Robert Winston’s ‘The Story of God’


Robert Winston is a very engaging and likeable man. With his bushy moustache and gently sonorous voice he is a distinct and reassuring presence – an ideal guide for television to use when trying to teach us about developments in science – an area in which he is most impressively qualified, and for which he is a most humane and impressive advocate. At the behest of those same television authorities, however, he is now guiding the viewer into ‘The Story of God’ – and this is a review of the book written to accompany the series. His results in the sphere of religion fall short of the standards he has achieved in the realm of science.

It is proclaimed as a more personal work than previous publications (eg “The human mind and how to make the most of it”) and there are indeed intriguing snippets of his own upbringing to provide interest for the reader. Winston is – at least culturally – an Orthodox Jew, although his sense of God seems lukewarm at best (“I am not an atheist… I am prepared to accept that God may exist” he writes in chapter one) and the book as a whole is compromised by an acceptance of conventional opinion in most of the areas he covers, not least Christianity.

In particular Winston perpetuates the false teaching that Paul was more responsible for the shape of the Christian religion than was Jesus Himself, writing (pp152-153) “In Paul’s letters Jesus was turned into a divine figure, because this would have been more appealing to his Greek audience, who had no pre-existing ideas about what a Messiah was” – one can hear the voice of AN Wilson at this point, whose work on Paul was the most recent transmitter of this mistake. To succeed in writing a book like this, Winston should have become acquainted with some proper New Testament scholarship, rather than the second hand (and rather neurotic) conventional thinking which still so characterises what passes for ‘educated’ discourse in our present society. Bishop Tom Wright’s ‘What St Paul really said’ would have been a good place to start. Winston does make some legitimate strikes against Christianity – not difficult, for clearly there is much in Christian history for which all Christians should repent in dust and ashes – but I suspect that his reliance on dubious sources has obscured for him just how Jewish a faith Christianity is.

In contrast to this, Winston seems to bend over backward to praise Islam, perpetuating the nonsense that Islam has historically been more benign than Christianity. He writes on p193 ‘[Islam] has also, since its earliest days, been a highly tolerant faith’ and later (p227) remarks that the Cathars who fled to the Balkans in the Middle Ages ‘became absorbed into the more tolerant Islam of the area’. Again it would seem that a reliance on conventional thinking has compromised his perspective; to have been effective, Winston should have at least addressed some alternative views on Islam, eg those of Robert Spencer (‘The Politically Incorrect guide to Islam’).

Whilst I enjoyed reading this book, and, indeed, learned many interesting details from it, I couldn’t recommend it from either a Christian point of view, or from a general reading point of view. For a neutral reader there are better overviews of the history available (Karen Armstrong’s ‘The Story of God’ being perhaps the best, and one of the main sources for Winston), whereas for a Christian there are too many errors, omissions and misinterpretations for it to be worth investing time and treasure in. It is disappointing to think that, on the back of Winston’s fame and not inconsiderable charm, this book is likely to sell well, thereby perpetuating various damaging distortions and conventional misrepresentations about Christianity in our society, and inhibiting the spread of the gospel.

The parable of the talents

A couple of weeks ago we had this parable in the Matthew version for Sunday, and in the Luke version for the following Wednesday. Doing a bit of background reading made me wonder about the right way to interpret it.

My favourite lectionary site had a link to a remarkable paper that persuaded me that the references to a ‘king’ in Matthew’s parables were not necessarily – or even usually – references to Jesus or God, but in fact had specific political and contemporary resonances for those listening to Jesus teach. And I recall – though I cannot track down quite where – a reference to (I think) one of the Herods going to Rome to receive approval to become King ruling over the land of Israel. So I think there is this contemporary resonance to the parable of the talents – and that it isn’t, in the first place, a question of encouraging Calvinistic prudence.

So what is it about? Well, let’s run with the idea that Jesus is referring to a specific king (first) and that he is criticising a particular attitude, probably of the Pharisees (second) – given that this is where the parable fits in Matthew, in the context of the woes etc. Clearly the Pharisees, and even the general population, would have identified with the third servant, who didn’t provide the wicked king with a return on the investment made. And it is this attitude that Jesus is criticising.

