human experience in the
Nietzschiean sense.  Humans get caught in their humanly constructed webs of social structures, institutions,
religions, economic modes of production, etc.  My mystical experience was one where I felt released from human
entrapment, to see the bonds of being human, but also to see the material reality underlying the human condition
so as to understand the human condition in a greater, material context, by which I mean the contextual “non-
human” elements that surround human society.     

Williams: You showcase your concern with “conservative, fundamentalist Christians” and “conservative politics.”
Thus, your focus seems a very selective one, locating evil in a fundamentalist form of extremist Christianity and in
conservative politics (both American). There are many other evils in the world in addition to those perpetrated by
these two groups. For instance, terrorism connected to Islamic extremists is a much more frequent and violent
phenomena than the incidences of abortion doctors killed by fundamentalist Christian extremists (c.f. Algeria,
Indonesia, Sudan, Israel). And, while conservatives in the USA may be reprehensible, their evils pale compare to the
routine police state jailing and torture that appear in China or North Korea. Why have you chosen to focus on
fundamentalist Christian extremists and conservative politics?

Beach: For one, because they are examples I see every day.  They exist in my backyard, as it were, and thus my
challenge is not to change the world, but my own life and my own backyard.  I do not believe in the concept of evil.  
I believe in the empirically proven concept of cause and effect, of actions and consequences, a non-dogmatic form of
Karma if you will.  Fundamentalism takes many forms, but the most destructive forms have been Imperial
fundamentalism and religious fundamentalism, which often go hand in hand.  The Imperial ideologies of Europe and
America have the blood of billions of people and the destruction of the environment as their legacy.  Bomb throwing
Muslims are a product of indiscriminate oppression and murder.  Why is it that the news covers mostly the
indiscriminant retaliatory crimes of Islamic fundamentalists?  Israeli bulldozers have torn down innocent Palestinian
houses often killing those who cannot or will not get out of the way, Israeli snipers have killed Palestinian children,
Israel settlers take land that they do not own and build fortified compounds.  This does not justify Palestinian
suicide bombers, but it sure as hell causes individual Palestinians to strap on bombs and retaliate.  Likewise with 9-
11.  Does the average American have a clue about the millions of innocent civilians our proud military has killed in
the last century?  We killed some 500,000 Iraqi children just through a decade of sanctions.  Nothing justifies that
horrendous cruelty.  George Bush Sr. made a calculated decision to leave Sadam Hussein in power after the first gulf
war, but no one blames him for Sadam’s supposed “urgent” threat to humanity.  I have written extensively on many
types of fundamentalism, but my main focus will always be America because that is where I live and if I hope to
change the world it will be here, attacking the bigots in my backyard.  

Williams: You write: “ I do not believe in the concept of evil. I believe in the empirically proven concept of cause and
effect, of actions and consequences, a non-dogmatic form of Karma if you will.” What do you mean by this? Why don’
t you believe in the concept of evil?  I understand evil to be the self-interested harming of others for self-benefit.
One of the things I like and respect about you is your concern for others and your desire to help others. This is
apparent in your opposition to what you perceive to be harmful and dangerous such as Bush administration policies
that oppress others.  Don’t you accept that there can be harmful and self-interested actions that merit the label
“evil” (as opposed to using neutral terms like “cause and effect”)? What about acts like the cannibal murders of
Jeffrey Dahmer? What about the 6 million Jews killed in the Holocaust, the 35 million killed in Stalin’s purges, the 25
million killed in Mao’s cultural revolution? I find it hard to describe such activities without the concept of evil.

Beach: I think we must choose to disagree here.  Personally, I think the word and idea of “evil” is a remnant of
religious thinking which needs to be left behind.  Specifically, look how political opportunists like George W. Bush use
the concept to declare world war (i.e. “axis of evil.”).  The notion of “evil” is a theological construct which inevitably
means the opposite of “God’s goodness,” which I wholeheartedly reject because 1) I reject the existence of God, 2)
I reject the objective existence of some moral virtue called “goodness” and 3) I think “evil” and “good” are
everywhere contextually defined in relation to the socio-economic mores of dominant political groups.  Thus good is
invariably associated with the goodness of those in power, thus, America is “good” in the fight against the “evil”
terrorists.  Utter simplistic nonsense!  And look specifically how the war against the “evil” terrorists has turned to
tide of the Israel/Palestinian War where Israel is literally crushing the homes and hopes of innocent Palestinians,
literally walling them into a corner as Israel illegally takes by force more and more Palestinian land.  But the concept
of evil needs to go, especially in light of reconciliation projects after horrendous tragedies, such as the holocaust,
South African Apartied, or the Chilean “disappeared.”  It is hard to reconcile with human beings if you can only see
the face of “evil” instead of the frail face of selfish and intolerant inhuman beings.       

Williams: One page 5, you indicate “Bigfoot, aliens, and a living Elvis might all be true, but I’m not buying it until the
evidence is in.” What sort of evidence do you require to establish something as real?

Beach: I’m a firm believer in the scientific method, via John Dewey especially: empirical observation, hypothesis,
experiment and a critical community.  There is always a danger of reductionism with the notion of Science, in terms
of lowest common denominators, but it is a method that works and it has produced all the vital knowledge that
defines our lives.  We need not live by myths alone, however necessary stories might be, we do have access to
reality.  

Williams: When I asked, “What sort of evidence do you require to establish something as true,” you responded, “I’
m a firm believer in the scientific method….it is a method that works and it has produced all the vital knowledge that
defines our lives.” What do you mean? How do you verify something as true or real? Do you really believe that the
only things which are “true” are empirically verifiable and experimentally testable facts?

Beach: To reiterate, the scientific method is exactly as I stated: empirical observation, hypothesis, experiment and a
critical community.  I personally would like to leave behind idealistic constructs like “truth.”  I think the notion of
“truth” or “falsity” is invariably subjective and based upon practical considerations, which is not to say that I reject
the notion of “objective” reality.  I simply mean that for us to come to a notion of “objective” reality we must have
multiple human perspectives observing empirical reality with which to create some kind of consensus – thus the
scientific reliance on reproducing evidence through a continual re-examination of reality until some level of
“certainty” emerges based on the accumulated evidence.  

Williams: On page 4, you write that you’ve reached the conclusion that “all ideas and all ways of life were
constructs created by human beings in fumbling attempts at greater self-consciousness and greater socio-political
efficiency.” This is a huge claim. You’ve reduced all that exists to the material and the psychological while rejecting
the possibility of any greater spiritual and/or nonmaterial reality existing beyond what you might understand. How
can you be so sure of such a reduction? What do you base it on?

Beach: I know what I see and I have gleaned an understanding of the world based upon the critical investigation of
learned communities and individual experiences.  The scientific method is really the humanism of our time.  Dewey
was right to put faith in the ability of human beings to rationally and critically come to an understanding of their
world, share that understanding with other people, and come to an agreement about reality and what we should
do to live our lives.  I’m sure if a God exists, a being or force that got the whole universe going, “it” would not be
offended by Occam’s razor.  We worship and work with what we see, what we come into contact with, and what we
can influence through our ideas and actions.  Evolution is a fact of life as far as I’m concerned.  The evidence is in
and there is no denying it.  We are biological beings shaped by our environment and we have the ability to
understand enough of how our world works to create just, equitable and sustainable societies.  Myths, fables and
metaphysical speculation are fine and really add flavor to life, but it’s all fantasy like kids playing in a backyard
visualizing fantastic adventures.  It is time for the human race to grow up, leave our fantasies behind and take a
look at our backyard and the work we have to do to build a home.

