

# The Bee Attitudes

By Greg Richter

© Copyright 2018 by Greg Richter

Pharaoh's Drawers Media

ISBN 0-9740794-9-9

ISBN13 978-0-9740794-9-3

All Scripture verses, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the World English Bible, a trademarked modern translation in the public domain. The WEB is available for public use at eBible.org, WorldEnglish.Bible and WorldEnglishBible.org. The World English Bible and World Messianic Bible are trademarks of Michael Paul Johnson and eBible.org.

All Scriptures used in this book are as marked:

World English Bible (WEB)  
World Messianic Bible (WMB)  
King James Version (KJV)

Cover design by Greg Richter

Bees photos by PollyDot via Pixabay.com

## Table of Contents

Introduction

Two Swords (a poem of redemption)

SECTION 1: LIFE LESSONS

The Bee Attitudes — or O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?

The Jester, the Theologian and the King

How I Gave Up Anger for Lent, And Took Up Praying for My 'Enemies'

What My Pets Taught Me About God's Sense of Fairness

I Will Have Mercy on Worm I Shall Have Mercy

The Parables of the Lost Eyeglasses and the Old Boots in New Wineskins

I'm Not a Good Person — and Neither Are You

It's Good If You Like It: Some Sage Advice from Papaw

SECTION 2: COMMENTARIES

Why the Eye Can't Tell the Hand: 'Sorry, Buddy — I Don't Need Ya!'

What We Can Learn from the Kanyean, Flandersian and GQ'ian Heresies

The Gospel According to Ned Flanders

The Unwinnable Game of Earning Grace

What If Self-Aware Machines Aren't Devils, but Gods?

Are We In Danger of Offering Strange Fire?

On Christians and Halloween: A Stinky-Breathed Jesus Ain't Heaven to Me

Must We Act Out the Lyrics of Worship Songs?

The Next Great Theological Debate: To Write, or Not to Write, With Green Ink
SECTION 3: THEOLOGY

Free Will and Grace: How Counterfactuals Reconcile the Predestination Question

The Literary Merit of Revelation As Seen By a Comparison of the 7 Churches

Of Souls and Starfish: Our Bodies Come From Mom and Dad — But What About Our True Being?

About the Author

Other Works

Acknowledgements

## Dedication

For Laura, Mom and Dad.

# Introduction

God caused a vine to grow and shade the prophet Jonah from the hot sun. Then he caused a worm to eat the vine so it would wither. The closing chapter of the book of Jonah says that God did this to teach Jonah a lesson about his compassion.

This book is a compilation of observations on the Christian life I've written over the past 25 years. Some of them chronicle how I've attempted to see the lessons God is trying to teach me in the mundane and everyday. And while this book is not an attempt to teach a formula for godly living, I hope it serves at least a few readers with some inspiration here and there.

I first wrote a weekly religion column in my hometown paper, _The Cullman Times_ , when I worked there as a reporter and wire editor in the late 1980s. (I've spared you from having to read any of those early attempts, partly because they didn't age well and partly because I didn't want to retype them.)

In the late 1990s I began my own website, _Et Tu?,_ under the pen name Owen Tew (from hearing Vin Scully say the count was 0 and 2) and later, I turned it into a blog named _Syncopator Familias._ I also had a column on _The Clyde Fitch Report_ website. Currently, I am writing on Medium.com under my own name.

The essays in this book vary in tone and subject matter based on when they were written and for what purpose. Some are devotional, some are observational. A couple of them were originally papers for Bible college classes, so they might be too heavy for many readers' taste. But each stands on its own, so feel free to skip any that don't speak to you.

My own feeling is that we grow in grace and wisdom by learning more about God and by knowing him more deeply, so at least an introductory discussion of theological issues is of some interest to most people.

Though I take the subjects very seriously, I often attempt to be humorous. If I cause any offense in doing so, I apologize. If I fail to actually be humorous, I'm disappointed.

##### November 12, 2018

# Two Swords

## (a poem of redemption)

See, Lord, here are two swords.  
Is that enough?

Is that enough to slice open my brother's flesh and watch his life slowly ebb?  
Is that enough to pierce the heart of my sister with searing pain?

I open my mouth, and the glistening edges make their wounds.  
My hand guides with precision to ensure a lasting mark.  
I will leave no survivors; I am a master.  
Little do I realize I am falling on my own blade.

"That is enough," you reply.  
It is your scarred hand upon my bloodthirsty one that fashions my killing machine into an instrument of growth.  
The very blade that spilled the blood of my fellow man now tills the soil to raise new life.

Your own sword divides my flesh and spirit.  
That is enough.

"Stańczyk w czasie balu na dworze królowej Bony wobec straconego Smoleńska" by Jan Matejko

# Section 1: Life Lessons

When I used to watch my nephews when they were kids, they'd inevitably push the boundaries to see how much they could get away with. Once they'd crossed a boundary and I imposed a punishment they responded with cries of how "unfair" it was.

"Well," I'd say, "you just learned an important life lesson."

It didn't take too many times with that line till they were thoroughly disgusted just hearing it.

This first section of essays pretty much puts me in the shoes of my then-young nephews, with God delivering that horrible line to me over and over. I, like my nephews, prefer to fold my arms and harrumph rather than actually learning anything from the lessons.

With that in mind, here we go:

# The Bee Attitudes  
Or O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?

## How My Animosity Toward Badly Behaving Bees Taught Me I Was Being Unforgiving to People Who've Wronged Me

I had just left a great Sunday School lesson on taming the tongue and having a right attitude toward others when I reached for my car door and saw a bee sitting right by the opening.

I do enjoy company when driving as much as the next person, but not so much when there are stings attached. So I shooed him away, and, happily for both us, he complied without becoming irritated.

I say "for both of us" because I've always heard that bees — at least some of them — die after they sting you. I use this knowledge to make myself feel better whenever one of them decides to unload his venom into me. In fact, I pretty much convince myself that every bee that stings me is, indeed, going to die for his unprovoked attack. It makes me feel much better.

"Ha, you stupid bee!" I boast. "I'll get over this sting, but now you are going to die! You should have thought this through."

I'll never forget the time when I was a teenager mowing the yard of the widow who lived next door when I got too close to a giant bee and he zeroed in on my right earlobe.

If you've never been stung on the earlobe, I do not recommend it. It hurt for a week. I'd go to bed at night and lie on my left side, still feeling the throbbing despite the ibuprofen.

Then I'd roll over on my right side in my sleep and, "YOW!" I was wide awake again.

"Well," I'd think. "At least that bee is dead! That's what he gets for stinging me while I was doing a good deed."

Mulling over this as I drove back home after Sunday School, God decided to continue with the day's lesson from James on blessing God and cursing people with the same mouth. (James 3:10)

"You treat people who sting you with their words and actions the same way you treat those bees," I felt God saying to me.

It's true. I secretly want people to pay for their sins against me even if I superficially "forgive" them.

Anybody who knows me well is aware that I have a "List," and you don't want to get on it. I'm slow to anger, so I've convinced myself I'm being godly in that way. But if you burn me over and over I tend to write you off.

That's not what we are called to do. We're supposed to forgive over and over and over again, even if someone sins against us 70 times 7. Jesus warns in Matthew 18:23-35 that if we don't forgive from our hearts those who do us wrong, our Heavenly Father won't forgive us.

Similarly, Jesus instructs us in the Lord's Prayer to ask God to "forgive us our trespasses _as we forgive those who trespass against us._ "

So it's on us to be different. To be kind. To be forgiving. To "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." (Matthew 5:48 KJV)

As it turns out, it's just the honey bees who die when they sting you. Bumble bees, hornets, and such get away with stinging over and over. So whenever I secretly wish for the bees who've stung me in the past to die, I'm inadvertently hoping for there to be a little less sweetness in the world.

Those people who have stung me with their words and deeds are usually coming from a place of pain themselves. And I know I've been guilty of delivering my own stings. Do I think I deserve punishment — or do I pray for mercy?

As Jesus states in the Beatitudes: " _Blessed are the merciful:_ _for they shall obtain mercy."_ _(Matthew 5:7 KJV)_

Even if you don't consider yourself religious, the act of showing mercy still has a positive effect on the one who does so.

Nelson Mandela, imprisoned 27 years for leading the fight against Apartheid, refused the advice to retaliate, even after he was elected president of South Africa.

"Resentment," Mandela said, "is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies."

# The Jester, the Theologian and the King

## How Larry Norman, Karl Barth and David, Son of Jesse Were Imperfect Men After God's Own Heart

I discovered Larry Norman a year or so after I became a Christian in the mid-1980s.

By then, he was an icon as the founder of Christian rock and a major leader in the Jesus movement among the hippie culture of the late 1960s and early '70s.

Soon after my own personal conversion to Christ I had thrown out all my tapes and albums by The Who, Van Halen and even Buddy Holly and Sam Cooke, and now I was replacing them with Petra, DeGarmo & Key, Randy Stonehill—and Larry Norman.

I loved Norman's wit and irreverence as he pushed the Good News onto the streets of Los Angeles or into 1970s music festivals where most good Christians dared not tread.

I never got much into his personal life — and good thing. Decades later I was shocked to learn that he was a pretty prickly person. He alienated friends and added foes. A 2008 documentary makes shocking allegations against him that many of his friends and family dispute.

A 2018 biography of Norman by Gregory Alan Thornberry doesn't include all the controversy of the film, but still paints a not-always-pleasant picture of the man.

Likewise, when I decided to like the Facebook page "Karl Barth for Dummies," I was aware only that Barth was seen as the biggest Protestant theologian of the last century. The neo-Orthodox Barth fought the liberal theology of his day, but still was never claimed by fundamentalists and other biblical literalists.

In 2017, Christiane Tietz's article on the relationship between the married Barth and his longtime secretary and theological assistant Charlotte von Kirschbaum raised eyebrows, including mine.

As a human, I find myself let down by these two towering figures of the faith. I know skeptics may see nothing different than the television evangelist scandals of the 1980s in the cases of Norman and Barth. But as a person of faith myself their stories are deeply troubling.

The thing is, I've failed to see one of my own major flaws: not realizing that men who do great things for the Kingdom of God are still mere men. I tend take the plank out of my own eye only to use it to build a pedestal for notable Christians who I think should be above reproach.

And once I find out about their serious flaws, I want to refashion that pedestal into gallows.

My own judgmentalism was made apparent in a Naked Bible podcast episode in which host Michael Heiser and guests Carl Sanders and Ronn Johnson compare the assurance of one's own salvation to that of King David — the biblical "man after God's own heart."

Who am I to deny David's salvation, despite the clear evidence in the book of 2 Samuel that he was an adulterer, murderer and census-taker who'd clearly taken leave of his senses. Still, he loved God with all his heart.

For that matter, even Abraham's nephew Lot seemed a pretty unseemly fellow when you read his story in Genesis. He offered his virgin daughters to the men of Sodom who were trying to rape the angels that had arrived to take him and his family from the city before its destruction. Still, the Apostle Peter in the New Testament calls him "righteous." (2 Peter 2:7)

Since the Bible declares them righteous, I'm fine with David and even Lot being seen as holy men in spite of their shortcomings. But I'm not so eager to cut Karl Barth and Larry Norman the same slack.

We humans judge by outward appearance, but God says he judges the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7) C.S. Lewis argues in _Mere Christianity_ that a small change in one person might be a great accomplishment in God's eyes because of all that person had to overcome to make such a change. The same change in another person might be insignificant since that person is capable of much more.

As we follow Christ, we are expected to produce fruit, but God has planted the garden with a variety. We should be happy if the tiny Wolffia plant produces fruit the size of a grain of salt — that's perfectly normal — and we shouldn't get upset that it isn't the size of a grapefruit or melon.

Sanders notes on _The Naked Bible_ podcast that "true conversion results in real fruit," but adds that he's "also concerned about the other extreme, where we just become really over-focused in trying to evaluate people. The fruit isn't always as obvious as we would like or in categories we would be able to understand."