Might it be that in fact Jesus is criticising the attitude of militant resistance? In other words, that where there is a usurper on the throne, the point need not be to overthrow or resist such a king – that reaps where they do not sow – but to get on with the business of life, thereby possibly achieving authority locally (over the ‘ten cities’ – presumably the area of the Decapolis?) leading to greater wealth for all? So an emphasis on prudence – not because the king is God, but because the king is wicked and exploitative, and that it doesn’t matter about whether the king gets more from you if you do more, what matters is ensuring that there is sufficient wealth to go round. The militant resistance of the third servant is held up as destructive; the cooperation is held up as fruitful.

This seems to chime with the idea that God rains upon the just and the unjust etc. We shouldn’t get caught up with, if you like, resisting capitalist exploitation. We should concern ourselves with God prospering the work of our hands.

I’m not entirely happy with this reading, but I prefer it to seeing the king as God, ready to damn us for being afraid.

Control, trust, hope

I wonder if you are familiar with the Enneagram?

My previous spiritual director was well acquainted with it – used to teach it for the church in various locations – and we came to the conclusion that I was an ‘eight’ – there are nine types, signified by numbers, but with more interesting ‘descriptions’ as well.

The principal issues for an eight revolve around fear, control and trust. Eights interpret their earliest experiences in terms of being bullied, which provoke various strategies to achieve safety – in their extreme, they are strategies to pursue invulnerability. The first questions that an eight will ask are about who is in control – and should they be in control? Eights are happy under a strong authority, but if there isn’t a clear authority, then they will move forward to take control themselves.

So: fear moves towards control, but the path of spiritual growth for the eight is to move from that control to trusting. For the truth is that God is in control, and there can never be a time when we do not surrender to God, and God’s will. God is in charge, and that is the spiritual issue for the eight.

Which is why the issue of peak oil has been on my mind so much. I do have some relevant background experience on the issue, partly from understanding economics, but also from my time in the Civil Service working on the nuclear industry. Until a month or so ago, I accepted Bjorn Lomborg‘s analysis of the energy situation, viz that oil supplies have increased and are increasing, and that the rise in oil prices will of themselves enforce the gradual transition from oil to alternative energy sources.

What understanding Peak Oil has done is knock away that confidence – in other words, here is the prospect of havoc in our society, and for someone who values control, ie things being under control, that is profoundly disconcerting. It has brought into the open various assumptions that I had made about the pattern of my life and the path that it might reasonably be expected to take. I now think that my working life – ie the next thirty years – will be very different. (How do you make God laugh? – tell him your long term plans.)

In the Daily Office at the moment we use the language of ‘the darkness of this age that is passing away’. I take comfort from that; from the knowledge that the church has abided through crises similar to the one we are now facing; and that God will not leave himself without witnesses.

Yet an abiding hope for the future is not the same as a confidence that I will see it; or that my family will see it; or even that our local society (Mersea, Essex, England, the West) will see it.

For the other central concerns of an eight revolve around justice. Our society – globalised and oil dependent – is profoundly unjust. And unjust societies are unsustainable – it was part of the genius of the prophets to recognise that; think of Amos and the plumb line.

I remember reading this article a few years ago. It’s relevance increases the more time goes on. We should tremble more when we consider that God is just.

And yet.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young. Let him sit alone in silence, for the LORD has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust— there may yet be hope. Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him, and let him be filled with disgrace. For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.”

After the oil crash

Probably the best overall site on peak oil here.

Raising awareness done best from here.

The Swedish government has committed itself to going ‘off oil’ from 2020. I wish them luck.

There are possibilities available now. Yet – despite a full knowledge of the issue – the politicians are either doing nothing, or, worse, planning wars on a ‘last man standing’ philosophy.

If we rely on human nature to get us through then we are truly *&£$ed.

I’d say something optimistic about relying on the grace of God, but I’m thinking more about Jeremiah.

“Your own conduct and actions
have brought this upon you.
This is your punishment.
How bitter it is!
How it pierces to the heart!”

Oh, my anguish, my anguish!
I writhe in pain.
Oh, the agony of my heart!
My heart pounds within me,
I cannot keep silent.
For I have heard the sound of the trumpet;
I have heard the battle cry.

