Our inspired bible.

INSPIRE ɪn.spaɪ(.ə)r verb. Breathe (air) in; inhale.

2. Fill with a positive, creative feeling; encourage.

3. Fill with the urge or ability to do or feel something; provoke.

[Inspiration ɪn.spə'reɪ.ʃən noun.]

Whenever we Christians talk about inspiration, whether we refer to inspired prophets, inspired teachings, inspired writings, or even inspired music, we generally assume God did the inspiring. (Specifically God the Holy Spirit.) He’s the one who breathes brilliance into us.

One word we regularly translate “inspired” is θεόπνευστος/theónefstos, a word Paul probably coined. Literally it means “God-breathed,” which is how the NIV prefers to translate it in 2 Timothy 3.16.

2 Timothy 3.15-16 NIV

14 But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, 15 and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 17 so that the servant of God a may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

People tend to fling around the word “inspired” as if it only means we had a brainstorm. That’s not what theónefstos means at all. It’s God involved with, behind, this creation process. It’s the Holy Spirit, living within the teacher, prophet, author, or artist, pointing ’em towards Jesus, getting them to describe God with infallible accuracy.

This is what Christians tend to believe about the books and letters which make up the bible: It’s inspired. The Holy Spirit got its authors to describe God with infallible accuracy.

Some Christians believe this God-breathed inspiration isn’t true of anything else. God inspired the bible, and that’s all. When God inspired Old Testament prophets and New Testament apostles, it was only so they’d write him some bible. Since the bible’s done, he’s inspired no one since. And of course this is bunk; God never stopped interacting with humanity, and still regularly inspires people. Not to write bible, ’cause it doesn’t need any more additions. But certainly the Spirit inspires all sorts of other things which point people towards Jesus.

And on the other extreme we have Christians who believe God inspires every act of human creativity. (Or even animal creativity; they’ll talk about bird nests and beaver dams as inspired.) Whereas I’m pretty sure if every time your kid builds something of Legos it makes you drop to your knees and praise Jesus for his gifts of creativity, you need a psychiatrist. Of course humans create; creativity is something God innately built into us. It’s not always inspired by God. Often it’s inspired by the hopes it’ll make us famous, or make us money. Yep, this is true of Christian artists too. I’ve seen the Jesus junk they sell at Hobby Lobby. Saying the Holy Spirit is behind all that crap? Dirty, dirty blasphemy.

But I digress; I’m trying to write about bible. And yes, the bible’s inspired. People had God-experiences, and wanted to record them for posterity. God dropped various ideas in people’s heads, and they wrote those down too. King David wrote poetry, and God nudged him to write really good poetry. Peter, John, James, Paul, Silas, Timothy, and Sosthenes had some good advice to give fellow Christians, and God nudged them to give profoundly useful advice. Inspired people wrote it, inspired Christians compiled it, and inspired Christians uphold it.

True, inspired people were and are fallible humans. But as people follow the Holy Spirit, he guides us to truth, Jn 16.13 and steers us clear of sin and error. In the moment, we can (and do) write and prophesy infallible stuff. Once done, we might (heck, do) slip up, sin, make mistakes, and fumble right back into fallibility. But the stuff done by the Spirit’s power is still good stuff. The writings in the bible are still authoritative. So we kept ’em.

The bible in “the original Aramaic”: The Peshitta.

When he lived on earth, Jesus spoke Aramaic.

That’s the language ancient Syrians spoke; the name Aramaic comes from אֲרָם/Arám, a country which later became part of Syria. Through the Assyrian and Babylonian empires, it became the main language of commerce in the middle east… until Alexander of Macedon forced everyone to switch to Greek in the 300s BC. When Israel were taken into captivity by the Assyrians and Babylonians, two generations later they were all speaking Aramaic. When they returned from Persia to re-found Jerusalem, they spoke Aramaic. So did the Samaritans up north. So did the Edomites. So did everyone.

