A Wet Noodle To A Sword Fight

Recently i instigated (rather sarcastically i should add) a logic discussion with someone who by their own admission isn’t a Christian. Now don’t throw up your hands at my insolence just yet. To my credit i didn’t know that at the time as he was making himself out to be a most authoritative and outspoken kind of a Christian. You know the types, the ones who should be able to handle a bit of the confrontation that they so frequently serve up. I was under the impression he could handle a little engagement of logic and doctrine but that didn’t turn out to be the case and so i endured the whining and the slander that for some reason seem to accompany those of the liberal persuasion. If you ever find yourself in that position, here’s a word of wisdom: When entering a sword fight, refrain from going blow to blow on those who draw a wet noodle from their scabbard. (Full disclosure: I have documented all of the public conversations in their entirety and because it was quite a scene if anyone is concerned or would like to bring a charge, i will gladly hand over a copy of said conversations.)

That whole thing got me thinking. First, about the parable Jesus gives of the Pharisee and the tax collector who went up to pray. I was wondering, would it change the essence of the parable if for instance the Pharisee and the tax collector offered each other’s prayers? If the tax collector turned out to be the haughty one instead of the Pharisee? What about if we give the same parable but use a presumptuous ice cream truck driver and a humble pastor? Maybe I’m missing something, but it seems to me that Jesus is taking a shot at an attitude rather than an occupation.

It seems  that Jesus is taking a shot at presumption not vocation. If that is in fact the case, it would logically explain why the humiliated prostitutes and thieves didn’t evoke the same flavor of “truth in love” as the religious leaders of the day. Think of the woman caught in adultery and the thief on the cross propped up next to the religious leaders, quite a difference. But what is the difference? Well there are obviously quite a few so maybe we should think about the similarities. They’re all filthy, condemned sinners who will shrivel from the wrath of God apart from Jesus Christ. While they had different parents, occupations, probably different clothes; they got their jollies differently and yet they were all undeserving sinners. So what is the difference that provoked such distinct interaction.

A telling clue is found in Matthew 9:11-12, “And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.” Weren’t they all sick? Jesus distinguished not between actual need as all men are in need (Romans 3:23), rather He was distinguishing between those who admitted it and the stiff-necks! In doing so, He even granted the Pharisees their inadequate self-assessment that they were healthy and righteous (Matthew 9:13).

These presumptuous types evoked the same “truth in love” as all the other sinners, it’s just a bit more spicy. We have missed the point completely if we begin to ignore the fact that when Jesus came to save the world and not to condemn the world, He wasn’t making exceptions when it came to the proud and “righteous” Pharisees.

So often we hear people cry foul, “you’re judging me” or “you aren’t being loving like Jesus” “you’re just like the religious leaders who crucified Jesus” and obviously there are times when that may be true but more times than not, those are the fussers who are trying to pay the ref. Obviously the cheaters are going to be unhappy unless they’re winning but that shouldn’t stop us from pulling back the curtains and exposing them to the bright light of truth. But what does that look like? For someone like me, it is easy to question why Jesus didn’t point out right then and there that these jokers were so far from righteousness.

Allow me to quote Francis Shaeffer at length, “At the point of tension the person is not in a place of consistency in his system, and the roof is built as a protection against the blows of the real world, both internal and external. It is like the great shelters built upon some mountain passes to protect vehicles from the avalanches of rock and stone which periodically tumble down the mountain. The avalanche, in the case of the non-Christian, is the real and the abnormal, fallen world which surrounds him. The Christian, lovingly, must remove the shelter and allow the truth of the external world and of what man is, to beat upon him. When the roof is off, each man must stand naked and wounded before the truth of what is. (Christian View of Philosophy and Culture, Francis A. Shaeffer, p. 140)

Shaeffer goes on to say that for someone like this we don’t come galloping in with a dogmatic statement of the truth of the Scriptures rather the truth of the external world and the truth of what man himself is—a sinner. When this avalanche of truth barrels through it is quite enlightening. Think about Christ’s crucifixion, the religious leaders didn’t take His life, He gave it and He gave it for sinners, that’s you and me. Whether prostitute or Pharisee. Some look at the religious leaders of Jesus’ day and gloat just like the praying Pharisee, “At least I’m not like those religious leaders who crucified Jesus. I make my living as an ice cream truck driver.” These are the guys who handle truth like they handle a wet bar of soap in the shower—the guys who bring a wet noodle to a sword fight.

Logic

I would say that i’m a logical person.  Some say they see the glass half full other the glass half empty but there are those of us who would say, “well technically both are equally true”.  We’re sometimes labeled realist, but i prefer the label: Biblical.

In the Bible what you’ll find is an infinite and unconditionally all-sovereign God.  He’s the creator and He calls the shots.  He knows the end from the beginning and He makes no bones about it.  This for me defines every aspect of my thinking.  If it wasn’t for this reality i don’t believe it would be possible to worship God with all my mind.

I’ve heard it said and more frequently hinted at that to believe or have faith in God we must reject what is logical—this is a lie.

God doesn’t defy logic, He infinitely exceeds it, you can’t reject logic to receive God.

