Actually, they are already here. The convergence of the atheist-elite on Minneapolis has already been the occasion for some amusing contretemps at our favorite tourist destination, the Mall of America: read about it here at the blog of one of the principals.
I think some of the local faithful regard the timing of the convention, over Easter weekend, as a deliberately provocative gesture. But probably it is more likely that this is a slow week for hotels and convention centers and that the atheists, having nothing else to do on a liturgically significant weekend, were able to swing a good deal.
Personally, I have been shoveling snow and watching basketball on television. Then this morning, to mark the holiday but mainly for the hell of it, I read the various passion narratives in the gospels and was reminded of a phrase--"the synoptic problem"--that had played a part in the long-ago of my educational past. The phrase refers to the fact that the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke tell the same story, in the same way, with mostly the same details, right down to the very same words. This suggests a literary relationship between the gospel texts that New Testament scholarship has attempted to unravel. I don't know how things may have changed, but back in the day the favored theory was that Mark was composed first, and that the authors of Matthew and Luke used--often just copied--the earlier gospel in producing their own.
From this premise there developed the interpretive strategy of comparing carefully the differences between the synoptic gospels, on the theory that the particular concerns and viewpoints of the various authors would be revealed in their abridgements, addenda, insertions, and other assorted divergences from the main source. Reading the passion narratives side by side, for instance, one notices that Matthew 27:41-44 matches, nearly word for word, Mark 15:31-32, but that the author of Luke incorporates this same material into a considerably longer account (see Luke 23:35-43). The extra language all has to do with the soldiers who mock Jesus and the criminals who are crucified with him. Both groups are merely mentioned in Matthew and Mark; Luke enlarges, emphasizing the mocking contempt of the soldiers and the righteousness of one of the criminals who, at the conclusion of this special Lukan material, receives from Jesus the promise of a place in Paradise.
Patterns emerge when the divergences are collected and examined, and one concerns the evident interest of the author of Luke in criminals, outcasts, and others scorned by the conventionally religious. Almost all of Mark is found in either Matthew or Luke, or both, but it is the uniquely Lukan material that contains, for example, the famous parables of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:29-37) and the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32), both of which involve the elevation of a despised individual over those with superior religious credentials. That Luke's passion narrative should include Jesus' blessing of one of the criminals with whom he was crucified is of a piece with parables found only in Luke.
I don't expect the convening atheists to spend their Easter reading the Bible but it occurs to me that they might have some fun if they did. For the fruits of biblical scholarship are something of an embarrassment to their antagonists in the culture wars, who of course regard the entire Bible as the inerrant and infallible word of God dictated to different secretaries by the Almighty himself. Subjecting the gospels to the same kind of rigorous examination used to explicate other ancient texts is too much like an antenuptial agreement. The devotion of the true believer requires adoration, not scrutiny that tends to point toward human authors and editors rather than a transcript from the Hand of God.
Back to the basketball games.
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