Does Elijah outrun Ahab?

1 Kings 18.44-46.

Seven פְּעָמִֽים/pe’amím, “beats,” or “seconds,” after Elijah’s boy had checked the weather and saw nothing, Elijah had him check it again, and the boy saw a cloud coming. That, to Elijah, meant rain, so he sent the boy to warn the king, Ahab ben Omri, rain was coming—so go אֱסֹ֣ר/asór, “tie up.” Tie up what? The KJV translates this “Prepare [thy chariot]”—it added the words “thy chariot” because it presumed Ahab rode a chariot, because Ahab later used a chariot in battle. 1Ki 22.35

But the reason you used chariots in battle was so your driver could steer the horse while you shot arrows; people back then didn’t know how to do both, and it kinda terrified middle easterners when the Scythians figured out how to do both. You really have to know how to ride, and Ahab wasn’t that kind of rider.

But the verb יִּרְכַּ֥ב/yorkháv, “mounted,” in verse 45, indicates Ahab wasn’t riding in a chariot; he was on horseback when he rode to his palace in יִזְרְעֶֽאל/Yitzre’el, KJV “Jezreel.” This is a valley near Samaria. Its name means “God scatters seed,” and was probably named that because people originally farmed it. Various Christians nonetheless try to find some way to ironically connect its meaning to the events of Ahab’s life, but that’s just futile guesswork. Anyway, “chariot” got added to the text by the KJV, and there’s no reason to insist Ahab rode one home. It’s why I don’t translate it that way.

1 Kings 18.44-46 KWL

44In the seventh second this happened:

The boy said, “Look, a little cloud,

looking like the palm of a man’s hand,

rising from the sea.”

Elijah said, “Go up.

Tell Ahab, ‘Harness your horse

and go down lest the rain stop you.’¹”

45While this happened, the skies blackened—

clouds and wind, and it became great rain.

Ahab mounted his horse

and went to Jezre’el.

46YHWH’s hand came upon Elijah,

who put his belt on his hips

and ran before Ahab’s face

until he entered Jezre’el.

Here’s the thing: The text says Elijah “ran before Ahab’s face.” That actually doesn’t mean Elijah outran Ahab, or Ahab’s chariot, or Ahab’s horse, or Ahab’s anything. I know that’s how Christians traditionally interpret this passage—Ahab whipping his horse to run as fast as possible, and Elijah somehow, miraculously, running faster than Ahab’s horse; running like God had struck him with lightning and turned him into the Flash.

Nope. Time for some grammato-historical context, folks.

All have sinned. [Ro 3.23]

Romans 3.23 KJV

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;

 

Most of the verses in my brain are in the King James Version, ’cause when I was a kid in Sunday school, that’s the translation they had us memorize ’em in. But in junior high they switched us to the then-brand-new New International Version, so I have a few verses embedded in my brain in that translation. That’s how I remember Romans 3.23 now: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

Yeah, it’s the same, but fall short instead of come short. The word they’re both translating is ὑστεροῦνται/ysterúnte, “come too late, lag behind, fail to achieve, come up short.” If you’re trying to get to the post office just before it closes, you didn’t make it; your stuff’s getting postmarked with tomorrow’s date. Lost the race, didn’t have enough to pay the bill, flunked the test, missed the deadline. The number of karmic points you figured you’ve racked up? Not remotely close to enough.

So if you somehow thought you had achieved God’s glory, nope. If you thought you came really, really close—and who knows; maybe you actually came farther than anyone else!—it wasn’t enough. The way some preachers talk, not only has nobody come close; everybody sucks. Even the very best of us deserve to burn forever in hell. I don’t share their pessimism; I think there are some very good people out there. Jesus was certainly impressed with John the baptist. Mt 11.11 But even John the baptist, good as he was, falls short of God’s glory. So close, yet not close enough.

If this bums you out… well you really oughta read the whole context of this verse. Paul of Tarsus is trying to not bum you out—by pointing out how even though everybody falls short of God’s glory, God can nonetheless make us right with him. If we wanna be saved, God’s made it so he can save us.

Romans 3.21-26 KJV

21But now God has shown us a way to be made right with him without keeping the requirements of the law, as was promised in the writings of Moses and the prophets long ago. 22We are made right with God by placing our faith in Jesus Christ. And this is true for everyone who believes, no matter who we are.