Williams: Do you realize how reductionistic, simplistic, and even arrogant that sounds? You seem to be implying
(without support) that spiritual beliefs are analogous to kids acting out their childish and simplistic “fantasies” in a
backyard. Hence, fantasy here seems to have a negative connotation that implies wishful thinking, like kids
pretending to be soldiers or knights. Nothing has been established, only asserted. If you assume that only the
empirically verifiable is possible, then all you find is possible is what is empirically verifiable. However, you seem to
assert (via your mystical experience) that there is more than just the empirically verifiable that is possible. As a
poet, I would think you would concede that there are ways the human heart is moved and touched that are beyond
what we can empirically verify. In the same way, music, art, and literature can touch us and change us, if we let it.
You seem to be taking a hardened ego-centered position that rejects anything it cannot understand, including that
there is anything it cannot understand. To do so is to artificially limit yourself. A legitimate point of view doesn’t have
to be a simplistic opposition between fairy tale/fantasy/imagination and what is empirically verifiable. There is room
for both.

Beach: Ah, good response, but I think you are getting the wrong impression.  First, I am not using the word
“fantasy” in a negative way nor am I using it without concrete scientific evidence based on child psychology and my
own extensive work with and observation of children.  I firmly believe that more can be learned about human being
from watching a child then from talking to a college professor.  I think the notion of “fantasy” and “play” that
children partake in unselfconsciously is the perfect description of the human condition where we intertwine our
fantastic ideologies within our socio-material circumstances, which I think is a natural and fundamental part of what
human beings must do to survive.  The problem comes when we cross the line and start believing that our fantasies
are “real.”  That is called psychosis and I would argue that fundamentalist and religious thinking is a form of
psychosis, i.e. mistaking fantasy for reality.  I know we will probably never agree on this point, but I will make it one
of my primary duties in this life to collect enough evidence to prove this assertion.  And here I will refer you to my
books Studies in Ideology for the first installments.  

I would like to end with a short discussion of “possibility” in relation to reality.  Some fantasies are simply wishful
thinking that could never, ever come “true.”  Then there is the “what if” variety of the idealistic human brain, which
operates out of material reality to ask what is possible: Humans treating disease and living longer lives? Humans
flying in the air? Humans landing on the moon? Humans living peaceful, sustainable and equitable lives?  These all
represented the possible in the brains of human beings and most of these things emerged into the actual.  The poet
in me is absolutely mystified by the complexity and beauty of reality and I often sit in dumb awe at the wonder of it
all, and I dream about what is possible.  There is the poetic “kid” inside me that wonders “what if” and teases out
the possibilities of peace, justice, and equality all of which are “fantastic” human dreams, but which have yet to
become concrete socio-political realities.  

My assurance and directness can be mistaken for arrogant “egoism,” but I think you know that I am not an
egotistical person.  I lost my ego long ago and my fantasies of peace, justice and equality do not end with a heaven
where a God well pleased with my work will reward me.  I labor under no such selfish delusions.  In fact, based
upon my experiences thus far, I expect a lifetime of incomprehension, rejection, and misunderstanding and a
peaceful slumber in death will be my reward.  I do not think that our limited notions of empirical reality are all that is
possible, but it is the strongest tool we have to work with in our quest for knowledge and understanding, and I will
not apologize for what I consider to be the overwhelming evidence against the “divine.”  However, and I have told
you before, I can accede an agnostic point of view and say there are limits to human understanding and there may
be transcendent “truths” out there waiting for us after death.  If so, I’ll worry about those when I die.  Right now I’
m concerned with living and all the challenges, hope, and despair that this process entails.  



Essay 2  -  B. Patrick Williams: "The Christian"


At the end of spring term 2002, I left Professor Chris Anderson’s CS Lewis literature class with the sense that both
Lewis and Tolkien had rehabilitated Christianity for me.  In Lewis’s Surprised by Joy and Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy
Stories,” each author articulates a vision of the spiritual life that struck me as authentic – a life grounded in
experiences of joy and loss of self-consciousness to encounter what is real. By the end of the term, I had the feeling
that both authors had called me to the edge of a cliff. To step off the ledge was to acknowledge that full life – the
life I was meant to live – meant accepting Christ as my Lord and Savior. This seemed an intellectual insight – as
though it was something that was “true,” but I didn’t go beyond that.

For my master’s thesis, I interviewed evangelical protestant Christians about how their faith is integrated into their
lives. As the summer wore on, I grew tremendously impressed with the majority of my thesis interview subjects’
efforts to surrender to God as known in Christ. For all of their failings and areas where I felt they may not have
thought their beliefs through far enough, I was quite taken by their determined focus on God – the effort to put God
first in their lives. Even as I respected this, I maintained some critical distance from it. But, I couldn’t help but be
impressed.

Also during the summer, I found myself curious about NW Hills Baptist church. I asked my friend Jenn (a Starbucks co-
worker), what was it like? Jenn and I spoke briefly, but it wasn’t long before I dismissed the idea of attending. In
the meantime, I felt dissatisfied with the Roman Catholic Church where I had been going off and on. The liturgy did
not “do it” for me – I felt disconnected there. I’ve recently realized that one of my big draws to Catholicism had been
Chris Anderson, who taught and spoke with me deeply about the spiritual life. However, when I stepped away from
Chris and other Catholic friends, I found myself left hollow with the liturgy, mass, and Catholicism. At any rate, a bit
later in the summer, I felt an urge to go to NW Hills – almost a compulsion, really. So, I went, and while my reaction
was mixed, I liked it overall. The worship songs were simpler and more direct than I’d heard before, yet I really
appreciated that directness and the way we sung to God, not just about God. I was also taken by the pastor’s
sermon. While I could tell the belief system was underpinned by biblical inerrancy and exclusive salvation (two
things I resisted), I liked the message about living one’s full life for Christ - that the point of life is to be a disciple of
Jesus Christ, who is the source of authentic existence. I began to attend NW Hills regularly and by the fourth or fifth
Sunday, I felt something I’d never experienced in any church before – a feeling of being “at home.”

Another important event was reading Tozer’s The Pursuit of God. I was quite taken by Tozer, an evangelical mystic.
Wow. I didn’t know there was such a thing. Moreover, there was a ring of authenticity about Tozer that just blew
me away. Tozer wrote that the Bible by itself was just a book, but illuminated by the Spirit it was the Word of God.
He indicated that we ought to make Christ the center of our lives; the relationship with God must take precedence
over everything else. Tozer’s treatment of pride also deeply affected me. He explained how painfully destructive the
sins of selfishness and self-absorption can be in isolating us from God and each other. Tozer’s words were
electrifying to me. I was blown away.

