The Lᴏʀᴅ sends fire.

1 Kings 18.36-40.

In proposing this contest between the LORD and Baal—which of these gods could set fire to his offering—Elijah wasn’t just putting God’s reputation on the line, but his own. Baal was silent, but if the LORD had been silent too, it wasn’t like the people of Israel would throw up their hands and say, “It’s a draw.” They’d just presume neither Baal nor the LORD thought their contest was worth their divine time, and simply continue with the status quo.

Only problem with the status quo: The LORD’s prophets were getting persecuted and killed. And here’s a prophet of the LORD who suggested his God would make fire, but he didn’t… and hey, didn’t Moses say we’re supposed to kill false prophets?

So yep, Elijah’s life was at stake over this one. Which is why it was only fair when Baal lost the contest, that his prophets should suffer the very same fate they intended to inflict upon Elijah.

Anyway, let’s check out where the LORD came through for Elijah:

1 Kings 18.36-40 KWL

36The time to offer the sacrifice came,

and Elijah the prophet came near.

He said, “YHWH, god of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel,

make it known today:

You’re¹ God in Israel,

and I am your¹ slave,

and I did all these deeds by your¹ word.

37Answer me, YHWH, answer me,

and the people might know you,¹

the god YHWH;

you¹ who make their hearts repent.”

38YHWH’s fire fell.

It consumed the offering,

the wood,

the stones,

the dirt,

and licked up the water in the trench.

39All the people saw,

fell on their faces,

and said, “YHWH, he is God!

YHWH, he is God!”

40Elijah told them, “Seize Baal’s prophets.

Don’t let any of them escape.”

They seized them.

Elijah brought them down to the wadi Qišón.

He slaughtered them there.

Jesus is preparing a place for us. [Jn 14.1-3]

John 14.1-3 KJV

1Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. 2In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

 

Jesus made this statement the night he was betrayed; since Jews figured days began and ended at sunset, this’d also be the day he died. He had just told them he was leaving, and they couldn’t follow; Jn 13.33 Simon Peter protested he’d follow him anywhere, and Jesus told him he wouldn’t last the night. Jn 13.37-38 But the very next verse, he said, “Let not your heart be troubled,” and the rest. He wasn’t leaving them forever; he’d be back. And when he was raptured a month and a half later, he again isn’t leaving us forever; he’ll be back.

What’s he doing in the meanwhile? Well, directing his church. Advocating for us with his Father. 1Jn 2.2 And as he tells the first Christians in this passage, getting our place ready in New Heaven.

Because the KJV translates μοναὶ/moné, “rooms,” as “mansions”—which, in King James English, meant “suite” or “apartment,” not “massive house”—you’ll hear many a Christian claim when we get to New Heaven we’re each getting a big giant house. A big giant house within our Father’s house? Well, they figure, our Father’s house is all of heaven, so yeah.

But the materialistic dream of a big giant house is a fleshly desire; same as a lot of the other Christian myths about what heaven will be like. These same Christians keep talking about receiving a golden crown covered in jewels; a jewel for every person we led to Jesus. Sometimes they say once we get these crowns, we’ll just give ’em back to Jesus, like the 24 elders and their crowns. Rv 4.10 Jesus does talk about giving us crowns, Rv 2.10, 3.11 as do the apostles, 1Co 9.25, 2Ti 4.8, Jm 1.12, 1Pe 5.4 but there’s nothing about ’em being gold; they’re the leafy crowns which represent victory, not monarchy. There’s so much Mammonism in popular depictions of heaven; so much talk about our “heavenly reward” and wealth and luxury. But the actual point of New Heaven is we get to live there with Jesus. He wants the same thing he’s always wanted: For us to be where he is; for him to be our God, and we to be his people. Ex 6.7, Lv 26.12, Jr 7.23, 11.4, 30.22, Ek 36.28

If that’s not what we want as well—if all our hopes and dreams about heaven involve material wealth—good gravy are we so not gonna be ready for it. Or happy there. Might be better off outside it.

Praying about thorns in the flesh.

2 Corinthians 12.6-10.

There’s a popularly misinterpreted paragraph Paul wrote about a person he described as “a thorn in the flesh.” Most of the time when you hear people interpret this passage, they claim it’s about some chronic ailment Paul had. Usually they speculate it’s eye damage from when Jesus blinded him that one time; Ac 9.8-9 as if when Ananias later cured him, Ac 9.17-18 he only cured him partway. But nope; Paul was writing about a really annoying person. Someone who was trying to derail his ministry.