23For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. 24Yet God, in his grace, freely makes us right in his sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins. 25For God presented Jesus as the sacrifice for sin. People are made right with God when they believe that Jesus sacrificed his life, shedding his blood. This sacrifice shows that God was being fair when he held back and did not punish those who sinned in times past, 26for he was looking ahead and including them in what he would do in this present time. God did this to demonstrate his righteousness, for he himself is fair and just, and he makes sinners right in his sight when they believe in Jesus.

Christ Jesus is the sacrifice for our sin. Jesus is God; even though the scripture refers to “God” and “Jesus” as two persons, the two are one God, and this is really describing self-sacrifice. If we trust in Jesus’s sacrifice for our sins—if we trust Jesus—this is the sort of faith God is looking for, and this is the sort of faith he counts as righteousness. He justifies us by our faith.

Really, he justifies everybody by their faith. Dispensationalists claim back in bible times, God actually did save people once they were good enough; once they perfectly obeyed the Law of Moses. Verses 25-26 right here are saying just the opposite. The reason God forgave people in times past, and didn’t smite them despite how often they violated the Law, is because he transcends time, and so does Jesus’s sacrifice. Even though Jesus’s death happened centuries or millennia later, it covers them too. And even though they didn’t know anything about Jesus and what he would one day do, if they nonetheless trusted God to save them, he would. Same as he did Abraham.

So if you’ve sinned and fallen short of God’s glory: Well, stop sinning. Repent. But if you’re worried your sins, both past and future, make it impossible for you to be saved: They do not. If you’ve fallen short of God’s glory, relax; so have I, so has everyone. But your sins, no matter how many, are in no way mightier than God. They can’t stop him from forgiving you, declaring you righteous, adopting you, and bringing you into his kingdom.

“My ailment is 𝘮𝘺 thorn in the flesh.”

Recently I wrote about Paul’s “thorn in the flesh.” Christians regularly claim Paul of Tarsus was writing about a chronic illness. But the way he phrases it in 1 Corinthians indicates he means a person—an opponent who constantly got in his way, who irritated Paul so much he asked Jesus to remove him. And Jesus told him no: Paul needed this guy to keep him humble, and Paul was just gonna have to rely on Jesus’s grace. So he did. 2Co 12.6-10

I explain this to people… and of course they don’t believe me, because they’ve never heard this interpretation before. People are more apt to believe what they’ve been taught their whole lives, all evidence to the contrary. Besides who am I, anyway? Just some blogger. Who’s not even rich and famous; according to the prosperity gospel, wealth and fame are obvious endorsements from God, and if I don’t have that I’m not even worth listening to.

So we’re back to the more common belief Paul was talking about an illness. And people regularly use this belief to justify not praying for their illnesses. Because if Jesus didn’t cure Paul, why should he cure them? They’re not as important as Paul was. Not as devout, not as zealous, not as knowledgeable, not as holy. And if you’re still on the prosperity gospel train, not as rich and famous.

I’ve encountered this attitude more than once. Someone gets a chronic illness. Might be arthritis, diabetes, epilepsy, blindness, deafness, HIV, you name it. Some are treatable; some are not. Some leave you in constant pain. So they pray. And pray and pray and pray. And because God hasn’t cure them yet, they figure his answer is no. Hey, sometimes it is.

Here’s where they get a little wonky: “And God told me no because he’s trying to keep me humble. You know, like Paul and his thorn in the flesh. This is my thorn in the flesh. God’s grace is just gonna have to be sufficient for me.”

The scriptures were written for our benefit and instruction, so they figure Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” bit was written as a bit of theodicy—an explanation for why evil happens in a good God’s universe. An explanation for why God sometimes doesn’t cure the sick. Paul said it was to keep him from getting ὑπεραίρωμαι/yperérome, “conceited, proud, self-exalted.” He was in danger of becoming too vain because of all the awesome revelations God showed him; 2Co 12.7 he might turn into one of those prophets who insist, “I’m a really important prophet because God tells me everything!” To remind him no, he’s not all that, God let him suffer. So, Christians conclude, to remind us we’re not all that, God lets us suffer.

This… is a really messed-up belief. And not biblical. But unfortunately all too common.

Are you 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 Abraham’s children?

John 8.39-42.

You recall Jesus teaching the Judeans who believed in him how, if they’re truly his students and abide in his teachings, Jn 8.30 they’ll know the truth, and it’ll free them. Jn 8.31 Their response was, “Free?—from what? We’re no slaves,” Jn 8.33 and Jesus replied, “You are when you’re slaves to sin,” Jn 8.34 and “You should do as you hear from the Father.” Jn 8.38 (Jesus clearly meant our heavenly Father, although the Textus Receptus made it sound like he meant Satan, which is what’ll happen when you insert words willy-nilly into the bible.)

