How Jesus submits to his Father.

John 5.30.

After Jesus cured some guy, the Judeans objected because he did it on sabbath, so Jesus went into a teaching about how he works because his Father works—and he’s also gonna judge the world at the End.

He ends this declaration with this statement, which I figured I’d discuss on its own because it has to do with how Jesus submits to his Father. Submission is a loaded concept for certain Christians—especially since some of ’em are interpreting the idea in ways which wind up going heretic. So it’s turned this statement into a loaded one.

Statement first though.

John 5.30 KWL

“I can’t do anything on my own.

I judge just as I hear,

and my judgment is fair

because I don’t seek my own will,

but the will of the One who sends me.”

Just to remind you: Separation of powers is an American thing. Our executives don’t judge, and our judges don’t carry out their rulings but have cops and marshals who do that. But that’s obviously not how ancient kings work. Kings were the supreme rulers of their land, and were by themselves the supreme court—if a king ruled, there’s no overruling him.

Our ideas of plaintiffs and defendants, who got to argue their case before the judge; of laws and precedents the king was supposed to follow: Those are important. If the king actually follows those things, you’ll get a fair trial. But despots don’t care about any of those things, and do as they please. Rogue Supreme Courts ignore the Constitution and precedents, ignore the people who argued in front of them, rule according to their agendas, and make up ridiculous arguments to defend their rulings. Ancient and medieval kings didn’t even bother to defend themselves; they figured they had every right to rule as they pleased. Fairness? Fairness doesn’t matter.

In comparison, Jesus says he’s not a despot. He doesn’t judge on his own. He judges as he hears, meaning he listens to the plaintiffs and defendants before him. He follows a Law which defines good and evil. He takes God’s will into consideration; not his own.

As any good Israeli king should. As Solomon did. And of course, as Romans didn’t—they might be bothered to have fair trials when it was a fellow Roman on trial, like Paul, but if you didn’t have citizenship they’d simply torture you, as they almost did Paul. Ac 22.24-27 Or they’d delay your trial ’cause they wanted a bribe, likewise as they did with Paul. Ac 24.25 Right here, Jesus is contrasting his fair and righteous rule with that of Romans—and corrupt judges, like the senators who later sentenced him to death.

Because being a fair judge is what God wants. God cares about truth. God doesn’t want people unjustly punished and penalized. God doesn’t want the guilty to go free, the evildoer to unrepentantly get away with it. Corrupt judges look the other way because they favor the rich and powerful, and maybe want their wealthy friends to take ’em on vacations and help ’em buy RVs. Jesus in contrast will always rule fairly. Always.

But let’s be honest: Jesus totally has an agenda. He’s totally biased. He admits it. Ignore all those Christians who claim Jesus and God are the only unbiased judges in the universe; of course the LORD is biased. Fortunately for us, grace means he’s biased in our favor, which is why Jesus says in this very same passage, “I promise you the one who hears my word, and trusts the One who sends me, has life in the age to come and doesn’t go into judgment.” Jn 5.24 KWL Those who follow Jesus don’t get a trial! They go straight into the age to come. That’s the team we wanna be on.

So what other bias does Jesus confess to? He says it right there in today’s verse: “I don’t seek my own will, but the will of the One who sends me.” He’s not a despot who does whatever he wants; he only wants to do as the Father wants. The Father is a righteous judge; therefore the Son’s gonna be a righteous judge.

If you’re anxious Jesus is gonna be furious at sin, much like angry preachers are… well okay, he certainly hates sin. Especially when people exploit the poor and needy, and figure it’s okay because they went through all the proper religious motions to wipe out all their bad karma. The LORD already said, through Isaiah, he’s not listening to such people. Is 1.15 He wants ’em to repent!

Therefore he’s gonna be a righteous judge—who may be exorbitantly lenient on those who follow him, but judges everyone else fairly, on merit. And while there are many Christians who insist only the people who follow Jesus are gonna enter the age to come, I’m pretty sure Jesus is gonna extend grace to a lot more people than they’re expecting. People who honestly didn’t know any better; people who died before hearing the gospel, so they’re not penalized for rejecting it; babies who died before they could hear it, of course. Jesus is far more gracious than angry preachers. Or me!—there’s lots of people I wouldn’t let in, but thankfully I’m not the judge.

Terrified of God-experiences.

Here’s the dirty little secret you’re gonna find among the vast majority of people who insist we shouldn’t seek God-experiences: The very idea of coming face-to-face with the living God? Scares the poop out of ’em.

The reason they insist God doesn’t appear to people anymore, is because they’re hoping to goodness he doesn’t. They absolutely don’t want him to. Frightens them.

