A brush with Jehovah’s Witnesses

I’m at home all week. I have a new job starting in San Antonio next Monday, but for now I’m just cooling my heels. I’ve been living in my sister’s house for a while, planning to move to an apartment in a couple of months.

Anyway, this is build up to explain why I was enjoying a nice nap today after an exciting round of healing Heroic Oculus on my level 80 priest, when the doorbell rang. I answered it and was confronted by a smiley woman in her forties or fifties, and a twenty-something middle eastern looking young woman.

They were looking for “Katherine,” and when I said there was no Katherine here the older lady said that perhaps they had the wrong house. I said “You might be talking about my sister, Keryn.” Then she asked if we were believers in God in this house, and I said “No, we’re pretty much all atheists.” She lit up and said “Well that’s great, we love talking to people of all religions and, uh… people of none. I am sure this is the house I was at before, she told me to come back later.” At that point I asked if they were Jehovah’s Witnesses, they confirmed it, and we were off.

Now, I know some people who would try to get rid of JWs as quickly as possible, but I love them. I’ve only had one other encounter with them, which I documented here. They are so full of confidence that their book holds all the answers, yet generally pretty ignorant of basic facts. So I decided to pass some time chatting.

I was introduced to the younger woman, who pretty much never spoke the whole time, as a converted Muslim. I had to explain the whole “Jewish atheist” upbringing thing, which the lady interpreted to mean “Oh, so you read the Bible but you never actually got to know the Lord.” I told her I didn’t see it as getting to know anyone, but rather as not being raised to believe that their god existed.

The woman eager to start reading from the Bible, so I patiently refrained from calling it a book of fairy tales, or a big book of multiple choice, and she proceeded to gush happily about how the Bible is full of stuff that she finds inspirational. She asked me permission to read me one, and I consented.

To be honest, I don’t even remember which part she picked. I just remember that at some point shortly after, we were talking about Adam and Eve, the first people, and she brought up how they defied God and ate the apple. So I asked whether they had the knowledge of good and evil at the time when he ordered them not to eat the fruit?

A little evasively, she said that they didn’t know good and evil, but they understood that it would be disobeying God. But I persisted, did they really? How did they know that it was wrong to disobey God if they didn’t know good and evil? What did they learn from the fruit of knowledge if they had that much understanding about not disobeying God?

She started to read what God said about how the day that Adam and Eve ate the fruit, they would die. So I said “But they didn’t die that day. So God was wrong.” And she said no, they certainly did die, in the sense that they became mortal. Then we talked about how the word “day” is sometimes a metaphor, and I brought up young earthism, so she said that she dismisses young earthism. “Yes,” I said, “but there is no indication in the Bible how long those ‘days’ of creation actually were. Science had to figure it out first, before you could take credit for her.” I also had to fill her in on background history of Bishop Ussher, since she didn’t know how widely accepted young earthism once was.

I asked how, with all the non-literal stuff in the Bible, she can tell the difference between what’s meant to be taken seriously and what’s not? The Bible has no key to interpreting itself — she pointed out that “in the beginning” from Genesis could be an indeterminate length of time and I pointed out that there is no way, without the insight of scientific examination, to actually determine that this is meant to stand for exactly 14.5 billion years.

But then she said that yes, the Bible has lots of original scientific knowledge, such as the order of creation matching up perfectly with what science says. “Oh reeeeally?” I asked, because this is one of my favorite claims to respond to. “Show me this ordering of creation please, that’s fascinating!” So she skipped back to Genesis and started running through the separation of light and darkness, and then plants, and then… “Where was the sun at this point?” I asked.

She had an answer for me: “Oh, this verse doesn’t mean that the sun was CREATED there. It just means that the sun was REVEALED at that point.” Then she started to explain to me about the vapor canopy hypothesis, where the firmament water that would eventually become the water of Noah’s flood, was blocking out the visibility of the sun.

“So,” I said, “you believe that when plants came into existence, there was no visible sun on earth.” “That’s right.” “And you believe this is in accordance with what modern science says? Seriously? How do you think plants get their energy? Ever heard of photosynthesis?” She put it to me that plants were getting energy straight from God.

So I said “I’m sorry, but you originally said that you think this information matches up with current scientific data. I know a lot of scientists, and I think it’s safe to say that only a very tiny minority would give any credibility whatever to your version of events, including the vapor canopy hypothesis.” She insisted that she had all kinds of literature she can bring back proving its scientific accuracy. I replied that I’m well aware that lots of creationists believe in that, but that doesn’t make it in agreement with scientific thinking.

“What I’d really like to see is some kind of mainstream, peer reviewed, scientific journal that seriously advances the ideas that you’re talking about.” She promised that she would do the research and come back with it later. Asked what time would be good for me, and we agreed on Saturday at 11. The whole conversation lasted about 15 minutes, I think.

Personally, I’m betting they won’t be back.

Note to self and others

If you’re going to start a religion, make sure you don’t choose a name for it that can be anagrammed. One of our Swedish viewers alerts us to this bit of prankery, in which the sign on the building of a local Jehovah’s Witnesses’ Kingdom Hall — “Rikets Sal” — has been creatively edited to read “Skitarsle,” which, we are informed, translates in English to “asshole.”

Not that we approve of such petty vandalism. But I’m still chuckling.