I wonder

Do you ever get really curious about things while reading the Bible?  Because sometimes when I read, and especially the Old Testament when the stuff that happens is mostly drama-full (I'm in 2 Thessalonians right now, and as much as I love Paul's stuff, it doesn't have quite the same flavor as in the time of the Kings and such), I have questions that aren't important, but that I'm looking forward to having answered in Heaven one day.

For instance, does anyone else wonder what happened to Goliath's sword?  In 1 Samuel 21:9 it was given to David to protect against Saul (again) and we know the results of that: Saul had the priests killed.  But what happened to it after that?  One might assume that a weapon of such size might be slightly difficult to conceal.  But (as far as I remember, anyhow) it's not mentioned again in the Bible, leading one to assume that it just disappeared somewhere.  Maybe beaten into a plowshare at some point or something, haha.  But it's always been curious to me.

Speaking of, in the next chapter it talks about David going to the King of Moab to help hide his parents.  All good and well, we know David did a lot of weird things to prevent being killed off by Saul, but when he went to Moab was it with a specific purpose?  Because when you hark back to the story of Ruth and Boaz, you see that Jesse was actually their grandson, making David a great-grandson to a Maobitess.  But that's what I wonder:  did the king of Moab know that when David brought Jesse and the Mrs. to him for protection?  Did he partially do it because they were kind of related to his country?  Or did he just like the whole political intrigue of hiding high-profile parents?  

Those are just two examples.

I totally can't wait for Heaven.

Speak

In the Bible, when the Lord spoke to all those folks in the Old Testament, do you think He spoke aloud? We know that there are times when He came in person form, or when an angel came to send the message. Those times, I'm pretty sure there was audible stuff going on. In those cases it's easy for us to think, "Well, of course they obeyed!" or, better yet, "That was silly of them not to do what He asked--He spoke it plain as day!" But what about when He spoke to Elijah--could Elijah hear it as if someone were speaking to him, or was it more like we hear the Lord today, a knowing in our souls?

When God came to Samuel, we know Samuel heard it aloud. Well, if he didn't, he heard it clearly enough to have thought it was aloud, as shown in the fact that he kept on running to Eli to see why he was calling for him.

In the New Testament we know that while the Lord was on the Earth, He certainly spoke to people, but once He went back to sit down on the right hand of the Father, I think that when He spoke to people, it was in words spoken to their ears alone. Like the passage where Paul begs the Lord to take away his thorn in the flesh, and the Lord simply tells him that His grace was sufficient for Paul. But when Paul was converted on the way to Damascus, I'm guessing Paul heard that voice aloud. Even the other people heard a voice (though it doesn't say what those people heard, exactly).

What I'm getting at is that I don't know if those in the Old Testament had it "easier" than we do in terms of hearing the Lord speak. Bottom line, it's something we have to listen to. His words are there for us to read, every minute, in the Word of God. And if we'd spend a little time being still enough to hear what He has to say, I think we'd hear a lot more. What matters is what we do with the words once we hear them. If we ignore them, as we are apt to do, then what are we accomplishing by listening in the first place? The best idea? Listen, and do. He's got it all mapped out, if only we'll follow His directives.

PS, that's easier said than done.

There's something about Heritage

I loved Rome. I loved everywhere I went, actually (my layover in Poland made me wish I could live there.... it was amazing), but there was something about Rome. Knowing that Paul used to hang out there, that Nero used to burn it down for fun (well, that was once, but still!), that the Christians in Romans huddled together to read Paul's letter to them... I don't know, it was pretty cool.

Not to mention: the Colosseum. I loved it. There was something about standing in that expansive structure, looking across at the floor (which wasn't as big as maybe I thought it would be), and knowing that the blood of hundreds of thousands of people had been mingled with the sand under the sound of a cheering mob... it was rather moving. Then to think of how many of those were Christians, killed for sport. I wanted to stand there and cry, but there were a bunch of people hanging around, so I didn't.

Also, we went to the catacombs. I mentioned those a few weeks ago, and I must admit, I thought it was well worth the admission price. Standing in the dark tunnels, running my hand across the uneven walls, wondering how many people used to call it home... Again, moving.

