The Sacred Sandwich
  • Bohemian Baptist

  • April14th

    10 Comments

    Sweatin’ to the Olneys

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    The other day, as I embarked on a new treadmill exercise regimen, I decided to take advantage of an Internet service called Pandora that claims to provide streaming music based on my musical preferences. My idea was to ask Pandora to play classic rock songs with driving drum beats that could act as a metronome to my walking pace and give me that extra incentive to push through the monotony of a treadmill workout. It’s the same principle used on slave ships in old Hollywood movies where the menacing shirtless guy pounds on a kettle drum to give the galley slaves a rhythmic beat to coordinate the rowing of those giant oars.

    Interesting how exercise and slave labor can have so much in common, don’t you think?

    The problem with using a music service like Pandora, however, is that I couldn’t control the pace of the songs it selected for me. The first few rock songs it played did not provide a musical rhythm that matched my stride, and it threw my body off-balance. It wasn’t until the fourth song that I finally heard a perfect beat to coincide with my steps.

    As the song started its instrumental introduction, I thought, YES! Now we’re talking! Fast drum beat… catchy guitar riff… NOW I can work up a good sweat!

    Then the lead singer began screaming out the lyrics and I realized I was going to hell…

    Read More | Comments

  • September10th

    19 Comments

    God Bless Those Baptist Sea-Monkeys

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    From an earlier report by our wayfaring reporter:

    Recently I heard on the radio that a local Christian church was going to be hosting a community-wide “Blessing of the Animals Ecumenical Service” at a nearby park this month. My first thought upon hearing the announcement was that the church was having a barbeque and would be asking a blessing on the meat, but then I realized that I totally misunderstood what this whole “blessing of the animals” was about. Apparently they were talking about blessing live, uncooked animals. Go figure.

    In case you aren’t aware of this “animal blessing” phenomenon, let me tell you what I know. Evidently there is a growing trend within some corners of Christianity to offer some sort of yearly nondenominational prayer service where all pet owners can bring their beloved animals (or even their favorite stuffed animals, believe it or not) to be ritualistically blessed by God. From what I have gathered, it is a religious ceremony that was first made famous at Manhattan’s Episcopal Cathedral of St. John the Divine, as part of their annual celebration that honors St. Francis, the patron saint of animals and the environment.

    Based on a 2003 account of the yearly gathering at St. John the Divine, here is essentially what takes place: animal lovers bring their pets to the main altar of the church in a grand procession, whereupon the attending Bishop gives homage to “Brother Wolf, Sister Whale, Sister Loon” and other sundry creatures, and then recites a benediction for the animals that says, “Live without fear. Your Creator loves you, made you holy and has always protected you. Go in peace to follow the good road and may God’s blessing be with you always. Amen.” Afterwards a throng of clergy go forth and individually bless each animal by laying on hands or sprinkling them with holy water, which could be quite tricky if you were dealing with some kid’s pet tarantula.

    Of course, when I first heard some of the details about these animal blessing ceremonies, I had three immediate questions:

    • Does God bless ugly animals, too, or just the cute, fuzzy ones?
    • Has anyone ever brought sea-monkeys to these services?
    • How did the Bishop know my sister was a loon?

    The thing that raised my curiosity the most, however, was the fact that these events are billed as “ecumenical.” Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that the animal kingdom has never had to deal with denominational divisions. And even if there are animals of differing faiths, I have to wonder if they even have the ability to adopt an ecumenical spirit with each other. I mean, would a falcon really be able to maintain the proper level of ecumenism with a plump rabbit sitting next to him? Could Precious the cat look past her inherent doctrinal differences with Buster the hamster?

    I would think that an ecumenical spirit would be very difficult to maintain, even between animals of a similar type. For example, take a lion and a housecat, and then look at the possibility of these two feline cousins meeting at an ecumenical service. In some sense you could say that these two cats are so closely related that they are the zoological equivalent of a Catholic and an Anglican. Still, I can’t help but think that the lion would promptly eat the tabby before the invocation was even given. This is not to imply, of course, that a Catholic has ever eaten an Anglican during an ecumenical service, but then again Anglicans are an acquired taste.

    The point I’m trying to make is this: I’ve watched enough Animal Planet on cable television to know that animals aren’t exactly the most well-mannered and virtuous beings around. It’s kind of hard for animals to develop a proper biblical worldview or godly disposition when they’re spending all their time eating each other. I would imagine that even animals of likeminded faith would have difficulty getting together for Bible study. In fact, I can hear their group leader now: “Turn your Bibles to 1st Thessa… Alright, Phil, did you just put Ted in your mouth? Spit him out right now!”

