In thinking about Exodus, I was reminded of the time several years ago that I was reading the book and something went 'click' in my head; the contrast between four generations and four centuries mentioned in Genesis 15:12-16. Specifically (from Exodus 6), even if Levi's son Kohath was born just before the move to Egypt (cf Genesis 46), and Amram was born just before he died age 133, and Moses was born just before he died age 137, the Israelite's departure when Moses was 80 is still closer to 300 years in that absurd scenario than the 400 years mentioned in Genesis. Those four generations found in Exodus 6 (and Genesis 15 again) are far shorter than the 430 years of Exodus 12:40-41.
I'd read about the documentary hypothesis of the pentateuch's formation previously in Josh McDowall's apologetics, but it was the fact of personally noticing the two contrasting claims replicated in the two separate books which actually convinced me that there was something to the J and E sources, at least. (The traditions represented by the divided kingdom of Israel and Judah seems the simplest explanation, from what I know.)
Anyways, this reminded me of some other things I'd previously mused over regarding the process and nature of 'belief' which I think have considerable bearing on the various topics discussed in these forums, and regarding just how subjective our process of forming beliefs can be (relevant bits in purple, for those not interested in my ramblings
- Monday, 2 August 2004
As seems so often to be the case in my life, I find myself sitting at a computer and writing in an attempt to straighten out my thoughts a bit. Writing in a coherent manner forces one to first put ones thoughts into a coherent order. Care must be put into consideration of format, content, intelligibility and, most importantly, plausibility. Moreover, the results are then preserved for future reference or, even if never looked back on, have been concreted in the mind by the process of deeper consideration and writing.
However while my situation is in this respect familiar, in another sense it is quite different to any other Ive been in through my life. I write now to consider the strange matter of a world without Christianity; a world in which I no longer believe that which I formerly considered to be the very centrepiece of my worldview. To be fair, I had at times mused on whether it was this or my deeply rational attitude which I cherished more dearly; which, if it came to it, I would reject sooner. But ultimately Id always avoided that question on the grounds of what I considered to be its patent absurdity. How could Christianity, that model of sensibility, come into conflict with rational thought?
Well, limited in scope though it may be, that conflict has come and I have found no reasonable, honest conclusion except that Christianity cannot be true. So now after nearly a month of what Ive called a transitional phase - doing whatevers pleased me at the time with only the occasional musing on what beliefs and principles I should now turn to - I must now begin to consider that question in earnest. Thus without further pre-cognitive ramblings, I should first ask myself what I consider to be appropriate grounds for any reasonable worldview.
I once wrote that there were four grounds on which beliefs could be held; convenience of belief (such as following in the beliefs of ones parents), attractiveness of belief (choosing beliefs which hold a superficial appeal for whatever reason), reasonability of belief (believing that which has the strongest objective support) and spirituality of belief (following a path to belief which lies beyond the normal world). I reasoned that the transient circumstances dictating convenience and personal preferences determining attractiveness were no grounds on which to judge truths about reality. Of the latter two I could prove neither better than the other, save that spirituality is usually not subject to the same objective tests of reliability as the other.
Leaving aside for the moment the question of whether or not these four categories are accurate or comprehensive enough, the simple fact is that for the moment I have no strong basis for any worldview from either of the last two areas. . . .
- Friday, 13 May 2011
On Friday the 13th I'm watching, among other movies, The Cable Guy. I'm currently at the scene in Medieval Times where Chip fights Whatshisface, and even after half a dozen plus viewings it's still laugh-out-loud funny. Not from the scene itself, but thanks to my cousin - who, having watched the movie with my brother once or twice, was in the habit of staging just such a battle complete with Jim Carrey's sound effects.
I'd also tonight watched Bad Eggs for what I believe is the second time - I bought it on DVD yesterday. Reflecting on it afterwards, there's a scene in it very similar in comedic effect to one in Galaxy Quest - but while on second viewing of Bad Eggs I again laughed for two or three minutes straight at the scene (upsetting the cat on my lap, I regret to add), since I've owned Galaxy Quest for much longer it's often now little more than a chuckle at a scene which originally was just as humorous.
Bad Eggs initially spawned a few thoughts on the mechanics of comedy in the five or ten minutes before I put on the next movie; but Cable Guy has spawned some thoughts on the value of associating images with memories - in this case not even my own memory, but my brother's description of our cousin's antics. However, to this very day at times I'll hear a certain song or see a particular movie scene and be reminded of events, thoughts or feelings from way back in my childhood. By themselves, the songs or movies or whatever mean nothing; but as aspects of my personal history, they acquire additional meaning.
Since I've been drinking, I'm not sure to what extent I originally expected to develop this line of thought - or whether I just intended to mention it and perhaps see if anything would spring from it, as is often the case. As it turns out, I want to get back to my movie, and the only thought of even marginal value which has occurred is this; the value of face-to-face, word of mouth communication. I can remember some online dialogues from years ago, but far more commonly and hopefully more clearly do I remember specific events and conversations in my immediate personal experience - indeed several I have mentioned in this very journal. Obviously, the priority of ideas encompasses also coherence and acceptability . . . . and it's just occurred to me that 'acceptability' could be judged by religious or social-worldview standards as easily as epistemological or 'evidence/logic' standards (which themselves vary from person to person).
Perhaps then, approaching midnight on Friday the 13th of May in 2011, I'm approaching a better classification of belief than the one I recorded seven years ago (August 2nd), albeit conceived earlier. That classification, as recorded in the first entry of this journal, two days shy of a month after I'd lost my Christian faith, were as follows:- I once wrote that there were four grounds on which beliefs could be held; convenience of belief (such as following in the beliefs of ones parents), attractiveness of belief (choosing beliefs which hold a superficial appeal for whatever reason), reasonability of belief (believing that which has the strongest objective support) and spirituality of belief (following a path to belief which lies beyond the normal world).
I'm not sure if or how well a corresponding (or perhaps alternative) 'priority of ideas' - based on acceptability, coherence and internalisation (for my current lack of a better word to describe the value of personal experience or event-memory in the preservation of thoughts) - might be worked into or over that frame-work. But it's a thought worth remembering for later.
Is there any such thing as objectively considering the 'evidence'?
I suspect that many folk will say that we can't be objective in our assessment (as indeed they have in the past). So more pertinently, I'd like to ask how we each consider the evidence, knowledge or factoids we encounter in our lives. And what are the similarities and differences from person to person?
I suspect it's a lot easier to acknowledge the impossibility of objectivity than to consider the areas (and perhaps depth) of subjectivity to which we're all prone.