The weirdest thing, though, is how unimportant that seemed to the other tourists. Obviously, if you don't care about Christ, you're not going to care about the Christians who lived and died in His name, but I kept on looking around that great city and thinking: why are these crazy people here? It was crowded and full of other irritating tourists (and 55,000 German kids, thanks to our poor timing) and besides, they're just old buildings. I just couldn't imagine going there just for the sake of going. I was there to see one of the places the Bible happened! And it was totally worth it.

It also made me want to run home and read every book I'd ever read about Rome. I've read dozens of historical novels set in Rome over the years, and now that I've been there I figure I'll appreciate them even more. I haven't taken the time yet, but I have enjoyed reading those New Testament Pauline epistles since I returned. While I have no idea where Paul was under his house arrest, I know that he was there long enough to write some pretty swell parts of the Bible! I just keep thinking, "I was there, where the early Church was when they were still considered early! And where they used to hide out in fear, but sing out in boldness, in the face of all that went on."

I walked some of those streets. They've doubtlessly been re-cobbled, but fact is, it was the same part of the world. That was enough for me.

Asking about Acts - Part II

Let's talk for just a minute about Acts 27. Great chapter, truly it is, but there's one thing I always hear about it that sort of gets to me. Which is to say, Acts 27:29. "Then fearing lest we should have fallen upon rocks, they cast four anchors out of the stern, and wished for day."

The romantical side of me just likes to hear about a ship full of people wishing for day. Sounds cool (especially since you know they all survived at the end, phew), but it's the four anchors I hear a lot about. I'm not sure if any of the rest of you hear about these four anchors, but I highly recommend that if you're not familiar with a good sermon or two on the subject, that you head over to Google and, well, google it. "Acts 27 four anchors" is all it takes to come up with dozens of thoughts on these anchors.

I hear all sort of thoughts about them. Article number one on that Google search says that the four anchors are representative of Paul's steadiness in the storm. 1. He was in the presence of God, 2. He was God's possession, 3. He had a sense of purpose, and 4. He had a positive confession of his faith.

Well, these things are all good and right, but is that really what those four anchors represent?

Another article (also in the top ten Google listings under the search for "Acts 20 four anchors") says that the four anchors were that Paul 1. Prayed, 2. Had the Word of God, 3. Obeyed God, and 4. Had the hope of salvation. Once again, great things, but is that what those anchors mean?

I've heard other things. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, if you'll believe it, were once referred to as the four anchors. In Acts 2:42 mentions new Christians continuing steadfastly in 1. The apostle's doctrine, 2. fellowship, 3. Breaking of bread, and 4. prayers. That's pretty popular from what I've personally heard.

Anyhow, there are more, which doubtless I'll remember in the middle of the night tonight, but you get the idea.

Now, I'm not trying to be contrary (although I realize I come off as sort of contrary sometimes), but I'm trying to be practical, I guess. My hang-up with this whole situation is this: why are we comparing things to these anchors, anyhow? The anchors sure didn't help the ship, did they? This was a ship that, if we're trying to compare apples to apples, wouldn't even be qualified as a Christian ship (re-read the chapter, I'm sure it'll make sense in a moment!). So the illustration is already a little flimsy, in my opinion.

So, like I say, we have a ship who'd been trying, on its own merit, to reach land, cast these four anchors into the sea, and, well, that didn't work either. The ship broke in pieces, much like Humpty Dumpty, I imagine, only with less yolk.

May I reiterate: why do we like this illustration so much? These four anchors gave those sea-sick people not one ounce of help, and I'd like to keep viewing prayer and obedience to God as something that'll help me, thanks for asking. I once decided that I was going to sermonize all on my own, and started telling people that I thought that the four anchors referred to Jacob's four wifely things. Moral of that story? Have just one wife. For some reason that doctrine never really caught on, funny... =)

This really solved nothing, I suppose, but it felt nice to spit it all out.

Asking about Acts - Part I

So here's a good question: how do we know that Luke wrote Luke and Acts? I've been pondering this recently, and have been doing my best to look it up, but everyone just says that "it's generally acknowledged" Luke wrote them. We know the author was a traveling companion of Paul, and that he uses "we" starting whenever he jumped aboard Paul's journeys, but Paul had lots of companions.

