Perhaps this tome should have been named “The Pseudoscientific Jesus”, or better yet, “The Science Fiction Jesus.” In science fiction novels, the author often grabs hold of a scientific theory with the tenacity of a terrier and runs with it as far as he can, making conjectures from this starting point that may have no basis in the real scientific process or fact, but will hopefully lead to an engaging storyline. In the right hands, the results can be a pleasurable form of entertainment and perhaps even art. But it is not science.
                    The Scientific Jesus is essentially a poorly written science fiction novel masquerading as something it is not. In it, author Benjamin Finch argues that Jesus Christ was a multi-dimensional alien whose message had been misconstrued by his human followers. After reading the first 10 pages, I had to stop for a moment and look on the back of the book again. There it was in the upper left hand corner: nonfiction/science/religion. I felt like calling the Better Business Bureau.
                    Perhaps as a form of explanation, it should be stated that Finch is the editor of Future magazine, a periodical best know for its features on such phenomena as Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, UFOs and ESP. The poor man's Velikovsky, Finch has written at least a half dozen books on such arcane topics. In each of these books, he poses himself as an underdog fighting the closed minded scientific establishment unwilling to admit the truth.
                    To add weight to the arguments his books, as in his Future editorials, Finch utilizes a fake academic style of writing that is unpleasantly clumsy, loaded with long, rambling sentences and strange word usage. The results often obfuscate his statements to a point where they are essentially meaningless, such as in the following passage:

                    As can be unraveled from the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Essenes were indeed human but had learned methods of inter-dimensional journeying, comprehending that this was the key to meta-light velocity voyaging and excursions to supplementary globes; they had been qualified by a prior emissary, allocated to train them for the coming of Christ, elucidating them to be au fait with the capacity to transmigrate subatomic matter forward in time and space and illuminate the peril of obliterating the outer ether world strata.

                    And on and on. Though The Scientific Jesus book jumps around maddeningly, the overall structure follows Christ's life as described in the New Testament and offers up implausible science fiction-y interpretations for Jesus' actions, especially the miracles he performed. Curing the sick, raising the dead, multiplying bread and fish, and Christ's resurrection are explained away in a manner that would have done John Campbell proud. I'm surprised Finch didn't discover the means to send a camel through a needle's eye. The book climaxes with, of course, the Apocalypse, which will be a war between good and bad aliens from other dimensions to decide the fate of our universe. If Finch's descriptions have a familiar ring to the reader, it may be because, though not credited, many of his details were foretold by such prophets as A. E. Van Vogt, C. M. Kornbluth, A. Merritt and E. E. Smith in the earlier part of this century.
                    Like certain authors from the Golden Age of Science Fiction whose names I won't mention, Finch's writing reveals his ignorance of many of the common scientific principles and concepts he attempts to utilize. Chapter four's argument revolves around Finch's confusing Relativity with relativism, leading to an almost surreal attack on Einstein's famous theory. In spite of numerous mistakes such as this, there is a smug air about Finch's language and rhetoric. I lost count of the number of times he takes time to scoff at the ignorance of those who refute him or make a bravado display of his bucking of the “blind fools of the scientific community.”
                    Another mistake Finch continually makes is to try to interpolate theories from certain recent scientific findings he doesn't firmly grasp. He takes some of the stranger, still controversial postulates surrounding subatomic particles, such as the idea that tachyons may actually move backwards in time, and tries to apply them to objects as large as human beings, even planets. Finch doesn't seem to comprehend that it is more than just a matter of scale that separates the rules of the subatomic world and the one we interact in. An infinitesimally small electron may, to the best of our abilities to perceive, seem to jump from one location to another instantaneously, but this does not prove that a person could do the same thing, yet Finch makes this and many other dubious assertion utilizing such questionable logic.
                    Finch offers neither evidence nor any idea of how to measure or prove his hypotheses, but instead just proposes even wilder theorizing in an attempt to discombobulate the reader. His method is to begin with very questionable a priori “truths” and follow zigzag pattern of deductive reasoning from there, utilizing no empirical data in the progression. This process would be more akin to philosophy than science, though I would doubt if practitioners in that field would claim Finch as their own.
                    In the end, The Scientific Jesus is an unreadable book guaranteed to offend any person with even the smallest inkling of religious conviction or common sense. That in itself is some sort of accomplishment.
                    But it is not science.