Another piece in Tozer really connected with me. Roughly 2/3 or more into the book, Tozer refers to how “intellectual
difficulties” can become a “smokescreen.” I don’t recall the actual context, but somehow those words spoke to me
about my own relation to the Bible. Generally speaking, I see two approaches to the Bible – the “historical” and the
“spiritual.” The historical is governed by naturalistic presuppositions about what is possible (like any history) and
does not traffic in the supernatural. The spiritual deals with the things of God and is not subject to the same
constraints. Well, even though the spiritual is not subject to the same constraints, I still constrained it with what I
thought was possible. Thus, when I read the Bible in a spiritual light, I really subjected it to a rigorous historical
scrutiny. Instead of surrendering to God through the Bible’s words, I was too busy deciding what I did and did not
want to believe. In doing so, I kept God at arm’s length.

Over the next few days after reading Tozer, I began to rethink the way I’d been viewing the Bible. Instead of a
literal-factual approach (where the text means exactly what it says) or a metaphorical approach (where the text
does not mean what it literally says but speaks meaning through its imagery), I began to think of “more than literal”
as a way of seeing the Bible. Thus, my new orientation became one of not trying to ascertain exactly what
happened at all, but to trust that the will of God was somehow in, and able to work through, the pages of scripture.
Hence, my job was to open myself to, and surrender to, the God that spoke through the Bible. I was not to analyze,
but to listen. I had been blocked by intellectual defenses that kept me closed.

During the same time period, one day at Starbucks while talking to my friend Megan Brown, it just hit me – God is
real, God is right here, I can pray to God, God is listening. I felt a conviction in my guts that this was true as well as
a fire in my guts that it was true – both of these were mixed in with a peace and confidence. Suddenly, I seemed to
have “got it.” Now I knew what evangelicals meant when they advocated a “personal relationship with God in
Christ.” No longer did I even care about the historical or all the efforts I’d put into ascertaining the truth or falsity
present in the Bible. Instead, I found myself wanting to turn to God – to focus on God, as best I could. Also, I
realized that Jesus really is my Savior – that I need Jesus to be who I am truly supposed to be. Even more, I saw
that I’m not supposed to follow my own ego or my own lights, but to do my best to follow God as known in Christ;
thus, Christ is also my Lord.

Suddenly, I began to see things differently. The passage in Ephesians (5:22-33) that indicates wives are to submit
to their husbands and husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church – a passage that I used to see
as sexist nonsense - struck me differently. The passage is different because I now see the God-factor – that it’s the
husband and wife first submitting to God, and then to each other. It’s like, suddenly, I’m taking seriously this idea of
God as not an idea anymore, but as a present reality – as a factor integrated into life that should be taken seriously.

Professor Gary Ferngren loaned me an amazing book titled The Future of Evangelical Christianity by Donald G.
Bloesch. First, Bloesch provided words for what I’d thought but was not sure if anyone else had articulated – and
Bloesch articulated himself more thoroughly than I could. For instance, Bloesch spoke of how the Bible itself is not
inerrant, but inerrancy comes from the presence of Christ as mediated to the believer through the text. This leads to
the Bible’s accurate communication of truths about God and life as well as the Spirit’s speaking directly into the
context of a believer’s life.

Bloesch also cited Karl Barth’s reference to the “superhistorical,” which appears to be the functional equivalent of
my term “more than literal,” in describing Genesis. Bloesch’s point (using Barth) is that it’s not merely literal or
merely mythical – but more than either. Bloesch also talks about how the church must stand as a check on culture –
when the dominant culture and politics swing left, the church should swing right, and vice versa. Reading Bloesch, I
was reminded of Professor Marcus Borg’s view of Jesus’ compassion as originating in experiences of the Spirit of
God, a transcultural Spirit who calls people to compassion beyond themselves. As I look out upon the world, I’m
struck with the sense that people need this life-giving Spirit more than ever.

All of this has really spoken to me. The events I’ve mentioned are the key ones, but there have been others –
namely a lot of seeming coincidences when various evangelical Christians have come into my life at the right time –
supporting and encouraging me or simply showing me what they are about. While I’m not convinced that those who
are not saved in Christ are damned, and I only see the Bible as inerrant in the qualified way I mention above, I do
see the evangelical emphasis on the authority of Scripture and salvation through Christ in a new light. I’ve needed
this focused evangelical orientation through which to break through the bonds of my ego so as to surrender to the
Spirit. And, even then, I don’t think this is ultimately something I’ve done at all. That day in Starbucks when I felt
Christ was real as my Savior and Lord – when that evangelical language suddenly made sense to me – it wasn’t
about me, but about grace, a positive occurrence occurring outside of my sphere of control. While I’m sometimes still
a little baffled by all of this, I have to say that becoming an evangelical Christian and disciple of Jesus Christ is
probably the most important thing that’s ever happened to me.  



Conversation



Beach: I want to ask some very involved questions concerning why you turned to Christianity and also I want to
tease out the motivating logic behind your decisions and the statements you made.  

We have had discussions before about Christian exceptionalism, especially the narrow view of many evangelical
Christians who believe that Jesus as “Christ” is the only way to “salvation” and that the Christian tradition and the
Bible are the only “way” to God. You mention that “full life” is to be found in Jesus Christ who “is the source of
authentic existence [emphasis added]” and that your conversion experience, if I may call it that, came when you
“realized” that “Jesus really is my Savior.” In light of your personal background, which is Christian; the country and
region you live in, which is predominantly Christian and perhaps most visible evangelical Christian; and in light of the
fact that all of the outside documents you turned to for spiritual direction mentioned in this essay are Christian -
how intellectually or culturally rigorous was your search for “God” and the source of “authentic existence;” do you
deny other cultural tradition as viable “ways” to “God;” and finally was your conversion to Christianity a conversion
of convenience or did you make an enlightened decision?

Williams: Thank you for your passionate honesty. You’ve raised good points and questions, and I’ll try to deal with
what is most central. You mention “many evangelical Christians” “believe” “Jesus…is the only way to ‘salvation’ and
that the Christian tradition and the Bible are the only ‘way’ to God.” First, I see salvation as being a personal
relationship with God as known in Jesus Christ. Thus, full life is found in surrendering to that leadership and realizing
that one’s ego is not the ultimate authority – God is. However, God can be known in many different forms of
experience and mediums: music, art, literature, nature, other religious traditions – just about any form of encounter
can be a conduit for the experience of God. Evangelicals speak of special revelation and general revelation. The
former connotes the communication of what is necessary to salvation – such as the central narratives and teachings
in the scriptures. General revelation connotes God’s truths as found in experiences of music, other religious
traditions, the beauty of a spring day, the sound of the ocean, the pain of loss, the joy of unselfconscious freedom.
So, God can be found in other religious traditions, but what is most necessarily true about God for salvation - what
is most necessary to be saved from the state of ego elevation and separation from God – is located in Christianity
via the relationship with God in Christ. A relationship with Christ is the fullest connection to God available, and it’s
how we are most rightly meant to live. Other religions are inevitably partial in their understanding of God’s truth; full
understanding is found in Christianity through giving one’s life to the one who walked the earth as both God and
man, Jesus Christ.