    I realize that this imaginary scenario sounds pretty ridiculous, but then again, this is exactly what happens when these animal blessing ceremonies try to cast animals in the image of man by holding them up as our spiritual brothers and sisters.

    I ask you, why do people today insist on ascribing human characteristics to animals? Proof of this phenomenon can be found in the publication of several best-selling calendars that contain photographs of dogs in dresses. Do dogs like to wear dresses? Perhaps they do if the dresses are made out of bacon; but generally speaking, dogs abhor fashion. If you’ve ever seen the “just kill me now” expression on Paris Hilton’s Chihuahua when she dresses the poor dog in French couture, then you know what I’m talking about.

    Which leads me back to my main concern with these animal blessing ceremonies: Despite their good intentions, they seem to promote the false idea that animals have equal standing with mankind in the eyes of God. Essentially, they are proclaiming an unbiblical concept whose foundation is largely built on evolutionary theory, an underlying disdain for man, and a fanciful notion that our pets will one day go to heaven. As fond as I am of my own pets, however, I can find no biblical warrant to support the position that animals are holy creatures with eternal souls that are in need of God’s extra-biblical blessing through religious pomp and ceremony.

    The Bible plainly states that men, not animals, are made in God’s image to rule over His creation (Genesis 1:26). In addition, Jesus made it quite clear that while God does not forget to care for the sparrows, a man is still of much greater value than a whole flock of birds (Matthew 10:31).

    Look, I don’t mind if Christians feel a need to thank God for his creation and the creatures over which He gave us stewardship and dominion, but must we denigrate God’s redemptive plan by lowering the status of man to that of an animal? After all, it is redeemed men, not animals, who will one day be fellow heirs with Christ, partake in the divine nature, and worship Him through all eternity (Romans 8:17; 2 Peter 1:3). To somehow intertwine animals into that equation and speculate that they are equally worthy of redemption is to start down that slippery slope towards a belief in universal salvation. In other words, if Butch the pit bull, who just mauled the mailman, can go to heaven, then what’s stopping your unsaved relatives, who never bit anyone, from getting there, too?

    Furthermore, I fear that by constantly seeking God’s special blessing upon earthly interests like our job, our house, or our pets, that we are in some way ignoring or discounting the greatest blessing God has ever given us… Jesus Christ. Perhaps we would be better served to place our primary focus on the blessing of Christ in order to bring about the blessings due to the rest of His creation. Maybe we need to make sure that the blessing of the Gospel is spread first and foremost before we promote ecumenical activities that appear to be more grounded in Christ-less worldliness and self-interest.

    As an aside, let me add that I once owned an Old English Sheepdog named Truman, who passed away some years ago, and I dearly miss him. And though I certainly do not equate his company on the same level as my relationship with those of my fellow man, I will always remember Truman as a good dog: very devoted, humble, and faithful in his service to me. I truly believe that God blessed me with his existence, even though he was just an animal. Perhaps it can be said that the Lord, in His unfathomable wisdom, gave me this sheepdog to be another example of how to be a genuine servant. Jesus certainly made such a connection to the Canaanite woman when he likened true humility to a dog begging for scraps from his Master’s table (Matthew 15).

    Bottom line: the Bible tells us that God gave us animals as a blessing to man. He created these creatures to serve us, and to fulfill many God-ordained uses including food, clothing and religious sacrifice, which most of these animal blessing ceremonies seem to conveniently ignore or even denounce.

    God bless the animals? Certainly. But let’s not fall into the trap of promoting an unbiblical mythology or sentimentality that gives every pet the same position as those people redeemed by the blood of Christ.

    Unless, of course, you can prove your sea-monkeys are Baptist.

  • June30th

    10 Comments

    Firecrackers & God’s Word

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    Originally published July 1st, 2005:

    Last week, as the public sale of fireworks gained momentum in anticipation of Independence Day, the news reported that an unidentified group of teenage boys in Oklahoma had killed a litter of puppies by stuffing their mouths with fireworks and setting them off. The mother of the puppies had survived the ordeal by running from the boys’ attack, but later she was found, dazed and confused, standing over her lifeless pups and trying to nudge them awake with her nose. A very sad scene, indeed.

