John the baptist’s ministry, in 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯.

John 1.6-8, 15, 19-28.

In Matthew and Luke’s gospels, John the baptist comes across as—shall we say—hostile towards the religious folks who come to check him out.

Luke 3.7-9 Message

7 When crowds of people came out for baptism because it was the popular thing to do, John exploded: “Brood of snakes! What do you think you’re doing slithering down here to the river? Do you think a little water on your snakeskins is going to deflect God’s judgment? It’s your life that must change, not your skin. 8 And don’t think you can pull rank by claiming Abraham as ‘father.’ Being a child of Abraham is neither here nor there—children of Abraham are a dime a dozen. God can make children from stones if he wants. 9 What counts is your life. Is it green and flourishing? Because if it’s deadwood, it goes on the fire.”

To be fair, John was dealing with nationalists, people who presume they’re part of a righteous nation (or wanna make that nation “great again”) and that’s why God’s gonna bless and save them. They figured they were saved by virtue of being Abraham’s descendants. Lk 3.8 They figured they had nothing to repent of—and John’s baptism is all about repentance. It’s all about being good, not just looking good.

Hence John called ’em snakes. (Syriac ܐܟ݂ܶܕ݂ܢܶܐ/akedna, Greek ἐχιδνῶν/ehidnón, “[poisonous] snakes”; KJV “vipers.”) It’s intentionally meant to remind people of Satan. Nationalists figure they’re righteous, but regularly act devilish, because nationalism is usually racist and definitely devilish. The Judeans who came to John felt they had nothing to repent of—and John’s baptism is entirely about repentance.

But that’s the other two gospels. In John’s gospel, he comes across quite different. No it’s not a discrepancy. Real-life people aren’t two-dimensional! Sometimes we behave differently, depending on circumstances. Maybe this happened way earlier in John’s ministry, before he became jaded by myriads of hypocrites who accepted his baptism but never got any better. Maybe because these Pharisees, unlike the other Pharisees, actually weren’t hypocrites and legitimately wanted to know what John was about. Maybe they caught him on a really good day, when he’d found plenty of bugs and honey to eat, and the camelhair clothes finally stopped being itchy. I dunno.

In any event here’s how John says John the baptist greeted the folks sent to investigate him.

John 1.19-28 KWL

19And this is John’s testimony,

when the Judeans of Jerusalem

send priests and Levites out to him

so they could ask him, “Who are you¹?”

20John is in agreement with them,

and does not resist them,

and agrees with them:

“I’m not Messiah.”

21They ask John, “So… what, are you¹ Elijah?”

He says, “I’m not.”

“Are you¹ the Prophet?”

He answers, “No.”

22So they say, “Who are you¹?—

so we can give an answer to those who sent us.

What do you¹ say about yourself¹?”

23John is saying, “I’m

‘a voice crying out in the wilderness:

Straighten the Master’s path!’ Is 40.3

like the prophet Isaiah said.”

24Those who were sent are from the Pharisees,

25and are questioning John,

and are telling him, “So why do you¹ baptize,

if you’re¹ not Messiah nor Elijah nor the Prophet?”

26John answers them, saying, “I baptize in water.

In your² midst, one has stood among you².

You’ve² not known him.

27{He’s} the one coming after me,

{who has got in front of me}.

I’m not worthy to loose his sandal strap.”

28These events happen in Bethany-beyond-the-Jordan,

where John is baptizing.

In my previous article I discussed the three guys from the Pharisees’ End Times timeline whom John said he wasn’t—Messiah, Elijah, and the Prophet—and how Jesus himself later confirmed John actually is Elijah. Mt 17.10-13 Not literally; John’s a prophet like Elijah, and he fulfills every single End Times prophecy about Elijah—and if any present-day End Times prognosticator claims Elijah is yet to come, they evidently don’t respect what Jesus says on the matter. Only Jesus has yet to return. Elijah already has.

It’s 4 January. It’s still Christmas. Does this annoy you?

Back in 2016 my church decided it was time to begin our 21-day Daniel fast… on the very 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 Christmas.”

SHE. [irritated scoff]

Tell many a Christian today’s the 11th day of Christmas, and this is the response you’ll get: The irritated scoff. To their minds, Christmas ended last month, and good riddance. They were so done with the holiday once Christmas dinner was over. And if they weren’t, the hassle of returning their Christmas gifts—or the credit card bill—did it for ’em.