They’re also extremely nervous about the second coming. They might talk, and talk a lot, about how it may happen in their lifetime… but they really don’t want it to. That’s half the reason they’ve embraced End Times interpretations in which certain things must take place before Jesus’s return (even though nothing else has to): They want a heads-up. They wanna know he might be coming soon so they can get ready. Not because they’re sinning themselves sore and they wanna clean up first; mainly it’s to brace themselves for the absolutely petrifying prospect of encountering our Lord in person.

And of course they’re extremely nervous about death. Same reason.

Why are they afraid of God? Lots of reasons; none good. I suspect most of it comes from growing up, or worshiping, with Christians who don’t do grace. Been there! Instead of being introduced to a loving God who wants to save us, who already has a positive attitude towards us, who doesn’t merely have infinite patience for us but wants us to be with him… they’re taught all sorts of other unhealthy, dysfunctional things about God.

Mainly that God hates sin. That he can’t abide it; it absolutely cannot be in his holy presence. And since we humans are sinners… well when we stand before him, it’s not gonna be pleasant, is it? He’ll be furious with us. Good thing Jesus steps between his holy rage and us, and stops his Father from vaporizing us with a syllable. Although sometimes they’ve not been taught that either; sometimes Jesus is the one with all the holy rage, slaughtering sinners until the blood and gore is waist-deep over the land.

Seriously, that’s what they expect a God-experience to consist of. So of course they’re scared witless! They don’t want any such encounter with an wrathful God. They think we’re nuts for wanting to go there… and when we tell ’em how gracious God is, they’re pretty sure that can’t be a legitimate God-encounter, because God shoulda burnt us to a crisp. Must be the devil tricking people into believing God’s some kind of infinitely tolerant liberal. That way when Jesus finally does appear, these fools will run to embrace him, only to get butchered along with all the other sinners.

Yep, those graceless Christians really did the devil’s work on ’em—getting them to be terrified of the One who loves them the most in the universe.

Pretentious Christians and persecuted apostles.

1 Corinthians 4.6-13.

Every once in a while Paul uses irony—rhetorically says the opposite of what he actually means in order to reveal its ridiculousness. Irony is best known in its angry form, sarcasm. Yep, there’s sarcasm in the bible. ’Cause sometimes its writers get angry at injustice, sin, and stupidity—and the Corinthians were being kinda stupid by dividing themselves into factions. They should know better than to do this; they should be more spiritually mature than this! But they weren’t.

I myself don’t encourage Christians to get too sarcastic. Few to none of us have the self-control necessary to wield sarcasm safely. Contrary to those folks who say, “Sarcasm is my spiritual gift,” no it’s not. It’s a form of anger, and seldom a healthy form. I won’t even say Paul and Sosthenes were exhibiting a healthy form of it here. They were understandably irritated at the Corinthians right about now in their letter, but I’m pretty sure this passage alienated the Corinthians more than it got ’em to repent. (As is hinted by 2 Corinthians.)

My translation of the passage first, and I’ll expound on it afterward.

1 Corinthians 4.6-13 KWL

6I use the example of these things—

of myself and Apollos—

for you, fellow Christians,

so you might learn from us the saying:

“No more than what was written,”

so you don’t inflate one over another any more:

7What makes you special?

What do you have that you weren’t given?—

if it was given to you, why boast like it wasn’t given to you?

8Now you have enough?

Now you’re wealthy?

You rule like kings without us?

I wish you ruled like kings,

so we might rule like kings with you,

9for I think God puts us apostles on the lowest level,

like death-row inmates,

since we become entertainment to the world,

to angels and to humans.

10We are morons because of Christ.

And you are wise in Christ!

We, weak. You, strong!

You, glorious. We, dishonored.

11Even now, we still hunger and thirst and are naked,

and get punched, and are homeless,

12and are exhausted from manual labor.

We bless while we get told off.

We put up with persecution.

13We help others while getting slandered.

We become what the world cleans off their shoes;

even now, the scum of everything.

Like I said, the apostles used a lot of irony here: What makes the Corinthians special? Why do they boast about blessings as if they earned ’em? Why do they think they get to live their best lives, while at the very same time, the apostles feel like they’re living their very worst lives? What’s up with that?

And why does American Christianity consistently act exactly the same way as these dense Corinthian a--holes?

On judging your leaders. (As we should!)

1 Corinthians 4.1-5.

Paul and Sosthenes end chapter 3 of 1 Corinthians thisaway:

1 Corinthians 3.22-23 KWL

22Whether it’s Paul, Apollos, Kifa,

the world, life, death, the present, the future—

everything belongs to all of you.