Thing is… the bible was in Hebrew. And now (except for the parts which are actually in Aramaic) it had to be translated into Aramaic so the Aramaic-speaking public could understand it. That’s why the Pharisees came up with targums, Aramaic translations of the Hebrew scriptures which non-Hebrew-speakers could understand. Jesus could read the bible, Lk 4.16-20 and knew it extensively, so it’s obvious he’s fluent in Hebrew too. But whenever he spoke to the common people, to fellow Israelis, he spoke Aramaic. Ac 26.14

Because it’s a Syrian language, sometimes people refer to Aramaic as Syriac. The King James Version definitely does. Da 2.4 Though more recently, linguists identify Syriac as a dialect of Aramaic, if not a whole different language with Aramaic at its root. Syriac doesn’t use the Ashurit alphabet like Hebrew does; it has its own alphabet (with the same names and sounds, but it looks quite different). And while the classical Aramaic of bible times is probably extinct, Syriac is still spoken by people in Germany, India, Iraq, Israel, Palestine, Sweden, Syria, and Türkiye. And it’s still the language used in the worship services of the Syriac Orthodox Church, the Maronite Church, the Chaldean Catholic Church and other eastern Catholics who use a Syriac rite, the Malabar Independent Syrian Church, the Malankara Mar Thoma Syrian Church, the Assyrian Church of the East, the Assyrian Pentecostal Church, and other ethnic Assyrian Christians.

Naturally there are Syriac translations of the bible. But the most important one is the one which predates nearly most other translations of the bible. Parts predate the Vulgate. Goes so far back, you’re still gonna have a lot of Syriac-speaking Christians who insist this is the original New Testament—not the Greek texts. I’ll get to that.

The most ancient Syriac translation of the bible is called the Peshitta (Aramaic ܡܦܩܬܐ ܦܫܝܛܬܐ/mappaqtá f’šíthta, “ordinary version”). Reference to “the Syriac gospel” in Eusebius’s writings in the 100s indicate it’d been started, at least, in the 100s. We have copies which date since that time, starting in the 400s. The earliest full copies we have of the New Testament, date to the 600s. And while the Vulgate became the bible of the Latin-speaking world, the Peshitta became the bible of eastern Christians outside the Roman Empire: Missionaries brought it to Armenia, Georgia, Arabia, and Persia, where it influenced their bible translations.

“Seek ye first”: Pursuing wealth via pursuing God’s kingdom.

Matthew 6.33.

In Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount, he said the following:

Matthew 6.31-33 Peshitta

31 ܠܳܐ ܗܳܟ݂ܺܝܠ ܬ݁ܺܐܨܦ݁ܽܘܢ ܐܰܘ ܬ݁ܺܐܡܪܽܘܢ ܡܳܢܳܐ ܢܶܐܟ݂ܽܘܠ ܐܰܘ ܡܳܢܳܐ ܢܶܫܬ݁ܶܐ ܐܰܘ ܡܳܢܳܐ ܢܶܬ݂ܟ݁ܰܣܶܐ 32 ܟ݁ܽܠܗܶܝܢ ܓ݁ܶܝܪ ܗܳܠܶܝܢ ܥܰܡ݈ܡܶܐ ܗ݈ܘ ܒ݁ܳܥܶܝܢ ܠܗܶܝܢ ܐܰܒ݂ܽܘܟ݂ܽܘܢ ܕ݁ܶܝܢ ܕ݁ܒ݂ܰܫܡܰܝܳܐ ܝܳܕ݂ܰܥ ܕ݁ܳܐܦ݂ ܠܟ݂ܽܘܢ ܡܶܬ݂ܒ݁ܰܥܝܳܢ ܗܳܠܶܝܢ ܟ݁ܽܠܗܶܝܢ 33 ܒ݁ܥܰܘ ܕ݁ܶܝܢ ܠܽܘܩܕ݂ܰܡ ܡܰܠܟ݁ܽܘܬ݂ܶܗ ܕ݁ܰܐܠܳܗܳܐ ܘܙܰܕ݁ܺܝܩܽܘܬ݂ܶܗ ܘܟ݂ܽܠܗܶܝܢ ܗܳܠܶܝܢ ܡܶܬ݁ܬ݁ܰܘܣܦ݂ܳܢ ܠܟ݂ܽܘܢ

What, you thought he said it in English? But okay, lemme stop messing with you and go with English instead of Aramaic.

Matthew 6.31-33 GNT

31 “So do not start worrying: ‘Where will my food come from? or my drink? or my clothes?’ 32 (These are the things the pagans are always concerned about.) Your Father in heaven knows that you need all these things. 33 Instead, be concerned above everything else with the Kingdom of God and with what he requires of you, and he will provide you with all these other things.”

Or as the King James Version has verse 33, “But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” Mt 6.33 KJV That’s the way I memorized it back in Sunday school. It’s a good verse to put in your brain. God first; let the worries of this world sort themselves out.

