Category: Catholicism

  • Jesus Was Not a Good Man

    Jesus Was Not a Good Man

    Was Jesus just a good man or a good teacher? Dr. Ray, a psychologist, argues that “good man” is not a choice Jesus left open to us. He walks through why the apostles’ own lives and the content of Jesus’ teaching do not fit the theories that try to get around who he claimed to be.

    “Jesus was not a good man”

    Jesus was not a good man. You heard me right. Jesus was not a good man, if that’s all he was. If he were only a man, then he knew when he talked and acted like God that it was an act. He knew he wasn’t God. So really, he set people up to be punished and killed to follow him. If he truly thought he was God but he wasn’t, then he was similar to some of the people I used to assess at the state hospitals. He was crazy. He was either God, or he was something far worse.

    You can’t get around Jesus by saying he was a good man. That’s fascinating, because many of the intelligentsia, people at universities, folks who fancy themselves great thinkers, just declare, “Well, he was a good teacher, like Buddha, like Gandhi.” No, he wasn’t. He didn’t even know his identity if he wasn’t God. He was claiming to be something he wasn’t.

    So there’s no middle ground, as C.S. Lewis said. He didn’t intend to give us a middle ground. He either is who he said he is, or he’s a lot worse. He’s not a normal human being. That’s your choice.

    “Why are you going to be martyred for making stuff up?”

    Now, I have seen people try to get around this conundrum by saying that the stuff about him thinking and talking and acting like God, his followers put that in there. They wrote it in because they had to make him a little bigger than he was. He’s not just another rabbi guru. He’s getting a bunch of followers, getting thumbs up. We’ve got to make him bigger than he is if we have any chance of overthrowing the Roman Empire. We’ve got to go at this from a different angle. We can’t throw him over militarily, so we’ve got to figure out how to change hearts and minds. I know what we’ll do. We’ll make this guy God.

    That’s the thinking. I’ve heard that thinking. It’s a nice little speculative hypothesis by people who want to do away with having to make the decision regarding who Jesus was. But here’s a problem with that. We have pretty good historical evidence that the apostles, almost all of them, were martyred. You’re going to be martyred for making stuff up about a guy? You can give up your life for that?

    And here’s another thing. We know they traveled. Thomas, tradition tells us, was in India. Matthew, Africa. Wait a minute. If you’re trying to overthrow the Roman Empire, you don’t have to go to India. Nothing over there. What are you trying to preach? You’re trying to preach a lie that this guy was God? What for?

    So he either is who he said he is, or you can’t trust the Gospel as history. You don’t even have to trust it as God’s word. Just trust it as history. These guys wrote down the things he said and did, and you have to say that when they wrote it down, they wildly embellished it. And if you say that, you have to ask, like a good detective, what was their motive? Why? As far as we can tell, these guys were pretty faithful Jews. For them to declare that some guy was God, when they knew he wasn’t, they would be jeopardizing their eternal destiny. Jews didn’t do that. Jews were fearfully monotheistic. This makes no sense. None. Why would they jeopardize not only their souls but their lives? For what? To make up a bunch of stuff about this guy?

    Where is the craziness in his teaching?

    Here’s the other problem you have. Let’s just say he was crazy. Okay, then let’s look at what he said. Take away all the stuff where he was saying he was God, acting like God, talking like God. Just take his teachings, his parables. I’m a shrink. I’ve read them many times, not because I’m such a wonderful Bible scholar, but because I go to Mass. If you go to Mass for three years, you pretty much hear the whole Gospel.

    There’s not a whiff of craziness in what he talked about. Nothing. You would expect that if he’s crazy, this whole idea that “I’m God” would spill over into what he says about how to live your life. But it didn’t. What he said about how to live your life is sublime. It makes total sense. And whether psychology admits it or not, read my book, Jesus, The Master Psychologist. Research supports the kind of stuff Jesus said for more contented, stable, peace-filled living.

    So where’s the craziness in his teaching? Is this craziness only circumscribed in his self-identity? If you don’t know who you are, you are really crazy, because that is at the core of reality. Who are you? If Jesus said, “I’m God, that’s who I am,” then he’s crazy if he’s not God. Or he’s very calculating, if he knew he wasn’t God and figured, “I’ve got to get some followers. What’s the best way to do this?”

    But even that doesn’t make sense, because he’s not going to get followers by saying he’s God when he’s in a fiercely Jewish community that says, “Our God is one.” Why would you try to convince them otherwise? The only way he could convince them otherwise was to show it. He had to do things that they couldn’t account for. Miracles, signs, wonders, where they said, “How does he do this?” He’s claiming this, but yet he can do this. Even his enemies knew that. Even his enemies said, “Yeah, we’ll admit you do it, but you do it through the power of Satan.” And of course Jesus, as always, has a wonderful response. A couple of sentences, and he just shoots them down.

    So don’t let anybody tell your kids, if they go to college, or anybody you talk to, “Well, I’ll admit Jesus was a good man. He was a good teacher. He had a lot of nice ideas about how to live life.” You just look at them and say, “Well, you must not know much about the Gospels at all then.” Because that’s not even a possibility. He can’t have been just a good man.


