Putting science, physics, and mathematics aside, ever wonder why divine revelations are so damn ambiguous. Think on it for a moment. Presumably, getting the concept of God right determines either our happiness in life or our eternal fate in death, or perhaps both. Yet, the revealed path to nirvana or salvation or even spiritual peace has been left to contentious dialogue or debate emanating from remarkably obscure directions and often vague hints from the guy (or gal) in charge. You would think an omniscient, loving divinity would do a better job at this critical task.

Why is that? Why are the presumed words of God (or truth) delivered in such an ambiguous and obtuse manner. Whether the Bible, the Quoran, the Vedas, or other spiritual sources, the pathway to righteousness is frustratingly indirect and downright confusing. Millions have been slaughtered in violent conflicts about what the sacred words mean or how to understand their intent. This strikes me as rather clumsy, or at least inexplicable, especially for an omniscient and allegedly caring entity enjoying divine attributes. What’s going on here?

While one could select any one of a number of holy or revered works, let’s focus on the classic Christian text … the Bible. After all, most of us have a passing familiarity with said document. I must admit, though, my detailed knowledge of this holy book is indeed sparse, despite my early religious devotion and study. Unlike Protestants, we Catholics relied more on our institutional hierarchy as opposed to the presumed word of God for ultimate truth and spiritual guidance. We rejected Martin Luther’s path to salvation through some personal connection with God’s grace as revealed in scripture. No, we were to obey our church and all its official representatives, including following all those arcane rules. Neither our own conscience nor merely reading the good book was sufficient to be saved. So, most of us never really read the damn thing. Clearly, my lack of experience and familiarity with said work might well result in many errors below.

In addition, let us stay with the New Testament. The Old Testament, after all, takes us back into the deeper history of the Jewish tribes. These ancient Judaic texts evolved over the course of many centuries during the long pre-christian era. They largely portray a fierce and unbending image of an authoritarian deity that seems strikingly at odds with the generally kinder image Jesus presented to his followers.

That’s really not surprising. After all, these ancient tribes were struggling to survive in a harsh environment surrounded by many strong, rather vicious enemies. Any useful God during this period would necessarily facilitate tribal identity, enforce cultural homogeneity, and promise military and political supremacy when things looked dire. And things were perpetually dire during those times.

Let’s start with a few basics. Can we know anything about Jesus from studying the Bible? Consider this. The historical Jesus, if real, spoke Aramaic. The teachings, actions, and events attributed to this teacher, prophet, or divine personage were first passed on in an oral tradition before being recorded by various individuals largely unknown to history. Names were assigned to various gospels but the real authors are shrouded in mystery. But scholars generally believe that they first passed from oral to a written form some two to four or more generations after the events described took place.

In effect, we are getting hearsay evidence (not admissible in court) that later went through several translations with all the linguistics misinterpretation and innocent (or not so innocent) errors attending to such reworkings. Aramaic sequed to Greek and then to Latin and finally to various indigenous languages. The latter transitions oft took place during contentious religious and/or political times. The King James version of the Holy Book was as much a political document as it was a spiritual guidebook. It was designed to repudiate heretical Papist leanings.

Moreover, politics were inevitably involved in the original selection of the holy works … those fortunate ones deemed suitable for inclusion in the document as sanctioned by the then church powers. Apparently, God’s word were the winners of a heated competition about the nature of Christ, the character of His message, and the ultimate organizational framework for this rapidly growing cult in the 4th century AD. Defining truth was not an easy undertaking.

We all know that Christianity got a huge boost from the Roman Emperor Constantine in 312 AD, presumably after seeing the vision of a cross during a successful military campaign. Whatever his motivations, he decriminalized non standard religious practices including Christianity. Likely finding the growing Christian community a useful ally in facilitating homogeneity within his far flung empire, he gave this pesky and persistent sect his imperial approval.

But there was a problem. By this time there were numerous written Gospels spreading different ‘words’ throughout this nascent community. These competing versions of the truth tended to divide believers and foster bitter disputes within the flock. Such internal dissention  proved counter productive to fostering a common culture.

Constantine started the process of forging a consensus theology by convening the Council of Nicea in 325. This meeting of the Church’s hierarchy did little to create a common set of approved texts. It did, however, establish the divine nature of the historical Jesus figure, thus repudiating a widespread Arian Heresy which posited that the Christ figure was a mortal merely representing God’s word on earth … that is, a mere teacher or prophet. It further developed an initial version of the Nicene Creed that summarized acceptable Christian beliefs.