    To me, this kind of disgusting and mindless behavior only solidifies my opinion that the general public’s current use of fireworks on the Fourth of July no longer has any real significance as a heartfelt celebration of our American liberty, but has become an excuse by many people to revel in obnoxious and violent behavior. The proud feelings of patriotism that fireworks once fostered have been relegated to a vulgar form of amusement and empty ritual. We have been seduced over time by the flash and sparkle of the pyrotechnics, and are no longer moved by the history and symbolism that once impacted our young nation, fresh from her struggles for freedom.

    Sadly, I see a parallel between this activity and the way many American evangelicals today approach the Bible. Just as July fireworks have been stripped of their original purpose and significance, the Bible is no longer revered and honored as the very revelation of God Himself, but has become nothing more than an empty icon of the Christian faith to use for selfish purposes. Churches today have fashioned God’s word into a “how-to” book to help their congregation satisfy their felt needs, bring them worldly success, or make them feel good about themselves. The weightier, humbling doctrines of God’s wrath, sin and repentance that provides the pivotal framework for the true Gospel has been replaced in favor of a more feel-good, self-centered approach to utilizing Scripture. In essence, God’s Truth has become a vessel for “common” use, just as fireworks have become outlets of rage for teenage boys and immature adults.

    The true patriot, however, sees fireworks, not as destructive toys, but as a symbol that celebrates our historic path of independence through the life-and-death battles of our forefathers. Likewise, true Christians must be diligent in protecting the sanctity of the Bible as God’s holy word. The Bible was not given to us as a tool for self-justification or self-improvement; it was given to us to reveal the attributes of a holy sovereign God, the sin of natural man, and the amazing grace and love of God in sending His Son to atone for the sins of His sheep in order that we might have life, and that more abundantly.

    Let us not allow our society’s growing obsession with amusement and self-determination to undermine the true purpose of God’s word to humble us and bring us into submission to God’s will.

  • June9th

    12 Comments

    I Don’t Believe a Non-Believer Can Believe in a Non-Belief System

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    balloonbaptistAt a community college graduation ceremony I attended in May, I was taken aback by a piece of advice that the commencement speaker gave to the graduates near the end of his speech. He declared with all sincerity, “When you lay in bed at night, don’t forget to thank God, or your higher power, or your non-belief system for all the blessings in your life.”

    Yes, boys and girls, welcome to the new age of enlightenment where even atheists cannot be excluded from saying bedtime prayers to their “non-belief system.”

    In fairness it should be noted that this particular commencement speaker was the director of a non-profit human rights organization that promotes inclusion and diversity, and thus he has developed an expanded consciousness that makes him much more sensitive to all points of view. That’s why he could make such a profoundly idiotic statement like, “Thank your non-belief system for your life’s blessings,” and make it sound so culturally relevant and globally responsible. Wasn’t that nice of him?

    Frankly, I had no idea it was remotely possible for atheists to create their own deity named “Non-Belief System” and place it alongside the world’s other popular gods like Buddha, Krishna, and Barack Obama. Does this mean I have to say, “Non-Belief System bless you!” every time an atheist sneezes? Will we soon be seeing “Smile! Non-Belief System Loves You!” bumper stickers on cars? All I can say is, Non-Belief System forbid!

    I’m sure there must have been a few bright-eyed atheists among the graduating class who were initially charmed by the commencement speaker’s feel-good advice, but then when they tried to put that advice into practice, they became as horrified as Isaac Watts at a Dove Awards ceremony. I can hear their train of thought now: “Thank you, Non-Belief System, for blessing me with… hey, wait a minute! What am I DOING?! If I give thanks to an entity outside myself, then I’m creating belief in another power, which is like God, and I don’t believe in God, so who am I really thanking? Hoo, boy, I almost slipped into theism there. That was a close one!”

    Good grief, even an atheist with a two-year degree could smell the potential hypocrisy a mile away.

    The sad thing is, the commencement speaker was on the right track before he got stuck in the tar pit of political correctness. Indeed, we need to remember to thank God for all the blessings in our lives, and thank Him alone for things like our health, our family and friends, or even the amazing ShamWow—if that’s what floats your boat. Why? Because God is the only true source of our blessings. These blessings don’t come from luck or science, and they certainly don’t come from something as impotent and self-serving as a “Non-Belief System.”

