TXAB: The Christ Almighty Blog

It’s not just a prayer ministry. It’s prophetic too. INTERCESSION /ɪn.(t)ər'sɛs.ʃən/ n. The act of coming between one person and another, on the behalf of one (or both) of the parties. 2. The act of praying on behalf of another. [Intercessor /'ɪn.(t)ər.sɛs.sər/ n. , intercessory /ɪn.(t)ər'sɛs.(sə.)ri/ adj. ] Praying for rulers is one of the many forms of intercession , or the more redundant “intercessory prayer.” It’s when we try to help somebody out, by praying for or with ’em. Sometimes because they asked us to pray for them, but of course they don’t have to: We’re talking with God, they’re on our mind, we bring ’em up. There are a number of Christians who’ve made intercession their particular ministry. They don’t go out and physically or financially help the needy: They pray for them. Sometimes for legitimate reasons: They can’t physically help, or haven’t the authority, or haven’t the finances. So prayer’s all they can do. True in a whole lot of cases. Th

When religious quizzes try to pick out the cliché instead of the Christian. You are a Self-Discoverer You’re not religious, but you’ve created your own kind of spirituality. Introspective and thoughtful, you tend to look inward for the divine. You are distrusting of all forms of organized religion. You especially dislike religious gurus and leaders, who you feel are charlatans.   What’s Your Religious Philosophy? at Blogthings   When I first got into this blogging fad way back in 2004, I used to have a regular feature I called “Stupid Internet Surveys.” People on the internet create quizzes, y’know. It’s not just BuzzFeed; they didn’t start the trend either. But because the other early bloggers didn’t always know what to write about—much like the other folks on Facebook who have no idea what to post about themselves on a daily basis—they were sorta desperate for any junk to fill the blank spots in their blogs. Quizzes made up some of that junk. Still do. So, take one of the

How’s the leadership of your church structured? ’Cause it matters. Short answer: Jesus. Way longer answer: When Christians are asked who runs our individual churches, sometimes we describe the leadership structure of their church or denomination. But everybody can potentially give the answer “Jesus.” It is his church after all. He is the king over God’s kingdom. But since his kingdom isn’t yet of this world, Jn 18.36 the day-to-day duties of running Jesus’s churches on earth fall to vicars. Vicar is the Christianese word for “deputy,” and means the very same thing: Lieutenants who answer to the guy who’s really in charge, and that’d be Jesus. Hopefully we truly are working on his behalf, and not for ourselves… though I leave it to you as to how well we’re doing. Now, if you were to ask your average pagan who’s in charge, most of ’em assume the pastor is. (Or the minister, priest, father, sister, bishop, apostle, prophet—whatever you call the top dog.) Pastor says “Jump

Sometimes the Spirit explains his scriptures. Other times prophets just don’t wanna do their homework. I’m writing this article under the Prophecy category, but I should warn you: It’s not just prophets, wannabe prophets, and fake prophets who try to pull this stunt. Y’know where I first encountered it? Among cessationists, of all people. Yep. All of ’em figure they have the very same Holy Spirit as the authors of scripture. Which they should, if they’re Christians. Since the Spirit inspired the scriptures, the Spirit should also be able to clue us in on what the scriptures mean. Cessationists claim God doesn’t prophetically talk to people anymore. So what’s the point of ’em having the Holy Spirit? Well, they think he’s here for only two reasons: Confirm we’re going to heaven. Ep 1.13-14 Illuminate the scriptures. Illuminate means “light up,” and depending on how much the cessationist will permit the Holy Spirit to do, they figure either he lights them up so they can

’Cause we should. Why? Well, let’s look at the bible. After we elect a new president, governor, mayor, or whomever, we Christians tend to remind ourselves to pray for our rulers. Sometimes enthusiastically, ’cause our candidate got elected. And if we’re the really partisan sort, we’ll even rub this fact in other people’s faces. “The patriotic thing to do is to close ranks and back our new leader for the good of the country. So bury that disappointment and pray for your new leader—that’s right, your new leader.” Every so often, the Christian preaching this attempts a sympathetic tone—“Hey, I know it’s rough; I’ve had to do this when your guy won”—but most of the time they’re too happy to care. Or about 12 seconds of the message is sympathy, and the rest is a victory lap. Hey, I’ve been on both sides of it. And there’s mournfully, ’cause our candidate lost. The candidates have been demonizing one another throughout the election, so when partisans lose they’re convinced the End Tim

How I deal with cheesy stuff is to write some of my own. You might’ve heard of the “Footprints” or “Footprints in the Sand” story, which Christians tend to be overly fond of. Don’t know who wrote it; it arose at some point in the 20th century. Usually it’s printed on a photo of a beach, and sold, framed and unframed, in Christian bookstores. The general idea is this: The poet dreams he and Jesus have been walking through life, and during life’s rough patches Jesus carried the poet through it. Yet for some reason the poet was totally unaware of this, and accused Jesus of abandoning him, ’cause the poet’s an ungrateful, inattentive dick, and a bad Christian. …Well okay, people never notice that aspect of the story. But anyway. “Footprints” is popular, and so many Christians find it inspiring, you wind up seeing it way too often. I do, anyway. For a while there in the 1980s, I think it was mandatory to hang a copy of it in every church’s youth room. As soon as the internet becam