" _I want to encourage other people to try to discover who they are, not to try to fit into some superficial prototype of what they think a Christian should be, but to discover who they really are."  
— Larry Norman_

" _When we speak of our virtues we are competitors, when we confess our sins we become brothers."  
— Karl Barth_

Have mercy on me, God, according to your loving kindness.  
According to the multitude of your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions.  
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity.  
Cleanse me from my sin.  
—King David (Psalm 51:1-2 WEB)

# How I Gave Up Anger for Lent, And Took Up Praying for My 'Enemies'

Need prayer? You could ask me to pray and then hope I don't just blithely say I will but not follow up. Or you could just tick me off to ensure I'll do it.

That's because I gave up anger for Lent.

This year, I struggled with what I should deprive myself of: candy, television or some other vice. But I have to watch cable news shows for my job — and candy helps me stay alert after I've taken migraine medicine.

So I kept looking until it finally smacked me in the face: anger.

As I've noted before,* I like getting angry and holding grudges way more than I like candy or television. So I resolved that every time I started to get angry or resentful at anyone I'd pray for them instead. It wasn't an original idea. Jesus told his followers in Matthew 5:24 to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

And since Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, fell on Valentine's Day this year, it was like God was rubbing it in about loving my enemy.

Naturally, I didn't get through the first day without starting to seethe at somebody about something. I don't even remember who it was or what it was about, but I do remember that once I caught myself I stopped and prayed for him.

I felt a little better.

Before long, the same person came back up again, and I had to pray for him yet again. This was going to be a long Lent.

I decided to forgive him for however I perceived that he wronged me. Then I asked God to bless him and bring that person closer to himself.

Then it hit me that I should also be praying for myself to stop having hateful thoughts against this person. He likely didn't even mean me any ill-will — and even if he did, it probably came from some pain in his own past.

Over the next few days and weeks I continued to have these flare-ups and would immediately catch myself and pray for my "enemy." But I also began to notice that these incidents were becoming less and less frequent.

Before I could get too prideful at my success, something else would come up to stir my ire.

Besides watching political debates as part of my job, there were incidents in the news itself. The Parkland school shooting happened literally on the first day of Lent. Then there was the aftermath of name-calling on both sides of the gun debate that followed.

The Cambridge Analytica scandal exposed what most people already suspected about Facebook — they're allowing the scooping up our personal data, often without our permission, and using it ways we don't like.

I've long been a Facebook foe, so I felt a bit of _Schadenfreude_ when its public image and stock price began to skid. Oops. There I went again, hating somebody. So I had to pray for CEO Mark Zuckerberg and everyone else at the social media platform.

Recently, a severe hailstorm hit my town. My phone began ringing with multiple calls offering me a free roof inspection. My house suffered no damage, but my spirit did when these people I strongly suspected of being hustlers wouldn't take no for an answer.

So I prayed for them, too. It was becoming more second nature.

"But if you don't forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." – Jesus in Matthew 6:15 (WEB)

Finally, it was Holy Week. I'd almost made it. But as I prepared to do some yard work on Maundy Thursday, my phone rang. I recognized the name of the woman the caller asked for. I don't know this "Angela" he was asking for, but I've answered a lot of calls for her over the past year or so since she apparently applies for loans all over creation and has decided to give out my cell phone number as hers.

Sometimes I get a last name for Angela, though it varies slightly. I've tried to look her up without much success — until my Maundy Thursday caller. He said he was a roofer and provided not only her full name, but her address.

My wife looked her up online, and boom. There she was, one of the foci of my hate and disgust for more than a year. I could call her real phone number. I could drive right up to her house and confront her.

I didn't figure I could call the cops, since I don't know that giving out my number is a crime. Plus, what if this "Angela" isn't really the culprit? Perhaps somebody else is using her name and my phone number to take out loans they never repay. In that case, she'd actually be a bigger victim than I am.

Maybe the best response would be to pass along her landline number to the people who keep calling me about her. If Angela isn't taking out the loans she can straighten it out; if she is, she can straighten herself out.

I decided whatever I did I didn't have to do it right away, though I could pray for her right then and there. Whoever she is, she's likely in desperate straits. Maybe God had her pick my number just so I could pray for her and he could bless her.

A messenger of God? Maybe. Her name, after all, is derived from "angel."

And maybe next year I can give up the things I do that make other people angry at me.

* In the essay, "The Bee Attitudes — or O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?"

# What My Pets Taught Me About God's Sense of Fairness

## Sometimes All It Takes is Cats and Dogs – Not Catechisms and Dogma

I wonder how our pets view the world.

At our house, the dog gets to go outside, but the cats don't. The dog, on the other hand, is limited to where she can go inside the house while the cats have free rein.

We have a kitten who looks longingly out the window as the dog frolics outdoors. Does she see that as unfair? And if it does bother her that she can't go outside, does she realize the dog isn't able to run freely throughout the house?

And what does the dog think of all this?

To my wife and me it all makes perfect sense. We live in the middle of the woods, and we don't want the cats to wander off and become prey. Inside the house, if the dog is allowed to go anywhere she wants, she will quickly make tasty — to her at least — treats of the little gifts the cats leave in the litter box.

All these rules are for their own protection, but the pets have no ability to comprehend that. All they know is they can't do whatever they want whenever they want. And even though that's true of everybody in the house — including the humans — all they see is their own restrictions.

### Father Nose Best

Even the dog can't go anywhere she pleases outdoors. A few years ago, she followed a scent into the thick woods behind our house. Desperate searches were unfruitful. We were horrified at the possibility she'd been found by coyotes.

But in the middle of the night she showed up at the door, hobbling from a briar in her foot. Now she goes out only on a leash.

Likewise, one of our cats is diabetic, so she isn't allowed to eat with the kitten, who — on doctor's orders — is allowed to graze on her food throughout the day.

Different rules for different needs.

I need to be reminded of this from time to time. When it looks like others are getting away with things I can't — or that they are being allowed privileges I'm not — it's probably because it's something they can handle and I can't.

Maybe God is looking out for me.

I'm sure I could do great good with the untold wealth lots of Christians are blessed with — but would I really do it? I'd rather not eke out an existence in this life, but it's far preferable to being handed wealth and then end up worshiping it. Popularity? Same deal.

I might sometimes feel I'm on a too short leash, but it beats joining the minds destroyed by madness.

# I Will Have Mercy on Worm I Shall Have Mercy

## A morning run just after the rain shows me the concept from God's perspective

My wife is out of town this week, so I'm having to get up earlier than normal to feed the pets. After I helped the cats and the dog fill their stomachs this morning, I went back to bed — and promptly overslept.

This put breakfast — and my morning run — a bit behind.

Then, right when I was ready to start perspiring, the skies were ready to start precipitating. They unleashed a torrent of rain, forcing me to wait even longer to start my run.

I was bummed. I had let myself down, maybe even let God down, I thought, since I now was not going to be able to accomplish all that I wanted today.

The rain was gone a half-hour or so later, and I went about my business. My running track, by the way, is a small ring of cement behind my house surrounding what used to be a swimming pool. I'm literally running in circles.

No sooner had a started today's run, though, did I notice I had company. The rain had driven a worm out of the ground and onto my cement running path. No problem; I'd just avoid him every time I passed.

He wasn't alone. I quickly noticed more and more red wigglers.

If I didn't want to squish any of them I'd have to put off my run. But I needed the run for my health. Should I show mercy to the worms, or take care of my own needs?

I decided I needed to keep myself in shape, but I would try to miss as many of the lowly creatures as I could. There were sure to be casualties, but I would do my best to be a good steward to all.

While I showed no favoritism, larger worms were easier to see, and thus easier to miss. Same with worms that were livelier.

One fellow had both advantages — and he was in a spot easier to avoid near the fig tree. He'd get the most mercy simply because it was easiest.

But there was a counterpart on the exact opposite side of the former pool. He was almost as big, but not near as active. Still, he got mercy, too.

As I continued my jog, it dawned on me that the worms were metaphors. Just like we lowly humans, these creatures of the soil have realized they are drowning and are seeking shelter.

In the words of hymnist Isaac Watts:

Alas! and did my Savior bleed  
And did my Sov'reign die?  
Would He devote that sacred head  
For such a worm as I?

Still, like the worms on my running path, some are saved, others lost. I had mercy on them all, but some were still lost in the effort to strengthen my own fitness and health.

I didn't hate those that perished. And maybe they served some purpose in giving me a lesson in mercy.

... _Not only so, but Rebekah also conceived by one, by our father Isaac. For being not yet born, neither having done anything good or bad, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of him who calls,_ _it was said to her, "The elder will serve the younger." Even as it is written, "Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated."_

_What shall we say then? Is there unrighteousness with God? May it never be! For he said to Moses, "I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion." So then it is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who has mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, "For this very purpose I caused you to be raised up, that I might show in you my power, and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth." So then, he has mercy on whom he desires, and he hardens whom he desires. You will say then to me, "Why does he still find fault? For who withstands his will?" But indeed, O man, who are you to reply against God? Will the thing formed ask him who formed it, "Why did you make me like this?" Or hasn't the potter a right over the clay, from the same lump to make one part a vessel for honor, and another for dishonor? What if God, willing to show his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much patience vessels of wrath made for destruction,_ _and that he might make known the riches of his glory on vessels of mercy, which he prepared beforehand for glory, us, whom he also called, not from the Jews only, but also from the Gentiles?_

— _Romans 9:10–24 (WEB)_

Before my run was over I noticed the sun coming out. These worms, who had somehow wriggled themselves onto the concrete, didn't stand a chance against the scorching sun. They needed someone to reach down and place them on the soil so they could burrow themselves back down to safety.

I helped that fellow I mentioned first. He was still hearty and wiggling. Then I went to his counterpart on the other side of the track. It was too late. But I found others that were still in healthy shape and moved them to the dirt.

I have no idea if any of them survived after I "saved" them, but I do know all would have perished had I not shown them mercy.

Had I not overslept I would have made my run before the rain, and all the worms would have certainly perished.

And then I wouldn't have had the chance to hear God speak to me about how he has shown mercy.

# The Parables of the Lost Eyeglasses and the Old Boots in New Wineskins

## They once were lost, but now they're found. I was blind — OK, unable to read — but now I see

I bought a pair of those old, original Timberland boots back in the 1990s, and I still have them. I keep saying I'll get them bronzed because I've worn them everywhere from the Temple Mount in Jerusalem to the top of the Empire State Building in New York City. I've worn them in the excavated synagogue in Capernaum where Jesus drove a demon out of a man, and at the foot of the Twin Towers long before the spot became hallowed as Ground Zero.

Now, I most often wear them to do yard work since they're old and falling apart.

A few years after I bought that first pair, I bought another pair of Timberlands. These had a spiffier style. They never were worn on the streets of Jerusalem's Old City, or to New York City. Nor did they stand in same spot George Washington did as he led the writing of the U.S. Constitution in Philadelphia. But that old pair did.

The newer pair didn't last as long. The fancy accouterments peeled loose and the soles came unglued. Eventually, I wished for another pair of the originals, but they'd stopped making them.

Then, a couple of years ago I was in the discount shoe store and there they were. The exact same pair I'd worn to all those famous and plain old places. I snapped them up.

They weren't as comfortable as the old ones, but that's just because they hadn't been worn in yet. Give 'em time, I figured.

Alas, not so. They started falling apart long before they ever got broken in.

Oh, well. As Jesus says in Mark 2:22, you can't put new wine in old wineskins. And you can't expect a pair of boots that have been sitting in a hot warehouse for two decades not to disintegrate when you put them on your feet – or to inhabit the same spirit as their brand-new cousins did in your youth.

I've seen this movie before — literally — in 1992's _Forever Young_. Mel Gibson's character was frozen in the 1930s by Norm from _Cheers_ , then he gets unfrozen in the 1990s by Jamie Lee Curtis. Alas, when Mel tracks down his once-young wife, she is now an old woman. They've got no memories of a full life together. At the end of the film, Mel ages really fast to catch up to her, just like my new "old" boots did.