You ask “how intellectually or culturally rigorous was your search for ‘God’ and the source of ‘authentic existence’”? I
see life as a process of learning and growth that continues until death. After graduating from high school, I served
for six years in the US Marine Corps, to include the first gulf war. In addition to having an MA in Interdisciplinary
Studies (essentially religious studies and writing), I’ve taught writing at Oregon State University, been married and
divorced, lost my mother to cancer, and graduated magna cum laude with a joint B.S. in history and philosophy. I’ve
taken 5 courses (to include The Historical Jesus, Philosophy and Religion, and World Views/Values and the Bible)
with Professor Marcus Borg plus I’ve completed roughly six months of independent study on psychology and religion
with Dr. Borg. Further, I’ve had numerous conversations with Tibetan Buddhist Scholar Jim Blumenthal (who is a
practicing Tibetan Buddhist) in addition to taking Dr. Blumenthal’s course on The Buddha and Buddhist Philosophy. I’
ve also taken a course in world religions and another course treating modern religions in Japan and China. Lastly, I
practiced Zen Buddhist meditation for over two years, having been on three Zen Sesshins (silent meditation retreats
– 4 days, 7 days, and 7 days respectively) and several day-long periods of silent meditation. All in all, I’d say my
search for truth has been very intellectually, culturally, and experientially rigorous. I will continue searching for truth
and insight until I die.

In all of these areas, I’ve continued to seek the truth as honestly and incisively as possible. You ask if my
“conversion to Christianity” is “a conversion of convenience or did you make an enlightened decision?” I’m not
familiar with the term “conversion of convenience,” but it seems to have a negative connotation, as though
suggesting that I embraced Christianity because it was convenient for me to do so, as though perhaps my new faith
helped me to fit in better socially or to feel better about life. Let me be clear – my search has always been for what
is real, what is true. I didn’t expect to become an evangelical Christian – it is something that happened to me in the
midst of my search. Prior to my conversion, I didn’t believe in evangelical theology or the evangelical approach to the
Bible. Indeed, I was quite critical of both, and I adamantly argued against them.

I used to disagree with the idea that Jesus was the primary way to God, and I did not believe the Bible was
authoritative. Moreover, I believed that passages in the Bible had to be seen metaphorically so as to be plausible
and meaningful because they could not be taken literally (an example is the Emmaus Road story in Luke 24).
However, since my conversion, I’ve realized that in the past, I had been projecting my own views upon the biblical
text, limiting what was possible. Regarding the Emmaus Road story, I thought it would be silly if taken literally, Jesus
appearing unrecognized to his two disciples, later vanishing from sight when they recognize him. To me, that
seemed absurd. Another example: I didn’t believe dead people could be brought back to life, so I disregarded any
passage that indicated otherwise. Thus, I limited my openness to the possibilities inherent in reality. Below that
desire to limit reality, I’ve since realized that the real underlying issues have been my anger at God over my mother’
s death from cancer coupled with my resistance to surrendering to God as my authority. I had located authority in
my ego judgments about what was possible or seemed plausible, not in an openness to what is real and the God
who speaks through it all.

Now, I realize that our place is to stand with Job at the whirlwind and accept that the point is not what we can
figure out, but an acceptance of what is. Further, we are to surrender to God’s will, setting aside our own in favor of
His. Instead of getting wrapped up in what we think we can figure out, we should instead surrender to the Lord of
all.  

Beach: You can forgive me if I cannot see past your Christian exceptionalism, which I find hard to palate given the
greater intolerance of Christian fundamentalism.  You say that other religions and art share a “general revelation,”
but only Christians have access to the “specific revelation” found in Christ.  If I didn’t know you personally Patrick I
would say you were no different than the common Christian exceptionalist, but because I do know you I have to
ask, don’t you find it hard to take this position given that only a minority of the world’s population professes
Christianity?  And what about the majority of the world’s population who are Hindu’s, Buddhists, Muslims, and
Secularists and their inferior “general” revelation?  Are they cosigned to a “general” less blissful heaven, or maybe
to a purgatorial state after death, or maybe as a great many Christian exceptionalists believe the majority of the
world will burn in hell for eternity because they could not come to accept the exalted “specific” way revealed in the
Christian religion?  This seems shaky ground my friend.  And further, on what grounds do you base your
supposition, besides your personal, pro-Christian belief that the Bible is the one and only handbook for salvation?  
Doesn’t every ignorant religious exceptionalist say ‘my way is the only way’?  How are you different?

Williams:  Well Josh, as usual, you’re asking important questions, and for that, I’m grateful. The passion in your
words suggests that these subjects strike close to your heart, however you may think about them. And, while I am
not familiar with the term “Christian exceptionalism,” I expect you are referring to something analogous to
“exclusivism” – the privileging of the Christian revelation over all other means of obtaining the truth. In any case, I
will certainly forgive you for taking issue with me, even celebrating our disagreement as I think being real (even in
opposition) is definitely preferable to a restraint that comprises what is truly felt and thought.  Now, onto your
questions and my responses:

No, I don’t find it “hard to take” that I privilege the Christianity over all other religions even though there are
various different religions around the world proposing different things that they claim to be true. In fact, I think the
current academic fixation with relativistic thinking has damaged the ability to critically reason. There is no real
relativism; it’s a fantasy that inevitably privileges one point of view over another/others while claiming not to do so.
If one is really a committed Buddhist or Hindu, he or she will privilege that faith position over all others. The
Christian is no different. A Buddhist may believe that folks will be reincarnated infinitely until they are freed from the
suffering of the samsara wheel and the Christian will see those who fail to accept Christ’s lordship as going to hell
after they die and the Muslim will see heaven as a place of paradise filled with virgins and an atheist rejects the
possibility of any of it while the agnostic is uncertain.

We should all do the best to live fully and be who we are – to follow the truth where it leads. Doing this does not
involve a wishy-washy relativistic compromise, but digging in and being real about what one thinks and feels. That’s
part of the reason I enjoy our dialogue so much Josh – because we’re inviting each other to be real, and we’re
really to be friends even as we might agree to disagree. I think the model of this discussion is the model for how to
live with each other when we’re a variety of people coming from complex environmental and genetic backgrounds.

As to whether non-Christians will go to hell when they die – that’s not for me to decide. I think one must have Jesus
Christ to be in a right relationship with God. Period. But, as C.S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity: “But the truth is
God has not told us what His arrangements about the other people are. We do know that no man can be saved
except through Christ; we do not know that only those who know Him can be saved through Him” (62). Hence, I’m
not qualified to judge who will or won’t be sent to hell; but, given that I believe salvation is through Jesus Christ, it’s
in everyone’s best interest to submit to Him for salvation. Most pertinent here is the relation to this world – those
who have Christ are fundamentally on the right ground and those who don’t have Christ are not. We were created
to be in intimate relationship with God, and that intimate relationship is most fully realized by a connection to God
through Jesus Christ.