The Bible we know today was developed in the latter decades of the 4th century. Homogeneity within the growing institutional church demanded an agreed upon holy text. How else could a firm authority be established? This was accomplished through three gatherings of church officials … the Council of Rome (382 AD), the Synod of Hippo (393), and the Council of Carthage (397). In effect, the Bible was created by a committee or, more accurately, several committees. And who said committees were worthless?

Why the desperate need for conformity? As the Roman empire was unraveling politically, a core belief was essential to sustaining social cohesion, or so it was thought. Even then, some 300 years after the initial Gospels emerged, the number of writings, and their diversity of thought, remained a threat to a coherent institutional framework. People took religion, or at least the threat of a painful afterlife, quite seriously. Getting stuff right was damn important. You might be burned alive in life (or for eternity in death) for getting it wrong.

How disconnected were the theological threads found in these many Gospels? We will never really know since most contrarian writings disappeared after the official Councils determined an approved version of the truth … that is, when they chose which versions of the truth to bless and which to condemn and erase. But we can glean some ideas from the scraps that survived this early version of Christian censorship and book burning.

Focusing on the core issue of the character of Christ, several distinct interpretations coexisted in these early works. The nature of Jesus found in the acceptable Gospels generally picture him as a divine being (more on this below). Fragments of other gospels  labeled as heretical, the writings attributed to Thomas and Mary Magdelan for example, define him in more human terms. He is not even especially unique, in some respects at least. Anyone who embraces the Word of God and spreads such to others can be considered a Christ, or at least a Christ-like figure. Beliefs like this would be dangerous to what was still a cult yet battling with traditional belief systems for dominance in the Roman world. Christ as an authentic and living deity would carry much more weight in the battle to establish whether my God was better than yours.

But here is what fascinates me. The nature of the Christ figure remains somewhat ambiguous within the Gospels that made the cut. The gospel according to John is the version where the issue is relatively clear  … Jesus is God. But his version, according to experts, was written somewhat after the others emerged. Temporally, it was the last of four chosen gospels to be developed.

By this time, the Christ as divine personage became more critical to cult followers as Jews began to reject the ‘savior’ as the authentic messiah even as inroads were being made among gentiles. Christ evolved away from the traditional messiah figure, a leader of men in a spiritual and political cause. He was increasingly seen as God in the flesh. That interpretation of the Christ figure was more marketable to those being recruited to the struggling sect.

Returning to my ambiguity theme, depictions of Christ in the first three accepted holy works seem to apresent a rather confusing picture. It strikes me that those authors leave room for multiple interpretations. Christ, on numerous occasions, asks his disciples to identify who he is. Then, he gives less than clear responses, if any. Was he the Jesus, the long promised Jewish Messiah, or not? Was he a guerrilla-type zealot dedicated to throwing over the Roman oppressors of Judea, or merely a spiritual leader updating ancient Jewish laws? Was he a prophet affirming God’s established law, or a deity himself announcing an entirely new set of beliefs? Did He not know himself or was He letting his disciples figure it out?

One has to admit, while the narrative (from birth to death and resurrection) is compelling drama, it is a confusing plot. Take the end game for instance. Jesus leads his followers into Jerusalem during Passover, the sacred Jewish holiday. For a rebellious, even dangerous, preacher in an unsettled time, this was a rash and foolish act. He then enters the city encouraging the crowd to call him the ‘son of David,’ suggesting a direct  lineage to political power. Not a good start to his visit since this raised questions about His real intentions. For some scholars, His purported actions suggested a revolutionary intent with distinctly political purposes.

Then what does He do? He enters the holy Temple and attacks those commercially profiting from the sacred sacrifices being done there. Perhaps a spiritually uplifting act (though don’t tell contemporary Evangelical grifters that) but also one clearly designed to stir up trouble. His actions literally beg for His arrest and persecution by the local Jewish religious leaders desperate to preserve the status quo while trying to keep Roman authorities happy.

So, what do these actions mean? What was He really up to? Was He one of many Jewish zealots who, in this volatile moment, believed the people would rise up with Him? Or did He anticipate His personal, and so very human, sacrifice as a spiritual testament and as a form of religious cleansing? Was His life devoted to leading the Jews out of bondage or was He pursuing profounder, more eschatological insights? His actions and words can go either way, especially when viewed in what we know about the historical tenor of those times.