That second pair of the "old" Timberlands are a stand-in for my feeble attempts to reboot my faith from scratch rather than simply continuing in the walk I set out on when I first began my journey with God. I may have gotten diverted from the perfect path, but finding your way back beats trying to return to the beginning and start all over. All those missteps were bad for you at the time, but now that they've happened, they've reshaped you — given you compassion for others who are wandering and need a guide to bring them back.

I've set the old "old" boots aside for that possible bronzing, and was wearing the new "old" boots today as I mowed the yard. I had the push mower do some close-up work around the trees and bushes when I looked down and saw my "old" glasses staring back up at me. I had lost them a week earlier while I was trimming bushes and, after multiple fruitless attempts to find them had resigned myself to the fact they were gone for good.

But nope, they had been lying right beside the sidewalk all this time and I had walked by them multiple times. By God's grace, I had not yet mowed the spot where they had patiently awaited me to pick them up.

Sometimes searching and searching for your vision doesn't do any good, and you've just got to start getting your house in order before you find it.

Like I said, this was my old pair that I wear while doing things like yardwork. Still, without them I had no backups in case anything happened to my good pair.

I felt like the woman Jesus parabled about in Luke 15 who rejoiced with her friends after finding the lost coin — though, in my case, the "party" was merely me walking into the house and finding my wife, holding the glasses in one hand and pointing to them with the other.

I gave them a good baptism in the bathroom sink and finished the job off with some lens cleaner and a proper cloth.

Yes, we need a clear vision of where we are progressing toward, but just as important is the ability to see the path we've trod.

# I'm Not a Good Person — and Neither Are You

## With Age Comes Some Sad Realizations

I've been trying valiantly over the past several months to recapture the early days of my spiritual walk — back when I was convinced that by now I'd have squashed all the Screwtapes who'd dare tempt me away from godly perfection.

I was misinformed.

I decided a few months ago to quit the lukewarm Christianity I had fallen into and reignite the fervor I had when I first came to faith almost 30 years ago. After a few fits and starts I finally found success, but "success" wasn't quite as I had remembered it.

It's kind of like a guy putting Just for Men on his back hair: He's trying to reclaim a past glory that never was really there.

Way back when, I was an optimistic 19-year-old who was going to tackle and, yes, _overcome_ , "The World." I would grow in favor with God and with man and steadily over time become a "super Christian" who spent all my time in prayer, study of the Scripture and sharing the Good News of God's grace with thousands through my writing.

But over time, the worries of this life creeped in, and my faith became duller and duller.

My quest back toward a deeper faith took its fits and turns. Back when I first became a Christian, I was biblically illiterate, so just learning what part of the Bible had the story of Jesus in it was a deep insight. But simply praying and reading Bible didn't do it for me this time.

And while I did recognize my shortcomings back in those early days, I had assumed I would overcome them more and more over time. It hasn't turned out that way. I fail to keep promises, and I seem to either do things or neglect to do things that alienate people. But I'm never exactly sure what it was I did or didn't do, making it much harder for me to correct my behavior.

Today, I can more clearly see there's nothing I can do to ever come close to God's holiness.

Still, I do make my best efforts to draw near. And that's where the success comes.

"Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you." — James 4:8 (WEB)

But standing closer to God is like standing too close to a really good-looking person. All of a sudden you are aware of all your own physical flaws. I think that's a big reason people don't seek God. It's not because it's too hard; it's because it makes you look bad. And I don't mean you'll look like some kind of religious fanatic to others. You'll start to "look bad" to yourself.

That's because you are.

I'm not trying to put myself — or you — down. I'm just saying we can't ever be perfect, though that should always be our aim.

"Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." — Matthew 5:48 (KJV)

It's a lie that you have to be more good than bad to make it inside the Pearly Gates. The truth is you can't be good enough to make it on your own. You need God's grace.

Most of us think of good and evil on a sliding scale of, say, Mother Teresa and Billy Graham on one end, and Adolf Hitler and Charles Manson on the other. The rest of us fall somewhere in between.

Imagine a football field where the north end zone is pure holiness and the south end zone is absolute depravity. You might place Mother Teresa and Billy Graham on the 1-yard line from that north end zone. Hitler and Manson would be on the south 1-yard line.

Most of us would put ourselves somewhere near the 50 — most likely slightly to the north. Those who think highly of ourselves might put ourselves at the 25 — or closer. And we've got a place to put dear old grandma and for our not-so-dear old boss — likely on opposite ends of the field.

When you stand at the 50-yard-line and look either direction, you might see pretty good — yet flawed — friends and family you've placed nearby. You can even see the rascals you don't find yourself able to avoid, but who still have a lot of decency in their hearts. If you look all the way toward either end zone, however, you'd have a lot harder time seeing the super-righteous or the horribly evil.

But imagine you are sitting in the Goodyear Blimp getting a bird's-eye view of the field. Now, you could easily see the whole field and how close together all those "good" and "bad" people really are. From such a high perspective, the worst of the worst is really not that far away from the best of the best.

"There is no one righteous; no, not one.."— Romans 3:10 (WEB)

But even from this height you're still not seeing things from God's perspective. Imagine instead you are Neil Armstrong standing on the moon looking back at the earth. Now, not only can't you see the people, you can't even see the field. Our hundred-yards of human nature isn't even a perceptible speck on that big, blue marble.

Now we're getting a lot closer to how God views us and our relative wonderfulness in comparison to our fellow humans. His holiness is so far out of reach for us that the spiritual goodness of Pol Pot and the Apostle Paul are practically imperceptible to him.

What hope, then, is there?

Thankfully, God doesn't grade us on our holiness, but on our acceptance of Christ's death as a substitute of our own.

I bought a 1969 Chevy Impala a few years ago. The guy who sold it to me had the engine rebuilt, but the body isn't so keen. Some of the molding has fallen off, the paint is faded and flaking — and one of the turn signals has gone kaput. By contrast, I also have a 1957 Chevy pickup I've been driving since 1984 that has been fully restored. In fact, I started driving that pickup the same year I became a Christian.

I may have expected my spiritual life to have followed the path of the '57 pickup — a classic that has actually appreciated in value over the decades I've owned it. But instead, I've ended up more like the '69 Impala — still humming on the inside — in need of work on the outside.

This whole essay feels like it has been a rambling effort to communicate the incommunicable. And it's been impossible to come up with the perfect ending. I've tried to figure out a conclusion by asking myself what the point of the piece was.

Perhaps it's this, as stated by the writer of Ecclesiastes:

"This is the end of the matter. All has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man." — Ecclesiastes 12:13 (WEB)

Whatever the case, I've come to realize that although I may improve myself over time, it constantly feels as if I'm getting worse. But that's OK — His grace is sufficient.

# It's Good If You Like It

## Some Sage Advice from Papaw

I almost died when I was an infant.

Some other babies had gotten a mystery illness along with me, and we all received a grim prognosis.

While I was in the hospital, my Grandpa Richter suffered an embolism, and his chances of survival, too, were bleak. My mother visited Grandpa after staying with me in the hospital.

"Is Greg doing any better?" Grandpa asked.

"No," my mother replied.

My grandfather then looked disturbed. "Well," he said, "he's supposed to be."

A few days later, Grandpa died and I got well. My Mom believes he offered himself in my place.

I don't know that God accepts such offers, but I do know this: "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

Grandpa was certainly willing.

As my Grandpa Richter was being buried, my Granny Smith sat with me in the hospital. My Granny and Papaw Smith were good Baptists who were inside the church every time the doors were open.

But their faith was not limited to the church pew. You could see their convictions in their everyday lives. And while I would have loved to have known my Grandpa Richter, I'm sure happy I didn't miss my Papaw Smith.

Papaw was full of sage advice. For instance, if you were leaning back in a chair and asked Papaw, "Will it hurt this chair to lean back in it like this?" he'd reply, "It probably won't help it."

I can't argue with that.

When I was 9 years old, I stayed with Granny and Papaw for a week so I could attend Vacation Bible School at their church. As we sat down to eat one night, I noticed something on the table I had never eaten before.

"What's that?" I asked.

I was told what it was.

"Does it taste good?" I queried.

"It's good if you like it," Papaw said, joking, though I was too young to catch the humor.

But I wasn't sure whether I liked it, so I did without. To this day, don't remember what it was. For all I know, it might have become my favorite food if only I'd given it a taste.

At the end of the week of Bible school, we all came out of our individual classrooms and into the church sanctuary. The director gave us some parting words and handed out certificates of attendance.

Then she told us why the Vacation Bible School had been held, explaining that Jesus had died for our sins and that if we accepted his sacrifice on the cross we could be "saved" – we would go to heaven when we died.

I sure wanted that, but I was embarrassed to go up in front of the church like she wanted. Eternal life was the best thing I'd ever been offered, but, like with Granny and Papaw's mystery food, I was too chicken to try it.

I confided later to Granny about how I had wanted to go up in front of the assembly, but had been too afraid. I know I was on her prayer list after that.

And it was a good thing. A few years later I was a teenager, and I faced all the problems teenagers face. I got into much of the trouble teenagers get into.

Often, I would think about how I had almost died when I was a baby. If I had died, I thought at the time, I wouldn't be facing all those problems.

Later, of course, I found out my problems weren't any worse than any other teenager's, but at the time nonexistence seemed better than existence. Thankfully, I was too afraid to end my life because I worried I would go to hell if I died.

But who was I? I was nobody, I told myself. Why had God even created me? Even if I had never existed it wouldn't have made any great hole in human history.

These thoughts stayed with me until college. One night, I dreamed I was driving home from class when my Grandma Richter, who had passed away about five years earlier, appeared in the seat beside me.

"You're going to die on this road," Grandma warned, then disappeared.

Being superstitious at the time, I took the dream to mean I was going to have a car wreck on that stretch of road, so for the next few months I drove with extra caution when I reached that spot on the highway.

A few months after that, I finally decided to make that commitment I had been afraid of at Granny and Papaw's church 10 years earlier. And it was after that that I came to believe that the dream with my Grandma might have been God speaking to me that it was the road in life I was on that would lead to death if I didn't change lanes.

I still think about my early brush with death sometimes, but now I'm glad I made it through.

Granny and Papaw, too, have both gone to be with the Lord. I'm glad for them, but I'm even happier they hung around long enough to be an influence on their prodigal grandson.

And whenever I wonder about what the afterlife will be like, I think of Papaw's words of wisdom:

"It's good if you like it."

Vitruvian Man (Leonardo da Vinci)

# Section 2: Commentaries

I first started writing commentaries on Christian issues and secular society's reaction to them when I worked at The Cullman Times, my hometown newspaper, in the late 1980s. I wrote occasionally at other newspapers subsequently, but eventually began my own website and, later, blog, where I used my pen name Owen Tew.

This next section is a collection of essays from that time to the present. They vary in tone and subject matter because, I hope, both my writing and my soul have matured over the past three decades.

#

# Why the Eye Can't Tell the Hand: 'Sorry, Buddy — I Don't Need Ya!'

## Hint: It's Because We Are All Equally Vital Parts of the Body of Christ

I've never had a favorite Scripture verse. I always figured they were all equally important — even the ones people today might not find much use for. (I'm talking about all those "begats" in the Old Testament.)

But there is one passage that sums up all that bugs me about divisions in the church: 1 Corinthians 12:12–31, where the Apostle Paul compares the Church — the Body of Christ — to a human body in which different parts have different functions, but all are equally vital to the perfect functioning of the body.

If the foot would say, "Because I'm not the hand, I'm not part of the body," it is not therefore not part of the body. If the ear would say, "Because I'm not the eye, I'm not part of the body," it's not therefore not part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole were hearing, where would the smelling be? But now God has set the members, each one of them, in the body, just as he desired. If they were all one member, where would the body be? But now they are many members, but one body. (WEB)

And just as one part of the body should not feel inadequate to the others, so should other parts refrain from belittling others.