Like I said back in my advent article, a lot of Evangelicals have adopted the mindset our popular culture foists upon us. To them, the Christmas season begins Black Friday, ends 25 December, and the rest is just aftermath and cleanup. Put the decorations away as soon as possible, ’cause it’s time to concentrate on the new year. And the stores are already selling Valentine’s Day items. (“Already? Are you kidding me?”)

But if you’ve burnt out on Christmas, it’s because you’ve not really been celebrating Christmas. You’ve been celebrating the awful Mammonist substitute the stores, secular television, and government grade schools peddle. Our churches unwittingly help ’em do it. All of us perpetuate the idea of a one-day holiday, a frenzy of gifts and toys and events, and a slapped-on veneer of “Remember the reason for the season!”

In fact Christmas is primarily about how Christ the savior is born. If you’re doing Christmas correctly, and someone brings up the word “Christmas” after the 25th, that’s the mental image which should’ve immediately popped into your mind. Not decorations, toys, and obligations. Jesus has come.

If your first response was to scoff… you did it wrong.

What does your church believe?—and no, I don’t mean the pastors.

A few years ago a pastor friend of mine posted on social media, “One of the core values at our church is…” something. I don’t remember specifically what. Some virtuous practice, like generosity or frequent potlucks. Every church should have frequent potlucks.

But all I remember is immediately thinking, “No it’s not.”

Because it’s not.

I’ve no doubt it’s one of his core values. But he’s a pastor. He’s not the church.

I’ve no doubt he wants his church to have this value. Probably preaches it in his sermons, includes it in his vision statements, sticks it on the church website. Likely practices it in his personal life. But as I keep reminding Christians (and pastors!) the church is not its leadership. The church is people.

Our pastors might declare our churches and denominations hold to certain faith statements, certain official doctrines, certain core values, certain biblical principles… but unless they’ve taken a poll of the people to find out what we really believe, all they’re really stating is what they think ought to be our churches’ central convictions.

The actual central convictions? Bit messier.

Centuries ago, our Lord Jesus had his apostle John write messages to seven churches located in the eastern Roman Empire. If you read it, you’ll notice Jesus didn’t even bother to state ’em to the church leadership—who were probably following him just fine! Instead he bypassed the church supervisors and spoke straight to the angel over each church—the spirit whom he put in charge of spiritually defending his churches. (Who isn’t actually in charge of the church, ’cause angels help, not lead; ignore anything people claim to the contrary). Addressing the angel was Jesus’s way of addressing the people, not the leaders.

Here’s what he had to say to the people of the church of Ephesus:

Revelation 2.1-7 CSB

1 “Write to the angel of the church in Ephesus: Thus says the one who holds the seven stars in his right hand and who walks among the seven golden lampstands: 2 I know your works, your labor, and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate evil people. You have tested those who call themselves apostles and are not, and you have found them to be liars. 3 I know that you have persevered and endured hardships for the sake of my name, and you have not grown weary. 4 But I have this against you: You have abandoned the love you had at first. 5 Remember then how far you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first. Otherwise, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent. 6 Yet you do have this: You hate the practices of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.

7 “Let anyone who has ears to hear listen to what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who conquers, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.”

In this part of Revelation, lampstands represent the individual churches, Rv 1.20 and Jesus was threatening to end this church if they didn’t bother to follow him. They didn’t, so he eventually did.

And like I said earlier, the leadership of this church was probably following Jesus just fine! Sharing the gospel, serving the needy, loving their neighbors; all the stuff Christians oughta do. But they only made up maybe 20 percent of the church at best. The other 80 percent? They were the ones Jesus was critiquing for abandoning their first love, and slacking on good deeds. They did hate what certain heretics in their city were up to; Jesus hated that too; but it takes very little effort to hate stuff. It’s not that positive a thing to say about ’em.

Anyway back to my point: The leadership of our churches usually takes charge of presenting the public face of our churches. They put together the websites, publish the faith statements, show photos of the 20 percent of the church which actually participates in outreach and charity… but the great majority of the church? It’s embarrassing to say so, but they’re irreligious and fleshly, and have zero interest in following Jesus any better than they already barely do.

They’re why our supposedly “Christian” country doesn’t act it. They’re why our supposedly “Christian” churches don’t follow Christ all that much. Why the people of those churches can so easily be swayed by politicians and scam artists of low character, and think they’re right with God because they hate particular sins. But do they do anything Jesus teaches? Meh; when the mood strikes.

Jesus wants us Christians to be fruity.