    Dr. Ray makes the case for what Jesus taught in Jesus, the Master Psychologist: Listen to Him.

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.

  • Spiritual, but not Religious – Means Agnostic

    Spiritual, but not Religious – Means Agnostic

    What does “spiritual but not religious” really mean? Dr. Ray explains why he thinks the phrase sounds enlightened but is closer to agnosticism, and who ends up setting the terms.

    “I’m spiritual but not religious”

    Have you noticed that folks like to say things that sound enlightened and smart? But if you spent any amount of time thinking about them or analyzing them, they really are incredibly shallow and perhaps just flat out dumb. One of those, and I’m sure every single person listening has heard someone say it, is “I’m spiritual but not religious.” Maybe you’ve said it yourself at one point in your life. Hopefully you’re not still saying it.

    My first response to that is, what in the heck does that mean? You’ve got to define spiritual and you’ve got to define religious. So that’s the first problem: usually they’re self-defined. If anybody says that to you, you could start the conversation by asking, “What do you mean by spiritual?” And then, “What do you mean by religious?”

    When somebody says, “I’m spiritual not religious,” I think what they think they’re saying is, “I am not irreligious. I am not an atheist. I am closer to God, if he’s part of their spirituality, and a lot of times he isn’t, than this rote religion type stuff.” So while they mean to imply that they have some more mature kind of spiritual connection to whatever, actually it’s the opposite. They are closer to being agnostic.

    “I worship me”

    Dr. Ray, what are you talking about? Let me explain, Lucy. I’m spiritual. Spiritual to what? For many it just means, “Well, I believe there’s a higher power. There’s a higher something out there looking over us. This isn’t all there is.” Some of them may even say, “Yeah, I believe that something else is God.” Maybe not the God of the Bible, but the God. Given all that, they feel like they’ve got some kind of connection. They’re not just muddling along, paying no attention to anything other than what is here and now.

    Sometimes they will say, “I’m spiritual in the sense that I want a connection to something bigger than myself.” I was watching a sitcom once and she was trying to get her husband to go to church. He didn’t want to go, so he asked her, “Why do you go?” And she said, and I think this captures a vague spirituality, “Well, I just want to think there’s something bigger than ourselves, something more.” All right, that may be a tiny baby step toward God, but it’s meaningless, because what “I’m spiritual” ultimately means is I worship me.

    That’s not what it means, Dr. Ray? Of course it does. I define it. I say what’s spiritual. If I have a connection with the universe, or let’s take it all the way out: I like to pray, I believe there is a God, I even believe that Jesus is God. Take it all the way out and somebody calls that spiritual, and then they say, “But I want no part of religion.”

    Religion without any rules

    Now, here’s the other cliche. What do you mean by religion? Typically they mean rules, regulations, laws, responsibilities, and they want no part of that. All right, then who decides? Obviously you do. If you don’t want any part of what has been traditionally recognized as God in the flesh through Christ, or even if you’re not a Christian, the God who created the universe, if you don’t want any part of his recommendations for moral living, you just know that’s religion. And what do you follow? You follow you. In irony, you’re very religious. Why would I say that? Because you set the terms. If you set the terms on what spirituality is and what is not religious, then you’re 100% following them, because they’re yours. Why wouldn’t you?

    I think “I’m spiritual but not religious” is a way of saying, “Well, I don’t think this is all there is, but I still want to live the way I want to live. I still want to do it my way,” in the words of the song. So it’s a nice, enlightened-sounding out. I can decide which of these spiritual commitments I want to follow. I can be spiritual and have sex before marriage. I can be spiritual and believe that it’s OK to kill a baby in a womb. I can be spiritual and not pray but once a month and a half, if life throws something in my way and I better cry out to some being that’s up there somewhere in my spirituality. Yeah, I can do that. That’s all spiritual, isn’t it? Spiritual, meaningless. If it’s not attached to anything, it’s attached to me, the worship of the self.

    “Well, I just don’t buy these religions who stand between me and Jesus.” But what if Jesus said, “Here is how you connect with me. Here is how you follow me”? I can just imagine me saying to my wife, “Honey, I got to tell you, I am spiritually married to you, but I don’t really want any responsibilities, any kind of commitment, any kind of moral guidelines to this marriage. Just be satisfied that our marriage is spiritual.” How far would that go? Or with anybody: “Don’t ask me to do anything for you, but just know that I feel spiritual toward you. I feel connected. Well, if you’re sick and in the hospital, don’t ask me to visit you, because that’s kind of like a demand. That’s kind of like a responsibility, and that’s like a religious thing.”

    “I’m spiritual, but not religious.” That is one of the dumbest things that somebody can say. And the irony is it sounds so smart, it sounds so enlightened. They haven’t defined spiritual and they haven’t defined religious. And what’s worse is they’ve made religion into something that is not a beautiful way to connect with God and Jesus Christ.


    Dr. Ray tackles the hard questions about living the faith in everyday life in Family Faith Under Fire.

    Transcript of Dr. Ray’s audio blog, lightly edited for reading.