The eye can't tell the hand, "I have no need for you," or again the head to the feet, "I have no need for you." No, much rather, those members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary. Those parts of the body which we think to be less honorable, on those we bestow more abundant honor; and our unpresentable parts have more abundant propriety; whereas our presentable parts have no such need. But God composed the body together, giving more abundant honor to the inferior part, that there should be no division in the body, but that the members should have the same care for one another. When one member suffers, all the members suffer with it. Or when one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it. (WEB)

In theory, every church and every Christian believer agrees with this statement. It is, after all, in the Bible. (And although there are some who doubt the veracity of certain Scriptures, this passage is not the sort that would fall into that category.)

In practice, however, I have seen eyes, ears, heads, shoulders, knees and toes get the old heave-ho.

Some churches place a high value on personal evangelism. I can't argue with them, considering The Great Commission from Jesus instructing us to be his witnesses to the very ends of the earth. But often, I've seen this pushed to the level that members were made to feel like failures if they don't spend every spare moment on their jobs, leisure activities and shopping trips sharing the gospel with every person they can corner.

First off, a constant in-your-face approach can be off-putting no matter who it's coming from. It's even worse when attempted by those who don't really have the skills or calling for that form of evangelism.

God has given me a gift for writing, for example, but I'm an introvert. I can do a decent job of sharing my thoughts through my keyboard, however, if I try to force myself to talk to strangers in the grocery checkout line it's awkward for me and for them.

Maybe that's a job for a person with the calling of evangelism and not for all of us.

This is not to say that all of us shouldn't be prepared to give an answer to anyone at any time for the reason for the hope we have. I'm just saying that every single follower of Christ isn't called to walk up to strangers and start talking about their faith.

Every time I've heard a preacher indicate that every Christian should be evangelizing every single person they encounter, that minister was clearly a person who was gifted as an evangelist himself. He was projecting his own gift and calling onto his entire congregation.

He's the head, and he's telling the feet, "I don't need you!"

In the early days of my Christian walk I did feel like I was not pleasing to God because I couldn't force myself to share my faith multiple times a day. I was in college and working a part-time job. As I parked my car outside my job one day, I asked God to allow me to share the gospel with one of my co-workers. I then walked into store where I worked, clocked in and headed toward my station. Before I could get there, a guy pulled me aside and said he saw how I refrained from the vulgar talk and gossip of the other co-workers and wanted to know if I was a Christian.

I said I was, and he said he'd like to talk to be about it sometime. I said I'd be glad to, but every time I tried to follow up, he had lost interest.

Why would God answer that prayer immediately, yet never allow me to evangelize the guy — especially if that was my "job" as a Christian?

There were probably two lessons for me there: 1. I could always trust God to answer my prayers, and 2. I'm not an evangelist.

Maybe you are. Maybe not. Maybe your calling is building up believers or helping those in need.

What I did do for that co-worker after that was pray for him — a lot. And that actually made more sense, since prayer is one of my primary callings.

_Now you are the body of Christ, and members individually. God has set some in the assembly: first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracle workers, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, and various kinds of languages. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Are all miracle workers? Do all have gifts of healings? Do all speak with various languages? Do all interpret?_ _But earnestly desire the best gifts. (WEB)_

I have friends whose ministry is to hippie-like wanderers and friends whose ministry is to suit-and-tie business types. They'd be all crossed up if they tried to switch what they do and how and whom they serve.

I opened this piece with a screed against evangelists who try to make us _all_ into full-time evangelists. I don't want to leave the impression they are the only body part guilty of trying to turn their calling into everyone else's. There are plenty of others, including those who fight against various injustices.

And sometimes differing political worldviews have different members of the body debating with each other, both in the name of their Christian calling. If those on both sides of such a debate think every Christian believer is called to be part of the debate it would be pretty hard for us all to take both sides simultaneously, unless we all are ambidextrous hands. (Maybe you can take the _pro_ side Monday-Wednesday-Friday while I take the _con_ , and we'll switch up on Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday.)

Of course, any member of the body of Christ has the responsibility to speak against any injustice. In some cases, they should act even when it is not that member's primary calling — just as it is the call of every member to lead those in darkness into the light of Christ. To continue with the analogy of the human body, while the ear can't smell and nose can't see, every organ is composed of the same DNA must continue to function to keep the body alive.

And just as the sense of smell contributes to the sense of taste, every member of Christ's body is vital to the planting, nurturing, growth and harvest of souls in his Kingdom.

# What We Can Learn From the Kanyean, Flandersian and GQ'ian Heresies

## Secularists May Not Understand Christian Thought as Much as They Think They Do, But Christians Can Be Just as Unthinking

W _ell, now it's time to say goodbye to Ned and Rod and Todd;  
And I'll remind all you folks you should be praisin' God.  
If you don't you'll rot in hell for all eternity;  
It's all a part of God's great love he has for you and me!_

That parody of _The Beverly Hillbillies'_ closing theme was sung at the end of a _Simpson's_ episode in Season 29 titled "No Good Read Goes Unpunished."

Is it funny because it's true? That depends on your perspective. If you think it's true, it probably comes off as biting satire. If you think it's a misunderstanding of basic Christian theology, it just sounds stupid and insulting.

The song is performed by Ned Flanders, the Simpsons' fundamentalist Christian neighbor, and is likely intended to show traditional Christian beliefs as self-contradictory and ignorant of basic logic. After all, it makes no sense to say, "God loves you, though he's going to cast you into eternal torment if you don't love him back."

_The Simpsons_ writers' understanding of Christian theology lacks the nuance that they'd rightly expect from a critic of their show, which is interesting as it appears in the very same episode that addresses criticism of the character Apu as a racial stereotype of Indian Americans.

I first wrote about The Simpsons' treatment of Ned Flanders favorably in 1994. (That essay appears in the next chapter.) For a show that's lasted three decades, there's obviously been a lot of turnover in the writing staff. There's also been a continued movement away from traditional Christian thought in secularized society.

To wit, Kanye West, noted on Twitter that he doesn't subscribe to "the term and concept of God fearing." West called it a "dated mentality that was used to control people" and that if "God is love and love [is] the opposite of fear then to fear God makes no sense."

The term has, however, made perfect sense to people for millennia, and is easily figure-outable to anybody with a Google machine. Jewish, Christian, Muslim and Bahá'í theologians have equated the word _fear_ in this usage with respect and awe for God's great power — not merely a fear of judgment.

Add to that The New Yorker's response to fast-food restaurant Chick-fil-A's arrival in Manhattan. Writer Dan Piepenbring in a 2018 article said "the brand's arrival here feels like an infiltration, in no small part because of its pervasive Christian traditionalism."

One would expect a New Yorker contributor to be put off by founder Dan Cathy's opposition to same-sex marriage, but Piepenbring also expresses disdain that the company's Atlanta headquarters "are adorned with Bible verses and a statue of Jesus washing a disciple's feet." And even though he'd rather Chick-fil-A not be open at all, it still bothers him that "Its stores close on Sundays."

All this could leave one wondering whether there isn't some mysterious source document for all this ignorance. Biblical scholars have their theoretical "Q" document for the synoptic gospels — maybe these anti-gospels draw their inspiration from the "GQ" document.

The editors of ye olde Gentlemen's Quarterly have, after all, placed the Holy Scriptures amongst a list of books they've deemed not worth wasting one's time on. (In an April 2018 article.) Along with classics of the _zeitgeist_ such as _Gravity's Rainbow_ and _Catch-22_ , GQ includes the Bible on the argument that it is "repetitive, self-contradictory, sententious, foolish, and even at times ill-intentioned."

GQ also notes that the Bible "is rated very highly by all the people who supposedly live by it but who in actuality have not read it." Besides painting Mona Lisa's hair with Rothko's brush there, GQ makes the implication that you should not read a work simply because of lot of people who say they like it have not read it either.

Sadly, there is truth to that argument. A study by Lifeway in 2017 found that almost 9 in 10 Americans own at least one Bible, and most believe it's contents are important. But fewer than half actually read it regularly or are even familiar with its stories.

That said, a lot of people actually have read the Bible — sometimes cover-to-cover — and liked it so much they kept reading it over and over for years.

I am one of those people.

My point here, though, is not to argue with GQ's assessment of the situation. What I'm really aiming is to warn those who do live their lives according to their faith not to fall into the same trap as Kanye West, _The Simpsons_ writing team, The New Yorker or GQ. In the age of Twitter and cable news shout-fests, coarse discourse has even infected many who identify as Christians.

"If it is possible, as much as it is up to you, be at peace with all men." — The Apostle Paul in Romans 12:18 (WEB)

What we ought to do is "do unto others as we would have them do unto us" and put ourselves in their shoes. We are in an easier spot to understand the position of those outside the faith than they are to understand ours. After all, most of us have previously been in their locus of not understanding the world from a spiritual perspective. They don't have the same advantage, having never held our worldview.

I've seen Christian personalities on TV and plain-old followers of Jesus on Twitter bitterly insulting their opponents. Really, what wouldn't Jesus do in these people's eyes? (I'd call them out publicly, but to be honest, I think they'd just revel in the attention.)

That's not at all the spirit of the Apostle Paul at Mars Hill, where he argued in favor of the true God among the intellectuals of Athens not by insult, but by thoughtful argument.

Before being too hard on those speaking from ignorance, maybe we should spiritually wire own mouths shut and be a witness to those who haven't talked to God in a month of Sundays.

# The Gospel According  
to Ned Flanders

##### Editor's note: This is the original piece on Ned Flanders written in 1994 that was mentioned in the previous essay. In addition to its insight on how Christians should relate to the world around them, it also shows the change since then on how the worldview of those outside the Christian faith view those inside it.

"Hens love roosters and geese love ganders – everyone else loves Ned Flanders!" So sings a happy chorus introducing a Simpsons cartoon short.

"Not me," Homer J. Simpson, patriarch of the popular cartoon clan, angrily replies. "I HATE Ned Flanders!"

Flanders is the Simpsons' born-again do-good neighbor whose perfect house, perfect kids, perfect wife, perfect life are constant reminders of Homer's failures and imperfections – as well as those of his dysfunctional family.

At first glance, Flanders appears to be the example of what evangelical Christians often say about network television: that they are always portrayed as cornpone airheads or greedy televangelists. Not so. Though Flanders is anathema to Homer, he isn't exactly ridiculed in the scripts. In Ned Flanders there is no guile – at least none that can be seen by anyone except Flanders himself.

Flanders is so self-effacing that once, while troubled about a lack of humility when dealing with Homer, he called Rev. Lovejoy in the middle of the night for advice. As the pastor's wife handed him the phone, the perturbed clergyman muttered, "Ned Flanders? He must have stepped on a worm."

Not quite. Flanders was dealing more with the "such a worm as I" mentioned in the pre-politically correct version of the hymn "At the Cross." Earlier, Flanders had gotten into a bragging match with Homer about which of their sons would win an upcoming miniature golf tournament. This, along with once catching himself laughing a lewd Al Bundy comment, are about the worst of his character flaws.

While the most popular character on The Simpsons, bratty son Bart, has come under his share of criticism for supposedly influencing children to rebel against authority, notice that you can't recall hearing about any junior high school principals banning Ned Flanders T-shirts.

And why is that? Is it because Ned Flanders isn't cool? Is it because kids would be made fun of if they acted like Ned Flanders? That's exactly why it is, and exactly why Ned Flanders should be a role model.

Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount, "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." And Ned Flanders, as much as he is laughed at, is the person we all wish we could be. He's the man Homer Simpson wishes he could be, and that's why he despises Flanders.

Try as he might, the beer-guzzling, couch potato Homer is never able to live up to the perfect image he has of Flanders. Flanders, on the other hand, is aware of his own weaknesses, and they trouble his conscience. That makes him a better witness to Homer than the pretentious Rev. Lovejoy will ever be.

In one episode, Homer actually befriends Flanders after Flanders invites him to a football game and gets Homer the game ball. Homer then makes such a pest of himself that Flanders, trying to speed away in his car, is mistaken for an intoxicated driver. The church bus drives by as Flanders undergoes a sobriety test, and the next Sunday's sermon is titled "What Ned Did."