In addition to what the Bible and Christian tradition teach, I base this conclusion on my personal conversion
experience. When I encountered Christ in a personal way, I was persuaded experientially of a different reality – the
reality that God is real, He’s all around, and He’s known in Christ. As my relationship with God through Christ has
deepened, I’ve grown in ways that were previously unknown to me. I’m more confident, more assured, more
settled, more grounded. Sure, I make mistakes and have a lifetime of learning ahead, but now I’ve crossed a
fundamental bridge into a new, previously unrealized life. Now, there’s a connectedness to my actions and my
thoughts and my feelings that didn’t exist before – a sense of feeling right about who I am and what I’m about.
When I reflect on how confused and unconfident I was before relative to my role in the larger scheme of life (though
ironically I thought I knew a lot definitively), and then I compare that with what has been given to me now, it is
clear to me that life in Christ is life as it’s meant to be. The longer I live and grow in Him, the more convinced I am.
Even more, as I look around and see all the pain and suffering and fracture and loss and misdirection that runs
rampant in the world, I realize, Christ is the answer. The culture we live in is guilty for the way it validates the
building of the ego and the hardening of self-absorption. Stuck in ourselves, we are lost. As such, we turn to all
manner of false gods to relieve our pain: new age religions, eastern mysticism, sports, philosophy, drugs. We were
created to be with God in deep relationship, yet we refuse to surrender our egos, so we seek fulfillment in false
sources of spirituality. I see it all around – the pain, the confusion, the lost.
I am only different from those in other religions insofar as I believe that Christianity offers the best explanation for
the realities of the world. All religions and ways of knowing contain some truth, but the fullest truth is found in
Christianity. I have tested and weighed Christianity, and I will continue to do so as I continue to immerse myself in
my own life and the Christian faith. I am a Christian because I believe it best provides an understanding of what is
true and real.

Beach: I want to follow up on the last question. All religious traditions have been grounded in concrete, historical
cultures and regions. By way of provincialism, chauvinism, or the undisputable process of cultural assimilation people
all across the globe are socialized (or indoctrinated) into particular social, political and religious traditions. The
Christian tradition is no exception. Evangelical Christianity is founded on several, highly subjective, culturally limited
assumptions (I will name only a few): the existence of a personal God that acts in history, the notion that Jesus was
“Christ” and the “son of God,” the superiority of human beings over all other forms of life, the superiority of males
over women, a belief in the total destruction and “end” of this world, and the belief in a dualistic afterlife where the
elect are rewarded and the evil are punished. These assumptions are themselves grounded in the Bible, which is
assumed by most Christians to be the “inerrant” “Word of God, to some Christians to be “literally” factual, i.e. many
contemporary evangelical Christians believe the end of the world is coming. Should all Christian’s simply disregard
“intellectual difficulties” as “smokescreens” in order to concentrate on their own highly subjective and, what seems
to me, highly anti-social search for a personal relationship with Christ instead of critically understanding the
evolution of their religious tradition and the way Christianity has historically and is currently manipulated by
conservative political agendas? Specifically, is the “spiritual” approach to the Bible in its uncritical subjectivity a
socially responsible program, especially in light of the precarious foreign and domestic policies of George W. Bush
who claims to be a practicing evangelical Christian? What of “historical” Bible scholars like Crossan and Borg who
have argued that one cannot responsibly approach the Bible without historical perspective? Can you admit some
inherent dangers in the “spiritual” position in light of contemporary American politics?

Williams: Well, once again you’ve raised excellent points and asked penetrating questions. In fact, here you’ve
challenged me the most of all. I’ll do my best to provide an adequate response.
I agree that “All religious traditions have been grounded in concrete, historical cultures and regions.” Of course they
have. However, I won’t reduce those traditions to their cultural/social conditioning alone. Instead, I believe that God’
s revelation – his divine will and concomitant truths – is an additional factor that has penetrated the mix of societies,
cultures, regions.

I disagree with your claim about evangelicals and men/women. Evangelical Christianity is not founded on “the
superiority of males over women.” Rather, evangelicals see women and men as having different roles; hence, one is
not superior to the other. I do believe the end of the world will come about by God’s judgment (unless we humans
destroy the world first), but I don’t know when that will be.

You ask: “Should all Christians simply disregard ‘intellectual difficulties’ as ‘smokescreens’ in order to concentrate on
their own highly subjective and, what seems to me, highly anti-social search for a personal relationship with Christ
instead of critically understanding the evolution of their religious tradition and the way Christianity has historically
and is currently manipulated by conservative political agendas?” First, you have set up a false opposition between
seeking a relationship with God in Christ and thinking critically about the ways in which one’s religious tradition
interacts with its society/culture/political systems. This opposition is not necessary, and uncritical thought does not
follow logically from a relationship with Christ (though the two can certainly exist together). Regarding “intellectual
difficulties” and “smokescreens,” these refer to concerns around the veracity of the Bible and the relationship with
God. Previously, I thought everything had to make sense to me intellectually – I had to understand it, or it was not
valid. However, I’ve since learned that such a view is untenable regarding God. When we set ourselves up as sole
authorities, those intellectual difficulties can block us from the real issue – surrendering to God in Jesus Christ, the
one in whom we were created to obey and follow. Given that we naturally resist such a surrender, we use various
means to distance ourselves from God, and in my case, it was intellectual difficulties. An example: prior to becoming
a Christian I’d say to myself, I’ve never seen a dead person raised, so therefore the Gospel of John can’t be true nor
can its claims have any bearing on me. Those sorts of ego judgments kept me trapped in myself and unable to
relate to God (who speaks through the Bible); those judgments kept me closed.

I totally agree that we should study the evolution of our traditions, to include whether they have become tools for
oppression. None of what I assert above contradicts the importance of critical study (hence the false opposition).
You raise an excellent concern regarding George W. Bush and his policies. After all, Bush claims to be an evangelical
Christian, yet one can legitimately argue that many of Bush’s policies are detrimental and potentially dangerous to
individuals in the US as well as to the world as a whole. In my view, we must always remember that the church
should be separated from the kingdoms of this world. Indeed, Donald Bloesch has asserted that the church must act
as a check on political oppression carried out by such kingdoms; the church should never align itself too closely with
political institutions for fear of being co-opted. I agree. When opposing immoral segregation laws, Martin Luther King
Jr. was a Baptist minister acting deeply out of his Christian convictions and faith.
While George W. Bush can espouse Christianity all he wants, the evidence of his faith will be found in his actions. It’
s up to the individual believer to sort out whether Bush’s Christianity is in fact credible. Further, your concern is of
huge importance regarding those who might take Bush at face value, saying to themselves, well, he says he’s a
Christian, so he must be and thus, I’ll vote for him. To be so simplistic about such matters can be dangerous, yet it’s
likely a real potential problem. Finally, Borg and Crossan are right about the need for historical perspective. I concur
that if people are uncritical of their society/culture/political systems, this can create real problems in trying to
determine what is true and right both for themselves and others.  

Beach: Christianity seems to me to be a very anti-human religion denying human beings rational capacity,
community motivated ideals, and the capacity for progressive self-direction (with the exception of a “savior” figure).
You mention several times that you had to give up your ability to analyze, your critical thought, your ego, your “own
lights” in order to accept Jesus as your “Lord,” and that you are not “truly” who you are “supposed to be” without
Jesus as your “savior.” This seems to really denigrate the human being and imply an inherent deficiency within
human nature, which I completely disagree with. The Christian language you use is derivative of older forms of
monarchical assumptions, wherein, the unenlightened masses where always in need of direction and protection
from “above.” Why must we have “Saviors,” “Lords,” and “Kings of Kings”? Why cannot we learn to understand our
own human nature, use our brains, and collectively learn to live together somewhat peacefully and productively?
Why must we “submit” to God?