Y’know how certain Christians will give knee-jerk responses when you ask ’em questions? I once taught a seventh-grade bible class in which I was trying to teach the kids about atonement, and at one point I asked the kids, “So what saves us?” and their automatic, brain-bypassed response was, “Jesus saves us.” Yes yes Jesus saves us, but I wanted ’em to be more specific. And we kinda see this when Jesus refers to the Father… and the Judeans immediately respond with, “Oh, Abraham’s our father.” Yes, God’s their Father too; they acknowledge that in a few verses, Jn 8.41 but y’know, knee-jerk responses.

John 8.39-42 KWL

39In reply the Judeans tell him, “Our father is Abraham.”

Jesus tells them, “If you’re² Abraham’s children,

you² should be doing Abraham’s works.

40Now you² seek to kill me,

a man who tells you² the truth I hear from God.

Abraham didn’t do this.

41You² do the work of your² real father.”

{So} the Judeans tell him,

“We weren’t fathered by unchastity.

We have one Father, God.”

42Jesus tells them, “If God is your² Father,

you² would show me love,

for I come from God

and I’m right here.

For I never came here by myself;

but by that person who sends me.”

Now, don’t get confused. None of these people are actually talking about genealogy. They’re talking about spiritual parents. Abraham is the biological ancestor of the Ishmaelites (Arabia), the Isaacites (Israel; and Edom, which Israel had absorbed in the first century BC), and the Midianites (Yemen). But more importantly Abraham is the ancestor of justification by faith—of trusting the LORD, which the LORD counts as righteousness. Ge 15.6, Ro 4.3, Ga 3.6 And God is their Father; not just because he rescued the Hebrews from Egypt and made them his people, but because they were meant to abide in him and follow his Law. Much like Jesus said we’re to abide in him, Jn 15.4 and his word. Jn 8.31

Now if Abraham were their spiritual father—if God were recognized as their heavenly Father—they’d act like these spiritual fathers. Right? You’d see faith in ’em. You’d see love. You’d see an entirely different attitude towards Jesus than we see in the scriptures. Heck, you’d see an entirely different attitude towards Jesus than we see among Evangelicals. But we don’t see any of these proper attitudes and responses and lifestyles. We see hypocrisy and sin. So Jesus calls ’em on it.

If you ever wondered why the Judeans wanted Jesus dead, this is one of many reasons.

The Lᴏʀᴅ forgives Ahab and sends rain.

1 Kings 18.41-44.

In verse 40 we were at the wadi Qišón, slaughtering Baalists. There were 450 of Baal’s prophets and 400 of Ashtoreth’s, and let’s be blunt: That’s a massacre. That’s a lot of death. They probably did it at the wadi because they could quickly turn it into a mass grave.

Totally deserved, because Baalist religion practiced ritual sex—which means prostitution, sex trafficking, rape, and child molestation. It was a filthy, exploitative religion and needed to be wiped from the face of the earth; not just in Israel. Your average person doesn’t realize this—or doesn’t realize just how horribly depraved it was—and might think this is only about religious intolerance. And isn’t it literally overkill to execute 850 false prophets over a difference of religious opinion? So they’ll think the massacre was in some way unrighteous, like when present-day Israel bombed Gaza City into oblivion for the sake of maybe 100 terrorists. But this wasn’t unrighteous. These Baalists were truly evil, and casually hurt and killed people. They had to go.

And you may not be aware of this: King Ahab ben Omri was their head priest.

That was how Baalism was set up in Sidón, where Ahab’s queen was from: The king was the head priest of Baal, and the queen was the head priest of Baal’s consort Ashtoreth. Baalism wasn’t just a religion they practiced; they led it. They were in charge. They funded the temples, hired the priests, led the main religious festivals, participated in the sacrifices, and engaged in the ritual sex. They ran all the sex trafficking in Baalism; they were the chief sex traffickers of the kingdom of Ephraim. Ahab deserved to have his throat cut even more than his 850 prophets.

But Elijah didn’t kill him. The LORD let him live, and let him go home to his pagan wife. 1Ki 18.45

Probably because when the crowd witnessed the LORD sending fire to consume not just the sacrificial bull, but the entire stone altar, the trench full of water around it, and the ground round about; 1Ki 18.38 then shouted “YHWH, he is God!” 1Ki 18.39 KWL Ahab was among them. Probably because when Elijah ordered the Baalists taken to the wadi to have their throats slit, he didn’t do it alone; Ahab and his men helped. Ahab made a full 180-degree turn from Baalism to Yahwism, and actually repented. Which is absolutely understandable: Considering how powerfully the LORD had come through for Elijah, even the most politically jaded of kings should’ve been easily convinced he’d better repent. Baal did nothing, but the LORD vaporized stones.