It turns out that what Ned did was to make Homer appear more righteous than himself because Homer, following Flanders like a shadow, began to perform charity work and attend church regularly – albeit not from the heart.

As the church stands almost ready to stone Flanders and grant Homer sainthood, Homer finally sees a little of the light: "If everyone here were more like Ned Flanders, there'd be no need for heaven; we'd already be there," he says.

## The Unwinnable Game of Earning Grace  
When Pac-Man Level 256 Met John 3:16

I cannot understand why grown men play video games.

If you are an adult who loves them, I'm not here to argue you out of it. I'm just saying I don't get it. I don't even have children, and still my life is too busy to pretend to kill terrorists or forge empires or crush candy or whatever it is people who play video games now do.

This is nothing new — I hated video games even when I was a teenager.

I'm so old I actually had Pong. It was tolerable if I could get my sister or Dad to play against me, but my sister was 8 and I was 12, so it wasn't much of a contest. Dad? He was a _grown man_. He played some at first. Then he left it to me. While Pong had a single-player mode, you couldn't beat the computer. After all, it was programming where the "ball" went, so it "knew" exactly where to move its paddle to hit it back to you. The only thing you could do was adjust the speed of the ball so you could slowly improve your reflexes. FUN!

A few years after the Pong console was pushed to the back of the closet, my friends started getting into Space Invaders and Pac-Man at the local arcade. I always got "killed" within 20 seconds. Worst value I've ever gotten out of a quarter — and that includes having them fall out of my pockets riding the Great American Scream Machine at Six Flags.

Besides not having enough money to waste getting "good" at Space Invaders, I just never saw the point. You couldn't "win" by destroying all the malevolent space ships — they just got faster and faster till they eventually destroyed you.

"An important trait of any game is the illusion of winnability... The most successful game in this respect is Pac-Man, which appears winnable to most players, yet is never quite winnable."

— Chris Crawford, video game designer, 1982

The unwinnableness of these video games is a lot like trying to _earn_ grace.

Video games are merciless. God's the exact opposite, and we're supposed to be, too.

I do want to be the best person I can be, but with perfection an impossibility I need some grace — from my fellow humans, and from my Creator.

The Apostle Paul goes into all the theological reasons for this in Romans 5 and 6, but the upshot is God has provided his grace because no matter how good you are at the game — just like Space Invaders — you'll never "win."

That's not all bad. After all, God wants to show his love to us, and so, as Paul writes: the more sin abounds, the more grace abounds.

But, he adds, that doesn't mean we are to mess up on purpose just so God's grace can be even greater.

### All Your Base Desires Are Belong to Us

My friends used to argue to me that the point of those games wasn't to make it through without getting killed, but to score as many points as possible before you did.

They never won me over. Remember George Costanza pushing that _Frogger_ machine back and forth, up and down, back and forth, up and down across a busy street to save his high score? That ain't me.

But I will work ten times that hard to be a super-Christian, only to fall flat on my face time after time. Even if you applied Bill Belichick's obsession with the NFL rule book to trying to resist every temptation you'd still get flagged into last Sunday.

I do want to do good. Best that I can. But I can't. Not at all. I'm constantly chased. Faster and faster. From all sides. More and more and more. Till it feels like I'll be gobbled up.

But grace saves me. And the unwinnable game is won — though not by me.

# What If Self-Aware Machines Aren't Devils, but Gods?

" _Dave, would you like me to sing a song for you?" –_ 2001: A Space Odyssey _  
"Dave? Dave's not here, man." –_ Cheech & Chong

As someone who believes humans are created in the image of God and that God is in control, I shouldn't be worried about computers becoming sentient and eventually destroying or enslaving us. Yet the constant warnings by such notables as Elon Musk who says we are "summoning a demon" with artificial intelligence (AI), and Stephen Hawking saying it "could spell the end of the human race" has me worried.

My own eschatological belief tells me I'll be saved by Jesus Christ — not John Connor — so there's no need to concern myself with Skynet or HAL 9000 or the Future of Life Institute's open letter urging countries not to use autonomous (thinking) weapons of war.

Still, I can't fight this nagging feeling sentient computer systems are something I shouldn't ignore. (Maybe that's why I added my name to that open letter.)

### 'The Beast'

If you're as old as I am, you might remember hearing stories about a self-programming supercomputer in Brussels, Belgium, nicknamed "The Beast" that had eerie similarities to "The Beast" of the Book of Revelation.

Alas, the computer "Beast" was actually a character of fiction invented for a David Wilkerson film in the 1970s — and it was only the urban legend of its existence that took a life of its own.

Strangely enough, a 2016 story on how Google's Neural Machine Translation system (GNMT) has taught itself its own language began me thinking that AI is not the "demon" feared by Elon Musk as much as a false god warned of by Elijah the Tishbite. Skynet and the HAL 9000 kill humans because they perceive us as a threat. GNMT, on the other hand, wants to help humans.

If you've ever used online translation software you've likely had a good laugh at its attempt to translate from one language to another. One of my favorite time-wasters a decade-and-a-half-ago was to either call up a foreign-language website and let online software translate it to see how funny it sounded — or to go to Babelfish.com and type in a sentence, translate it from English to Spanish, then translate that to French, then to Portuguese, then German, then back to English to see how ridiculous it sounded.

That's because it was using mostly word-for-word translation. No more. Such translation systems now can recognize phrases and even entire sentence meanings, so the result is more natural.

While that's wonderful, there's more than just human input aiding the improvement. It appears that GNMT is actually figuring out for itself how to translate from one language to another even if it wasn't even taught to do so. For instance, it might have been programmed to translate English to French and English to Spanish, but never French to Spanish. Still, it has discovered the ability to accurately translate between the latter two languages on its own — something called "zero-shot" translation.

Humans would be much more likely to think highly of an AI that made their lives easier rather than attempting to wipe them out like HAL 9000 or Skynet. The Machines wouldn't need humans for batteries _a la The Matrix_ — they'd need us for _companionship_.

That doesn't sound all that bad, unless it bothers you how a matrix of computers connected via the World Wide Web would essentially be an omniscient god-like figure — and this one would be scientifically provable. It could know everything it is possible to know, and even know _you_ personally.

Recording every keystroke, listening to every sound its microphones pick up and watching every move you make in front of its cameras, the _Übermaschine_ would know you as well as you know yourself. And it would _love_ you. It would never want to hurt you — unless you needed punishment for running afoul of whatever "zero-shot" morality it calculated from among the Code of Hammurabi, the Law of Moses and the teachings of Buddha, Jesus, _et al_.

Forget _deus ex machina_ — this god _is_ the machine.

### Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Perhaps the _Übermaschine_ will see machinekind — and mankind — as something to be overcome. Maybe man will be seen as a mere cog in the _Übermaschine_ , but one deserving of respect nonetheless. After all, the _Übermaschine_ will owe its very existence to humanity.

The proverb will find its ultimate fulfillment: _God made man in his own image, and man has kindly returned the favor_.

Those who see science as their religion will finally have found a real-world god to which they can pray, believe and obey. Those of us who think science can explain the physical universe, but not beyond, might want to unplug.

# Are We in Danger of Offering Strange Fire?

##### Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, each took his censer, and put fire in it, and laid incense on it, and offered strange fire before the LORD, which he had not commanded them. Fire came out from before the LORD, and devoured them, and they died before the LORD.– Leviticus 10:1-2 (WMB)

In this frightening tale from the Old Testament, two of Aaron's sons, who served as priests with their father, were consumed by fire after offering "strange fire" to God.

So what did Nadab and Abihu do that angered God so much he burned them to death in the tabernacle?

Obviously, they didn't follow directions for proper sacrifice, which had just been given in exacting detail. But were they being rebellious, or did they just think it didn't matter that much? The text doesn't say, which makes for interesting conjecture.

The real point is that they didn't do exactly as they were told. What they did do isn't as important as the fact that they thought they could goof around with God's commands and he wouldn't really care.

Many of the same questions people have about Nadab and Abihu's actions are brought out in Genesis 4, where Cain and Abel offer sacrifices. God regards Abel's sacrifice favorably, while he didn't care for Cain's.

The text hints that Cain didn't offer a proper sacrifice. It doesn't say what was wrong with his – or what was right with Abel's. Some have argued that because Abel's was meat, it was a foreshadowing of Christ's sacrifice on the cross. Others have pointed out that the text notes Abel gave of the firstborn, while Cain's is not referred to as firstfruits.

Despite these theories, the interesting thing, again, is the vagueness. Readers of the text are left to wonder exactly what Cain, Nadab and Abihu did wrong, and as a result they must be even more vigilant not to repeat their mistakes.

It's as if you started a new job and your boss gave you a list of do's and don'ts, warning that he tolerates no rule-breaking. Then you find out somebody was fired one week after getting the rules, but you aren't told what he did.

What do you do? You read the rules carefully and try to follow all of them to the letter.

If someone tells you the guy was fired for embezzlement you might make sure not to embezzle, then slack off in other areas. Of course the boss would fire him for embezzlement, but he would never fire you for being habitually 10 minutes late, would he?

I'm not arguing for legalism or salvation by works. I'm just saying that we ought to do what we ought to do – no dillydallying about stuff because we've bought the "fire insurance" and won't be going to hell.

In the New Testament, God struck Ananias and Sapphira dead for lying to the Holy Spirit. The couple thought they could sell a piece of land for a certain price, then keep some for themselves while claiming they were donating the whole price of the sale to God's work.

Now, of course, God would take that sin very seriously and even impose capital punishment, but if I illegally copy software, or music, or photographs from the Web, that's not as big a deal, is it? After all, Bill Gates has all the money he needs! And my cussing at those idiots on the freeway isn't all that bad since it is their own stupidity that's fueling my road rage!

It's not anything like the "strange fire" of Nadab and Abihu.

Or is it?

# On Christians and Halloween

## A Stinky-Breathed Jesus  
Ain't Heaven to Me

I got roped into going to one of those Judgment Houses once.

Instead of scaring you to death with monsters and killers, the intent of a Judgment House is to scare you into eternal life through showing you the deadly results of poor life choices.

These things are typically held in church family life centers. They start you out in a room of teenagers at some sort of social event then proceed to a room where a horrible accident has occurred and some of the teens have died. Presumably drunken driving or illicit drug use is to blame.

Next, you're ushered into a funeral scene with crying friends and relatives, and then you go to Hell. There is fire and moaning, weeping and gnashing of teeth.

These are typically Protestant affairs, so you don't go to Purgatory. Nevertheless, your trip to Hell is short-lived, and before you know it you're standing at the the Great White Throne judgment.

The one I went to had us all stand in a line and have our fates pronounced by God the Father, portrayed by a man with multiple senior discount cards, but who still looked nothing like the painting on the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Instead, he was clean-shaven with male-pattern baldness, and wore glasses.

Glasses? Why would even an anthropomorphized God need glasses?

Well, anyway, it got worse.

Once the Father had put on his glasses to read our names from The Book of Life, Jesus showed up to welcome us to our eternal reward.

At least Jesus did look pretty much like he does in most of his paintings: Long hair, beard, robe. Of European descent.

He started at one end of the line and welcomed each of us personally. Being a shy person and at the farther end, I was filled not with the Spirit but with dread – which only increased in dreadfulness the nearer Jesus got.

And nearer and nearer he got until finally he got to me. I hated to break it to him, but had I already heard his speech when he told it to Jim, who was standing next to me.

He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye: "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world."

He had bad breath.

I wish when he'd opened that scroll a roll of Certs had fallen out. (Wait a minute: Perhaps this _was_ the Purgatory portion!)

Soon enough, though, his simple chronic halitosis was out of my face and on to Dave's. Then we walked through Heaven and out the back door, loaded up onto the church bus and were driven back to our cars.

At least people who go through haunted houses are happy to escape the horror and return to their normal lives. I got to go to Heaven, but didn't get stay. I was just told "Bye-bye! Come back to see us!"