Problem is, when people only have that one specific verse in your brain, and aren’t wholly aware of the verses which come before it, nor what Jesus is even talking about… we’re gonna fill in the gaps in our knowledge with what we imagine Jesus meant by it. And some of those imaginations aren’t all that righteous.

One of the more frequent ways I’ve heard Christians misuse verse 33 over the years, is by not knowing what Jesus means by “all these other things.” By guessing at what Jesus means by “all these other things.” As if it’s all that hard to crack open a bible, read the Sermon on the Mount, and know what Jesus means; but yeah, they’d rather guess, and guess badly.

So among the Prosperity Gospel crowd, “all these other things” tends to mean wealth. If we “seek ye first the kingdom of God,” if we concentrate on growing Christianity and the church and its ministries and outreaches, if we put our resources towards all that first… then God will grant us “all these other things.” He’ll give us wealth. Riches. Health. Stable families. A state with an ethical, efficient government. A growing—no, booming!—economy. Wages going up, prices going down. Every hurricane pushed away from our state and redirected towards Florida… ’cause they know what they did. Taco trucks on every corner, with every taco more delicious than the last.

Yep, if we seek the kingdom of God first, God’ll grant us our own personal paradises on earth. Streets of gold before New Earth gets created. So let’s concentrate on that kingdom of God!

The Joshua generation.

When Moses first appeared before the pharaoh of Egypt to demand freedom for his people, he was 80 years old. Seriously. Eighty. Ex 7.7

I know; the Moses movies never depict him as that old. Never cast an 80-year-old guy to play Moses. Might put him in a long white beard, as they did with Charlton Heston, but dude was still only 33 years old when they filmed it.

I suspect it’s because movie directors look at all Moses achieved and simply can’t believe he was 80. They figure the bible has to have exaggerated his age. But I have no trouble with the idea. After all, the LORD does all the heavy lifting, and all Moses had to do was repeat whatever the LORD told him. And not hit certain rocks—but that’s another story.

People in American culture expect to retire, and sit on our keisters the rest of our lives, at 65. In Moses’s day, retirement wasn't a thing. At his age he was still sheep-herding. Then the LORD called him to shepherd Israel.

For help, Moses had his 83-year-old brother, Aaron—first as spokesman, then as head priest. Plus his 90-something sister Miriam, a prophet. Finally his assistant, Hoshea ben Nun, whose age isn’t stated but was likely about 40. Moses renamed him Joshua, Nu 13.16 and he occasionally led Israel’s militia. Like the United States Congress, that’s what we call a gerontocracy—a nation run by old people. Joshua, and Aaron’s sons who helped their dad lead worship, were the only “youngsters”—if you can call men in their forties, fifties, and possibly sixties, “young.” Younger than Moses, anyway.

But over time Moses and his generation died, and those who were left of Joshua’s generation had to step up and run the nation.

Certain Christians are very aware that at some point, we’re not gonna run Christendom’s churches and denominations anymore. Not gonna lead ministries, charities, Christian schools, Christian publishers, Christian media, humanitarian lobbies, and various businesses which like to imagine they follow biblical principles. We’re gonna retire, either because age or ailments catch up with us; we’re gonna die. We have to hand the reins over to a new generation. The next generation. The “Joshua generation.”

So we gotta get this Joshua generation ready for the job!

Put some bible in your brain!

There are certain bits of bible which need to be embedded in a Christian’s brain. Need to be.

No, this isn’t a requirement before God can save you. But it’s extremely useful to be able to quote various verses and passages which remind us of God’s love and grace and goodness, of Jesus’s teachings and commands, of the thinking behind God’s acts and our beliefs, and of promises, encouragements, and expectations. We need to put some verses into our memories.

So here’s how we get started.

Lots of Christians insist there are particular verses every one of us ought have memorized, like the Lord’s Prayer, or “the Lord’s my shepherd,” John 3.16, or Romans 6.23, or Romans 10.9. (People tend to refer to verses by their addresses. That’s sorta annoying for those of us who mix addresses up. I’m one of them, by the way.)

No, I’m not going to go through the entire list of Christians’ favorite memory verses right now. I’ll bring one or another up from time to time. If you’ve been praying the Lord’s Prayer, hopefully you’ve got it in your head by now anyway.

Me, I prefer this technique: It’s a little more natural.

Fundamentalists and cultists.

I grew up Fundamentalist, and I’ve written a few things about my childhood experiences with it.

