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Foundational to any good homestead is a good clothesline.

My brother-in-law helped me sink these posts today. I’d like to say it was because we wanted to be green, use less electricity and become less dependent on the electric dryer, but the truth is it’s just the easiest way to dry all of those cloth diapers. At least the house will be clear of all those drying racks on sunny days.

The house in the background is the neighbors (i.e. family). I didn’t want to take credit for the fencing and porching work they’ve done. But I did beat them to a clothesline.

N.D. Wilson has done a good thing with his book, “Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl” — he argues for a creator and then he argues that creation is good, a notion lost to many evangelicals today.

At times, Wilson examines the whole of the world from the subatomic level — quarks, leptons and other tiny things that you cannot see but do exist. At other times, he just seems to get caught up in the joy of living in a world over which God pronounced, “It is good.”

But the part I appreciated the most was that he avoided veering into the kind of hard scientific apologetics that evangelicals have gotten very good at doing very badly — ultimately, that’s not his point. The book is both a superb — if unintentional — argument for general revelation, as well as for another idea, that you should enjoy what God has created.

The writing in “Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl” is kind of like being on a tilt-a-whirl, and I’m not sure how many folks it will suit. I liked it; I’m not sure everyone else will. It’s not irreverent, but I suspect some people will think it so; at one point Wilson comments that Jesus transformed water into wine, and later the wine into urine. Should we deny it?, he asks.

N.D. Wilson’s “Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl” is a good — and even fun to read — book. It’s not the most remarkable thing I’ve ever read, but I recommend it to those who like to read books that can be described as both “sound” and “trippy.”

Thomas Nelson Publishers provided a review copy of this book.

Sometimes I wonder if Christians realize that the Bible is more than a book of good advice, that it is the book of the Church and cannot be rightfully separated from her. You hear lots of polemics from conservatives about the Bible being inspired, inerrant, infallible, but then you hear about this:

http://conservapedia.com/Conservative_Bible_Project

Once you separate the Bible from its context as the book of the Church, you get goofy ideological narratives about it. The stated goals of the project start out innocently enough:

0.Framework against Liberal Bias: providing a strong framework that enables a thought-for-thought translation without corruption by liberal bias

0.Not Emasculated: avoiding unisex, “gender inclusive” language, and other modern emasculation of Christianity

0.Not Dumbed Down: not dumbing down the reading level, or diluting the intellectual force and logic of Christianity; the NIV is written at only the 7th grade level[3]

I have no problems with these, depending on how you define “liberal bias,” though gender neutrality doesn’t really bother me and I think translations that are accessible to those who are only barely functionally literate are a good thing.

But then follow the doozies:

0.Utilize Powerful Conservative Terms: using powerful new conservative terms as they develop;[4] defective translations use the word “comrade” three times as often as “volunteer”; similarly, updating words which have a change in meaning, such as “word”, “peace”, and “miracle”.

Using inaccurate “conservative” terms is just as inaccurate as inaccurate “liberal” terms. Besides, there’s already a conservative version that does just that — it’s called the ESV.

Also, I wasn’t aware that the meaning of “miracle” had changed; and what are they going to call Jesus, the Prince of Not-What-You-Think-When-You-Say-Peace?

0.Combat Harmful Addiction: combating addiction by using modern terms for it, such as “gamble” rather than “cast lots”;[5] using modern political terms, such as “register” rather than “enroll” for the census

See my previous comments. I can’t see why include this except for some kind of sneaky political motive that has nothing to do with the Kingdom of God.

0.Accept the Logic of Hell: applying logic with its full force and effect, as in not denying or downplaying the very real existence of Hell or the Devil.

I don’t really know what they mean by “the logic of Hell.”

0.Express Free Market Parables; explaining the numerous economic parables with their full free-market meaning

See my comment earlier about the Bible being a book full of good advice.

I wonder if they realize that the so-called economic parables were not meant to be about economics, but about stewardship. But then again, most parables are actually about salvation. Of course, expressing them in their “full free-market meaning…” sounds suspiciously like what they’re accusing liberals of doing — corrupting the biblical text for political purposes.

Exclude Later-Inserted Liberal Passages: excluding the later-inserted liberal passages that are not authentic, such as the adulteress story

Nevermind that textual criticism is traditionally a liberal field, I wonder how these folks came to the conclusion that they know what is Scripture in opposition to the testimony of the Church throughout the ages. And I’m not sure how the adulteress story is particularly liberal. Grace?

0.Credit Open-Mindedness of Disciples: crediting open-mindedness, often found in youngsters like the eyewitnesses Mark and John, the authors of two of the Gospels

Don’t really know what they mean here. Like at all.

Prefer Conciseness over Liberal Wordiness: preferring conciseness to the liberal style of high word-to-substance ratio; avoid compound negatives and unnecessary ambiguities; prefer concise, consistent use of the word “Lord” rather than “Jehovah” or “Yahweh” or “Lord God.” 

