Saying Goodbye to YouTube Apologetics... For Now

Slowly but surely, I am reaching the end of my Bible diploma at UWTSD. The modules have given me an unprecedented appreciation for the humanities and scholarly approaches to the texts in the Bible and I am very grateful to all my lecturers (particular thanks to Prof. Catrin Williams, Dr. Jessica Keady, Angus Slater, and Beatrice Bandeniece). In some strange but inevitable way, however, there has been an increasing tension between my studies—reading the literature for myself, taking notes, and learning what the experts say—and the popular level apologetic discourses on the internet that we've all become so familiar with. 

In recent memory there have been too many incidents of pointless beef between online interlocutors for me to ignore, with both laypersons and accredited academics getting involved in reactionary personal drama over what someone said concerning the Bible. Some instances I have given my thoughts on over the last few months, particularly the incendiary galivanting of Derek Lambert from MythVision and the long-winded dumpster-fire discussions of Rob Rowe from Sentinel Apologetics. Both of these men have their strengths and weaknesses and I hold them both to relatively high esteem. I have been open about my indebtedness to Rowe for his academic spiritualism that I had at one point hoped to emulate; I have also been frank about Lambert's shortcomings as a person riddled with trauma from his own religious experience, which he projects upon those who affirm what he once believed. Critical inquiry are the means by which Rowe and Lambert seek to achieve their individual ends: defending the faith from criticism and criticising the faith respectively.

In a sense, there is nothing really new about what these two are doing. Activists of both religious and anti-religious convictions have been battling back-and-forth for the hearts and minds of the common folk for centuries. Today, however, has been a fresh emphasis on scholarly approaches to inform these attacks—the degree of which has never been seen before. A recent example of this can be seen in the release of the popular amateur documentary "Satan's Guide to the Bible" earlier this year. Christian apologists naturally reacted with staunch resistance and dismissal whilst counter-apologists lauded the documentary with unqualified (and I do mean unqualified) praise. The documentary itself uses scholarship as a conduit through which anti-religious (more precisely, anti-evangelical) perspectives are promoted, with an inordinate focus on attacking ironbound understandings of inspiration and inerrancy. 

Every symptom has a cause, of course, and these recent bickerings are only indicative of a greater infection long-rooted in online religious discourse. Once more, there is nothing new under the sun; religious discourse has always been ugly in some form or another. But things appear to have taken a turn for the worst since the turn of the 2020s. We like to think ourselves more sophisticated than the lunacy that was internet atheism and popular apologetics of the late 2000s, having embraced more academic ways of thinking about religious claims. But it seems that human nature does not change. The only thing that seems to has changed is the tacking-on of scholarship in an attempt to add weight to a vitriolic and narcissistic scene: It's "your scholars" versus "my scholars." The maturity of the discussion has not improved.

I've thus had to make a very necessary decision. I hereby renounce my involvement with this online scene. I will permanently reserve my comments on the back-and-forths between internet atheists and Christians. This blog will no longer prioritise these discussions, but will rather focus on the scholarship almost exclusively from here on out.

As a budding academic who is still in the early years of figuring the ins-and-outs of the world of higher education, I want to be able to sharpen my ability to analyse the evidence and follow it to the best of my ability. I also want to hone my skills as an interpreter, which requires me to perform paratextual and multidisciplinary approaches to the Bible and it's surrounding world. All of these elements that provide a firm basis for engaging with biblical scholarship are essential to the online discussions, but the online discussions themselves are not necessary to become a solid scholar. I have no need to participate in these discussions, an no up-and-coming scholar is really bound by any need to participate. In months and years past, I have seen it as merely a means through which I can learn in a more casual manner (usually when I hit burnout from reading too much). But now I no longer have that yearning to listen to those 5-hour livestreams or debates that brought so much entertainment. There is now a very apparent and undeniable tension between this online incarnation of biblical studies and the real deal in the published scholarship.