I’m not Fundie anymore. I have significant disagreements with how they develop their theology, how they define orthodoxy and heresy, the legalistic ways they enforce these beliefs, and the problematic trends in their churches as a result—the gracelessness, the isolationism, the totalitarianism, the abuse, the prejudice and sexism, the terror of devils round every corner. They regularly get cultish.

So often, one could argue Fundamentalism itself is a cult—but it definitely won’t be me making that argument. Because Fundies don’t have to become cultish. I’ve known good Christian fundamentalists!—believe it or don’t, there actually are some. Fundies who push back against bad theology, legalism, gracelessness, fruitlessness. Fundamentalism in itself doesn’t generate these things; its whole point is to preserve “the fundamental principles of Christianity,” and encourage biblical literacy.

Thing is, the way they go about it is almost exactly the same way Pharisees went at it in the first century BC. Their whole goal was to preserve the Law of Moses, biblical literacy, and a devout lifestyle. Of course, legalism and nationalism—and hypocrisy, and a ton of loopholes—also crept into their movement. The parallels between Pharisaism and Fundamentalism are crazy. But not surprising.

Anyway, because of all the cultishness, whenever I tell pagans I grew up Fundamentalist, they immediately leap to the conclusion I used to be a cult member. Because all the Fundies they see on TV are mighty culty. Might be from fictional TV shows where the writers, for dramatic reasons, choose to depict all the worst-case excesses of Fundamentalism. Might be from a crime documentary, which of course profiles criminals who claim to be Fundies, and if their churches foolishly endorsed or even tried to cover up their crimes, they’re definitely a cult. Might be from a reality show which follows “regular, normal Fundamentalist folk,” but because reality shows aren’t all that real, they overemphasize anything weird… and Fundies, and for that matter all Christians, honestly don’t realize how weird we can sometimes get.

So yeah, if all you see are the wackadoos, stands to reason you’d assume Fundies are all like that. And I remind you, it’s not all.

But… it’s many. Too many Fundies actually are like that.

The Prodigal Son Story, part 2.

Luke 15.20B-24.

I split up the Prodigal Son Story, Jesus’s parable about a son who squanders his wealth and returns, tail between his legs, to a forgiving father. Whoops, spoiled the ending. Oh well; you had the past 20 centuries to hear of it.

Part 1 dealt with the popular Christian myth that asking for one’s inheritance before your dad died was a grave insult; it was an acceptable practice first-century Jewish sons did when they moved to other parts of the Roman Empire for whatever reason. I also brought up the evil, underhanded attitudes people project upon the prodigal son, when Jesus tells of no such things. He did lose his inheritance on excessive living, but let’s not leap to the conclusion he’s irredeemable.

I borrowed some names from a really lousy movie about the parable, so the son is Micah, his dad is Eli, and his brother is Joram. Hope the names don’t confuse you.

So we’re at the part where Micah realizes he’s starving unnecessarily, ’cause he could go back home and beg a job off his dad. And that’s what he does.

Luke 15.20-25 KWL

20 “And getting up, he goes to his father.

 

“While he’s still far away, his father sees him coming,

and feels sympathetic.

Running to him, the father throws his arms round his neck,

and kisses him.

21 The son tells him, ‘Father, I sinned against heaven and before you.

I’m no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22 The father tells his servants,

‘Quick, bring out the best robe and clothe him.

Put a signet ring on his hand,

and sandals on his feet.

23 Bring out the well-fed calf. Kill it.

We who feast on it should celebrate!

24 For this, my son, is dead and alive again!

Had been lost, and is found!’

And they begin to celebrate.”

Part 3 is obviously about the other son. Jesus didn’t leave him out. There’s a lot to say to Christians about him and his attitude. But meanwhile let’s look at the father and his attitude. It’s meant to reflect God’s attitude, obviously. It should likewise reflect our attitude when the lost are found.

Grace and salvation in the present age.

Titus 2.11-15.

In Titus, Paul presents the Cretan apostle with instructions about how to choose Christian elders in the island’s churches—the mature folks who are gonna assume leadership roles, and guide the next generation to follow Jesus. It’s mainly about what sort of character these people are to have. They’re meant to be fruitful people—not necessarily talented people, educated people, or attractive people. Plenty of pagans put such people in leadership, and look where it gets ’em.