Yes, I know what “fruity” tends to mean in our culture. No, I don’t care. I’m taking the word back. Fruity fruity fruity.

Fruit is a metaphor we see all over the New Testament for behavior. The way Christ Jesus describes it, if you’re a good tree, you produce good fruit, and a rotten tree produces bad fruit. I’ll quote him:

Luke 6.43-45 NRSVue

43 “No good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit; 44 for each tree is known by its own fruit. For people do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they pick grapes from a bramble bush. 45 The good person out of the good treasure of the heart produces good, and the evil person out of evil treasure produces evil, for it is out of the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.”

His apostle Paul didn’t care to even call bad behavior “fruit,” preferring to call ’em “works of the flesh.” Ga 5.19 But the scriptures’ general idea is there’s good fruit and bad. People are fruity in one way or the other.

And if we’re truly following Jesus, we should see the good stuff. Right?

John 15.1-8 NRSVue

1 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. 2 He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. 3 You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. 6 Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7 If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8 My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.”

In the quote above, it sounds like it’s possible to produce no fruit, good or bad. Which isn’t better. Jesus tells another story about a fruitless tree:

Luke 13.6-9 NRSVue

6 Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the man working the vineyard, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ 8 He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good, but if not, you can cut it down.’ ”

Those who produce no fruit—nothing God can use, anyway—are getting disposed of. “Gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned,” is how Jesus put it. Jn 15.6 Being fruitless is functionally the same as producing bad fruit. God wants fruit!

So if we truly follow Jesus, we oughta be super fruity. Our lifestyles should be filled with christlike behavior. Filled with proof of God’s influence on our lives: We should share his character traits, which Paul called “fruit of the Spirit.” Ga 5.22

And yeah, to some degree we should also see some supernatural stuff. Like miracles, prophecy, healing, and so forth, ’cause God’s kingdom isn’t all about philosophy and talk, but God’s power. 1Co 4.19 Stuff happens when God’s among us. But when he’s not—’cause we won’t include him and never bother to follow him—stuff doesn’t happen, and fruit isn’t visible.

So when a person claims to be Christian, claims to follow Jesus, yet their lifestyle is no different than any pagan who has no relationship with God at all—worse, if they’re jerks, or downright evil, and try to justify their dark behavior and beliefs with Christian-sounding excuses—we’re dealing with hypocrites at best, antichrists at worst. Fakes either way.

Religious. Not “spiritual.”

Happy new year, happy 8th day of Christmas, and happy Feast of the Circumcision (’cause if Jesus was circumcised on the eighth day, that’d be today, right?). At the beginning of each year I figure it’s a good idea to remind readers of the point of TXAB, i.e. the Christ Almighty Blog. And remind myself too: I’ve seen many a blog which began as one thing, evolved into another, and it wasn’t an improvement.

This blog is about following Jesus the Nazarene, our God-anointed king and Messiah, or Christ. The first of his followers became known as Χριστιανούς/Hristianús, “Christ-followers,” or Christians, because that’s what we’re meant to do: We follow Jesus. We teach what he taught, believe what he tells us, do as he says, and grow good fruit.

Except some Christians don’t follow Jesus. Yet claim the title anyway.

You see them everywhere in my homeland of the United States. We claim to be Christian, but we’re not Christ-followers; we’re fans. We really like him! We claim to love him—or at least love him as we’ve re-imagined him, usually to suit our prejudices, politics, and all the sins we’re hoping to get away with. We surround ourselves with other like-minded hypocrites who claim they know Jesus and really don’t, and thereby become Christianist. As revealed by the fact all their fruit is “fleshly.”

There are so many of these misbehaving “Christians,” it’s no wonder various Christians insist, “No, don’t call me Christian; I’m a Christ-follower. Call me that.” They want it very clear they’re legitimately, honestly trying to follow Jesus. They’re not just in it because “Jesus” hates what they hate, and justifies their various hatreds.

And the Christianists claim they’re totally following Jesus too! (Certainly they’ll claim it whenever somebody does something they consider sinful.) But y’know, whenever you drop an authentic God-encounter on ’em, either they immediately recognize their errors and repent… or they lose their minds in horror and offense, and insist this has to be some kind of devilish trick. Yep, given the opportunity they’ll commit straight-up blasphemy of the Holy Spirit, which is why God doesn’t drop that on them as often as he could; why push ’em into sin? But we needn’t even bring up their near-blasphemies. Fleshly works prove ’em as frauds quite effectively.

Well. Once we quit following the crowd and follow Jesus whithersoever he leads, we call this being religious.