    The refusal to acknowledge this truth is a dangerous thing. The Bible makes it very clear that people who feel inclined to deny the reality of God in their lives are “without excuse” because God is “clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made.” The Apostle Paul then tells us that these people deep down know God exists, but they refuse to honor Him or give Him thanks as God. Eventually, under the weight of God’s wrath, they become futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts are darkened (Romans 1:21).

    So come on, graduates, don’t be afraid to give credit where credit is due! If a friend gives you a gift, you don’t say “thank you” to good fortune; you direct your gratitude to your friend, the giver. This is how you properly honor the one who gave you the gift. Therefore when you lay in bed at night and feel the desire to express thanks for the blessings in your life, you should feel free to say a prayer to the true God who bestowed those blessings on you and see if it doesn’t inject actual power and purpose into your sense of gratitude and tap into a deep reservoir of thankfulness you never realized you had. Maybe, just maybe, this humble act of acknowledging the truth about God will reverberate in your heart and eventually bring the realization of your need for Jesus Christ, the Greatest Blessing of all. That certainly is my prayer for everyone.

    I suppose saying such things in these postmodern times would make me a very poor commencement speaker, but I don’t really care. At least God will get all the glory, instead of some non-belief system that never did anything for anybody. Bottom line, we need to be praying more like this:

    O my God,
    Thou fairest, greatest, first of all objects,
    my heart admires, adores, loves thee,
    for my little vessel is as full as it can be,
    and I would pour out all that fullness before thee in ceaseless flow.
    When I think upon and converse with thee
    ten thousand delightful thoughts spring up,
    ten thousand sources of pleasure are unsealed,
    ten thousand refreshing joys spread over my heart,
    crowding into every moment of happiness.
    I bless thee for the soul thou hast created,
    for adorning it, sanctifying it,
    though it is fixed in barren soil;
    for the body thou hast given me,
    for preserving its strength and vigour,
    for providing senses to enjoy delights,
    for the ease and freedom of my limbs,
    for hands, eyes, ears that do thy bidding;
    for thy royal bounty providing my daily support,
    for a full table and overflowing cup,
    for appetite, taste, sweetness,
    for social joys of relatives and friends,
    for ability to serve others,
    for a heart that feels sorrows and necessities,
    for a mind to care for my fellow-men,
    for opportunities of spreading happiness around,
    for loved ones in the joys of heaven,
    for my own expectation of seeing thee clearly.
    I love thee above the powers of language to express,
    for what thou art to thy creatures.
    Increase my love, O my God, through time and eternity.

    (from Valley of Vision)

    Now THAT’S what I call giving thanks!

  • April13th

    15 Comments

    Excerpts from The Diary of “Dave” Brainerd

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    With Sincere Apologies to, and Admiration for, Jonathan Edwards and David Brainerd whose lives are historic examples of devout service unfettered by the world’s influence for the sake of God’s Kingdom.

    Dear Readers: By what can only be described as the Providence of God, I was lately bequeathed the dented, noisy remnants of a Dell laptop computer which contains the electronic diary of one Dave Brainerd, a Christian missionary to the natives of Central Michigan, who recently succumbed to a deadly virus which shortened his brief life and ministry at the tender age of thirty-two.

    According to those who witnessed his final hours, Brainerd had been driving to a new Starbucks to pick up his morning Double Espresso when his Garmin GPS became infected by a rogue Trojan virus and guided Brainerd several miles deep into the Michigan wilderness.

    By the time Brainerd realized he was lost, it was too late. Suffering from severe caffeine withdrawal and barely alive, he stumbled into a greasy-spoon diner outside Lansing where a waitress with three months of practical nurse training carried him to a booth and tried to revive him with bargain brand java. The mere sight of the stained Bunn decanter filled with vile brown sludge only aggravated the situation and Brainerd’s weakened body went into shock.

    Just before slipping into the deadly coma that preceded his passing, Brainerd grabbed a laminated menu and, using a ketchup squeeze bottle, wrote his last request in elegant red cursive letters: “Give my laptop to the Bohemian Baptist so my diary can be published for the benefit of his readers.” Thankfully, the diner was not known for cleaning off their menus and Brainerd’s message survived until the coroner and a busboy arrived to clear the booth for a waiting party of four.

    What can I say, dear reader, but be humbled by the task that has been entrusted to me. I have read Brainerd’s diary many times, in-between playing the “Halo” game on his hard drive, and every time I find myself weeping. His private journal is a tour de force of Christian piety and practice in this uncertain age and serves as a remarkable testimony to the great work of a devoted missionary who, despite his many bouts of melancholy, was striving to lead young heathens to Christ.