For that matter, plenty of Christians do it too, and this is why whenever pagans think of Christian bishops and pastors, they regularly think of cultish autocrats who charm their way into getting followers and money, but lack any good character. They think of nationalists, white supremacists, sexists who preach toxic masculinity instead of love, homophobes who preach persecution instead of love. They don’t think of people who follow Jesus, and love everyone like Jesus does; they think of hypocrites. And y’know, if we put people into Christian leadership despite anything Paul taught Timothy and Titus, these pagans aren’t wrong. Pagans may not know Jesus, but they like him—so they should like his followers when we’re trying to be like Jesus.

And when we have leaders who are serious about being like Jesus, and we have people who are serious about being like Jesus, we get a healthy church kinda like Paul described in today’s passage.

Titus 2.11-15 KWL

11 For God’s grace is now obvious:

Salvation to all people!

12 Educating us into renouncing impiety and worldly desires;

we should live soberly, fairly, and godly in the present age,

13 patiently awaiting “the blessed hope,”

the appearance of the glory

of our great God and savior, Christ Jesus.

14 He gives himself for us

so he might redeem us from all lawlessness,

and might purify his own unique people,

who are eager for good works.

15 Speak these things.

Encourage and rebuke, with all authority.

No one is allowed to dismiss you.

We get people who preach that God wants to save everybody. Everybody. EVERYBODY. He’s not only interested in the elect; he’s not only trying to save Jews and—whoops!—gentiles somehow got included. He intentionally wants everybody. He created everybody; he wants everybody.

And he wants everybody as-is. “Cleaning up” first implies it’s “cleaning up” which saved us; it’s not. In whatever state you’re in, repent and come to Jesus. Just bear in mind once you come to Jesus, he’s not gonna leave us as-is. The Holy Spirit’s gonna try to grow fruit in us. We’re expected to change for the better. But that comes later. In the meanwhile: As you are. As-is.

And the Spirit will educate us into being like Jesus. Tt 2.12 Ditching impiety, our natural tendency to not give a rip about what God thinks, but only what we think; we gotta live a new lifestyle which submits to God’s opinion about everything. Ditching worldly desires, our natural tendency to get comfortable, please our taste buds, get stoned, entertain ourselves, feel self-righteous, and do all of it at the expense of other people—while, paradoxically, seeking their approval. Nope; the Spirit encourages us to be sober, fair, and godly. We’re meant to become good people—not just by self-righteous Christian standards, but by everyone’s standards. Woe to you when only Christians think you’re a good guy, but everybody else thinks you’re a dick… ’cause yeah, you’re a dick.

Works righteousness: Salvation through good karma.

WORKS RIGHTEOUSNESS 'wərks raɪ.tʃəs.nəs noun. A right standing (with God or others) achieved through good deeds.

Works righteousness is how the world works. We tend to call it karma: If we want people to think of us as good, upstanding, deserving, even holy, we’ve gotta publicly do good deeds. Like doing charity work, making big donations, rescuing needy people, doing stuff for the public good. Not just the stuff ordinary citizens do, and should do, like follow the laws and not be jerks. It’s gotta be actions which go above and beyond.

Or (and this is the much harder way, although many people prefer it ’cause it’s quicker and passive) we’ve gotta suffer a catastrophic loss. One which totally doesn’t seem to fit our circumstances. Like getting a deadly disease, surviving a disaster, losing all your stuff in that disaster, losing all your family in that disaster… basically, Job’s story. He was a really good guy, yet lost all his kids and stuff in a single day. Jb 1 Stuff that’ll make people sympathetic, or even cry.

See, people presume the universe oughta balance things out. Good things should happen to good people, right?—and bad things to bad. When circumstances expose the truth—that the universe is random and meaningless—people are outraged at this illusion getting shattered, feel things are just wrong… and frequently take it upon themselves to fix things. (Then claim, “See? The universe balanced things out.” Yeah, not without human help.) People pour out support to the needy… and y’notice it’s sometimes entirely out of proportion. More than once I’ve seen a news story in which someone’s in need, and the public donated so much money, 100 other people could’ve been helped by it. Sometimes the needy people pass some of that generosity along; sometimes they don’t, but that seldom makes the news.

But as you can see, the world runs on works righteousness. On karma.

The kingdom of God, by contrast, runs on grace. God’s people don’t get what we deserve, much less what people think we merit. Instead we get what God wants to give us, and that’s a lot. Way more than we can ever ask or think. Ep 3.20 He wants to give us his kingdom.