Williams: You raise important questions and concerns. In short, we must submit to God because that is how we are
created to live fully. Thus, we are not supposed to be egos on our own, but rather, we are to cooperate with God,
who leads us. I know this is hard to take, and in part, this is why I didn’t become a Christian for so long. Our egos
want to rule – the judging, analyzing, rationalizing side of ourselves that attempts to seize and control. Our
empirically oriented culture tells us that what is real must be objectively measurable and what most matters is
wealth and what is most important is our own self-aggrandizement. However, life as it is meant to be comes
through transcending that ego and finding our meaning in God and serving others, not in elevating ourselves or
gaining material possessions or rejecting what we don’t understand. Further, the ego judging side of us is only one
side – our bodies and minds are much more holistic, and God fills the deep need we all have.
The danger of a position that emphasizes human attributes alone is that authority is located falsely within the ego.
It’s an illusion that we can control our destinies, yet we try to through our reasoning and judging so as to find some
measure of comfort. However, peace will not come until we find right relation with the God who transcends our
egos. Those in other spiritual traditions realize the importance of ego-transcendence, they just prescribe a different
solution for the problem. Such ego-transcendence can be found in music, poetry, art – they free us from self-
preoccupation to be more fully present to our lives and circumstances. Ego-transcendence through art, music,
poetry, and other spiritual traditions is a partial solution while following Christ is the complete solution. Christianity
is not “anti-human” nor does it deny “human beings rational capacity;” instead, Christianity offers a life that
validates the whole person and not just his/her intellect.

Beach: I take exception to your comment on Ephesians. As I mentioned in my last question, the idea of “submitting”
to the greater power in order to find and experience one’s “true” self seems insulting to human beings, especially in
this case to women – and of course you failed to comment on the later passage in Ephesians (6:5) where Paul says,
“Slaves, obey your earthly masters with fear and trembling.” Both passages have been invoked by those in power
to deny women equal rights and to deny slaves and workers livable and just working conditions. You assume the
“God-factor” and thus your idealized interpretation of this passage disregards the world we live in where Christian
Promise Keepers deny their wives autonomy; where American women still earn less then men for equal work; where
South East Asian, Eastern European and Russian women are sold into slavery as “wives;” where Islamic
fundamentalists beat down woman for not being covered head to foot or for simply wanting to go to school. I would
call into question your highly subjective presupposition that “God is watching and keeping score” thus we as
humans need do nothing but submit to his will and wait for justice. This was the attitude of monarchists, slave-
holders, monopolists, and those professing Christians who told Martin Luther King Jr. to bide his time and wait for
the “Lord” to right the African American’s wrongs. Please comment.

Williams:  By asserting, “of course you failed to comment on the later passage in Ephesians (6:5) where Paul says,
‘Slaves…,” you seem to be suggesting that I deliberately avoided commenting here. If so, you are incorrect. I don’t
doubt that passages from Ephesians have been used to oppress women and slaves; however, to do so is a mistake
and a distortion. As the saying goes, “even the devil quotes scripture.” Anyone can quote from the Bible and believe
whatever they want about what it means, but that doesn’t make such an interpretation accurate. Paul is not
seeking to advance oppression with these passages. Regarding male/female relations, he is establishing distinct
roles in which both men and women subordinate themselves to God (as I’ve explained previously re: Ephesians 5:
22-33). As for slaves, this should be understood in its historical context. Paul was writing to particular slaves and
advising them to obey their masters. Hence, Paul thought that not doing so in this case would be problematic; Paul
is not talking about all enslaved peoples for all times.

You assert that I “assume the ‘God-factor’” and that my “idealized interpretation of this passage disregards the
world we live in…” I believe God is as real as anything else; a fact of existence. That is my belief, and you are free to
disagree with it, just as I disagree with the counter-belief/counter-assumption that a personal God does not exist.
My view is not idealized, and I believe that husbands should not try to control their wives, slavery is wrong, and
Islamic fundamentalists are wrong to beat women for seeking education.

You write, “I would call into question your highly subjective presupposition that ‘God is watching and keeping score’
thus we as humans need do nothing but submit to his will and wait for justice.” First, I ask that you refrain from
attributing quotes to me that are not my own. I’m not sure whom you’re quoting here, but it’s not me. Second, this
statement is inaccurate on its face. I have not said that we should “do nothing but submit to [God’s] will and wait
for justice.” In fact, if my life is any indication, I have continued to seek knowledge and live my life as fully as
possible, both before and after my conversation. My post-conversion insight is that we are to cooperate with God in
our activities while placing him rightfully in authority over our lives.

Beach: You mention above that Paul was writing in a specific historical situation and that he was not writing to all
people at all times, and the logical extension of that statement infers that all of the language of the Bible is
historically conditioned, thus one should not use the Bible to justify intolerance, hatred, murder, slavery, dominating
women, killing disobedient children, stoning witches, and killing homosexuals all of which are sanctioned in various
parts of the Bible.  Thus, as Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan argue, the Bible is a “historical” document, which one
can use to access “God” through tradition, but it should not be used as the basis or sole authority for living in the
21st century.  You seem to be walking a slippery line between the fundamentalist’s belief in the sole and
fundamental authority of the Bible as the guide for living (no matter which century it was written in) and the more
sophisticated and socio-politically aware Christianity of the Borg/Crossan-school of historical criticism.  Please
comment.     

Williams:  You’re on the right track in your understanding of what’s at stake here Josh, but you must be careful so
as not to oversimplify. The Bible is a very complex work written by multiple authors over thousands of years across a
multitude of historical/social/political/economic conditions. It is into those complex conditions that I see the stream of
God’s revelation inserting itself. Before I will accept your terms, you must establish them. Thus, I will not accept your
list above relative to the Bible until you make a case for your particular interpretative point of view. These are
complex matters that require complex treatment. Right now, you have asserted a number of elements you believe
are “sanctioned” by the Bible without providing any context or argument for why this is so. Next time, do so and I’ll
be happy to deal with any example you provide.

Your perception of what is at stake is accurate insofar as you raise the question of authority. I think that issue is
central. Thus, do we follow the guidance of our own egos, or do we follow God’s will, or do we follow some mix of
the two – what do we look to as a fundamental guide for our lives? In my view, we are to see God as our ultimate
authority – as the defining source of authority for our lives. The liberal theological position is to say that the Bible
itself is not grounded in divine authority but is just a record of experience. The problem with liberal Christianity and
atheism is that they minimize or eliminate God’s role while maximizing the role of the ego. Ego idolatry is the source
of sin and the very thing we need to get away from in order to be free to find life as it is meant.

My position (and the broader evangelical position) is to accept that the Bible is conditioned by different
times/places/events even as it contains the revelation of God’s truths. Parts of that revelation are only applicable to
the time in which they were given, and other parts are applicable for all times. The key to sorting this out is the
problem of interpretation. Thus, I (and evangelicalism more broadly) combine a belief in the authority of the Bible
with the importance of being socially and politically aware.






Are We Living in the 'End Times'?