    Mindful of our short time on earth, I present but a few excerpts from Mr. Brainerd’s diary to give you a sufficient glimpse of the trials and triumphs of a modern-day evangelist, with the hope that the complete work will soon be published by a major Christian publisher after the receipt of a large cash advance to my account.

    THE BOHEMIAN BAPTIST.

    EXCERPTS FROM THE DIARY OF DAVE BRAINERD.

    August 2. After enjoying much sweetness in prayer, my heart was filled with the prospect of bringing the young heathens of North America to Christ. In anticipation of the Lord employing me thusly, I sought the necessary provisions for evangelistic success: the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the light of God’s Word, and a Facebook and Twitter account. Oh! What heavenly blessings for the advancement of God’s kingdom!

    August 10. After eating a large bowl of Froot Loops for breakfast, I had an affecting sense of my own vileness and cried out to God that He might restore the self-esteem that my teachers at Bill Clinton Middle School instilled in me during my youth. My pleadings brought serenity to my soul that I might yet become an able, psychologically-balanced witness for Christ to the heathens. Watched the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy for the 56th time in preparation for spiritual battle.

    September 7. My ministry begins! Entered heathen territory after many days journey deep into the wilderness of Central Michigan University where the natives call themselves the “Chippewas.” With my Dell laptop in tow, I encountered my first group of campus pagans in the student lounge and was immediately discouraged by the sight of the natives using Macbooks and other demonic tools from Apple. Alas! I have already alienated their homogeneous unit with my PC. Was enabled in the evening to plead to God for deliverance from iPhone envy.

    September 23. Was in great distress, and under a sense of my unworthiness today. Communication with the Chippewas is more difficult than I anticipated. One of the heathens inquired of me: “You gank them threads from your g-rent, dawg?” I have no idea what he said. Must find an interpreter in the morning, Lord willing.

    October 11. God has enabled the furtherance of my work! My solicitation on Craigslist for an interpreter has garnered the attention of an able linguist to help me preach Christ to the Chippewas. Quickly learned that “ganking threads from my g-rent” means I look as if I stole my clothes from my grandfather. Well, excuse me for thinking that the Walmart menswear department sells a quality product for an affordable price. At dusk, I was especially assisted by the Spirit to intercede for the heathen with the smart mouth.

    October 19. By the grace of God, the Chippewas have slowly accepted my presence. To put them at ease, I have taken to drinking coffee and carbonated caffeine beverages while wearing a new wardrobe from Urban Outfitters and carrying a messenger bag with a “Question Authority” button. The heathens now seem more inclined to hear of Christ, though most would rather praise the gods they call Coldplay. Still, I have been personally invited to one of their rituals tonight where they will dance around a large fire and sacrifice a fatted keg, which I understand is a type of indigenous deer that is gutted and drained of its bodily fluid for their primitive religious use. I plan to bring a festive jello salad to the event to show my goodwill.

    October 20. Note to self: last night’s “keg” was not a deer, but a vile concoction created by a Mr. Hamm from the land of sky blue waters. My interpreter hath forsaken me, having loved this present brew. Even worse, I fear the Tupperware container I used to bring the jello salad will not be returned to me as is customary at civilized potlucks. The savages!

    November 4. The loss of my interpreter has hampered my work. Received a text message from one of the campus atheists I befriended which read, “GDNEYSC.” Believing this to be an abbreviation for the phrase, “God does not exist, you stupid Christian,” I engaged in a three-hour text debate with him on the evidence for the Creator. Found out later the atheist had been accidentally sitting on his cell phone and I had been arguing with his rear end. Have resisted the temptation to insert joke here.

    November 18. Was sensible of my barrenness and decays in finding common ground with the heathen in order to share the things of God. Visited a tattoo parlor to obtain body art for the purpose of bonding with the Chippewas. Perhaps a quaint shamrock or tiny unicorn. Woefully, I underestimated the seducing influence of my fleshly desire to look cool. While laying on the table to receive a sweet Virgin Mary tattoo on my chest, I suddenly remembered I was a Protestant with a low threshold for pain. I fled in haste. Lord, grant that my fear of needles does not impede the spread of the Gospel!