How about preferring accuracy? As literal as possible, as free as necessary? New Bible translations don’t bother me, but this won’t be a scholarly work — it’ll be a mutilation.

I self-identify as “conservative,” but I read about this and am disgusted and angered.

I’ve been listening to an exposition on Fr. Alexander Schmemann’s For the Life of the World, so this thought flows from that context:

One of Christ’s hardest teachings was that anyone who does not eat his flesh and drink his blood will not live. But it makes sense when you consider Christ is the new Adam — with Adam, the command was “eat this fruit and you will die,” but with Christ the command is “eat this and you will live.”

Food kills, and food saves.

This is not a judgment on Holy Tradition, just an observation.

It is inevitable that when discussing tradition, you have to distinguish between what is actually tradition and what people believe is tradition, and even the degrees of tradition. There’s Holy Tradition, and then there’s ecclesiastical tradition, and a lot of times outside observers mistakenly project Rome’s dogmas and definitions onto Orthodoxy.

But it’s important to note that not everyone defines tradition the same way. Tradition in Roman Catholicism is dogmatically defined by the magisterium, while Orthodoxy and the Oriental Orthodox define tradition as “that which has lived on in the life of the church.”

In short, Rome says, “This is tradition because we say it is; we may not have always said it this way, or this strongly, or in this developed a sense, but we maintain it’s tradition of apostolic origin. We just haven’t quite said it this way before, because we didn’t fully understand it in the same sense as we do now.” The eastern churches say, “This is tradition because it is what we have always believed, since the apostles. There’s no need or mechanism (outside an ecumenical council) to define it further.”

(I realize I’m using caricatures, and assuming a doctrinal unity that isn’t always there in either instance. Many Catholics also make the mistake of assuming that they are essentially doctrinally the same as the Orthodox.)

Both give props to an apostolic tradition, but approach it from different directions, or at least one of them takes it two steps further.

And that’s an important distinction to make.

(I think if both are going to make their claims of apostolic tradition, they need to be able to prove them.)

But then there’s ecclesiastical tradition, the non-dogmatic stuff that can still divide.

The Orthodox and Oriental Orthodox could, for the most part, reunite; most of their theologians agree that their disagreement at Ephesus was largely semantic. The problem, however, is the 1,500 years of different ecclesiastical tradition that followed, leading to a few instances where saints the Oriential Orthodox venerate were anathematized by the Orthodox; and as one (secular) commentator put it, people in the east have long, long memories.

These are all terms that need to be defined when having a Protestant-Orthodox discussion.

4 “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one! 5 You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. 6 “And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. 7 You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up. 8 You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. 9 You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. Deuteronomy 6:4-9, NKJV

Lately, we’ve been trying to develop a routine family worship time in the evenings. When I envisioned it, I — perhaps unrealistically — pictured the four of us singing hymns in perfect far-part harmony and having a lovely discussion of Galatians before prayer. So far, it’s been halting and interrupted by evenings away from home, and the actual “service” is just me reading a chapter of Mark aloud, interrupting to explain to Micah what is going on, and asking him a few questions at the end.

And that’s OK. He’s four. The reason for doing this (and ultimately, keeping him in church services even though he is squirmy) is so he will both be used to it and — bit by bit — learn something.

Growing up, we had a family Bible time almost nightly. At times I hated it, and at times I got bored, but family Bible time, probably more than any class I took in the religion department in college, contributed to my biblical literacy. Can I want anything less for my own children, even if they fidget?

Besides, both the Reformed and Orthodox agree: the family is the smallest unit of the Church. Sunday School, after all, was started for the children of unbelievers — the children of believers were expected to be taught at home.

When I can’t think of anything to blog, I pass on links. Here are a few that have tickled my fancy lately:

  • American Orthodox History, my new favorite podcast. Matthew Namee — an independent Orthodox historian — has decided to explore the basically neglected history of Orthodoxy in the new world. (I took Thomas Howell’s otherwise excellent History of Religion in America, and I don’t recall that Orthodoxy was ever discussed, even though it has been here longer than, for example, the Southern Baptists.) Namee is still feeling his way around podcasting, but if you like history, you will enjoy it.
  • Read Uncyclopedia’s entry on Eastern Orthodoxy. You need to know a bit about Orthodoxy and Church history, but if you do it’s hilarious.

I don’t generally like blog posts that are mostly quotes, something I’m guilty of before and will be again. But there are two quotes that have been rattling around my head for the last few weeks, and they help me hold my uneasy place in what some have dubbed the post-evangelical (and in my case, the pre-Orthodox) wilderness.

I couldn’t explain why if you asked.