Essay 3  -  J. M. Beach: "Apocalyptic Eschatology"


Evangelical Christianity in its preoccupation with Jesus as “Christ” and the more modern obsession of literal
interpretation of the Bible has passionately given birth to a host of millennial schemes, whereby, the “end of the
world” becomes immanent.  This eschatological urge seems to be ingrained in the very origins of the early
“Christian” communities whose devotion and love of Jesus not only exalted him into a messiah figure as the
“Christ,” but also transfigured the violent and unjust death of the revered teacher in creative tales and
compensating myths, whereby, Jesus as the “Christ” would return sword in hand, to cleanse the world of all evil
doers, banish the hordes of Satan into a fiery pit, and end human history in order to inaugurate a 1,000 year
triumphal reign of God before leaving the earth with the elect for an eternity in Heaven.  The grandeur of this
delusion does not diminish the powerfully immanent emotional attachment that Christians have for centuries
attached to their desire for the divine to finally and for all descend and bring about the lost paradise of “God’s”
supposedly “original vision.”  

The apostle John especially added theatrical flare to the mythological pretense underpinning his more fictional than
factual accounts of Jesus’ life.  The metaphysical introduction of John’s Gospel is truly awe-inspiring and a testament
to the Greek influence on the early Christian communities.  The divine, rational order of “Logos” comes down from
the heavenly realm of the ethereal firmament to become “flesh” and “live among us.”  This is just one of the
wonderful metaphors that John invokes to mythically inflate the majesty of Jesus.   John proves himself the most
literate of the four canonical authors, as he is steeped in the ancient traditions of Greece and Judea, and like Paul,
John pilfers the Jewish Old Testament for obscure passages to put forth as prophetic revelations of the “Son of
God.”  One is told time and again in John’s Gospel that Jesus was not “of this world” and, thus, his significance lies
in a more perfect, heavenly realm outside the boundaries of earthly existence to which sinfully mortal humans must
aspire.

One is also confronted with another aspect of Jesus that is significantly lacking in the other Gospels and that is
“judgment.”  In John 9:39 Jesus says, “I came into this world for judgment,” which while playing into the established
prophetic school of thought found in the Old Testament becomes, in relation to John’s otherworldly portraiture of
Jesus, a frightful glimpse of the angry tyranny let loose by Jehovah in days of old.  In John’s Gospel it seems more a
threat than anything else.  To use a vulgar paraphrase: “God going to cleanse this putrescent hell-hole of a planet
and you better be on the right side or else!”  Thus, when John’s Jesus tries to back track a bit in John 12:47 by
saying, “I do not judge anyone who hears my words and does not keep them, for I came not to judge the world but
to save the world” it seems shallow and insincere, especially since Jesus, just one verse later, says, “on the last day
the word that I have spoken will serve as judge” (12:48).  Jesus’ real message, John has made perfectly clear, is
that “I am the resurrection and the life” (11:25), I am “God:” over and over Jesus says “I am he,” which is code for
accept me or else face judgment and eternal damnation.

During the trial of Jesus, John has Pilate rhetorically ask, “What is truth” (18:38)?  Of course any close reader of
John’s gospel knows the answer, which is the very bedrock assertion of the Christian faith and the line perhaps
most quoted by modern Christian fundamentalists: Jesus says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one
comes to the Father except through me” (14:6).  John metaphorically uses “truth” more than any other Gospel (1:
17, 4:23, 8:32, 14:6, 14:17) and explicitly sets up the chauvinistic and exclusive dogma that Christianity is the only
“true” faith and way to “God.”  Thus, in an early fundamentalist fiat, it should come as no surprise when John
passes off his entirely fantastic and otherworldly Gospel at literally “true” (21:24).  

It is in this same distortion of the notion of “truth” that John pens an even more perverse and outlandish tale of
“revelation,” “final judgment” and the “end of the world.”  In The Birth of Christianity (1998) chapters 17 and 18,
John Dominic Crossan has persuasively argued that a “nonapocalyptic eschatology” existed within the early
communities of Jesus’ followers and that only later did a revisionist “apocalyptic eschatology” arise over fifty to one
hundred years after Jesus’ death, embodied in such documents as the Gospel of John and in John’s “Revelation.”  
John’s Revelation deserves a place amongst the Greco-Roman pagan myths as a prototypical visionary drama of
contamination, ritual cleansing, and rebirth.  But certainly anyone who would dare assert that what John described
is actually going to come to pass in the near future is completely bereft of sanity or tolerance.  Thus, the whole
enduring notion of the “end of the world” and the modern Christian fundamentalist’s dogmatic expression and
adherence to this lunacy is one of the strongest and most obvious demonstrations of the deep psychopathology of
the Christian religion.

John, over two thousand years ago, thought “the time is near” (Revelation 1:3) and thus urged the underground
communities of Christians to bide their time and endure repression because the triumphal Christ would be coming
soon for revenge (1:7, 9).  The first part of John’s “Revelation” seems no revelation at all, but merely a bunch of
violently dictatorial threats thinly veiled in the voice of Jesus as vengeful “God.”  Over and over John’s “voice of God”
says, “repent” or be destroyed.  John’s “God” decrees a totalitarian nightmare more horrible than any Christian
crusade to date: “I will give authority over / the nations; / to rule them with an iron rod, / as when clay pots are /
shattered” (2:26-27).  Then the book deteriorates into a vengeful bloodbath of “trials” and “tribulations” because
“the Lamb that was slaughtered” (5:12) has come back to judge the earth and “reign” triumphal, and, incidentally,
to reward the chosen servants of “God:” For you have taken your / great power and begun to reign. / The nations
raged, but your wrath has come, / and the time for judging / the dead” (11:17-18).  

The climax of John’s “Revelation” comes when an “angel of the Lord” decrees that the “beast” of Satan and his
hordes will be defeated and these demons and the whole earth will be judged in blood:
So the angel swung his sickle over the earth and gathered the vintage of the earth, and he threw it into the great
wine press of the wrath of God.  And the wine press was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the wine
press, as high as a horse’s bridle, for a distance of about two hundred miles.  (14:19-20).

And this is the pacific Christianity of love and forgiveness?  No rational person with a shred of decency could
condone this violent and genocidal program of extermination. John advocating a systematic destruction of the
“damned” seems no different than Hitler’s program of Holocaust or Neo-Nazi visions of racial cleansing (for example,
The Turner Diaries).  John’s apocalyptic vision is a truly sickening and despicable instance of bloodthirsty intolerance,
but resonant with a host of historical geo-political campaigns of Christian tyranny, most recently the wars of
aggression by George W. Bush.  Bush’s professed belief that he is a “servant of God” and his declaration of war
against the vague, spiritual enemies like “terrorists” and the “axis of evil” seem eerily reminiscent of John’s bloody
revelation.  It would seem fitting if George W. Bush just came out and quoted scripture in Revelation as his ultimate
justification for war and American consolidation of power:

In righteousness he judges and makes war…He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is called The Word of God…From
his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron; he will tread the wine
press of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty.  On his robe and on his thigh he has a name inscribed, “Kings of kings and Lord
of Lords” (19:11-16)

I do not think there is any better description of the Imperial motivations of George W. Bush than this, nor do I think
there is any other conclusion in the minds of fanatic, right-wing evangelical Christian fundamentalists than this
despicable bloodbath.  