23And you belong to Christ,

and Christ belongs to God.

I bring this up ’cause the next passage starts with οὕτως/útos, “therefore,” and a previous pastor of mine was extremely fond of saying, “Whenever you see a ‘therefore’ in the bible, read the verses before it so you’ll know what it’s there for.” The apostles wrote about how there shouldn’t be factions in Christ’s body period, much less fighting over one apostle or another, since all the apostles work for Christ anyway.

Likewise there’s nothing wrong with listening to multiple apostles! You can listen to Paul and Apollos; you don’t have to choose one or the other. You can listen to Kifa (which is Simon Peter’s Syriac nickname Jn 1.42) too. And the other guys who wrote the New Testament. And the great saints who followed Jesus after them, if they have anything which still encourages us to follow Jesus. And your pastor. And your favorite Christian authors, Christian preachers, Christian podcasters, Christian bloggers. We all work for Jesus.

Well… assuming we do work for Jesus. For that, you gotta use your noggin and first make make sure we do. Make sure we’re producing good fruit. Double-check everything we say against God’s character and the bible. And if we’re making honest mistakes, be gracious… and if we’re not being so honest, or hard-headedly demand you’re the problem, and how dare you critique the Lord’s anointed: Yeah, you need to keep far, far away from such people. Not every self-proclaimed Christian is all that Christian.

Wait, is it okay for us to judge Christian leaders? Well of course it is. I bring it up ’cause it’s right there in today’s passage.

1 Corinthians 4.1-5 KWL

1For this reason, people* should consider us

like Christ’s subordinates,

and managers of God’s revealed mysteries.

2Here in addition, it’s a requirement for managers

that one should find they have faith.

3To me, this is the smallest thing,

that I should be judged by all of you,

or by a day in a human court.

But I don’t judge myself either,

4for I didn’t know anything on my own.

But I was justified out of this:

The Master is the one judging me.

5Therefore judge nothing before the right time—

which is whenever the Master might come.

He will give light to what’s hidden in the dark,

and will reveal the plans of people’s hearts,

and then a commendation will come to each person from God.

Baptizing babies, versus baptizing believers.

As I wrote yesterday, when I was a baby I was baptized. My grandparents’ church believed in the practice of baptizing babies. The formal term for this is pedobaptism, although frequently—even among Americans!—you’re gonna see the British spelling and pronunciation, paedobaptism 'pi.doʊ.bæp.tɪ.zəm Mainly because, I suspect, when you talk about pedo– anything, people immediately think of pedophilia, and we’re not going there. But paedo– stuff reminds people of pediatricians, and they’re okay! So let’s talk paedobaptism then.

Baby baptism, or infant baptism, is the standard in older churches. They figure we, as Christians, have a covenant with God. And exactly like the ancient Israelis, part of that covenant obligates us to make sure our descendants grow up to follow God. The Israelis (and the Jews today) ritually circumcised their baby boys as their way of declaring, “This kid’s gonna grow up to follow God,” so paedobaptists baptize their baby boys and girls as a way of declaring the very same thing.

It took a few centuries for baby baptism to become the standard, but it’s locked in now. Orthodox, Catholics, and Ethiopians do it; Lutherans, Anglicans, and Moravians do it; and some Presbyterians, Methodists, Nazarenes, and Congregationalists do it—it’s become a controversy in their churches. The reason for the controversy is the Anabaptist movement. The ana– prefix means “re–,” because all the first Anabaptists were originally baptized as babies, figured that didn’t count, and got re-baptized.

The Anabaptists started in the early 1500s: A number of central European churches decided one shouldn’t be baptized until we make a conscious decision to follow Jesus. It’s a view which kinda makes sense—why baptize a baby who may grow up to never follow Jesus? I mean, your parents might intend to raise you Christian, but you have other ideas… and for that matter, your parents might change their minds and raise you as nothing whatsoever, much as some of my Christian family members have.

Perhaps you’ve encountered this phenomenon—I certainly have—where people don’t follow Jesus at all, yet imagine they’re Christian because their parents had ’em baptized. So if you ask ’em, they’ll tell you, “Oh, I believe in Jesus”—but they don’t know what he teaches, don’t produce good fruit, aren’t religious at all, and aren’t even good people. In what way are they Christian? Well they were baptized.

Anabaptist churches still exist, but the Anabaptist idea of believer baptism (or if you wanna use the formal term, credobaptism) was adopted by lots of Protestant churches. Namely the Baptists. And like I said, it’s become a controversy among some Protestants: Some of the churches which still do baby baptism have a noisy faction which wants ’em to stop it. Presbyterian churches especially; Jean Calvin believed in baby baptism, but a whole lot of Presbyterians have adopted the Anabaptist view.