    December 21. My soul longed for mortification of indwelling desire for Taco Bell, an abominable staple of the young Chippewas that beckons the mouth, but greatly burdens my intestinal fortitude. I also believe I may have become addicted to a pagan power drink they call Mountain Dew Code Red. Cursed carbonation and pintos ‘n’ cheese! I am so disordered in body by my attempts to mirror the heathen’s cultural identity, that I have only the strength for the confinement of my bed where I will attempt much fasting, prayer, and the intermittent viewing of the Hogan’s Heroes marathon on TV Land. That Sargeant Schultz is a hoot.

    January 12. Disgusted with my declining health and inability to connect with the heathen, I spent the morning in a campus lounge reading my Bible with no desire to interact with anyone. Despite my lack of postmodern accoutrements, a young woman who had seen me on campus talking of Christ sat down to talk. Burdened by the emptiness and despair in her life, she asked me if my faith had the balm for her overwhelming sense of guilt. Then did the heavens seem to open above us! Providentially, I was enabled to speak to her about the Gospel message in a plain, easy, and familiar manner. The word of God at this time seemed to fall upon her with a divine power and influence, and there was both a sweet melting and bitter mourning in her countenance. She seemed newly-awakened by my simple plea to repent and draw closer to Christ for her salvation. When we ended our visit, she agreed to go to church with me on Sunday. Oh! What tender mercies God has displayed in this scene!

    For the first time I realize that it is the Gospel that mediates the Spirit’s power of conversion and not the hay and stubble of my worldly wisdom and evangelistic techniques. Surely my presence as an humble advocate and representative for Christ is an important conduit, but it is the Lord Who performs the marvelous work and wonder, despite my weakness and pretense. Tomorrow I will cancel my tongue piercing appointment and subscription to Rolling Stone. Praise be to God!

    January 20. Discovered a brightly-lit corner of the Internet this morning: The Sacred Sandwich! Their wayfaring correspondent, the Bohemian Baptist, is a theological wunderkind, scholar, and exemplary human being! I also marvel at his great humility. It was immediately put into my mind that I should write him and see if he can help me with the caffeine sickness I acquired from the heathens. Perhaps I will do so after I visit the new Starbucks in town, if I can find my way there. Alas, my new GPS seems to be acting up.

    Oh, well! A little adversity never killed anyone.

  • February19th

    8 Comments

    Notes from Abroad: February 2009

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    (Disclaimer: My editor, Durwood Cumbey, insisted that I title this piece, Notes from Abroad. Please note, however, that I am, in fact, a DUDE. I hope this clears up any confusion that the title may have caused.)

    I just flew in from Gaza, and boy, are my arms tired

    I traveled to Gaza last week on assignment after my editor heard last December that Hamas, the extremist Palestinian group that governs there, had officially legalized crucifixion as a punishment against all enemies of Islam. I’m assuming, of course, that this was Hamas’ subtle warning to Christians to keep their nose out of their business, especially since being nailed to a cross has a fair amount of significance in our faith’s history. My editor, Durwood, thought I should go to Gaza and put together a report on this latest evidence of Christian persecution, but quite frankly I had to wonder if Durwood had it out for me. He even gave me Gospel tracts to pass out when I got there.

    Thankfully, due to budgetary constraints, The Sacred Sandwich made travel arrangements through Big Al’s Discount Travelrama and I ended up in Northwest Iowa by mistake. Apparently there is more than one Gaza in the world, and I am happy to report that the small town of Gaza, Iowa, has no intention of crucifying Christians, Jews, or anyone else for that matter. Like their namesake in the Middle East, however, Gaza in Iowa does need to hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Funny how wherever you go in the world, this is the case.

    As Christians we need to remember that the only lasting solution to all these problems of hate and sin in the world is the Good News of Jesus Christ. And that goes for the unsaved souls in the Gaza Strip and in Israel, as well as those in Gaza, Iowa. The only difference is, it’s a little bit easier to pass out tracts in Iowa—at least for now.