No seriously, why are we all so certain that he wrote the books?

Contented

I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. ~Paul

That Paul was an amazing fellow. Content in every situation? That's some seriously amazing stuff. There are a lot of things that make me content, of course, like freshly-fallen snow, or seeing people read books, or my room being tidy, or watching old people who still love each other, but I'm the first to admit that I'm a long way away from being content in every situation.

My brother and I were discussing last night about whether or not it's possible for a Christian to be perfect. I think yes, he thinks no. The Lord gave us a new life, and it we let the flesh talk us into sinning, then it's our fault. I think we should be able to live our life as the Lord intended us to. Not because we're perfect people (we've already sinned, so it's not like it would change that), but because we're changed. Changed for most situations means a different colour of paint, or less time in the principle's office. Changed for a Christian means entirely, %100 different. That's huge.

So maybe I should take my own thoughts to heart and take a look at what makes me discontent and change my feelings on the matter. After all, if Paul, who was beaten and stoned and eventually killed could be content in all situations, than who am I, with my roof over my head, the coziest bed on planet earth, and a family never far away to be discontent in any situation?

Put that way, there's really not much left to say, is there?

DV

First of all, I have to make note of the fact that I can never remember how the full version of "DV" is actually pronounced. Domnus Vet....something. I remember it easily as "da Lord 'Villing" with a weird sort of German accent or something. Can't say I didn't try.

But I was just thinking about that the other day. When I say "the other day" I mean "yesterday" because I happened to be reading up on some Paul (practicing for my order of the Corinthian nun, no doubt) when he was talking about this. He was visiting somewhere--Ephesus, I think?--and they were all sad, and he told them that he'd see them again, Lord willing. Well, in actual fact I believe he did see them again--it talks about sailing through Ephesus a few chapters later--but what this set me to wondering was this: is it always legitimate to say "Lord willing?"

Here's the deal. James says that we ought to say "if the Lord will" etc. but what if we say that, the Lord does will, and we fall down on the job? The Lord knows what's going to happen, obviously, but a lot of times we say Lord Willing as sort of a way to get out of things we don't want to do. "Well, I'll come to the hospital to clean up vomit later, Lord willing," and then when it doesn't happen, we feel justified because we didn't have time. That's a bad example, because I don't think very many of us have had that experience.

But should we really be throwing that around all the time so casually? I know that I personally qualify just about every third sentence with a "Lord willing" because I never know when I'm going to get raptured and not be able to do something, or hit by a car, or kidnapped by a mad scientist or something. Am I leaving for California tomorrow? Lord willing. I hope to, but I may not. But if I just don't get on the plane in the morning, but choose rather to hang out at the airport for a week and a half, is it going to be because the Lord willed it, or because I'm a moron?

The Lord is willing to do a lot of things that don't happen. The Lord is not willing that any should perish, for instance, and last I checked, people are still perishing.

I'm not trying to suggest that anybody stop saying Lord Willing, by the way. I for one would have a really tough time cutting it out of my vocabulary, and I'm fine with that. But I think what I'm trying to say is that we should examine our own actions more, perhaps. I don't know. I guess it can sort of boil down to the fact that in the garden the Lord Jesus said that if the Father was willing, then could He remove this cup from Him? And the answer to that was no. So maybe it's not so much about what our actions do and don't say about us, but rather that we show ourselves willing to follow the Lord's directives.

But this whole when-to-say-it-and-when-not-to-say-it thing still gets me. For instance, what if I planned to rob the bank later this afternoon? Would I be as apt to say, "well, I'm going to head over to the bank and rob it, Lord willing" as I would be to say, "well, I'm going to head over to Drug Mart and buy some post cards, Lord Willing"? But when I'm saying the deal about the post cards I guess what I usually mean is "time permitting." Obviously I guess I'd stop if the Lord showed me that He wasn't willing to buy post cards, which I guess would mean I would stop robbing the bank if He didn't want me to do that, either. But if I'm going to say Lord Willing about stuff that I think is kosher (buying post cards, going to California, making pizza for supper) then I guess it means I shouldn't do anything I'm not willing to tack a Lord Willing onto. Is that it? If you're not comfortable saying "Lord Willing" after something, then you're maybe not supposed to do it?