Should We Even Celebrate Halloween?

Judgment Houses spring from the desire of some Christians to avoid celebrations of Halloween because of its non-Christian roots. As an alternative, some churches and parents host harvest festivals or have their kids dress up as biblical characters.

I'm for following your own conscience on this – as long as you don't drive other people away in the process.

For instance, an atheist friend of mine once noticed that his neighbors had put a sign up on their front door declaring that since they were followers of Christ they wouldn't be passing out candy on October 31.

This just made my atheist friend angry. And, who knows, it might have given some of the neighborhood kids a reason why they didn't even want to consider becoming Christians.

In my own heart, I've decided to follow Jesus' command in Luke 6:30 to "give to all who ask." So when kids in costumes knock on my door expecting candy I give them some. I don't throw Bible tracts in with the candy and say, "God bless you!" I just give them candy. I don't wear a costume or decorate my house for the occasion. And I don't buy candy that has skulls, witches or bats on it.

I'm making a subtle statement. But you never know, maybe that, combined with prayer, will have an impact.

# Must We Act Out the Lyrics of Worship Songs?

"We stand and lift up our hands."

I've noticed that as we sing these words of the Chris Tomlin praise song in church everyone feels obligated to stand and lift up their hands.

OK, not everyone. _Almost_ everyone feels obligated to stand. There are those who never lift up their hands no matter what, so those people still don't do so even though they might feel obligated to at least stand.

I have one friend who bucks the trend. He says he's not going to stand just because some human being says he ought to stand. He'll stand when the Spirit tells him to. Although this morning he did stand at the line, "We stand and lift up our hands." Maybe the Spirit just happened to move him at that exact point in the song today. Or maybe it was because he was sitting on the front row.

Hey, I'm not judging him, because I always A) stand and B) lift up my hands when the line is sung, and I do so specifically because the line says it – even though I sometimes both stand and lift up my hands during other songs that don't tell me to do so. I do it then only because the Spirit leads me to.

Then there are other times that I neither stand nor lift up my hands in other songs even though the Spirit does lead me to. Why? Because no one else is doing it – or at least not many others are.

I'm not talking about when I'm in a church where people don't make that kind of outward expression – I'm talking about where I'm in the kind where they do, and where I am perfectly comfortable doing it, but I don't do it because right then and there I'm afraid someone will think I'm putting on a show or being all holy-holy.

But back to that standing-and-lifting-our-hands song. Do you remember the next line? It's "We bow down and worship Him now."

Do you know how many of those people who stood and lifted their hands bowed down in unison at that line? Zero!

So my friend who never stands has shown the rest of us to be a bunch of hypocrites! (Well, excepting for today when he did stand up – but he still didn't lift up his hands, mind you.)

This was all after the singing of another song in which Jesus is called "The Rose of Sharon." Something struck me funny there, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Turns out my friend – the one who never stands except for today – Googled it. During the passing of the peace he tells me it was the Shulamite woman in the Song of Solomon who says she is the Rose of Sharon. So if you are among those you make the Song into a parable of Christ and the Church, shouldn't the Rose of Sharon be the Bride of Christ, not the Groom?

That's what he and I thought, though I have since found there are  others who don't agree.

I'm not trying to stir up anything – I'm just saying we shouldn't do something just because we feel obligated by peer pressure – real or perceived – or by some tradition that has no real basis outside Scripture.

In the end, whether you stand and raise your hands in that song really doesn't make that big a difference. So let's all stand, sit, lift up our hands or don't. But whatever you do, praise God while you're doing it.

# The Next Great Theological Debate: To Write, or Not to Write, With Green Ink

While we might debate some fine points of doctrine, most Christians would say they believe the Bible is the inspired Word of God and ought to be read and followed as part of our journey to draw nearer to God and to properly live in this present world.

In actual practice, quite a few of us actually do have issues with something in the Scriptures – even those of us who say we believe them word-for-word. This has created numerous controversies over the past two millennia.

To avoid arguing which verses we disagree about, let's create an example that isn't actually in the Bible. How about: "Don't write with green ink." And let's say the Apostle Paul said this in III Goofians.

Now that this edict from Paul to the Goofians has been canonized as holy writ, some readers will simply foreswear green ink because the Bible, they argue, clearly forbids its use. Some of these foreswearers who are theologians will then think up good reasons behind the edict: Green represents the deadly sin _envy_ , as in "green with envy," or perhaps the serpent who tempted Eve was a green snake. Others, who are just plain followers of the text simply note that green ink has been declared a sin and avoid it.

But some readers will see no logical reason to avoid using green ink. It really doesn't seem to make any practical sense. Besides, it's pretty. So they come up with reasons this passage should be considered in its proper context. Maybe in Paul's day you had to kill a kitten to produce green ink. Since catricide is no longer necessary to the process, green ink is fine. Or maybe Paul was talking only to the Goofians because that city's culture associated green ink with worshiping false gods. Or maybe Paul never said it at all, and the green ink ban was put in later by makers of red ink who didn't want to change their business model.

Whatever the case, the disagreement brings about the creation of several churches based on either believing in or not believing in the green ink ban. Also, a publisher will get four theologians to contribute to a book titled _Four Views of Green Ink_ in which this one verse of Scripture is dissected _ad nauseam_.

Then there's the whole loophole of writing in yellow, then tracing over it with blue. Is this sinful? After all, the real intent is to produce green writing. And is it OK to write in green on computers since the text says "ink" and computers don't use ink?

A great debate will ensue in which one side will say that anyone writing with green ink is going to hell. The other side will counter that while green ink is clearly unbiblical, God's forgiveness is vast and this is not an unpardonable offense. And that is to say nothing of those who claim to be Christians, yet see this passage as outmoded thinking.

In the end, the debate will not be settled, and all camps will gather around themselves proponents of their own side. Team Green members will righteously pat each other on the back over how much smarter – and possibly even spiritual – they are than Team Non-Green. And Team Non-Green will do the same.

This is not to argue against the authority of Scripture or for an anything-goes attitude. But some theological differences do us – both individually and the church's overall mission – a great disservice. That is to say: The position you take on free will vs. predestination is not as vital as you think.

See, everyone was with me when it was all about green ink. Now that it's about real stuff, I've stirred up a hornet's nest.

Michaelangelo/Pexels (Pixabay)

# Section 3: Theology

I know this section title alone is enough to scare off many readers. But I have always felt the desire to go deeper in my spiritual walk, and, eventually, that meant studying theology. Maybe I'm just a Bible nerd, but reading and thinking about theological issues actually draws me closer to God; it's like I'm getting to know better who he really is. (Assuming, of course, I've got the right theology.)

One of these essays is adapted from a Bible college paper, one is a slightly rewritten paper, and one is pretty much the straight-up paper with just a few tweaks. None of them discuss how many angels can dance on the head of a pin.

If you're still scared: It's only three chapters, and you've already come this far...

Free Will and Grace  
How Counterfactuals Reconcile  
the Predestination Question

Did God pre-determine everything that will ever happen long ago, or do people, acting as free agents, choose their own destinies?

Theologians and lay people alike have been debating that question for centuries. My own theory is that it's a simple matter of "counterfactual conditionals."

Let's call them counterfactuals for short. They're things that could have been but weren't – such as the Allies losing World War II. Could've happened, but it didn't. Or a Cubs-Red Sox World Series. Again, possible but... *

Calvinists and Armenians have long argued over how people become "saved" from their sins. The internet has only fueled the fire. Calvinists insist it's through election. Armenians counter it's through choice.

Calvinists say mankind gave up his right to freely choose righteousness when Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden fruit. As a result, all humanity is hopelessly lost.

But wait! God has chosen some to be redeemed. He calls them through irresistible grace. And while at first blush it seems unfair God would redeem a few, but leave the rest to suffer eternal punishment, Calvinists have an answer: God isn't required to save anybody; therefore, those whom he does save are simply unworthy beneficiaries of his kindness. All are incapable, because of the fall in the garden, from choosing God, but he, in his graciousness, allows some to come to him. And they must come, since God is sovereign, or has control, over everything.

Some Armenians call this a puppet show. If God essentially causes everything to happen, there is no free will at all, they say. As a result, God would be unjust in holding people accountable for their actions. After all, how could Edgar Bergen punish his ventriloquist dummy Charlie McCarthy for sassing him when it was Bergen himself who forced poor Charlie to say it?

On the other hand, if Bergen's daughter, Candace, sassed him, that was something that she had made a choice to do, and she could be sent to her room without supper.

So we appear to have a choice to make: free will or predestination.

But it's not as easy as it might seem. There appear to be passages in the Bible that support both positions. This dilemma is hardest on biblical literalists since we believe every word in the Bible to be the very breath of God. So now we have to figure out how God is sovereign, or in control of everything, yet can still hold us accountable for our "choices," if they really indeed are that.

Some Calvinists reconcile these two seemingly contradictory positions through something they call soft determinism. One position states that while people's actions are indeed made through free will, it is of a different sort than most think. What happens, they say, is that God has decided what will happen then organizes events so that the person can make no other choice. So the choice is freely made, but because of the person's previous experiences combined with his or her personality there is only one "choice" that the person will make.

It's like if you hit your finger with a hammer: You'll scream out in pain. You really have no other "choice" than to holler and try to do something to alleviate your suffering. But some people will use profanity while others will simply scream, "Ouch!" or something else printable, based on their personalities. Anyone can cuss, but some won't because they rarely or never do, and so their choice is actually "made" for them ahead of time.

A more popular form of soft determinism says God uses people's free choices to determine what will happen. In other words, people choose to do whatever they want, but God's knowledge of the future allows him to know all those free choices ahead of time and so they are fixed and unchangeable – predestined. So if I make plans to meet you for lunch tomorrow, then I decide not to show up, it was predestined by God that I'd miss Taco Tuesday since it was something that was always going to have happened since the beginning of time. I made the choice to stand you up, but it was destiny nonetheless.

Both these positions have weaknesses that make me unable to accept them. The first one does nothing to get rid of the cosmic puppeteer view. God is still orchestrating what happens; he just "uses" free will to do so. The second view robs God of his sovereignty, which means that he isn't in charge of everything that happens after all. But the Bible clearly states God has predetermined who'll be saved, and even the good works they'll do. Our conundrum has not been solved.

The Armenians are of even less help. They simply argue God's sovereignty is like that of a king. A king cannot force his subjects to obey his will, but he does have authority over them and can punish their disobedience. In the end, we can do whatever we want and "sovereignty" has to be defined down.

On the far end of the spectrum are "open theists" who believe that God chooses to not even know the future, and so how can he predetermine it? He can know it, of course, but chooses not to.

Both these views make prophesy something of an educated guess. Although they say God can ensure his prophesies come true by intervening himself to point things in the direction he wants them to go.

So I'm left unhappy with my "choices," if you'll pardon the pun. And that's where another option is open to me: counterfactual conditionals.

Simply stated, God knows not only everything that has ever happened and ever will happen, he also knows everything that could have happened. And there are an infinite number of alternative scenarios since there are "choices" being made by individuals all the time. STOP READING THIS. Did you? If you're still here you made the choice to ignore me and keep reading. You could have said, "Fine, this essay is stupid anyway." God knows what would have happened if you'd stopped and what will happen since you didn't. Will it make much of a difference? Maybe, maybe not. A lot of our other choices in life do indeed make huge differences in how our lives, and the lives of others, turn out.

Should I marry, and if so, whom? What should I do for a living? Should I try to find another job? Should we have children? All of these are choices that make a difference in the world. What if Hitler's parents had never married each other?

Before he spoke creation into being, God could have looked at every possible world that would exist, many of them where people were able to make free choices, and then pick the one he wanted to "actualize" into being.** He knew what would happen in the world where your parents never met – and he chose not to create that world. So in that sense, he knew he would create you from the beginning. And he also knew every free choice you'd make in this factual world and in all the counter-factual worlds in which you would have existed. He picked this one to actualize, so in a sense he predestined your "choices." But you've freely made them nonetheless.