2 Corinthians 12.6-10 KWL

6For whenever I want to be proud,

I won’t be a fool,

for I’ll speak truth.

I desist lest anyone considers me greater than I am,

who sees or hears {something} of me

7and the amazing revelations.

This is why, lest I get conceited,

a “thorn in the flesh” was given me—

Satan’s angel, who might punch me

lest I get conceited.

8Thrice I begged the Master about it,

so it might leave me.

9And the Master told me,

“My grace should satisfy you,

for {my} power is perfected by weakness.”

So I will gladly be more proud of my weaknesses,

so Christ’s power might abide in me.

10So I’m pleased with weakness for Christ—

in hubris, compulsions, persecutions, difficulties.

For whenever I am weak,

then I am strong.

I mean, I get why people presume this is a sickness; ἀσθένεια/asthéneia tends to be translated “sickness, disease, ailment, illness.” Properly it’s anything which affects your strength, but usually that’s disease. And a thorn in the flesh does sound like a chronic disease; like arthritis, a bad back, or poor vision 12 centuries before eyeglasses were invented.

But consider the context of this passage. Paul had just been talking about all the persecution he underwent because he preached the gospel. 2Co 11.23-27 Some of those things were physical ailments—because he got flogged, caned, stoned, shipwrecked and forced to swim for it, hungry, thirsty, cold, or weary. Physical hardship comes with the job.

So in this text, the “thorn in the flesh” describes a person or people who “gets under our skin”—yep, exactly like a thorn—and just bugs us. Often maliciously, but sometimes not. I’ve had coworkers who were really annoying people; they weren’t trying to be, but they simply didn’t think about anyone but themselves, and naturally this unrelenting selfishness made them an irritant. Lots of people are self-centered like that. I’m betting you can immediately think of at least one.

Sometimes they’re trying to be malicious. They wanna get in our way, wanna see our downfall. Not necessarily political opponents, although that’d be the first thing most people think of nowadays. Sometimes religious opponents—people who have their own inadequate or false religious practices, who don’t want you preaching the true gospel. Or people who would rather they preach the gospel than you; they’re jealous.

Now to be fair, sometimes they don’t want it to be you because you’re a jerk; you lack the maturity to fulfill your anointing, and need to stay back from leadership till you’re properly ready. Paul definitely had that problem when he first became Christian; both the Damascenes and Jerusalemites wanted to kill him because of the bold, argumentative way he preached. Ac 9.23, 9.29 It’s why the Twelve sent him back to Tarsus. Ac 9.30 Those are problems of our own making, but it’s fair to say by the time Paul and Timothy wrote 2 Corinthians, they were more mature than that.

In Paul’s day, when freedom of religion was barely a thing, such people who might even want to see us dead, and even think they’re doing this for God. And as Jesus said, no they don’t know God. Jn 16.2 They only imagine they do, but they’ve been following their own fleshly desires for a good long time, and have ’em completely confused with God’s will.

The repentant taxmen and soldiers.

Luke 3.12-14.

The gospel of Matthew doesn’t tell us about the crowd of repentant Israelis asking John the baptist what they now should do. Doesn’t have him tell people to share their extra tunics. Doesn’t have him say this part either, when repentant taxmen and soldiers ask him how they’re now to live.

Luke 3.12-14 KWL

12Taxmen are also coming to be baptized,

and tell Johnᴾ, “Teacher, what might we do?”

13John is telling them,

“Do nothing more than your² orders.”

14Soldiers are also questioning Johnᴾ,

saying, “And we? What might we do?”

John is telling them, “Shake no one down,

nor extort silver from anyone.

Be content with your² salary.”

The gospels say the crowd had come to John to repent, but in the Jesus movies, they’re doing no such thing. They’re sitting on the riverside, watching other people come to John. Meanwhile they stand back and watch, grumbling, all judgey. In the gospels when John addresses the Pharisees and Sadducees, he’s speaking to the religious folks who are coming out into the water to receive his baptism. Not skeptics on the shore; that’s in John. In the synoptics, the Pharisees and Sadducees received his message—and John’s challenging them to actually live lifestyles of repentance.

Hence the question, “What might we do?” Now that we’re following God, how ought we live? And John went right for the most obvious deficiency in their lifestyle and character. He went right for the throat of Mammon.

Yep, Mammon. Money’s always been a rival with God for our affections. Was in Moses’s day, was in John’s, is in ours. So John told the people they oughta share what they had. Told the taxmen they oughta stop charging people more than what the Romans expected. Told the soldiers they oughta stop angling for bribes and extorting evildoers, and be content with what they were paid. These are money temptations. So, y’know, Mammonism.