Just to be clear, what i’m saying is that logic and truth go hand in hand. You cant have one without the other.  I make this claim by defining truth as Jesus Christ.  In other words the God (the person and His nature and work) revealed in the Bible is the very definition of truth—it is the standard by which we discern what is good and evil, what is truth and what is a lie.  What is true is logical and what is logical is true.  This isn’t to say that truth is logic, they are the same thing but they describe one another.  That being said, truth can be beyond our comprehension and thereby not appear to us as logical.

When things happen to us that don’t seem logical (i.e. someone we love dies or we’re sold into slavery for no apparent reason), that doesn’t mean they aren’t, it just means we don’t fully understand God’s logic or God’s purpose.  This is not because God defies logic or contradicts logic, rather He infinitely exceeds it.  Do you see the difference?  If something happens and i don’t understand the purpose, i can still trust that God’s the good author, who knows the end from the beginning and i can and should do so logically for this very reason.

Now if things happen that in fact do contradict our logic, this only means our logic isn’t logic at all, it’s really foolish ignorance and we’re on the slippery slope of doubt and almost there.  The remedy for such foolishness is to repent and trust on Christ our treasure.  If you are on this slippery slope, and you find your “logic” being defied by God, there is a recorded prayer from the Bible that you should pray, “I believe, help my unbelief!”.  Amen.

God’s Tools.

No, i am not talking about pastors and evangelist or any believers for that matter. I’m talking about when evil things happen, when bad stuff happens we are all so quick to rebuke the devil and blame it on a fallen world and for some strange reason we, in those times, suddenly forget that God—the creator God, the One the Holy Scriptures speak of— is sovereign. Meaning nothing can get by Him. That means when evil things happen (i.e. captivity, death, destruction), God is ultimately the one from whom it comes.

I guess that’s my point, sometimes God’s tools aren’t exactly what we’d expect from an all good God—and He is ALL GOOD (cf Is. 10, Amos 3:6, Job 2:10). Does an evil tool taint a good, just God? Can God, who is the standard of good and justice even be tainted?

Suppose maybe we should think about these things next time evil things are going down? Suppose maybe instead of instantly rebuking satan or answering evil with neat and seemingly logical answers like, “well you see the earth is cursed, blah blah blah, darkness and cold and heat and light blah blah blah…”, we should just humbly confess our inadequacies and weakness and repent of our inherent foolishness and trust on the preeminent Christ who is our Source?

I suppose we humans tend to forget that water is wet and fire is hot, and God is God and we are not…

Patrick wasn’t technically irish either…

Last year (in part because of my short adventure in Dublin) i read the book How the Irish Saved Civilization. I thoroughly enjoyed it and came away with some amazing and inspiring information.  So in honor of St. Patrick, who can be particularly thanked for the saving of civilization due to his teachings and proclaiming of the Gospel on the glorious island, here are a few excerpts from Thomas Cahill’s wonderful book that are specific of Mr. Patrick:

“Patrick could put himself—imaginatively—in the position of the Irish. To him, no less than to them, the world is full of magic. One can invoke the elements—the lights of heaven, the waves of the sea, the birds and the animals—and these will come to one’s aid, as in the incantation of the “Breastplate.” The difference between Patrick’s magic and the magic of the druids is that in Patrick’s world all beings and events come from the hand of a good God, who loves human beings and wishes them success. And though that success is of an ultimate kind—and, therefore, does not preclude suffering—all nature, indeed the whole of the created universe, conspires to mankind’s good, teaching, succoring, and saving.

Patrick could speak convincingly of these things. He could assure you that all suffering, however dull and desperate, would come to its conclusion and would show itself to have been worthwhile. He could insist that, in the end, you too would hear the words “Your hungers are rewarded:  you are going home. Look, your ship is ready.”  He could speak believably of the superabundance of a God who in response to humble prayer feeds his lost and wandering people with heavenly manna—and a crew of lost and starving sailors with the herd of very earthly pigs.” (How the Irish Saved Civilization p. 131)


“The key to Patrick’s confidence—and it is the sort of ringing, rock-solid confidence on which a civilization may be built, an unmuffled confidence not heard since the Golden Ages of Greece and Rome—is in his reliance on “the Creator of Creation,” the phrase with which the “Breastplate” opens and closes.  Our Father in heaven, having created all things, even things that have since become bent or gone bad, will deliver us, his children, from all evil.  But our Father is not only in faraway heaven, but lives among us.  For he created everything by his Word, which was with him in the beginning, which became flesh in the human Jesus, and flames out in all his creatures:

I see his blood upon the rose

And in the stars the glory of his eyes,

His body gleams amid eternal snows,

His tears fall from the skies.

I see his face in every flower;

The thunder and the singing of the birds

Are but his voice—and carven by his power

Rocks are his written words.

All pathways by his feet are worn,

His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,

His  crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,

His cross is every tree.

This magical world, though full of adventure and surprise, is no longer full of dread. Rather, Christ has trodden all pathways before us, and at every crossroads and by every tree the Word of God speaks out. We have only to be quiet and listen, as Patrick learned to do during the silence of his “novitiate” as a shepherd on the slopes of Sliabh Mis.” (How the Irish Saved Civilization p. 132-133)