Scriptures for advent.

Each advent season I focus on scriptures which are related to advent topics. Namely Jesus’s first coming, and his second. So expect to see some such articles… but if you can’t wait that long, here’s some stuff I’ve written already.

Nativity stories.

Jesus’s genealogy, in Matthew. Mt 1.1-17 In which Jesus’s messianic credentials are established.

One heck of a birth announcement. Lk 1.5-25 Gabriel’s announcement to the father of John the baptist.

How Mary became Jesus’s mother. Lk 1.26-38 What sort of person God selected as his mother.

Mary’s visit to Elizabeth. Lk 1.39-56 When Jesus’s mother and John’s mother both prophesied about his coming.

The birth of John the baptist. Lk 1.57-80 And his father’s prophecy about just what sort of man he’d be.

How Joseph became Jesus’s father. Mt 1.18-25 Not foster father; adoptive father. God commissioned Joseph to raise his Son.

Joseph, father of Jesus, prophet. Mt 1.18-21 God didn’t just choose anyone to raise his son; he chose someone who actively listened to him.

Christ the Savior is born. Lk 2.1-7 The political circumstances at the time Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

The sheep-herders’ vision of the angels. Lk 2.8-20 Jesus came to save everyone. Here, some of the everyone hear the good news.

The prophets who recognized Jesus. Lk 2.21-40 In temple, two prophets confirm who Jesus is to his parents.

The magi show up. Mt 2.1-3 How Zoroastrian priests used astrology to find Jesus. (And no, this doesn’t mean we‘re to do that.)

Pinpointing Messiah’s birthplace. Mt 2.3-6 Why on earth did the priests tell their murderous king where Messiah would be born?

Messianic prophecies. (Or not.)

The first prophecy of a savior. Ge 3.14-15 After humanity messed up the universe, God indicated he has a plan to fix it.

The star coming out of Jacob. Nu 24.17 Centuries before Israel had a king, Balám predicted one.

The prophet like Moses. Dt 18.15-19. Moses spoke of prophets in general, but this particularly applies to Jesus.

The heir to David’s throne. 2Sa 7.1-17 The LORD told David his throne would last forever. In Jesus, it does.

Not allowed to rot. Ps 16.10 Jesus wasn’t in the grave long enough to rot… which resembles a line in a psalm.

Messiah and Melchizedek. Ps 110.4 How God’s chosen king is like this obscure ancient gentile king.

Jesus, our Immanuel. Is 7.14 How Jesus is like a prophecy about an oddly-named little boy.

The Son who was given us. Is 9.6-7 As disaster drew near to 8th-century BC Israel, Isaiah foretold a Messiah who’d set everything right.

One who brings justice to the gentiles. Is 42.1-4, Mt 12.14-20 A passage Jesus fulfilled—which is about Israel, but Jesus actually does it.

Plucking Jesus’s beard. Or not. Is 50.6 In stories of Jesus’s passion, we regularly hear of people tearing out his beard. It’s not in the gospels; it’s in Isaiah—and he’s speaking of himself.

Our suffering servant. Is 53 ’Cause usually people try to conquer the world by defeating others, not by suffering.

Rachel weeping for her children. Jr 31.15-17 The destruction of Ramáh is a lot like when Herod massacred Bethlehem’s children.

The Son of Man. Da 7.13-14 Jesus’s favorite description of himself comes from a Danielic vision.

“Out of Egypt I called my Son.” Ho 11.1 How fulfillment isn’t the same as a prediction coming to pass.

Christ is born in Bethlehem. Mc 5.1-4 Why the scholars figured Messiah came from that little town.

Is there a prophecy of Jesus’s hometown? Mt 2.23 No; it’s wordplay. But wordplay can be a type of fulfillment.

On the first advent.

When the fullness of time came, God sent his Son. Ga 4.1-5 God had good reason for delaying the first coming till that time.

The Carmen Christi: When Jesus made himself nothing. Pp 2.5-11 An early hymn about how God became human.

The ikon of the invisible God. Cl 1.15-20 Y’know how the LORD forbade graven images? It’s because he reserved that for himself.

Foreknown before the world was founded. 1Pe 1.17-21 The coming of Christ Jesus was always the plan. Not the backup plan.

The living word. Whom the apostles have seen. 1Jn 1.1-4 These guys weren’t writing hypothetically about God; they knew Jesus personally.

On the second advent.