So yeah, for now, Ahab repented. Though he deserved to die along with his prophets, and be thrown in a mass grave along with them, he didn’t and wasn’t. The LORD didn’t order him killed; didn’t tell Elijah there’d be further consequences for the king and for Ephraim. The LORD forgave him.

Yeah, preachers tend to skip that fact too. Mostly because Ahab goes horribly wrong later in the story. At most they’ll say the LORD right here gave Ahab another chance. But isn’t this exactly what forgiveness is?—another chance. The LORD gives us lots of extra chances. Even when we do the very same kind of foul, perverse things as Ahab ben Omri, and get away with it just as much as Jeffrey Epstein’s friends did. Even when we absolutely don’t deserve another chance; really we deserve to die. But the LORD can forgive anything.

So he forgave Ahab, and let him eat and drink, and sent him rain.

1 Kings 18.41-44 KWL

41Elijah told Ahab, “Go up, eat, and drink,

for there’s a roaring sound of rain.”

42Ahab went up to eat and drink,

and Elijah went up to the top of Karmél.

He sat down on the ground,

his face between his knees.

43Elijah told his boy,

“Now go up. Look towards the sea.”

The boy went up, looked, and said, “Not anything.”

Elijah said, “Go back in seven seconds.”

44In the seventh second this happened:

The boy said, “Look, a little cloud,

looking like the palm of a man’s hand,

rising from the sea.”

Elijah said, “Go up.

Tell Ahab, ‘Harness your horse

and go down lest the rain stop you.’¹”

“Bible’s valid because bible says so.”

Last week I came across a meme which I found amusing. I remade it because I wanted a higher-resolution version of it. It’s meant to mock the circular reasoning involved in saying, “The bible’s true because the bible says it’s true.” And it’s not wrong to mock the reasoning.

Ha-ha, your power comes from nothing.

After all, would we accept that reasoning about any other religion’s scriptures? The Book of Mormon claims within its pages its teachings are true. As do the Quran, the Baghavad-Gita, the Dhammapada, and Atlas Shrugged. Any self-help or wellness book will do it too. Heck, I do it on this very blog; I’m certainly trying to present the truth here, even though I allow for the fact I’m gonna be wrong from time to time. (Not intentionally, but I make no claims of infallibility.) Anybody who publishes non-fiction is usually making some claim of truthfulness.

But how d’you know they’re truthful? Do you accept it solely on the testimony of the book or paper or periodical or blog itself? Do you even claim, “I believe it’s true because it says it’s true”? ’Cause if you do, you’re guilty of the very same circular reasoning.

Happy Halloween. Bought your candy yet?

For decades—yep, it’s been decades now—I’ve ranted about the ridiculous Evangelical practice of shunning Halloween. I call it ridiculous ’cause it really is: It’s a fear-based, irrational, misinformed, slander-filled rejection of a holiday which is actually a legitimate part of the Christian calendar.

No I’m not kidding. It’s our holiday. Christians invented Halloween.

A perfect opportunity to show Christlike generosity—and give the best candy ever. But too many of us make a serious point of being grouchy, fear-addled spoilsports. Image swiped from a mommy blog.

I know; you’ve likely read an article which claims Halloween got its origin in pagan harvest festivals. That’s complete bunk. Some neo-Pagan (one of the capital-P Pagans who worship nature and its gods, whose religions date from the 1960s, even though they claim they’re revivals of ancient pre-Christian religions) started the claim we Christians swiped it from them, and there’s no historical evidence whatsoever for this claim. But gullible reporters believed it, and repeat it every year when they write about the history of Halloween. It’s been passed around so long, people actually try to debunk me by quoting 30-year-old articles which claim Halloween was originally Samhain or some other pagan harvest festival. But these old articles were incorrect then; incorrect now.

Samhain (pronounced 'saʊ.ən) is a contraction of sam fuin/“summer’s end.” It’s a Celtic harvest festival which dates back to pre-Christian times. It happens at the autumnal equinox, which was last month, on 22 September. It’s totally unrelated to Halloween. It’s as if you claimed the Fourth of July was originally a celebration of the summer solstice… and the fact you barbecue and drink beer on that day, just like the ancients regularly used to cook meat over fire and drink beer, proves it.

Oh, and neither neo-Pagan nor Christian holidays involve a celebration of creepy horror movie themes. That got added in the 20th century.