The first is from St. Basil:

At such a time, then, there is need of great effort and diligence that the Churches may in some way be benefited. It is an advantage that parts hitherto severed should be united. Union would be effected if we were willing to accommodate ourselves to the weaker, where we can do so without injury to souls; since, then, many mouths are open against the Holy Spirit, and many tongues whetted to blasphemy against Him, we implore you, as far as in you lies, to reduce the blasphemers to a small number, and to receive into communion all who do not assert the Holy Spirit to be a creature, that the blasphemers may be left alone, and may either be ashamed and return to the truth, or, if they abide in their error, may cease to have any importance from the smallness of their numbers.

Let us then seek no more than this, but propose to all the brethren, who are willing to join us, the Nicene Creed. If they assent to that, let us further require that the Holy Spirit ought not to be called a creature, nor any of those who say so be received into communion. I do not think that we ought to insist upon anything beyond this. For I am convinced that by longer communication and mutual experience without strife, if anything more requires to be added by way of explanation, the Lord Who works all things together for good for them that love Him, will grant it.

The second, from St. Paul (here in New King James rendering):

Some indeed preach Christ even from envy and strife, and some also from goodwill: The former preach Christ from selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing to add affliction to my chains; but the latter out of love, knowing that I am appointed for the defense of the gospel. What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is preached; and in this I rejoice, yes, and will rejoice.

For two-and-a-half years Susannah and I taught a Wednesday night class at Cornerstone. For two years we had a Sunday class.

Susannah led the teaching for the most part, though I would step in from time to time. Somewhere in the last year, we segued away from teaching lessons (stories) to teaching the scripture memorization literature from Scripture Memory Fellowship.

That all ended this month after a lot of burnout and some other considerations I won’t go into right now.

But due to a scheduling conflict, we were given a bonus week and we decided to play the SMF game “Tic Tac Know,” a kind of combination of Tic-Tac-Toe and Bible trivia. It can actually be a pretty good instructional tool, but some of the questions are pretty esoteric for 8-year-old children.

(Real example — Q: Jesus said the Pharisees are like what? A: Ravening wolves.)

And that is where the fun began.

Susannah was having a hard time finding a card that the students would know, so she finally decided to make one up.

“What do you do to be saved?” she asked.

We were met with blank stares. This was when I knew we were in trouble. Two years teaching, and we get blank stares to, “What do you do to be saved?”

Slowly, one of the students raised his hand.

“Ummmm…Be baptized?”

I was tempted to give him the point for a second; after all, II Peter 3:21 says baptism saves us. But Mark 16:16 says that those who believe and are baptized will be saved, so even if I was going to give him credit, he was still missing half of the equation.

Besides, he was guessing.

Then, another student shot her hand up and blurted out, “You get prayed for, and then you try to not be bad.”

At this point, we were hanging our heads.

No, we said, to be saved you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Oh, they said. Yeah, that.

So, next question, this one directly from the game: what are three proofs of Christ’s bodily resurrection?

Again, silence.

At this point, I would have taken anything, even, “You ask me how I know he lives — he lives within my heart.”

Instead, one student, mulling it over said, “Easter.”

Yes, we said, Easter is when we celebrate that Jesus raised from the dead. But how do we know that he was raised?

“Well,” she said, “I know that he was killed at Christmas.”

The answers only got more creative, including, “Like if his skin was still there (in the tomb), but he wasn’t?”

The hysterical nature of the entire event was only compounded by the fact that Susannah had a little trouble spitting out the question, and ended up asking for three proofs of Christ’s bodily erection, not unlike the time the pastor kept saying that our prayers are a sweet incest to God.

We made it through the rest of the night without any more serious hiccups if you don’t count one very defiant second-grader who refused to obey, but the entire experience was a pretty solid cap on the end of our teaching experience.

We taught these children for two years. Genesis. Exodus. The Gospels. Scores and scores of scripture about salvation, God’s promises and eternal life.

And this was how it ended.

Lord, have mercy.

In Mississippi, there is a ballot petition going around under the name of Personhood Mississippi.

Basically, the voters hope to put it to a referendum and amend the state constitution to define human life as beginning at fertilization and give full legal rights to — I guess — zygotes, embryos and fetuses.

I realize that this is an effort to effectively make abortion illegal in Mississippi, and I believe that induced abortion at any stage is a grave evil.

Something about defining humanity through a ballot initiative, however, rubs me the wrong way.

Maybe it’s because it gives too much power to the god of state. It is no longer, “God says this is life,” but rather, “Mississippi says this is life.”

Then — and this is my real concern — there’s precedent.

If a group of voters can constitutionally define “life” one way, what’s to stop a mobilized group that wants to define it a different way from doing the same thing? At that point, it’s no longer judicial activism legislating evil, but the pure will of the people — 50 percent plus one.

Slippery slope may be considered a logical fallacy, but I happen to believe in it.

EDIT: Apparently, the Diocese of Jackson has released a statement  not endorsing the petition because the bishop thinks it might hinder national efforts to end abortion.

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