I was baptized Catholic, but I was raised in believer-baptism churches, and still go to those churches. So my custom is believer baptism. The Anabaptist view is what I was taught, it’s what I’m pretty sure the scriptures encourage, and I think it makes way more sense.

But honestly… I read Calvin’s Institutes. I can see the point of view of those Christians who prefer baby baptism. And if there’s deliberately a later ritual in which those people who were baptized as babies can confirm they really do intend to follow Jesus… I don’t really have a problem with it. The important thing is you’re following Jesus. If you’re not, neither type of baptism matters, ’cause you’re not Christian!

I know, I know; it’s a controversy, so people are gonna demand I take sides, and preferably theirs. And demand I get enraged at the folks on the other side. Nope! Follow Jesus either way, and I don’t have a problem. Escalate this debate into a holy war, and I have a big problem—with you.

Rebaptism: Getting wet again.

When I was a baby, I was baptized. My grandparents were Roman Catholic; not good Catholics, but Catholic enough to want their first grandchild baptized. So I was.

Mom later became Christian. She doesn’t count her Catholic upbringing, ’cause she doesn’t feel she committed herself to Jesus till adulthood. I became Christian soon after. And our church was having a baptismal service, so the two of us decided to get baptized—her at 28, and me at 7.

Had we been in a Catholic church, we’d’ve learned about their sacrament of confirmation: You confess your faith in Christ Jesus, your bishop anoints you with oil (representing the Holy Spirit, who comes to indwell you when you believe in Jesus), and now your baptism counts. Now you’re Christian.

But of course I didn’t know any of that stuff. I only knew what my Protestant church taught me: When you come to Jesus, get baptized! So I did. Got rebaptized.

Lots of Christians get rebaptized. I’ve watched many of ’em do it:

• People who were baptized as infants into the Catholic, Orthodox, Lutheran, or Presbyterian church, who later decide infant baptism doesn’t count; they wanna be baptized as believers.
• People who were baptized, but later slid away from Jesus, and wanna get devout and rededicate themselves to him, so they figure they oughta be baptized again.
• People who leave a heretic church, and figure that church’s baptisms don’t count, so they want a baptism which does count.
• People who just wanna. Their kids are getting baptized, so they wanna be baptized too as a good example. Or someone’s holding a baptism at a cool location, like the Jordan River in Israel, and they want the memory of getting baptized there.

For these and all sorts of other reasons, people get rebaptized.

Yeah, there are certain Christians who think this is completely unnecessary. I’m one of them. But at the same time, I also think it’s harmless. You wanna be baptized again?—go ahead and get baptized again! Doesn’t offend God; doesn’t hurt anyone.

(That is, unless you take a wired microphone into the baptismal with you, which’ll kill you, so don’t do that. But otherwise, go right ahead.)

Dispensationalists and infallibility.

So here’s a weird little phenomenon I’ve discovered. I’ve actually seen it many, many times throughout my life, but didn’t recognize what was underneath it till recently.

I was talking to a fellow Christian a few weeks ago; we’ll call him Ayokunle. He’s dispensationalist, which means he believes God has saved people in many different ways throughout history. Darbyists believe God used six different ways, ’cause we’re in the sixth dispensation. But most of ’em figure there are at least two dispensations—one before Jesus, one after Jesus. Before Jesus atoned for our sins, they figure God saved people because they were good—if they followed the Law, God saved ’em, and if they didn’t, he didn’t.

Is this true? Not at all. God saves people by his grace, and he’s always saved people by his grace. Paul of Tarsus’s whole argument to the Galatians about why they needed to stop it with the legalism, was that God’s never saved anyone by good works. Abraham included! We’re right with God because we trust him, not because we followed commandments. Ga 2.16 If we ever could be saved that way, Jesus died for nothing. Ga 2.21

Anyway, my discussion with Ayokunle is because he loves to quote the old saying, “God works all things together for our good.” I’ve written on it elsewhere, and it doesn’t mean what he thinks it means. I told him so.

ME. “There’s an entire book of the bible which refutes you. Ecclesiastes.”

HE. “Hm?”

ME. “ ‘Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.’ Ec 1.2 Vanities have no value. They mean nothing. They’re meaningless. But nothing God does is meaningless.”

HE. “Ecclesiastes?”

ME. “It’s a good read. Check it out.”

HE. “That is Old Testament.”

ME. “Correct.”

HE. “I am a New Testament Christian. Old Testament doesn’t apply.”

ME. “The bible doesn’t apply?”