    Looking for good Christian entertainment

    Last week, I noticed that the movie “W.” came out on DVD. Being a big CCM fan, I immediately ran over to Blockbuster to rent it, but was a little disappointed to find out that it was NOT a Michael W. Smith biopic. Don’t be misled by the confusing title, folks. Apparently it’s all about George W. Bush. It’s a shame, too, because I was really looking forward to finding out how in the world Smith’s song, “Love Me Good,” became the bestselling Christian record of 1998. Here is just a sample of the lyrics that probably turned Charles Wesley’s grave into a speed rotisserie:

    Sometimes I feel like this world
    Is just one big, gigantic merry-go round
    You gotta hold on tight
    Or you get hurled thru the air
    Yea, life is a 3 ring circus
    With clowns and freaks and camels and such
    And you never know when you might be attacked by the bears

    “Attacked by the bears?” No offense, Michael W. Smith: You’ve produced a fair amount of  good quality Christian music, but what does the circus have to do with Christianity today? Uh, never mind. Now that I think about it, I already know the answer.

    I think they call it Cafeteria Catholicism

    In other news, House Speaker and self-professed “ardent Catholic” Nancy Pelosi met with the Pope this week. According to Vatican sources, Pope Benedict gave Ms. Pelosi (an abortion rights advocate) a short lecture on how a Catholic should always defend the sanctity of life from conception to natural death. You would think that getting scolded by her representative of Christ on earth would set Ms. Pelosi straight, but I doubt it. The conversation probably went something like this:

    Pope: Nancy, what exactly is your deal about protecting abortion? Aren’t you worried about purgatory?
    Nancy: Nothing that a little penance, and an indulgence or two won’t take care of.
    Pope: I mean it, Nancy. You gotta start acting more Catholic or else.
    Nancy: Yeah, whatever. Hey, you wanna see some pictures of my grandkids?
    Pope: Awww… what a bunch of cutie-pies!

    Yeah, I’m thinking Nancy won’t be leading the charge to ban abortion anytime soon. But I can still pray that she does.

    Is there some dope in the pulpit?

    Finally, this steroid doping scandal in Major League Baseball with players like Barry Bonds and A-Rod has got me thinking that maybe some preachers out there need to be tested, too. Over the last year, I’ve noticed a few “seeker-sensitive” pastors acting a little angry when believers in their congregation demand to be fed by their shepherds, as if that’s part of a pastor’s biblical duties or something.

    Then, just recently, I heard Gary Lamb of Revolution Church say that one of his biggest regrets in life was that he didn’t clock some irritating church lady in the head with a baseball bat, punch her husband in the face, and set the church organ on fire. Lamb’s violent compulsions reminded me of Todd Bentley when he was smacking worshippers around during the Lakeland Revival last year.

    Frankly, these examples of ill-tempered behavior sound exactly like what they call “Roid Rage,” a side effect of steroid use. I think maybe we should implement urine testing for pastors just in case it’s something more than stunted adolescent development or bad theology.

    Whoops. I probably just scared the stuffing out of some of those hip and relevant postmodern Christians with the words, “urine testing.” Sorry about that, guys. Didn’t mean to harsh your buzz.

  • December17th

    12 Comments

    Look Out, John 3:16! Second Kings 11:2 Is Gaining On You

    Posted in: Bohemian Baptist

    As another year winds down, I think it is safe to say that John 3:16 has retained its title as the #1 most-quoted Bible verse in all of Christendom. Indeed, it has been a solid little performer as a pithy Christian catchphrase for a long, long time. I understand that archaeologists recently dug up an ancient chariot from the reign of Constantine that had “John 3:16″ on the rear bumper, right next to a “Smile, God loves you!” sticker and a parking permit for the Billy Graham Crusade.

    I have to wonder, however, if John 3:16 is getting a little long in the tooth as the top Bible reference of Christianity. Is it possible that the public’s familiarity with this classic verse has caused it to blend into the surrounding landscape of mundane trivia? Perhaps it is time to replace it with a lesser-known reference that might actually force people to open a Bible if they want to know what the verse says. I mean, think about it. Even major corporations change their commercial slogans once in a while to keep their image fresh and noteworthy.

    As a matter of fact, just last month I was thinking about the McDonald’s “I’m Lovin’ It!” slogan after I ate a Big Mac and ended up sick to my stomach. I hate to admit it, but those PR folks at McDonald’s are a very savvy group. Even while suffering the classic symptoms of food poisoning, I couldn’t be mad at them. “Honey,” my wife would say, “how are you doing with the nausea and cramping?” To which I would reply, “I’m lovin’ it!”

    Needless to say, the McDonald’s slogan doesn’t work for me anymore.