I don't know. Maybe next time I'm trying to make a decision I'll test-run a few sentences with a Lord Willing after it. I'm going to Europe this summer, Lord Willing.

See, but sometimes you just like the way something sounds, even if maybe the Lord still doesn't will. Who doesn't want to go to Europe this summer?

Anyhow, this got convoluted and off-topic, but it was just something that crossed my poor tangled mind. This much I know--I'm going to keep on saying "Lord Willing," Lord willing.

Christianity Today--November style

I believe I’ve mentioned before that I enjoy reading Christianity Today. It’s a good magazine, I would (usually) recommend it. But since I’m sort of poor, and frugal anyhow (though not a FCP, exactly—it’s in the urban dictionary, look it up), I get the subscription from the library, both to support the library, and also my money-saving habits.

Which means that by the time I’ve read the magazine, whatever it is saying is old news. Since it’s a magazine it’s technically sort of all old news, though, so I don’t feel too badly about it. Especially since most of the things in CT aren’t exactly time-sensitive anyhow. For instance, last month I finally read the November issue, and the cover story was on hunger, which is certainly a current issue (if you don’t believe me, read the article) but one that is just as current now as it was back in November.

Now, I usually really like to read this magazine. I usually go to the library on the second or third day of a month so that I can read last month’s issue once it has been shelved and is available. But for some reason, I could not STAND the November issue. I think I must have been having a bad day when I read it, or perhaps it was still too early in the morning (I’m not exactly a morning person), but whatever the cause, it was not a favorite of mine. A few reasons I disliked it follow.

1) Politics. Yes, okay, it was the November issue, elections were right around the corner (actually, elections pretty much were the corner that month) and it was historical and all that, but I was so tired of hearing about the elections, it wasn’t even funny. Not only that, but I’m one of those stodgy Earth-is-not-my-home Christians, and Christianity Today is decidedly not stodgy in that regard. In fact, they just ran an article about a year ago about how Heaven might be our home, but Earth is our stomping ground, and we should treat is as such, and do things like give it environmental makeovers and get into politics and the such. They were very convinced that Christians who didn’t join city council were in the wrong. Sorry, mister, I’m one of those ones.

2) Secondly (or maybe still firstly, because I’m still on a political kick here) they acted like they were all neutral in the elections, but they totally weren’t. You could see it all over the issue, that they were fervently hoping Obama would win. And I’m fine with that, because, well, I didn’t really care one way or the other. The Bible says that the basest of men are set up in government. Tru dat, Daniel. But really, if you’re going to have an opinion one way (which is what they had) then stop dancing around the bush. That’s what I say.

3) On that same subject, they reviewed a book called “Electing Not to Vote” and gave it a whopping one star. Just to give you a feel for how insane this is, I’ve seen them give morally inappropriate movies many more stars than that. Don’t quite remember how many stars (they base on a five-star system, so I don’t want to go too overboard with generalizations here) but whatever the case, they were not a fan of this book. I’ve never read the book in question, of course, but the author of the article says it’s the smuggest book he’s ever read. He compares the book’s ideology with that of a man being so against the government that he didn’t even get a driver’s license. Uh, last I checked, John Wilson, voting wasn’t a law. They do that in foreign countries, remember? They go so far as to “helpfully” fill out the ballot for the voters, so they still get to vote and the government still gets their person to win. That doesn’t sound very fun to me, sorry.

4) Two words. Ray Boltz. I almost threw up when I read that. What is the world coming to? And why do I expose myself to that sort of information? The magazine touches on that subject fairly often, but I just never learn. Honestly, I think that was what made me dislike the issue so much, now that I think of it.

5) This isn’t a dislike but an amused like. I have several friends who like Dave Ramsey, and I was amused to see him in the magazine. But I loved his point about living on less than you make. Amen, brother!

6) Oh, and Google finally let religious folk advertise stuff about abortion. I knew they were liberal, but I always pretend they secretly aren’t that liberal. Ah, the fake world I construct in my head.