HE. “New Testament does. Old Testament is of the old things which have passed away. ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ Rv 21.5 New Testament.”

ME. “So you don’t think the Old Testament should be in the bible.”

HE. “No; it should be in the bible. It has good stories. It tells us the history of the Jews. But it’s passed away. It’s dead.”

ME. “We’re not to trust it anymore for instructions on how to live our lives.”

HE. “Correct!”

ME. “But the 10 commandments are in there.”

HE. “Oh, the 10 commandments are in the New Testament too. We follow them. But the rest of the commandments are dead.”

ME. “So we can eat pork and shellfish.”

HE. “Yes!”

ME. “And have babies with our daughters.”

HE. “No! Why would you have babies with your daughters?”

ME. “I wouldn’t; that’s nasty. But it’s an Old Testament command to not have sex with your daughter. Lv 18.10 And you say that command is dead, so…”

HE. “No! No one should do that!”

ME. “Oh absolutely. But you said God no longer forbids it.”

HE. “Well there are natural laws.”

ME. “True. But people break those all the time, which is why God gives us biblical revelation. But you say it’s not biblical revelation anymore.”

He didn’t know how to answer that, so he quickly changed the subject. But it occurred to me afterward: In saying the Old Testament no longer counts, he also basically revealed he no longer considers it infallible.

In fact a lot of dispensationalists like Ayokunle explicitly teach the Old Testament failed: It didn’t successfully do the job of saving people! That’s why God had to replace its system of works-based salvation with grace. The Law no longer counts because it failed.

So when these folks claim they believe in biblical infallibility… well, it’s not consistent with everything they teach about the Old Testament. They might consider the New Testament infallible, but not the Old Testament. ’Cause it failed.

I pointed this out to a different dispensationalist I know, and after a bit of objecting, he finally said yeah, I got something there. If dispensationalists believe the Law failed to save, and needn’t be followed because it failed, then they can’t properly claim biblical infallibility. At least not for the whole bible. New Testament is fine.

“Morons” for Jesus.

1 Corinthians 3.18-21.

After Paul and Sosthenes wrote about us being bricks in the Holy Spirit’s temple, they finally bounced back to the subject of wisdom, which they’d kinda left behind in chapter 2 so they could go off on a tangent about how the Corinthians weren’t yet ready for deep stuff, and how they (and we) are collectively God’s temple. But now we’re back to wisdom. Namely God’s wisdom, granted to us Christians through the Holy Spirit—not spontaneously, as proven by every stupid Christian you’ve ever met, but when we listen to the Spirit and follow Jesus.

And if we wanna be wise, we gotta ditch what popular culture—including Christian popular culture, which has been fully infiltrated and corrupted by secular culture!—considers wisdom. Some of it is wise. Some really isn’t. In the United States, a lot of it is pragmatism—what works, as opposed to what’s good and right and moral. Most Americans figure if it works it’s good; then we go through all sorts of convoluted reasoning to explain why this also means it’s right and moral, and it’s not really.

Suppressing every other religion but Christianity, fr’instance—it sounds like it’d definitely make things easier for us Christians! And no doubt you can think of a lot of Old Testament verses which makes it sound right and moral. But is it moral to oppress people of other religions? Is it moral to obligate Americans to feign Christianity?—to go through all the motions, yet have no true personal relationship with Christ? What about when these hypocrites seek political power?—’cause they will; hypocrites love power. As you can see, the “wisdom” of Christian nationalism is profoundly stupid. But plenty of Christians fall for it.

So if you want wisdom, legit wisdom, listen to God.

1 Corinthians 3.18-21 KWL

18People must not delude themselves:

If any one of you thinks they’re wise in this age,

they should become morons so they could become wise,

19for this wisdom of the world

is moronic when compared to God.

For it’s written:

“The one who snares the wise in their subtlety,” Jb 5.13

20and again,

“The Lord knows the dialogues of the wise

—that they’re empty.” Ps 94.11

21So people must not promote other people,

for everything belongs to all of you.

22Whether it’s Paul, Apollos, Kifa,

the world, life, death, the present, the future—

everything belongs to all of you.

23And you belong to Christ,

and Christ belongs to God.

And, as the apostles add in verse 21-23, don’t divide Christianity into factions which follow one guru or another… because all these gurus work for the real guru, Jesus. Paul does, Apollos does, Kifa (i.e. Simon Peter) does, James does, John does, even John the baptist does. Likewise differing topics which Christians are free to debate about, like the world, life, death, the present, and the future: All of us get to speculate about ’em, and no one but Christ is the master of them. And us. Got that?

Blaspheming other people and things than God.