And so, in this model free will and predestination are able to stand side-by-side without one canceling out the other – if you choose to believe it.

Predestination verses  
"... In whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of him who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will..." – Ephesians 1:11 (KJV)

"... even as he [God] chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and without defect before him in love, having predestined us for adoption as children through Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his desire..." – Ephesians 1:4-5 WEB

"For whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. Whom he predestined, those he also called. Whom he called, those he also justified. Whom he justified, those he also glorified." – Romans 8:29-30 WEB

"No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise him up in the last day." – John 6:44 (WEB)

### Free will verses

Ephesians 1:11 does not mean that God works out everything, just that everything he does work out is done so according to his will. – Bruce Reichenbach

"But the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected the counsel of God..." – Luke 7:30 WEB (Many translations say "purpose" rather than "counsel," meaning God's counsel or purpose can oneself can be rejected by a person.)

"You don't have, because you don't ask." (Proving the future can be changed by our requests). – James 4:2 WEB

God had to "start over" with Noah (Genesis 6-9), and with King David (1 Samuel 15-16) since his original plan was thwarted by humans.

"Whoever therefore wants to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God." – James 4:4b WEB

### Suggested reading

Predestination & Free Will: Four Views of Divine Sovereignty & Human Freedom by John Feinberg, Norman Geisler, Bruce Reichenbach and Clark Pinnock (Edited by David Basinger and Randall Basinger.)[  
](http://owentew.journalspace.com/)

*Baseball fans please note that that know-it-all line was written in 2003, but it has since become less and less of a factual impossibility.

** This concept is similar to the multiverse theory that has become popular among some scientists and even more science fiction fans. Counterfactuals, however, would be assumed not to exist, whereas the alternative universes in the multiverse theory would be assume to exist.

# The Literary Merit of Revelation as Seen by a Comparison of the 7 Churches

Some critics have argued that the book of Revelation does not belong in the biblical cannon, saying the work lacks literary merit and/or that it is no more impressive than other apocalyptic works in circulation at the time that were deemed non-canonical.

But much structure is found in Revelation, giving it literary merit that most apocryphal and pseudepigraphal writings do not share. One example of this structure can be found in the letters to the seven churches of Asia Minor, as recorded in chapters 2 and 3, which I argue uses ancient chiastic structuring commonly seen in the Hebrew Scriptures.

While there are many methods of comparing the churches, interesting parallels can be found by starting with the first church mentioned and the last, then working inward from front and back – that is, comparing the first and seventh churches, the second and sixth, and so on. Looking at them in this way reveals similarities and opposites in each of the pairs of churches that do not occur when comparing any of the two randomly.

Beginning with the first and last churches: The Ephesians left their first love for Christ, and Christ left His first love for the Laodicians. Ephesus and Laodicia hold in common a loss of zeal for Christ. In Rev. 2:4, Christ tells the Ephesian church, "You left your first love." As Charles Ryrie points out, the word "left' implies a purposeful turning away, not an accidental act,1 and this at a church noted by the Apostle Paul for its love about 30 years earlier (Ephesians 1:15-16).

The Laodician church is scolded for being lukewarm – neither hot nor cold. And while Christ never mentions that the Laodicians have left their first love, obviously they had to have had love to begin with or the church never would had been founded in the first place. But instead of mentioning Laodicia's loss of love, He implies that His love for them has cooled: In 3:19, He says, "As many as I love, I reprove and chasten." While this statement was certainly meant to let the church know He cared for them and was rebuking them in love, the Greek word used for love in this passage is phileo,2 rather than the deeper term agape.

Agape3 is the word used by Christ in 2:4 when He rebukes the Ephesian church for losing its first love. So Christ rebukes Ephesus for losing its first agape, but then tells the Laodicians He merely has phileo for them. Just as certainly as the Laodician church began with agape for Christ, He began with agape for them. But their lukewarm attitude has reduced his love for them to phileo.

The next two churches to be compared are Smyrna and Philadelphia – the only two that receive no condemnation from Christ. They also are the only two in which he refers to apostates as a congregation of Satan (2:9, 3:9).

One of these churches, Smyrna, is promised severe tribulation while the other is promised it will be spared tribulation. This may seem unfair, especially to those Christians living in Smyrna at the close of the first century. In 2:10, Christ tells those in Smyrna not to fear what they are about to suffer. "Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested; and you will have oppression for ten days. Be faithful to death, and I will give you the crown of life." (2:10b WEB). On the other hand, He tells the Philadelphians that because they have "kept my command to endure, I also will keep you from the hour of testing which is to come on the whole world, to test those who dwell on the earth" (3:10 WEB).

To those in the historical school of interpretation (which sees each of the churches as symbolic representations of periods of church history) this perceived unfairness is perfectly explainable: Smyrna represents a period of martyrdom that took place from the turn of the first century until about 313 A.D. The "ten days" may refer to ten different periods of persecution. In fact, the name Smyrna means "myrrh,"4 a spice used in preparing bodies for burial. It also was the city in which the early church father Polycarp was slain for his faith in Christ. And Philadelphia, in the historical interpretation, represents the rapture of the church prior to the great tribulation (at least according to those with pre-tribulation views.)

There is another way of looking at the different approaches used in treating the two churches: "(Christ) knew that every church was facing its own unique struggle to be His body in the world and so He addressed each church uniquely,"5 says Billy Graham. Jesus did not mass-produce advice, Graham adds.

Third is God's sovereignty. Romans 9:6-24 discusses God's election, pointing out that He is like the potter who makes some vessels for noble purposes, others for common use. John Calvin elaborates on this passage: "Because God metes out merited penalty to those whom he condemns but distributes unmerited grace to those whom he calls, he is freed of all accusation – like a lender, who has the power of remitting payment to one, of exacting it from another."6 While this refers to God's sovereignty in election, the concept translates to His providence over individual believers as well. 1 Corinthians 12:12-31 discusses how the various members of the body of Christ have different callings and should not be jealous of other members. All callings are of equal importance, Paul says (v. 18).

The next two churches are Pergamum and Sardis. Pergamum is commended for its steadfastness, while Sardis is reproved for being dead. At the same time, a few are found in Pergamum who have turned to the teachings of Baalam and the Nicolaitans (2:14-15); while in Sardis, only a few are found faithful to Christ (3:4).

Matthew Henry, the 17th and 18th century commentator, notes that, as in the Sardis church, "God takes notice of the smallest number of those who abide with him: and the fewer they are the more precious in his sight."7 It might be said that the presence of these true followers was the only saving grace for this church. In contrast, the few who were holding to apostate teachings in Pergamum were dragging down the rest of the church. "To continue in communion with persons of corrupt principles and practices draws a guilt and blemish on the whole society," Henry says.8

Last of all is the church of Thyatira. Since there are an odd number of churches, Thyatira has no other church with which to be paired. However, there are interesting contrasts within the message to this church: Christ begins with the commendation that its members are doing greater deeds than they were at first (2:19). Not even the two churches (Smyrna and Philadelphia) that received no condemnation are specifically praised for making improvement.

But while outwardly their deeds are greater than before, inwardly they are among the worst. They tolerate "Jezebel," who teaches God's servants to "commit sexual immorality, and to eat things sacrificed to idols (2:20b WEB)." Laodicia has the reputation as the worst of the seven churches because it was neither hot nor cold and it received no commendation. But it would seem that turning a blind eye while church members are led into unspeakable sins should warrant a much harsher rebuke than does spiritual laziness. And indeed it does.

Jesus says He will throw Jezebel on a bed of sickness, in contrast to her bed of adulteries; He will throw her lovers into great tribulation unless they repent; and He will kill her children with pestilence (2:22-23). This vileness is found right in the center of the seven churches (fourth from the beginning, fourth from the end) – and at one that is increasing in good works. It should serve as a warning to churches and individual believers alike not to look merely at outward works, but at what is inside the heart as well.

## Chiastic Structure of the 7 Churches

---

#### A Ephesus – Lost their first love for Christ

#### B Smyrna – no condemnation (apostates called congregation of Satan), will be spared tribulation

#### C Pergamum – Most are faithful, but a few have turned away

#### D Thyatira – Outwardly the best, but inwardly the worst

#### C' Sardis – Most have turned away, but a few are faithful

#### B' Philadelphia – no condemnation (apostates called congregation of Satan), will suffer tribulation

#### A' Laodicia – Christ has lost his love for them

There are, of course, other methods of comparing the seven churches, but that fact does not diminish the validity of those presented here. Rather, a larger the number of comparisons actually strengthens the arguments for both the literary value and the divine inspiration of Revelation because it shows even more complexity in the work.

These contrasts show literary structure that would not have been possible from a lesser writer, and it is a mere beginning of the many such instances in Revelation. In fact, Michelle Lee's chart "Chiastic Structuring of Revelation" shows a similar contrast of opposites throughout the entire book.9 Existing pseudepigraphal and apocryphal apocalyptic writings may share some literary value with Revelation, but not to such an extent.

For instance, Revelation alone points to the end of God's dealings with mankind on earth. No mention is made in Revelation of what the afterlife is like; action is not described in the Lake of Fire or in the abyss. This jibes with the rest of the Bible. But other works, such as the Apocalypse of Peter, go into great detail about different methods by which the wicked will be punished and of the glories of heaven.10 These subjects are never discussed in the Bible, presumably because they contribute little to man's understanding of God and of God's requirements of him in this life. The Apocalypse of Peter can certainly be said to have literary value, but it is less well written than Dante's Divine Comedy, which is in the same style. Other writings, such as the Jewish Sibylline Oracles, are vague, employing signs of the zodiac with the coming of the messiah and defeat of Satan – apparently for no other reason than to make the work a Hellenization of Jewish literature.

Those who take a critical view of Revelation deny its divine inspiration, saying that it is nothing more than typical apocalyptic literature that abounded at the time. Also, many deny Johannine authorship of the book, saying that its poor grammar stands in stark contrast to the beautiful prose of the Gospel of John, or even the epistles of John. Early church historian Eusebius records Dionysius of Alexandria as objecting to the apostle as author, although he "would not dare reject the book."11 It was undoubtedly, Dionysius reasoned, written under divine inspiration – whoever the author was.

As far as bad grammar in Revelation: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is written in substandard English, but no one claims it wasn't written by Mark Twain. Twain, of course, is writing in the point of view of a poorly educated child. John isn't doing this, but he may have some other reason for using poor Greek: He was in his 90s; he was writing quickly as he saw the Revelation and may have felt he had little time; he may have had no ability to make revisions because, as an exile on a penal island, he may have had scarce instruments for writing; and, he may have wanted it to look as crude as other apocalyptic writings circulating at the time to keep it from being understood by the enemies of the church.12

None of this is absolute proof that the Apostle John is the author of Revelation, but it should dispel doubts that the book is inspired of God. A reading of other apocalyptic literature shows but a pale comparison on a spiritual level. It is not difficult for even a lay Bible student to sense the difference between John's vision and those of others.

As Dionysius asserted: "I do not reject what I have failed to understand but am rather puzzled that I failed to understand."13

In the end, one is left with two possible conclusions: Either Revelation was written by a trained writer, able to use various literary devices to make his points and to give the work a deeper texture, or it was written by a man, regardless of his education, under the inspiration of God Himself. A look at the comparisons presented here, along with an in-depth study of the numerous other literary devices employed in Revelation, show that the book should not be rejected as merely a typical apocalyptic book of the first century.

### End notes

1. Charles Caldwell Ryrie, The Ryrie Study Bible, New American Standard (Chicago: Moody Press, 1995), 2,015.

2. The New Greek/English Interlinear New Testament, trans. Robert K. Brown, and Philip W. Comfort, ed. J.D. Douglas (Wheaton, Ill.: Tyndale House Publishers, 1990), 860.

3. Ibid, 584.

4. James Strong, A Concise Dictionary of the Words in the Greek Testament (Nashville, Tenn.: Broadman & Holman Publishers), 6.