    Don’t get me wrong; I’m a big fan of John 3:16. But it isn’t the only great Bible verse out there. For instance, one of my first big crushes was on Acts 13:48. A few years later, I was waffling between a special fondness for 2 Timothy 3:16 and Ephesians 2:8. Then I had some friends who turned me on to Romans 1:16 and John 14:6. Fact is, there are too many verses to choose from. If I didn’t know better, I might think that God wanted us to consider every verse in the Bible with equal awe and reverence.

    Lately, however, I’ve zeroed in on a new favorite Bible verse to rival good ol’ John 3:16. It’s Second Kings 11:2. Yeah, that’s right: Second Kings. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It comes right after First Kings in the Old Testament. For those poor undisciplined Christians who have failed to memorize this pivotal verse, here it is with the preceding verse thrown in for context:

    “1) When Athaliah the mother of Ahaziah saw that her son was dead, she rose and destroyed all the royal offspring. 2) But Jehosheba, the daughter of King Joram, sister of Ahaziah, took Joash the son of Ahaziah and stole him from among the king’s sons who were being put to death, and placed him and his nurse in the bedroom. So they hid him from Athaliah, and he was not put to death.”

    A bold choice, you say? Well, that’s how I roll. Indeed, this passage involves some heavy theological lifting that leaves most other verses wanting. Not only will you get major tongue strain when you try to pronounce the long string of challenging names, but there is some serious family drama going on here that would make the Sopranos cringe with discomfort. Eat your hearts out, John 3:16 fans. My new favorite verse is riveting stuff.

    According to this passage, “Grandma” Athaliah wasn’t the kind of matriarch to knit scarves or bake apple pies during her golden years. No, she was a little more, shall we say, ambitious. When she found out her son, King Ahaziah of Judah, was dead, she decided that the only way to preserve her newfound power in the kingdom was to make sure all the king’s heirs—her own grandchildren—were snuffed out. So she massacred them! The only problem was, little Joash was secretly hidden away by his Aunt Jehosheba and escaped the fate of his siblings. Nice family, huh?

    So why is this Bible verse my new favorite? Probably because it proves the point that we shouldn’t put so much emphasis on “popular” verses like John 3:16. The fact is, Second Kings 11:2 will never make it on any Christian’s list of top 100 favorite Bible verses. It is an obscure, little-known verse hidden in the historical narrative of the Old Testament that seems to say absolutely nothing about our theology. And yet, this verse is just as important and profound as John 3:16 in revealing the great overriding truth that is woven throughout every verse, chapter, and glorious page of the Holy Scriptures:

    God is sovereign and His word will not return void.

    All the way back in the Garden, after Adam and Eve had fallen into sin, God made the gospel promise that one day the seed of the woman would bruise the head of that usurping serpent, the Devil. This promised Messiah was spoken of again and again throughout the history of Israel by their many prophets until the day when Jesus Christ finally appeared to fulfill those prophecies in exact detail. And God orchestrated it all to perfection.

    You see, if little Joash had been killed by his grandmother, then the messianic line would have been severed and the prophesied shoot from Jesse’s stump, the Branch of David, would have been cut off and destroyed. Yet by the might and grace of our Lord God, the helpless Joash was preserved under the bleakest of circumstances… just as Noah was miraculously preserved from the flood, just as David was preserved from his murderous enemies, and just as young Jesus was preserved from the hands of the godless King Herod.

    Honestly, if you look carefully at this situation with Joash, you will be hard-pressed to explain how the boy could have survived it, except by the protective Hand of God. How else could Grandma Athaliah have been so blind to the fact that Joash was missing from among her slain grandchildren? Does Athaliah’s inexplicable oversight not smack of Divine Providence?

    As a close friend of mine noted concerning this story of Joash’s survival, the history of the world has been filled with dynasty after dynasty that suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth because a royal heir was killed in youth or was never born to carry on the kingly line. And yet, in the annals of Hebrew history, no such disaster befell the lineage of Christ, despite the constant assaults against it by evil men and the serpent of old.

    What we see in 2 Kings 11, therefore, is another striking display of God’s sovereignty and power as He brings about His amazing plan of salvation and restoration through His Son, Jesus Christ, and the building of His Church. Praise be to Almighty God for His faithfulness!

    As God assures us in Isaiah 55:11:

    So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth;
    It will not return to Me empty,
    Without accomplishing what I desire,
    And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.

    Wow, that Isaiah 55:11 is amazing! I think I’ll make it my new favorite Bible verse… at least until I read the next one and fall in love with it, too.

« Previous Entries
Return to the Homepage