BLASPHEME blæs'fim verb. Say something about God (or holy things) which isn’t true. Slander.

2. Speak irreverently about God or holy things. Sacrilege.

[Blasphemer blæs'fim.ər noun, blasphemous 'blæs.fə.məs adjective, blasphemy 'blæs.fə.mi noun.]

As you can see, in the definition I just used (which I also used in my article on the subject), blasphemy is slander or irreverence towards God or holy things. And for some Christians, they insist only God can be blasphemed, and not holy things:

• Don’t speak ill of the LORD.
• Don’t speak ill of the LORD’s name; if someone uses his name for other stuff, like the names of altars and churches, you wanna carefully distinguish between the thing named for the LORD and the LORD himself.
• Don’t say evil things about the trinity.
• Nothing against Jesus.
• Especially nothing against the Holy Spirit, ’cause there’s no coming back from that one.
• For Roman Catholics, who believe the elements of holy communion literally become Jesus during the ritual, blaspheming them counts as blaspheming Jesus, so don’t. (One particular famous Catholic comedian will make Jesus jokes… but weirdly, will never make fun of the Eucharist, ’cause somehow that crosses the line.)

So don’t touch God; but these folks think it’s totally okay to blaspheme holy things, because they’re just things. They’re not God; they’re not divine; saying we can blaspheme them suggests they might be divine, but we worship nothing and no one but God. So you can’t blaspheme the holy bible, because we don’t worship the bible. (Or shouldn’t!)

Thing is… people kinda do have the ability to blaspheme the bible. If “blaspheme” means to slander, or speak irreverently about, of course there are people who slander and speak irreverently about bible. Antichrists do it all the time. When they say the bible’s a bunch of bunk, and claim it was written by delusional prophets, how isn’t that slander and irreverence? In other words, blasphemy?

Thing is, the people who insist only God can be blasphemed, wanna limit the use of the word “blasphemy” to God. When you’re slandering the bible, “slander” is fine. When you’re slandering God, “blasphemy” is the appropriate word. Because slandering God is a much bigger deal than slandering his prophets and apostles. One indicates the damaged relationship we have with God; the other just indicates we lack reverence for holy things and people. And a damaged relationship with God is obviously the bigger deal.

My own personal habit is, like those people, to only use “blasphemy” when we’re talking about slandering God, and not when we’re talking about slandering a church, a book, a preacher, a Ten Commandments monument, and other such things. But I gotta agree that yeah, technically, slander and blasphemy are the same thing.

And that’s a fact we see in the bible, ’cause the authors of scripture use βλασφημέω/vlasfiméo, “blaspheme,” to talk about other things than just God.

Dual citizenship… and picking a side.

Many Christians are fond of saying, “This world isn’t my home. Heaven is.”

To a degree that’s true. We’re part of God’s kingdom, with Christ Jesus as king. We recognize his reign, or try to; and follow him, more or less. Or at least we expect—despite our unloving, unkind, impatient, fruitless behavior, he’ll nonetheless graciously recognize us as his followers when he takes over the world. Maybe he will.

In the meanwhile we’re also citizens of our nations. I’m a citizen of the United States. As are many of TXAB’s readers, which is why I so often get U.S.-centric. Of course I realize this site gets readers from all over: You might be a citizen of Canada, China, France, Indonesia, Israel, Germany, Russia, Ukraine, the United Kingdom, and Singapore… and that’s the top 10, so if I didn’t mention your nation you’re just gonna have to enlist more of your friends to read, and bump up your stats. Anywho as Christians we’re all fellow citizens of God’s kingdom. Yet we simultaneously have allegiances to our respective homelands.

In the U.S., if you’re both a citizen of this country and another one, we call you a “dual citizen.” We have lots of ’em. Officially the U.S. only recognizes one citizenship: Ours. (So pay your taxes. It’s why Americans who don’t even live in the States are still required to pay American taxes.) When people become Americans, our citizenship oath requires ’em to renounce their previous citizenship. But if their original homeland doesn’t care about that, and still counts them a citizen, they’re dual citizens. Most of the dual citizens I know are also Mexican citizens, and take full advantage of their Mexican citizenship whenever they’re in Mexico. One friend’s from the U.K.—and when he visits family in the U.K., he’ll even switch his accent from Californian to Londoner.

But here’s the catch with dual citizenship: The time might come when you gotta pick one nation over the other.

Say you were a citizen of both the U.S. and Russia. And say we went to war. (Hope we never, ever do, but let’s just say.) Well, you have to pick a side. Especially if you work for the government—of either nation. Neither country will let you stay neutral. You’ve gotta be wholly American, or wholly Russian. (Or you’ve gotta flee to Argentina.)