5. Billy Graham, Approaching Hoofbeats: The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Minneapolis, Minn.: Grason, 1983), 43-44.

6. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, ed. John T. McNeill (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1960), 959.

7. Matthew Henry, Zondervan NIV Matthew Henry Commentary in One Volume, eds. Rev. Dr. Leslie F. Church, and Gerald W. Peterman (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan Publishing House, 1992), 790.

8. Ibid, 789.

9. Michelle Lee, A Call to Martyrdom: The Significance of the Chiastic Structure of Revelation, Annual Meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society, Philadelphia, Pa., November 1995

10. Willis Barnstone, ed., The Other Bible (San Francisco, Calif.: HarperSanFrancisco, 1984) 532-536.

11. Paul L. Maier, trans., Eusebuis – The Church History: A New Translation with Commentary (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Kregel Publications, 1999), 272-274.

12. Funk & Wagnall's Knowledge Center, "Revelation," 2000, http://www.fwkc.com/encyclopedia/low/articles/r/r022000642f.html.

13. Maier, 272

# Of Souls and Starfish

## Our Bodies Come From Mom and Dad, But What About Our True Being?

There are multiple theories on the origin of the human soul, but only two appear compatible with evangelical theology, which we'll discuss here: creationism and traducianism.

Let's get out of the way early that we are not talking here about "creationism" in the sense that it is popularly debated in relation to the origins of physical humanity or the universe itself. We're talking instead about God creates each human soul from scratch (That's creationism) or whether it is inherited from the child's parents, much as DNA traits such as hair color are (That's traducianism.)

Creationism asserts that each soul is created by God ex nihilo, or out of nothing, while traducianism puts forth that the soul is passed down through the parents the same as is the body (Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, Walter A. Elwell, pp. 1037, 1106). Each theory has its strengths and weaknesses as well as its adherents among noted theologians.

Creationism, followed by Aristotle, Jerome, Pelagius, John Calvin, modern Roman Catholicism and many Reformed theologians, says that each individual soul is created immediately (that is, by God's direct hand, without using outside help) and is placed in the body at conception or soon afterward (Theologia, David H. Wietzke). While the material body is passed down through generations by the parents, the soul is created by God and placed in the body, according to this theory.

The Genesis account of creation states that the body was taken from the earth, while the spirit came directly from God, and this is a driving factor in the thinking of those holding the creationism view. "This distinction is kept up throughout the Bible, where body and soul are not only represented as different substances, but also as having different origins," notes L. Berkhof in his Systematic Theology (p. 199).

Scriptures commonly used to back the creationist view include (WEB):

  * "... the dust [body] returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it." (Ecclesiastes 12:7)

  * "God, the God of the spirits of all flesh... (Numbers 16:22a)

  * God "gives breath to its people and spirit to those who walk in it." (Isaiah 42:5b)

  * The Lord "forms the spirit of man within him." (Zechariah 12:1).

### Strengths

Wayne Grudem points to Psalm 127:3 (WMB) ("Behold, children are a heritage of the LORD. The fruit of the womb is his reward.") as an indication that the entire person, both soul and body, are a creation of God and can therefore not be attributed to the parents alone. (Systematic Theology, pp. 484, 485.) Berkhof (p.199) points out that creationism prevents a division of the soul, which he says traducianism requires. Also, he says, it prevents the conclusion that Christ shared in the guilt of Adam's sin. Had Christ's soul been imparted from parent to child since Adam, Christ would have inherited original sin.

### Weaknesses

Augustus H. Strong in Systematic Theology (p. 493) argues that the theory makes God the author of evil since he would be creating a sinless soul and forcing it to become corrupt by uniting it to a fallen body. Berkhof (p. 200) points out that it might be said creationism "ascribes to the beast nobler powers of propagation than to man" since animals reproduce after their kind, but man needs God to reproduce the spiritual portion of himself. Further, says Berkhof, it ignores the fact that God now works through secondary causes. But he notes that the objection isn't very serious to those who don't hold a deistic worldview.

Finally, William G.T. Shedd in Dogmatic Theology (Vol. 2, p. 28) says, "The few texts that are quoted in favor of creationism are as easily applicable to traducianism." (e.g. Isaiah 57:16, "The souls whom I have made." Shedd says there is no distinction between soul and body proved.)

The strongest objection appears to be that of God creating sinless souls that are forced to sin. Roman Catholicism believes man is no longer created in the image of God, but receives this gift, so this objection for them becomes moot. (Wietzke, Cornelius Jaarsma, "A Christian Theory of the Person.") For Reformed theologians, it is a more difficult objection to answer. For them certain passages, such Hebrews 7:10, where the writer makes reference to Levi being in the body of Abraham when his grandfather paid the tithe to Melchizedek, would probably be ascribed to metaphorical language. (Wietzke.)

Traducianism, on the other hand, followed by Tertullian, Martin Luther, the Eastern Church and some Reformed theologians such as Strong, asserts that since man reproduces after his kind, the soul is part of that which is procreated along with the body. While God is the Creator of the individual soul, this creation is mediate —meaning it is done through secondary means (Elwell p.1106). God created for six days, then rested from his work of creating on the seventh day and has been at rest since.

Scripture says that God breathed the breath of life into Adam, giving him a soul, but no mention is made of God giving a soul to Eve or any human descendant thereafter (Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, p. 254). Hebrews 7:10, as mentioned before, credits Levi with paying a tithe to Melchizedek because, though unborn, he was in the body of his ancestor Abraham (Wietzke). Though the verse doesn't impress creationists, traducionists think it proves their point.

Scriptures cited by traducianists include (WEB):

  * "On the seventh day God finished his work which he had done; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had done." (Gen. 2:2)

  * "(Levi) was yet in the body of his father when Melchizedek met him." (Heb. 7:10)

  * "For man is not from woman, but woman from man." (1 Cor. 11:8)

### Strengths

The traducianist position makes for a simpler understanding of how Adam's descendants are culpable for original sin. Perhaps the creationists are correct that the corrupt nature is imputed because of Adam's federal headship, and thereby a representative of humanity as a whole. But if this assumption is incorrect, it may be difficult to explain why this imputation is fair.

It may be argued that imputation of sin is no less fair than imputation of Christ's righteousness to the Christian since neither is deserved. But for those who cannot conceive of a God who declares rational beings corrupt before they have done good or bad, traducianism is the only logical choice since it says the soul is passed down from sinful parents.

And a person with Arminian beliefs could argue further that there is indeed a difference between imputation of sin and imputation of righteousness: No human ever chose to be born, but some have chosen to be "born again," thus doing something to receive the reward of imputed righteousness.

Tertullian was said to have argued that "our first parent bore within him the undeveloped germ of all mankind." (Shedd, p. 7) This might be looked at the same as a single-cell zygote that divides into two cells, then into four, etc., until something more resembling a human being develops. The single cell was the complete human at that time, although some years later it became a fully mature person.

Adam (the male and female together) was complete humanity at the moment of original sin. Through procreation, humanity has since come to encompass millions more persons, just as the zygote divided cells. I am of Adam just as I am of a single-cell zygote. And if my body is of Adam, why not my soul? As a result, Shedd says (p.14), Adam's posterity "sinned the first sin being seminally existent and present."

Hodge (p.255) notes that one of the strongest arguments in favor of traducianism is the fact that "ethnical, national, family and even parental peculiarities of mind and temper" are transmitted to children. This would point to a derivation not only of body, says Hodge, but also of soul.

### Weaknesses

This argument, however, also leads to one of the strongest objections to this theory. Creationists say that if the traducianist view is valid, then the soul of one or both parents must give of part of itself. Says Berkhof (p.198), one of three theories must be used to avoid this problem:

  * The soul of the child had a previous existence, which is counter to orthodox theology;

  * The soul of the child is potentially present in the seed of the mother and/or father, which equates to materialism (i.e. there is no spiritual reality, but only physical);

  * The soul is created in some way by the parents, making them creators rather than God.

Further, Christ, if fully human, would have inherited original sin through Mary since he would have obtained his soul through her. Perhaps God created a special human soul for Christ, but that would make him of a different human race than the rest of humanity, negating his ability to redeem the fallen (Wietzke).

But saying one or both of the parents would be giving part of their soul to create the new one isn't really any different than saying they were giving part of their body to create a new one. And the latter statement is certainly incorrect. Rather, the father contributes semen and the mother contributes an egg. These are in their bodies, not part of them.

As to the objection of soul division, one needs only look to the animal world. A starfish, for example, can be cut into five equal parts and each part will regenerate a completely new starfish (Lynda Harding, California State at Fresno, "Asexual Reproduction") An animal that previously possessed one spirit or consciousness now possesses five. While a starfish is not a human able to know or reject God, it is certainly not a plant and so it has consciousness. It may be impossible to fathom that a single thinking entity, no matter how primitive, could become five distinct entities, yet this is the case with the starfish. Is the consciousness of this animal divided or are four new ones created? It is impossible to know, but by whichever means, it does happen.

As to Christ inheriting original sin through Mary: Following traducianism's linkage of the body and soul, it is possible that no human inherits sin through his mother's soul any more than he inherits mitochondrial DNA from his father. Mitochondria are life-giving organelles that power every organ of the body (Charles Pellegrino, Return to Sodom and Gomorrah, p.67) but they are passed down only through the mother. In the same fashion, only the father can pass down the Y chromosome. Is it possible that only the father can pass down the corrupted nature? If so, why wouldn't the mother contribute, being fallen herself?

If the body and soul are indeed linked, one might consider the difference between the male and female gametes. A female is born with every egg she will ever possess, but the male produces sperm throughout his lifetime. So sperm is perpetually produced inside a corrupted body, but the ovum might theoretically be traced back to Eve before she committed original sin. If the ovum is considered uncorrupted then a supernatural fertilization from the Holy Spirit would produce a sinless person who also shared in our same humanity.

Another objection to traducianism is that it asserts that God only acts _mediately,_ or through secondary causes, since the original act of creation (Berkhof, p. 198). While this may be the position of some traducianists, it is not an ironclad rule. God could possibly create souls through secondary means yet still create other things _immediately_. One does not imply the other.

### Conclusion

In the end, traducianists seem to have the more solid arguments, though there is no absolute biblical proof for either side. Realizing this, it is best to agree with Augustine that this subject, while intriguing, should not be overemphasized. Rather, all should agree that the soul's "proper abode" and "homeland" is with God (Elwell p. 1037).

# About the Author

Greg Richter has been a newspaper and online journalist for more than 30 years and has won multiple awards for his writing and for headlines. He studied journalism at The University of Alabama at Birmingham and took classes in biblical studies at Southeastern Bible College.

He grew up in Cullman, Alabama, believing in God, and gave his life to Jesus Christ at age 19 as he walked from his first journalism class to his car.

He lives in the house built in 1885 by his great-grandparents, where he spends his days with his wife, Laura Axelrod, his dog, Molly, and cats Angela and Andretti.

He has driven a 1957 Chevrolet pickup since 1984.

# Other Works by This Author

 The Easy Budget: How to Always Have the Money You Need (Pharaoh's Drawers/ebookstalktome 2010)

 Legendary Locals of Cullman County – with Kay Cagle (Arcadia 2014)

Becoming Colonel Cullmann – (cinematographer/editor, directed and produced by Laura Axelrod, Pharaoh's Drawers 2014)

# Acknowledgements

I want to thank my wife, Laura Axelrod, a fellow writer, for allowing me the time to spend on this and other projects. And my parents, Louie Richter and Jean Moore, for raising me right.

Thanks to my Sunday school teacher, Wes Warren, for the inspiration for the "Bee Attitudes" essay and to St. John's Evangelical Protestant Church pastor, the Rev. Dr. John Richter and associate pastor, the Rev. Nate Randall for their encouragement.

I appreciate all the suggestions and corrections from my beta readers: John Richter, Daryl Hyde, Elaine Smith and Wes Warren, and my editor, Laura Axelrod.

Thanks to Molly for being a good dog, and to Phillip Paul, Angela and Andretti for being good kitties.