The Son of Man’s returning. And everyone will see it. Mt 24.23-28 It won’t be any secret rapture; it won’t happen quitely in some obscure corner of the world; it won’t be something only Christians can see.

Jesus describes his second coming. Mk 13.24-27 After Jesus describes the great tribulation, he talks about his return.

When is Jesus returning? Mk 13.32-37 Jesus didn’t say. So watch out for his return.

The Five Stupid Teenagers Story. Mt 25.1-15 Don’t get tricked into missing the second coming.

The Lambs and Kids Story. Mt 25.31-46 Those who are headed for the kingdom are already acting as if they’re in it.

The Talents Story. Mt 25.13-30 What’re we doing with our king’s investments in our lives?

The Wheat and Darnel Story. Mt 13.24-30, 13.36-43 Till the second coming, we gotta put up with the weeds.

When Jesus got raptured. Ac 1.6-11 What goes up must come down.

Apostasy before the second coming. 2Th 2.1-12 Before Jesus returns, there’ll be a lawbreaker running amok.

Set your hearts for Jesus’s return. Jm 5.7-8 The End takes place on Jesus’s timetable, not ours.

No, seriously: When’s Jesus returning? He’s taking forever! 2Pe 3.1-9 I know; it’s been 20 centuries. Don’t give up hope.

There’s a nice pile of reading material there. More to come.

Happy holidays!

In the United States it’s the holiday season. As soon as Halloween is over, out come the Christmas sales, and people start putting mint in everything. You know what we’re ramping up towards.

Javascript isn’t working this Christmas!

Some elf overdid it on the sugar.

I get why the holidays bug people. It’s the commercialism. The merchandising. The obligatory traditions which hold no more meaning for you. The mandatory functions which aren’t any fun, like the Christmas pageants where you gotta watch kids and earnest church members, who have no business singing in public, charitably permitted to nonetheless sing in public. Or the naked, unadulterated greed which sucks the soul out of this time of year.

It’s why I advise Christians to redirect our attention to Advent, the four weeks before Jesus’s nativity. Eastern churches start it even earlier, 40 days before Christmas, and make a fast of it, like Lent. Which you could do, if you’re into fasting; I’m not. But Advent’s purpose isn’t to deprive ourselves so Christmas seems way better by comparison. Nor is it to ramp up the pressure to make ready for a super-blowout Christmas Day. Properly it’s the time to set our eyes on Jesus. He came once before… and he’s coming back again.

#Blessed.

I have certain people whom I follow on social media, who love love love the hashtag #blessed. They have a nice meal, or get a nice view of the sunset, so they post photos of it on Instagram, tagged #blessed. They find a sweet parking spot in front of their building, so they xeet about it and tag it #blessed. The kids achieve something at school, or make ’em a craft, or otherwise give ’em a fun day instead of screaming their head off because Dad won’t give ’em Froot Loops for dinner; it’s on Facebook, tagged #blessed.

Every time they feel blessed, they gotta post and tag it. Even for little minor stupid stuff. “Drove to work; nothing but green lights all the way! #blessed”

I know what brought this on for one of ’em… ’cause she said so. A few months ago her pastor challenged the people of her church to notice all the blessings God sent their way. He blesses us a lot, y’know. And a lot of us first-worlders are mighty big ingrates about it. We presume a smooth and easy life is the way things naturally oughta go. As if our ancestors didn’t struggle mighty hard (and take advantage of lot of other, weaker people) so we descendants could enjoy peace and prosperity and comfort. Anyway, the pastor told ’em to be mindful of their blessings. So she’s trying. She looks for them. No surprise, they’re everywhere. And she’s trying to be grateful to God for them.

Thing is, some months ago she took her husband to this really fancy restaurant for his birthday. She posted a photo on Instagram wearing a nice dress, with a nice plate of shrimp in front of her, nice wine, nice view of the ocean behind her, and the tag #blessed. (I’ll just point out her husband, whose day and life they were celebrating, isn’t even in the photo. Likely he took it.)

Okay: God didn’t grant her this experience. Her husband didn’t surprise her with it. She planned it; she paid for it. I hope she could afford it, and doesn’t have to pay off credit cards for the next several months, but even so: Is this a blessing?

Some would say yes, others no. One could argue the blessing comes from being able to have such experiences: She has a job which can fund these activities, grant the free time, and a kind husband whose life she’d like to celebrate. Although one doesn’t have to celebrate it in that particular way. Nor post a selfie on Instagram.