Well, that’s how Christians are when it comes to our national citizenships. I’m a dual citizen of God’s kingdom, and the United States. So what happens when the States does something hostile to the kingdom? Right you are: I gotta pick a side. And I’ll just bluntly tell you now I’m picking Jesus. Like any immigrant, I may have been born American, but I choose citizenship in his kingdom. So Jesus takes priority. Don’t even have to think about it.

Much as I love the United States, I’m fully aware when Jesus returns, he’s overthrowing it. When he raptures his followers to join his invasion, we’re gonna help him overthrow it. I’m gonna help him overthrow it. Willingly. Gladly.

If that sounds like treason against the United States, it totally is. And if it makes you as an American feel uncomfortable, it should. Because as a Christian you need to pick sides. This isn’t a hypothetical situation, y’know. Jesus is returning. Not “could return”: Is returning. Not in some “spiritual sense,” by which most folks think imaginary. He’s literally, physically coming to earth to take it over. Maybe not in our lifetimes… but maybe he will; we don’t know.

So where’s your allegiance? ’Cause when he returns, you’re gonna be on one side or the other. Better not be the wrong one.

“I don’t speak in tongues. Therefore nobody does.”

I have an acquaintance, whom I’ll call Themistocles, who describes himself as a “soft cessationist.” That’s a term which means a lot of different things to the various people who use it.

For some of them it means regular ol’ cessationism—they believe God turned off the miracles in bible times, and he’s not turning ’em back on till the End Times. Why they call it “soft” is because they’re not deists—they don’t believe God created the universe to run (and run down) on its own, without his involvement or presence; that he’s left to pursue other interests. They accept there’s a God in the universe who hears their prayers… and sometimes even answers them. But he doesn’t do miracle-miracles. Doesn’t raise the dead, doesn’t let us Christians feed 5,000 people with only one person’s lunch, doesn’t cure cancer unless it’s through natural processes. He’ll empower “miraculous” fortunate coincidences, like having a ministry sent a check at just the time the bill came due, and for the precise amount of the bill. Or someone will offer us a job just as we’re praying for one, or we’ll bump into a friend whom we can help just as they’re asking God for help. Stuff like that, which you’ll have a difficult time convincing skeptics are literal act-of-God miracles.

For others, they believe sometimes God does actual, just-like-in-the-bible miracles. Yep, even though it’s not the End Times yet. The sick cured, the dead raised, multiplied resources, rain despite a drought, water turned to gasoline, crazy-large crops and crop yields, prophetic dreams, and so forth. They believe this stuff because they recognize it’s foolish to say “God doesn’t and won’t” when the scriptures not only say no such thing, but bluntly instruct us Christians about how to deal with such things when they happen. But what makes ’em still call themselves cessationist instead of continuationist is they believe these legit miracles are rare. Profoundly rare. Almost never happen. And most miracle stories are exaggerations, fraud, or fiction.

In Themistocles’s case, he’s “soft cessationist” because he’s cessationist… but knows cessationism has no valid biblical basis, and doesn’t wanna believe in it. It’s just that cessationism is what he grew up with; it’s what his church still teaches; he’s still surrounded by cessationists; he’s pretty sure he’s never seen a miracle. He’d sure like to see one. Till he does, he’s gonna fall back on the belief he grew up with: Cessationism. It’s “soft” in that it’s the comfortable cushion he’s currently resting on, till a real live miracle brings him to his feet.

Themistocles would likewise like to believe in speaking in tongues. But he’s got his doubts about the people who currently do it. Plus it’s never happened to him. And he’s asked God for the power to do it! But thus far, he’s pretty sure God hasn’t empowered him to do it, and he’s been praying for it for years. So the longer time goes on, the less and less he believes God even empowers it anymore.

Of course the way he first expressed this to me was by saying, “Well I’ve never spoken in tongues. I’m not even sure it’s a gift for today.”

“Speaking in tongues must be in an actual tongue. Bible says so.”

I heard this saying again recently. It’d been a few months. I hear it from time to time, but I haven’t given the subject its own article, so here y’go.

It’s a claim some cessationists make as part of their overall argument that speaking in tongues stopped in bible times, doesn’t happen anymore, and every continuationist church which still does tongues is either wrong, delusional, deceived, or devilish.

(And yes, because the Holy Spirit empowers tongues, claiming it's devilish means they're actually blaspheming the Holy Spirit. I know; some folks claim attributing the Spirit’s works to the devil somehow isn’t blasphemous. Okay then; how would they like it if every time they did a good deed, we said, “No they didn’t do it out of goodness; it’s all part of a satanic scheme to lead people astray; don’t trust them!” You know, kinda like they do with politicians from the other political party. Betcha it’d outrage them, or at the very least annoy them a bunch. Betcha they’d call it slanderous. And since blasphemy means slander, they’re blaspheming the Spirit. Whoops. Better repent! Okay, digression over.)