We have witnessed in decades prior where many theological conservatives refused to interact with the results of critical scholarship, either viewing it as an enemy to faith or not even knowing of its existence. Meanwhile, the internet sceptics preferred to attack religion on the grounds of moral failures and institutional corruption. Now that critical scholarship has entered the popular realm in such a pervasive manner since the turn of the decade, it has found itself being weaponised by activists of polar opposite convictions. We are distracted from the end goal of what humanities scholarship is, preferring to bash people over the head with things we convince ourselves are "facts" without taking into consideration alternative points of view.

This new development in my perception of online biblical studies (if it is even appropriate to call it such), is doubly a shame as I genuinely have learned a lot from viewing this online content. There is only so much reading I can do. We are all naturally dependent on others to be arbiters of information in some way or another; that is just the reality of the digital world. Figures like M. David Litwa, Ian Mills, and Laura Robinson have opened my eyes to many interesting facets of biblical studies. Moreoever, for all their behavioural failures, the arch nemeses of David Falk and Kipp Davis have similarly taught me a great deal about Egyptology and the Dead Sea Scrolls respectively. In an ideal world, these two would simply shake hands over a cold beer, put their differences aside, and agree to disagree. Instead, we have seen Falk irresponsibly lob chauvinistic comments at Exeter scholar Francesca Stavrakopoulou and Davis has taken it upon himself to try and discredit Falk in a vicious smear campaign that appears to occupy much of his time. When the two butt heads, it makes me feel like I'm in a bloody school playground! There is no need for anyone to waste their time with such pointless semantics.

By no means does this mean I will not endeavour to comment on the issues within this scene. Religious apologists and those who aim to counter their claims (regretfully) make up the vast majority of individuals popularising the content of biblical studies. For fair or ill, it is through these activists that the rest of the lay community—churchgoing or otherwisewill discover the scholarship. If there is something truly earth-shattering that occurs in that arena, I will consider evaluating it; I doubt I could resist the temptation anyways. But this nevertheless continues to reflect the crisis that biblical studies has when communicating its findings to lay audiences. There has to be a means by which this information gets disseminated, otherwise it will be condemned to the dust of library shelves and the empty traffic of unseen online journals. But as illustrated elsewhere and earlier, the means of this dissemination has been marred in personal politics and grudges. It is a tragic indicator of where the discipline is headed in the popular realm. 

Indeed, it is vitally important that both scholars and students of biblical studies understand the dynamics of how their scholarship is being received in popular circles, otherwise our discipline will simply devolve into a self-pontificating enterprise that fails to make any impact in the world of ordinary peoplenowhere is this effect needed more than in the humanities. One way or another, this should be the purpose of any field of inquiry: to further human knowledge with a comprehension of how non-specialists are reacting to and applying academic findings. This is why MythVision and Sentinel are vital elements to this aspect of religious and sceptical discourse.

As far as I'm concerned, however, there is little for anyone to learn from these online interlocutors anymore. It seems that we are less concerned about presenting cogent arguments and more focused on entrenching ourselves in our own beliefs for the sake of ulterior motives. Petty drama has superseded the need for strong evidence to buttress a deeply held perspective, even if a preference for the latter is outwardly expressed. This is why I elect to abandon this world and use this blog for more effective, literature-based analyses. Too many content creators have too much confidence with too little information, and this inevitably leads to drama between people who only have a portion of the facts. I refuse to be the Keemstar of online biblical studies (I leave that in the capable hands of Ben from the Amateur Exegete—make of that what you will).

One day I believe I will return to this scene in the hopes of making it a more inclusive and less toxic place. Perhaps the old Kerusso channel will be resurrected with the hopes of promoting a balanced view of scholarship and academic perspectives on the Bible. But that day is not this day. The dominant voices have spoken and war has been declared. Until these people grow the hell up, I'm done with YouTube apologetics drama.



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