The human race must leave behind all primitive notions of catastrophic and violent destruction of “evil” if any rational
and just consensus is to govern the world.  I think the time for uncritically celebrating the historically conditioned
apocalyptic visions of the past is over.  Are we living in the end times?  If George W. Bush and his administration
have their way the world will be engulfed in wars; America will turn into a police state with no government services
and poor education (unless your rich!); Christianity will be promoted as the one, “true” way to “God;” and the
environment will be rapped of resources and polluted beyond recognition to the point of catastrophic species
extermination and the untold consequences of Global warming.  To the question, “are we living in the end times?” I
would reply, perhaps, perhaps. But I would add, it has nothing to do with “God.”



Conversation



Williams: Well, my friend, I sympathize with your concerns relative to the violent judgment of God as understood by
many evangelicals to be “coming soon.” The end of his world has been portrayed as a violent, cataclysmic event
that results in horrific destruction as a result of God’s judgment of those who have rebelled against him. I think
there are many ways in which you and I can clarify some important issues around this material.

I understand your worries regarding Bush’s wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the destruction of the environment, and
America becoming a “police state” comprised of the poorly educated who lack “government services.” Do you think it’
s possible for evangelicals to hold to a belief in an end times judgment by God while still caring for the environment,
desiring to prevent war, advocating for government services and solid education?

Beach: Frankly, Patrick, I do not.  For centuries one of the bedrock assertions of Christianity has been its dualistic
withdrawal from the actual, material-political world.  The Neo-Hegelian critique of Christianity unearthed a great
insight into the aggressions and exterminations perpetuated in Jesus’ name.  Basically, Feuerbach, Marx, and others
criticized Christianity as an “individualistic” religion that preached personal salvation and renunciation of the
material/political world because this world was “corrupt” and damned by God.  You know the story.   Christianity has
always been about “personal salvation,” and when evangelical, about “saving souls.”  Mainline Christianity in terms
of the message communicated to the lay-people, as we both know, has never been concerned with the real politick
matters of this world.  In almost every single historical example that I can call to mind, the call to reform the existing
world as a “mandate from God” has been met with resistance from mainstream Christianity and condemned as
heresy, which is ironic as the down-and-dirty, minister-to-the-poor, fuck-the-authorities-and-status-quo attitude of
most heretic reformers and revolutionaries is closer to the original mandate of Jesus.  I think mainstream Christianity
from its very origins in the early church is a perversion of Jesus’ material message of “The Kingdom of God” is of this
world, in this world, embodied in real people.  This has always been a revolutionary message.  It got Jesus killed.  
Its gotten a lot of other people killed as well (Martin Luther King Jr. & Oscar Romero are two very popularized,
contemporary examples).  

Personally, Patrick, I feel you have an overly idealized and naïve view of what Christianity means and how it is
practiced, especially in the U.S.  You might try to defend your “Christianity” with “band-aid” programs of prison
ministries, soup kitchens, missions trips, youth outreach, etc, but each of these programs are ultimately self-serving,
thinly veiled attempts to “save souls” and are not all that concerned with alleviating the socio-economic pain and
suffering of the body and exploited communities.  And one of the most time-tested truisms of what I’m saying, ala
Bertrand Russell, has been the perverse and detestable stance of Christianity on sex.  In the world we live in, it is
absolutely immoral and obscene to deny birth control and family planning, yet the church continues to do so.

Williams: Well, frankly my friend, I’m disappointed that you don’t think an end times believing evangelical can also
value the environment, seek to prevent war, and advocate for government services and education. I was hoping
that you would offer a thoughtful perspective as to how an evangelical might channel some of his/her energy into
“this-worldly” concerns; instead, you’ve taken a position governed by intellectual, theoretical considerations that
distorts your perceptions. Of course, an evangelical who believes in the end-times can support taking care of the
environment, seek to prevent war, advocate for government services and education. I am one.

I’m afraid that your bias against Christianity is compromising your ability to think critically. You offer valuable points
of view but then you over simplify them and reduce them into one sided, dogmatic positions. These issues are multi-
faceted and more complex than you’re allowing. For instance, of course there are Christians who have fled from the
practical realities of the world, but there are many Christians who embrace the problems of the world. Martin Luther
King Jr. was an ordained Baptist minister.

And what of this false opposition that you’ve set up between the Kingdom of God as being otherworldly versus the
Kingdom of God being “of this world, embodied in real people”? Of course it is. You assert that I “might try to defend
my ‘Christianity’ with ‘band-aid’ programs of prison ministries, soup kitchens, missions trips, youth outreach, etc, but
each of these programs are ultimately self-serving, thinly veiled attempts to ‘save souls’ and are not at all that
concerned with alleviating the socio-economic pain and suffering of the body and exploited communities.” On what
do you base this?

What you’ve offered is a sweeping generalization and oversimplification that outruns what you should claim in good
conscience. Your exhortation that people’s suffering and pain should be relieved is valid, but how can you reduce
the only concern to that of saving souls? I’m not an expert on Christian missions, but my understanding is that
missionaries work to achieve the holistic well being of those they minister to. Your one-sided assertion that all
Christians care about is saving souls and that they don’t care about other needs is utter nonsense. Your list
(“prison ministries, soup kitchens” etc.) makes my point. These are activities that meet peoples’ real needs where
they are, in the world. It’s not either/or. If you care about someone, you want to help the whole person. Of course,
if you believe that someone’s soul is in jeopardy, you want to share the gospel. But, if you love that person, you
also want to relieve their suffering. There are all sorts of Christian ministries all around the world that work for the
this-worldly good of others.

Beach: You are right, to some extent, about my over-generalizing and in places losing a grasp on the complicated
motives that go into any human action, but my general criticism about “Christian” motivations stands, and you didn’t
even try to address it.  The militant atheist Christopher Hitchens, whom I respect in some matters and disagree with
him on many others, wrote a very good book on Mother Teresa (who is soon becoming a saint) exposing her work
with the poor as a self-serving mission to save souls for God and that alone.  Mother Teresa admitted as much in an
interview with Hitchens.  The Vatican Council, during their trial to evaluate the “saintliness” of Mother Teresa even
called Hitchens in as the “Devil’s Advocate” to criticize Mother Teresa and make a case against her life (of course his
council did not win the day).  Here is a “holy” woman, a “saint,” by the most general of Christian standards and she
devoted her life to working with the poor, but what did she really do?  Did she actually raise any individuals or
families or villages or societies out of socio-economic poverty?  No.  Did she try to alleviate the suffering of the poor
she came into contact with by constructing hospitals, family planning centers, job-training centers, modern schools?  
No.  What did she do?  She mythologized the idea of being “poor” and told the poor that they were truly blessed
and would be rewarded in the next life, in the coming “kingdom of God.”  All she did was save souls, and whatever
material comfort she might have given the various individuals that came into contact with her was a secondary
concern.  Thus, I do make a generalization, yes, but based upon the creed-driven religion that you follow, the
primary mission of Christianity is to “save souls for Christ” and ministering to the socio-economic needs comes a
distant second – at best!  And your uncritical and shallow invocation of Martin Luther King Jr. is a great case in
point.  Martin Luther King Jr. was not initially interested in the civil rights movement.  He was a Christian minister, as
you point out, primarily interested in being a minister and saving souls.  For the first part of his career, King tried to
address racism and inequality through Christianity and the Southern Baptist Church