For a whole lot of Christians this idea hasn’t entirely sunk in. When we come to Jesus, we bring our existing ideas, including our existing wrong ideas, with us. One of ’em is the idea we owe God big-time. After all, look how much he’s done for us! But we often conclude we gotta pay him back. You’ll even hear Christians claim this is why we’ve gotta do good deeds: We owe God. We’ll never ever be able to make it up to him; not even after a trillion years of good deeds… but we should try.

Which is simply nuts. And goes against everything God’s trying to teach us about grace. We’re supposed to give without expecting anything back, Lk 6.35 because that’s how our Father gives.

But karma is so pervasive in every human culture, even those of us who know God does grace instead of karma, try to make it up to him in big or small ways. We don’t always do stuff for God out of pure gratitude. We’re still trying to balance out our infinite karmic debt to an infinite God. Good luck with all that.

Nah. The reason we Christians are to be holy and good is because it’s what God instructs us to do. It’s not to earn anything, not to pay anything back, not for any other reason than love. If you love God, do as he says. Jn 14.15 If you don’t really, you won’t really. But forget about earning his love; you already have it. Forget about earning his favor; you already have it. That karma stuff only works on humans. Not God.

Holiness… versus goodness.

SANCTIFY 'sæŋ(k).tə.faɪ verb. Set apart as holy.

2. Have blessed, made legitimate through a religious sanction, or made to seem legitimate through custom and tradition.

3. Purify from sin.

[Sanctification sæŋ(k).tə.fə'keɪ.ʃən noun, sanctifier 'sæŋ(k).tə.faɪ(.ə)r noun.]

I bring up the popular definition of sanctify because I wanna point out what we English-speakers mean by sanctification, is not what the scriptures mean.

I’ve read loads of Christian books about sanctification. One in particular, which I read five years ago: The author went on and on and on about sin, how it taints humanity, and how Christians ought not do it. (And, well, duh.) But the more he wrote on the subject, the more obvious it became he was addressing his own particular hangups. Certain sins he found really nasty, so he spent a lot of time really pounding away at those sins like a carpenter trying to put thin nails into thick wood: Stop doing those things! You’re making baby Jesus cry.

Thing is, he wasn’t actually writing about sanctification. He was writing about goodness.

Christians mix the two ideas up all the time. Seriously, all the time. I challenge you to find a writing where the author recognizes there’s any difference between the two. And there is a difference. Holiness is about being set apart for God’s purposes. Holy means we’re not like anything else. That definition of sanctify I started this article with?—it’s definition #1, and only definition #1. The other definitions are the product of Christian popular culture. Christians are perfectly happy to settle for mere goodness.

But God tells us kids, “Be holy because I’m holy.” Lv 11.44-45, 1Pe 1.16 God’s different from everything else, and if we’re following him, the natural consequence is we would be different from everything else. And when the LORD said “be holy” in the scriptures, he wasn’t talking about goodness! Check out the context:

Leviticus 11.41-47 NASB

41 “Now every swarming thing that swarms on the earth is detestable, not to be eaten. 42 Whatever crawls on its belly, and whatever walks on all fours, whatever has many feet, in regard to every swarming thing that swarms on the earth, you shall not eat them, because they are detestable. 43 Do not make yourselves detestable through any of the swarming things that swarm; and you shall not make yourselves unclean with them so that you become unclean. 44 For I am the LORD your God. Consecrate yourselves therefore, and be holy, because I am holy. And you shall not make yourselves unclean with any of the swarming things that swarm on the earth. 45 For I am the LORD who brought you up from the land of Egypt, to be your God; so you shall be holy, because I am holy.”

46 This is the law regarding the animal and the bird, and every living thing that moves in the waters and everything that swarms on the earth, 47 to make a distinction between the unclean and the clean, and between the edible creature and the creature which is not to be eaten.

Yeah: God was talking about the kosher rules; about ritual cleanliness. Not goodness, not sins: Animals the Hebrews can eat, versus animals they can’t—because people of other nations eat any animals they please, with no thought to anything but their taste buds, and God didn’t want these particular Hebrews to be like any other nation. He wanted ’em unique.

He still wants us unique. Holy.

Christians who teach on sanctification, zero in on being good. That’s not nothing! We oughta be good. God is good, so we should be good like he is. When we’re not, we’re clearly not following him. I’m certainly not saying God’s okay with evil. But goodness is only a product of sanctification. It’s not the same thing.

So if we’re gonna be holy, we have to be more than merely good. We gotta be different.