Most of the time, the first thing we go after when we’re instructing new Christians, is we try to get ’em to come to church, read their bibles, pray regularly—to get in the basic habits of the Christian religion. Which is fine! We should teach all that stuff. But we’re not always that great at reminding them to resist basic temptations. Or if we do, it’s usually Ten Commandments stuff like no theft, no murder, no adultery, no coveting, and no idolatry. We don’t go on a frontal assault against their very biggest idols, and if they’re from the United States, these idols would be their stomachs, their wallets, and their teams—athletic and political.

John, same as his fellow biblical prophets, went good ’n hard against the biggest idol Israel had: Wealth. That’s what they coveted: Enough money to buy off the Romans and make their lives comfortable. That’s what got Israelis to turn their backs on their own people and work as tax-gatherers for the despised Romans. That’s what got people to leave their homelands and join the Roman army and hope to gain Roman citizenship: People got rich doing that, and they wanted some of those riches too.

But our treasure is in God, and if we wanna follow him, we gotta put our wealth under his feet too. And stop doing every morally questionable, evil compromise we can, just to get at that wealth. Be good for once.

“I’m not getting fed.”

In my teenage years I finally began to notice the phenomenon of people leaving my church to go attend another one. Some Christians are nomads like that: They attend a church for a few months, even years, and then switch. They stick around till the novelty wears off. (Others stick around until they’ve burnt too many bridges, but I’m not writing about those people today.) That church got boring, so off they go to find a new one, which won’t be boring… for a few months anyway. Once they’re bored of that one, they’ll once again move on.

But these Christians still live in town, so every once in a while you’re gonna find them at a grocery store, restaurant, park, library, theater, or wherever. And you might have time to catch up, and find out where they’re going to church now; hopefully they’re still going. And they might tell you why they’re not going to your church anymore: They didn’t like the music, or had problems with your church’s doctrines, or grew outraged by your church’s politics, or your youth pastor molested their kids. Issues which range from petty to profound. But most often they’re petty.

A rather common one I kept hearing from ex-attendees was, “I just wasn’t getting fed anymore.”

No, this wasn’t a complaint about how our church didn’t have potlucks regularly enough. By “fed” they mean spiritually fed. Spiritual food is what Christians tend to call our encounters with the Holy Spirit’s wisdom. We expect him to tell us profound things… and we expect him to do this through our church leaders. We expect the sermons to be full of deep, meaningful stuff.

Well, things we consider deep and meaningful. Some of us haven’t a clue about what’s actually deep and meaningful. For a while there I used to think it was historical background about the bible which I didn’t yet know. Plenty of other Christians believe the very same thing, which is why whenever I teach on the bible’s historical background, I get compliments from people who love how “profound” my teachings were. Meh; you can find that stuff in books. The good stuff is when the Holy Spirit uses that raw data to provide us insights about how he works.

And the Spirit can get our preachers to give plenty of profound insights in their sermons. But if we don’t recognize these insights as profound—or if we don’t like these insights, ’cause they rub our flesh the wrong way—we’ll presume there’s something wrong with our church. And leave. And go try to find one which pleases us more.

All that aside, I have a bone to pick with the underlying presumption: Is the point of church to get us “spiritually fed”? Or is it something else?—something more?

Yeah, I won’t leave you in suspense: It’s something more. The point of church is to interact with our fellow Christians. To worship together, and encourage one another to follow Jesus more and better, and discourage one another from slacking. It’s to support one another, and build each other up.

But, same as those people who followed Jesus only because he fed ’em bread, there are Christians who don’t give a rip about fellow Christians and encouraging one another. They want bread. “Spiritual bread,” but bread just the same, and not because it’ll actually make ’em better Jesus-followers, but so they can add to their stash of bible trivia.

Thing is, if you wanna increase your knowledge of bible trivia, you can do that at home. It’s not something we need to do together with fellow Christians. Worship, fellowship, and encouragement is stuff we need to do corporately, in church, as the church. Education?—you can read a book. I learn way more from books than from any lecture series—even the ones I took in seminary.

If the only time we ever get spiritually fed is when we go to church, it means we suck at following Jesus.

Elijah prepares the Lᴏʀᴅ’s altar.

1 Kings 18.30-35.

You already know how this story ends, so I’m not building up any suspense by only discussing the section just before Elijah prays and God sends fire.