I can speculate about her motives, but for pagans it’s way more obvious: They’re totally showing off. “Lookit how #blessed I am.” They get to eat the fanciest food, hang out with the coolest people, smoke the finest weed, enjoy the priciest hotels. They’ll even take selfies and tag ’em #blessed even though there’s nothing in them but themselves—because they’re showing off their “blessing” of being attractive. It’s not about gratitude; it’s about ostentatious wealth.

Since pagans have a deficient relationship with God (as even Christians will when we get irreligious, or take God and our salvation for granted, but mostly I’m talking about their distorted beliefs about God), when they tag themselves #blessed, it’s not any acknowledgement of the Father of lights who grants us every good and perfect gift. Jm 1.17 Most of the time they’re thanking the universe—the impersonal cosmos, which they imagine is granting ’em good karma in exchange for… what, all the good vibes they put out there? Assuming they even put any good vibes out there other than happy Instagram photos.

Are these people blessed? Did God grant ’em these blessings? Or did they really just bless themselves?

Trusting God… versus trusting doctrine.

I’ve posted before about the “doctrines of grace,” as Calvinists call ’em—the things they believe about God and how he saves us. The doctrine they focus on most is God’s sovereignty, which they believe is so absolute, it overrides everything else: Everything in the universe happens because God decreed it.

Not merely allowed it to happen, even though he could totally intervene if he wants, ’cause he’s almighty and unlimited. Determined it would happen. Everything happens because God has a singular plan for the universe, meticulously decided what’d happen and what wouldn’t, and it’s playing out right now. It’s all part of the plan. Trust the plan. Trust God.

Calvinists call this “the doctrine of sovereignty”—doctrine being one of Christianity’s formal fixed beliefs. It’s something they insist Christians must believe. Not should believe; not can believe, ’cause it’s optional. To them, it’s not. You must believe it, if you call yourself Christian. If you don’t—if in fact you teach otherwise—you’ve gone wrong. You’re heretic. Or worse, you’re not even Christian.

So since I dare to say the “doctrine of sovereignty” is fatalistic rubbish which comes more from Platonism than the scriptures, certain Calvinists are convinced I’m heretic. Or, again, not even Christian.

One of ’em put it to me thisaway recently: “I trust God. You don’t.”

No, you trust your doctrine. Which isn’t God. Although you might not recognize the difference. There is one, y’know.

The word became flesh.

John 1.14-18.

Historically we Christians have had the darnedest time translating and explaining this passage. While it’s written in really simple Greek, it’s deep. It’s profound. It tells us the word of the LORD, the Son of the Father, God of God, God from the Father’s womb (usually translated “bosom” like the KJV, because human fathers don’t have wombs, and any language which gives God feminine qualities tends to creep out certain preachers), the one-who-comes-after-me who’s really the one-who-came-before-me, grace and truth personified, the visible image of the invisible God Cl 1.15—became flesh.

Flesh. Meat. Blood and bone and muscle and tissue and nerves and fluids. An animal. Yet God.

People still find this idea alarming. Even blasphemous. I keep coming across pagans who insist God cannot be mortal. God can’t bleed. God can’t die. God can’t suffer from the same limitations as humans; he’s gotta be mightier, if not almighty, or he’s not really God. Or no longer God; he got banished from heaven like Thor from Asgard in his first movie, and lost his powers till he gets ’em back with good karma. (Wait, didn’t Satan get banished from heaven? Meh; nevermind.)

It’s why heresies keep cropping up to claim Jesus isn’t really flesh. He only appeared to be human, but peel off his human mask (eww) and you’ll find a God under it. He only looked like meat and bone, but he’s really an immortal spirit. He only looked real and physical, but he’s really a mass hallucination which confused the whole world, or at least his parents, siblings, those 12 guys who kept following him around, the Romans who killed him, and the senators who put him in a tomb. He only looked like a man, but was a superman, demigod, alien, hybrid, or new superior species. You know, the usual new-agey bulls--t.

But nope, he’s human. Fully, permanently human. And God.

John 1.14-18 KWL

14The word becomes flesh and encamps with us,

and we get a good look at his significance—

significance like we’d see in the only begotten son of a father,

full of grace and truth.

15John witnesses about the word,

and has called out, saying,

“This is the one of whom I say,

‘The one coming after me has got in front of me,’

because he’s before me.”

16For all of us receive things out of the word’s fullness.

Grace after grace:

17The Law, which Moses gave;

grace and truth, which Christ Jesus comes to be.

18Nobody’s ever seen God.

The only Son, God who’s in the Father’s womb

this one explains God.