It’s about how Christians wanna experience God’s glory. Shekhinah /sɛ.xi'nɑ, usually ʃɛ'kaɪ.nə/ n. The glory of God’s presence. 2. God’s presence. 3. God’s dwelling place. [Shekhinic /ʃɛ'kaɪ.nɪk/ adj. ] The Hebrew word šekhiná , which English-speakers tend to spell “shekhinah” or “shekinah,” isn’t found in the bible. No, really. It comes from the Mishna. Sanhedrin 6.5, Avot 3.2, 6 It refers to God’s presence. More specifically the glory of God’s presence—provided we can feel or sense or see any kind of presence. God’s invisible, y’know. But sometimes he makes his presence more visible than usual. Like when he allowed Moses to see his glory Ex 33.18 —from the back, anyway. Or when the Hebrews saw God’s glory in his temple, 2Ch 7.3 or when Stephen had a vision of it. Ac 7.55 None of these folks were talking about seeing God himself. The apostle John is entirely sure they didn’t see God himself. Jn 1.18 But they saw something , and what they saw was wh

Christians are curse-proof. But some of us are convinced family curses still affect us. In the middle of the Ten Commandments, as he warned the Hebrews away from idolatry, the L ORD mentioned a little something about how children suffer consequences for their parents. Exodus 20.5-6 KWL 5 “Don’t bow down to them. Don’t serve them. For I’m Y HWH your God: I’m El-Qanná /‘Possessive God.’ I have children suffer consequences for their parents’ evil —and the grandchildren, and great-grandchildren—when they hate me. 6 But I show love to a thousand generations when they love me and observe my commands.” Elsewhere in Exodus , when the L ORD revealed his glory to Moses, he repeated this idea of forgiving a thousand generations, yet afflicting three or four generations. Exodus 34.6-7 KWL 6 The L ORD passed over Moses’s face and said, “Y HWH . Y HWH . God. Compassionate. Gracious. Slow to anger. Great in love and truth. 7 Lovingly guarding thousands, putting up with

If you’re gonna have something permanently etched into your skin, maybe think about it a bit, okay? Got into a discussion with Mathilda ( name changed to protect the feelin’-guilty) and I found it interesting enough to rant about. Even though my views may get me into trouble with both legalists and libertines. Mathilda has a tattoo. I do not. Never got one. Not that I disapprove of them per se. I simply haven’t found anything I’d like to permanently decorate myself with. I know; the older folks are gonna quote bible at me about how you’re never, ever supposed to tattoo yourself. Leviticus 19.28 NIV “Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks on yourselves. I am the L ORD .” The word the NIV renders “tattoo” is qaháqa . In modern Hebrew it means “tattoo,” and it only appears this one time in the bible. Unless you count the apocryphal book of Jesus ben Sirach , which I don’t. (Long story as short as I can make it: Sirach was written in Hebrew, translated i

Why hellfire and brimstone is the worst way to proclaim God’s kingdom. Recently I got to talking with a member of my church about evangelism. She wanted to know how I shared Jesus. Not to pick up any pointers or anything; she just wanted to make sure I wasn’t spreading heresy. (She’s one of those folks who’s not sure anyone’s doing Christianity right but her.) So I talked about how I usually lead pagans to Jesus: First I try to plug ’em into a church. Doesn’t need to be mine, but it should be a fruitful church. They’re more likely to encounter Jesus for themselves if the people in the church know him personally, y’know. She. “And what do you tell them about hell?” Me. “Not much. They don’t usually ask.” She. “You don’t warn them about hell? ” Me. “I don’t need to. I’ve already got ’em interested in going to church.” She. “But you’ve gotta warn ’em about hell!” Me. “Why?” She. [ gonna burst a blood vessel over my perceived stupidity ] “Because that’s where they’

All the way back in 2016, my church decided it was time to begin our 21-day Daniel fast on the first Sunday of the month. Specifically this was Sunday, 3 January 2016. Welcome back from the holidays, folks; no doughnut for you. “Really not appropriate to schedule a fast for a feast day,” I pointed out to one of my fellow church attendees. SHE. “Feast day? This is a feast day?” ME. “It’s still Christmas.” SHE. “Christmas was two Fridays ago.” ME. “Christmas began two Fridays ago. And ends tomorrow. It lasts 12 days, remember? ” SHE. “ What lasts 12 days?” ME. “Christmas. Remember the song? ‘On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…’ and each day the singer just kept getting more and more birds? ’Cause Christmas has 12 days.” SHE. “Who celebrates it for 12 days?” ME. “ I celebrate it for 12 days. I’m still eating cookies.” SHE. “Well, you can do that if you like. I took the tree down the day after Christmas.” ME. “You mean the second day of C

Stuff I’ve discovered by reading different translations every year. I realize people are gonna find the title of this article through Google or one of the other search engines, and are gonna be vastly disappointed I haven’t provided an easy-to-use chart establishing, “ These translations are good and holy and inspired of God… and these translations are the product of an international conspiracy of devil-worshipers,” or some other such extreme. You want fear-ridden nutjobs, you’ve come to the wrong blog. Nope; today’s rant is about the bible translations I wind up reading through—and getting irritated by—when I do my bible in a month thingy every January. That’s right; I don’t merely suggest you do it, and leave you with a big pile of reading material. I do it too. I pop over to Bible Gateway, pick a translation I’m not all that familiar with, and get to readin’. Sometimes I start in December, while it’s still Christmas. Sometimes later in January. Still tend to get it read w