7) I tried to figure out where Christianity Today stood on all that egalitarian stuff, but I can’t figure it out. Personally, I refer to Paul. Women should keep silence in the churches? Okey-dokey. Do women have an integral part in the body of Christ? Uh, yeah. Sounds fairly clear cut to me, fellows.

8) By this point in the magazine I skipped through a bunch of stuff. I skimmed the stuff about the KKK and Timothy McVeigh being Christian, pausing only to wonder if perhaps anyone had stopped to realize that it takes a personal relationship with Christ to qualify as “Christian.” It seems to make sense intuitively that to be a Christian you have to actually be a “Christ One” but I guess if you’re Timothy McVeigh and you say you’re a Christian, then you’re in the club. Sadly, I’m sure there were members of the KKK who were legitimately Christian, but delusional. Which should be a lesson to us: just because we claim we do things in the name of Christ doesn’t mean we can’t be simultaneously delusional.

9) I am so sick of Christianity Today’s movie and book reviews. I’ve already touched on their review of the Election book, but it’s a constant battle for me to not take a black marker to their reviews. They review movies based on talent and such, which is very important (and yes, they love art above all in their movie-reviewing cubicles) but the magazine is called Christianity Today, for crying out loud! Can’t we at least have thoughts on the moral content and the social implications of the movie? And I fall short: I watch some movies with questionable content, but in general, I’d prefer to stick to family-friendly Disney and Hallmark movies and let the Oscars keep their R-rated movies.

10) I like Switchfoot, I really do. I don’t know all their music, but what I have heard, I enjoy. But when Mark Moring (who wrote an article on Switchfoot, though he usually does movie reviews, I’m not a fan of his reviews, but I’m sure he’s a very nice person) referenced “JPMs” I very nearly hit the roof. Although Mark Moring didn’t straight-out say that having lots of “Jesuses Per Minute” was a bad thing, exactly, he did imply such. It made me feel like an inferior person for enjoying music that has a lot of JPMs. The truth of the matter is, as long as the music is clean (and I am insistent on this point, as my friends can attest to) I’m usually fine with it. But I enjoy decidedly Christian music, because, well, I am a Christian. It’s like shampoo. I’m a female, and there’s no rule about me needing to use “special girl shampoo” as opposed the regular stuff, but it smells good, is better for my hair, and since the shampoo is specially formulated for the health of my hair, and I have scads of hair, why not use the special kind? Well I’m a Christian the same way I am a female. Christian music talks about (sings about?) the things I want to be hearing, and it’s better for me than listening to Brad Paisley or Rihanna or whomever else there might be out there. Is there a moral problem with their music? Well, I have no idea, since I don’t really listen to them (though I have heard Brad Paisley songs I am not fond of, and I think I’ve heard a Rihanna song—something about umbrellas?), but providing there isn’t a moral dilemma, I’m sure there’s nothing innately wrong with listening to their music. But I’d just prefer to listen to the Christian stuff, since it usually helps lift up rather than maintain the same status or sink lower. Honestly, it’s like math: it’s not that complicated.

11) And finally, a word to Philip Yancey. He wrote the “Back Page” article in the issue, and discussed some church hopping he and his wife recently did. That’s fine, I mean, it sure did work for the characters in Ray Blackston’s Flabbergasted books, but I have just one question for him. In one of the most liberal churches he went to (complete with a PC Lord’s Prayer, as if the Lord’s goal was really to be PC) he found the most “energy.” I understand that you were looking for aliveness and all that, but if you had wanted to just find energy, try a rock concert, Mr. Yancey. Or maybe just a Switchfoot concert. I hear they have lots of energy, and almost no JPMs. Maybe that’s what you’re looking for.

Anyhow, after writing this entire list of things, I have to sit back and think: why do I read this magazine? I feel like with this issue, especially, I found a bevy of things I disliked, and not so many things I did. For now, I think I’ll continue to read the magazine (yeah, I’m a slow learner), but keep an eye out for further craziness. They don’t say anything overtly wrong (…) but the truth of the matter is, they say a lot of things I could do without.