Let us take the story line suggested by that gospel written further from the actual event, the one attributed to John. Jesus, as God on earth, knows exactly what is going to happen to Him. It is a preordained plan and has little to do with overthrowing foreign oppression. If so, how should we think about the various supporting characters in this setting?

Is Judas Escariot not a hero, dutifully carrying out his part of the already written sacred scene? What about the Roman Prefect, Pontius Pilot? Should he not be cast as a villain for allegedly wanting to free Jesus (thus thwarting the divine plan) while the Jewish leaders are to be praised for pushing His guilt and execution? Should we view the end game with horror or exaltation? Frankly, I haven’t a clue. Many questions to ponder. And therein lies the Hell of it … each must decide for him or herself.

So, what to make of all this? We have texts that were reworked endlessly over many centuries, that were chosen by several committees, and that were written in ways that permit (encourage?) multiple, if not contradictory, interpretations. In some cases, ommission is as important as commission. Abortion is not mentioned in the New Testament. One can find vague references in older Jewish law but also the prescription that life begins at the first breath. Oddly enough, basic issues that tear apart  contemporary debate find little resolution in the holy words available to us. In fact, we find inconsistencies on most major topics throughout the entire text. Virtually any position can find some support or condemnation somewhere. How frustrating!

Assuming this is God’s word, why all the inconsistencies and obtuseness? Perhaps it is a kind of exam. Get the puzzle right and win the biggest prize of all. Or perhaps it is some form of an intelligence test? Solve the enigmas and find everlasting life, assuming that’s an appealing future for you. Then again, the consequences of getting things wrong are presumably so very dire. Get it wrong and face an eternity of excruciating pain. You would think we would be given an option to play, or not play, this game before it starts. I don’t recall such a choice. Do you?

Even as a kid, such things puzzled me. Why would an omniscient deity create such pathetic creatures only to put them through this awful test, give them confusing directions where so many of them would fail miserably, and then punish the losers in horrific ways? And why would God wish to spend eternity with any of this crowd in the first instance? Humans are not exactly winners to begin with. Really!

Worse still, not everyone starts at the same place. That’s what really got me back in my Catholic high school days. Wasn’t it unfair to Chinese or Mongolian kids who never heard of Christ? Sure, some believers never accepted the prospect of eternal Hell for these poor kids, but not all. It just seemed damn unfair to me. I felt pangs of guilt for them.

I sometimes would think of God as a scientist, using earth and humans as research subjects. Perhaps our whole human tragedy is merely a Ph.D. study taking place on some higher dimension. But that seems unlikely, I could never imagine any human subjects committee approving this kind of research proposal. Consider all the suffering and slaughter generated by the tiniest distinctions found in theological disputes, especially those small ones and not the few substantively significant differences. It all seems so bloody meaningless.

Here is my bottom line. If anything can be justified and supported by the so-called Words of God, then what meaning do these sacred books have? Can we realistically look to holy texts for moral guidance? After all, wars have been fought, genocides committed, peoples enslaved, and whole segments of populations (i.e., women) subjugated … all these heinous actions being rationalized and supported by accepted interpretations of holy scripture. And yes, some good acts and personal sacrifices have been done as well. It does cut both ways.

At the end of the day, for me at least, knowing that someone is church-going or Bible-reading tells me absolutely nothing about their moral fiber. Caring, compassion, and civility come from within as far as I can see. External punishments or fear of divine retribution do little, if anything, to embed a shred of goodness in people. After all is said and done, the golden rule, sentiments found in all spiritual traditions, do the best job of all. The rest is window dressing at best, potentially dangerous at worst.

Let me be clear on this. I have known people whose traditional faith has prompted them to lead better lives. And I have known many whose membership in a faith community has afforded them comfort and support. All that is good and to be commended. But I’ve also witnessed way too many who employ religious association as a cudgel to attack others and their beliefs. Organized religion is the ultimate two-edged sword. It can be used for good or evil. You must decide for yourself which way the scales might tilt.

In the end, goodness and worth lie within our own person, they appear intrinsic to each individual. I must say this, though. Most of the better, the most kind and loving people I’ve come across in my eight decades on this planet, have been agnostics or atheists. That’s something to ponder. Then again, I’ve known a few non-believers who were assholes. So, there’s that as well. That’s what makes life great, or perhaps a training ground for Hell. There are seldom clear answers.

Thanks for letting me get all this off my chest.