In the previous passage, Baal’s prophets were cutting themselves till they got blood all over them, from around noon till the evening sacrifice. Once they were finished unsuccessfully calling upon their god—or maybe they were still trying, but the Israelis grew tired of watching and Elijah was now able to hold their attention—he called them over to himself, to a knocked-down altar of the LORD which happened to be there.

Most translations make it sound like Baal’s prophets did their thing till the time of the evening sacrifice, and only then did Elijah get to work on the altar he’d use. Maybe; then Elijah’s sacrifice would’ve taken place after sundown, while it was kinda dark, which would’ve made it far more visible and dramatic.

But the wyqtl past imperfect Hebrew verbs make it sound to me like while the Baalists were busy making noise, Elijah had been quietly working on the side. Probably with help, since he did have people who poured water for him. We don’t know what time of year this took place, and how hot an afternoon it was to be heaving stones and digging a trench, but obviously they did bring water. In any case Elijah’s work would’ve been finished by the time of evening sacrifice; his sacrifice would’ve been the evening sacrifice.

1 Kings 18.30-35 KWL

30Elijah told all the people, “Come near me.”

All the people came near him.

He had fixed YHWH’s torn-down altar.

31Elijah had taken 12 stones,

like the number of tribes of Jacob’s sons,

Jacob to whom YHWH’s word came,

to say, “Your name is Israel.”

32Elijah had built the stones into an altar

in the name of YHWH.

He made a trench which could house

two seahs [15 liters] of seed

round the altar.

33Elijah arranged the wood.

He cut the calf into pieces.

He placed it on the wood.

34Elijah said, “Fill four water jars.

Pour it on the offering and on the wood.”

He said, “Again.”

They did it again.

He said, “A third time.”

They did it a third time.

35Water ran all over the altar;

the trench was full of water as well.

Crosses versus crucifixes.

The names in this dialogue were changed to protect the privacy of the people having this discussion. You’ll see why.

LUQMAN. “…You're wearing a crucifix, so you're obviously Christian.”

AISHWARYA. “Cross. Not crucifix.”

LUQMAN. “It's not the same thing?”

AISHWARYA. “No. A crucifix has a dead Jesus on it. Crosses don't.”

ME [butting in]. “Sometimes dead, sometimes not. It depends on whether it shows the spear wound. If no spear wound, he’s dying, not dead.”

AISHWARYA. “No, he's always dead. Catholics worship a dead Jesus.”

SYLVESTER [who’s Catholic, and is now offended]. “We do not. And Leslie’s right; it's a dying Jesus. Crucifixes don't have the spear wound.”

AISHWARYA. “Well I worship a risen Jesus.”

ME. “Every Christian worships a risen Jesus. Whether they wear crucifixes or crosses.”

AISHWARYA. “Catholics don't.”

SYLVESTER. “Where are you getting this [MALARKEY] about Catholics? It sure ain’t from Catholics!”

Lemme correct my Catholic acquaintance: Not all crucifixes depict Jesus as dying instead of dead.
A Russian Orthodox blessing crucifix. Wikimedia Some of them intend to show all the torture the Romans inflicted upon him. This includes all five of “the five wounds”—the nails through his hands and feet, plus the spear in his side. Crucifixes regularly put the nails in the wrong place—the Romans crucified people through the wrists and ankles, not the palms and dorsums, which’d break a number of bones and y’might recall “A bone of him shall not be broken.” Jn 19.36 KJV Plus the “five wounds” don’t count the flogging and the crown of thorns; not sure why not, though most crucifixes definitely include the crown. Anyway, since the spear wound came after Jesus died, Jn 19.34 displaying it obviously means he’s dead. And lots of crucifixes deliberately display it.

Anyway. The reason Protestants tend to be pretty clueless about crucifixes, is traditionally we don’t display them. Largely that’s because, during the Protestant Reformation, the Calvinists decided to undecorate their church buildings. They wanted nothing to distract people from their sermons: No gilding, stained glass, nor art. No statues, including crucifixes. (In fact many of ’em still aren’t entirely sure statues don't violate the command against graven images. Dt 5.8-9) Not even crosses, if you can imagine. Nothing. Bare walls.

The Calvinist sensibility gradually became the prevalent mindset of cultural Evangelicals. It’s only in the 1900s when we begin to see decorations seriously return to Evangelical churches. And not without controversy; many Christians still think there should be nothing but bare walls in our churches. But even in the newly decorated churches, no crucifixes. Great big crosses and lots of ’em, but Jesus isn’t on them.