Disaster follows disaster;
the whole land lies in ruins.
In an instant my tents are destroyed,
my shelter in a moment.

How long must I see the battle standard
and hear the sound of the trumpet?

“My people are fools;
they do not know me.
They are senseless children;
they have no understanding.
They are skilled in doing evil;
they know not how to do good.”

I looked at the earth,
and it was formless and empty;
and at the heavens,
and their light was gone.

I looked at the mountains,
and they were quaking;
all the hills were swaying.

I looked, and there were no people;
every bird in the sky had flown away.

I looked, and the fruitful land was a desert;
all its towns lay in ruins
before the LORD, before his fierce anger.

A new kind of Christianity

Over the last few weeks I have been reading Brian McLaren’s trilogy ‘A new kind of Christian’. It’s very good, stimulating, (for more info have a look here and here) but the disconcerting thing is how close most of the material is to what I have been trying to cover in my own book.

(Later addition: lots of material also here.)

McLaren seems to be writing from a perspective emerging out of fundamentalist evangelicalism; my perspective is the polar opposite – a history of emerging out of a fundamentalist scientism – but the place we end up in is similar. Which raises the question – do I need to write my book at all? Because now, when I want to point people towards an understanding of Christianity which I’m not ashamed of I can say ‘have a look at Brian McLaren’s stuff’. There are interesting links with some of the Radical Orthodoxy material, which I also appreciate, although I’d never send a novice in their direction. Perhaps that’s where my book has something to say – not so much the shift away from the Reformation emphasis, which McLaren covers pretty thoroughly, as towards the high-medieval roots that the RO people identify. Maybe I have one or two other things to add.

I’m going on retreat next week, and I’m going to be taking his ‘A Generous Orthodoxy’ with me, (along with Peterson’s ‘Christ Plays…’). This’ll be one of the main things I’ll be reflecting on.

Lady Julian

One of the best Learning Church sessions yet (from my point of view), on Julian of Norwich. Did me a lot of good to do some revision and new research – primarily via Grace Jantzen’s excellent book on her – and finally understanding the Lord and his Servant analogy.

Looks like we might even get to go on a pilgrimage – I thought we might need a minibus, but was assured that a coach would be more appropriate :o)

“Know it well, love was his meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love. What did he reveal to you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For love. Remain in this, and you will know more of the same. But you will never know different, without end.”

How many are saved?

The question about how many are saved (Luke 13 22-30) is a strikingly sharp one. Investigating the answer can lead to one of two opposed problems. Either, as with Jesus’ questioner, there is a sense of being righteous, and therefore a spiritual pride – a pride which Jesus effectively debunks by pointing out how many will come from East and West and North and South into the kingdom – in other words it isn’t just for the Jews.

Or else there is the opposite problem of fear – a fear of being condemned by God, of not coming up to the mark. This is a problem because love and fear are opposites, and this sort of fear is crippling, radically inhibiting the possibility of showing forth love in our world. Which is what we are here for.

I understand that the orthodox explicitly teach that salvation is a mystery that it is unhealthy to spend too much time considering. We have to concentrate on being loving, depending solely on grace, and allowing that love to be demonstrated by our lives. We are to trust and depend solely on the mercy of God. Too much time considering ‘How many are saved?’ ends up with sectarian strife. Something which our Anglican Communion may need to ponder a little further, today especially.

Schleiermacher and mysticism

Came across this and was reminded strongly of my gripes about Robert Pirsig’s understanding of mysticism, which I wrote about here. I’d want to rephrase some of the points about Kant in that paper, but I think the basic argument has held up quite well. Nice to know I’m not the only sceptic on that front (and that much of the reverence towards “Eastern religion” is in fact a ‘return of the repressed’ – in other words, the Eastern philosophies, Kyoto school etc, were first influenced by Western philosophy, before they then became popular in the West as something ‘foreign’).

I’ve started up my ‘Learning Church’ sessions again, which are still – remarkably – popular. I’m going to do three sessions on Christian Mysticism next month, when all of the debates I have had on the MoQ list will bear fruit, I trust.