So in their churches, they forbid tongues. Yeah, I know there’s a bible verse telling us not to do that, 1Co 14.39 but they do it anyway. And how they justify it is with the saying in the title: “Speaking in tongues must be in an actual tongue. Bible says so. You are not speaking an actual tongue. You’re speaking gibberish. That’s not biblical. That’s devilish. And we oughta forbid devilry.”

That’s right: In every place in the bible where we read about tongues, and speaking in tongues, these folks insist the ancient Christians were speaking other human languages. Because weren’t they doing just that on the first Christian Pentecost?

Acts 2.4-11 ESV

4And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.

5Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. 6And at this sound the multitude came together, and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language. 7And they were amazed and astonished, saying, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8And how is it that we hear, each of us in his own native language? 9Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, 11both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians—we hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God.”

If the first instance of speaking in tongues consisted of foreign languages, they figure every instance of speaking in tongues must be that. Forget “various kinds of tongues;” 1Co 12.10 ESV they insist there’s only one kind: Foreign languages. Nothing else.

To a cessationist the Spirit doesn’t do tongues anymore anyway; the whole argument is moot. But let’s say he did: Then all tongues would be in foreign languages. And if our tongues aren’t, they’re not really from the Holy Spirit. Whether we’re faking it or the devil’s empowering it, they won’t always say. Sometimes because they’re not absolutely sure they’re right, and don’t wanna unintentionally blaspheme the Spirit. But some of the bolder cessationists have no trouble with saying it’s the devil, and blaspheme away.

Here’s the funny thing: In the United States, a large number of these cessationists who say tongues must be foreign languages, don’t know any foreign languages. Most Americans only speak English! (And not well.) So if they ever overheard me praying in tongues, and the Spirit decided for whatever reason that my prayers would be in Urdu, they wouldn’t know a lick of Urdu, and continue to presume I’m doing it wrong, and am probably demonized. They haven’t the discernment necessary to judge me properly. And I’m not even talking about supernatural discernment… which they wouldn’t practice anyway, ’cause cessationism.

Nope; all they know is they hear “argle-bargle-dirka-dirka” and it makes ’em angry. Same as one of my former bosses, who was a huge racist and didn’t want us employees talking about him behind his back: “This is America! Speak English!” Largely this is just the cessationist variant.

You, collectively, are the Holy Spirit’s temple.

1 Corinthians 3.10-17.

From time to time Christians talk about how you, singular, individually, are the temple of the Holy Spirit.

’Cause the Spirit is sealed to every individual Christian. Ep 1.13 He lives in the heart of every single believer. And whatever God lives in is, properly, his temple. If he lives in you, it makes you his temple. If he lives in another Christian, it makes that person a temple. Dozens of Christians are dozens of temples. Billions of Christians are billions of temples. Get it?

But this isn’t accurate. God has only one temple.

As was kinda emphasized in the bible. Moses built the portable temple at Sinai, which English-speaking Christians call “the tabernacle,” and that was the temple for 4 centuries till Solomon ben David built a permanent one of gold-plated cedar in Jerusalem. The Babylonians burnt that down; Zerubbabel ben Shealtiel built another of stone; Herod 1 and his successors renovated it; the Romans eventually destroyed it.

But regardless of the structure, the scriptures emphasized there was one place, and only one place, where the LORD intended to meet people and receive worship and sacrifice. It was the one and only place they kept his ark, representing his relationship with Israel. It was the one and only place his name dwelt Dt 12.11 —his name, not the LORD himself, ’cause obviously the Almighty can’t be contained by a mere building.

Now it’s not that other people didn’t try to build temples for the LORD. Jeroboam ben Nabat, king of Samaria, feared losing subjects to the king of Jerusalem, so he built two more temples. They didn’t have arks, but Jeroboam put gold calf idols in them, figuring that’d do… and since there’s an entire command against idolatry in the 10 Commandments, God and his prophets condemned Jeroboam’s temples ever after. After the Jerusalem temple was destroyed, Egyptian Jews in exile constructed a temple to the LORD in Alexandria, and Samaritans constructed a temple to the LORD at Mt. Gerazim. But neither of these temples were commanded nor authorized by God. He had his own plans. Always had.

And once his temple’s veil ripped open, top to bottom, Mt 27.51 it signifies God wasn’t interested in being worshiped from Herod’s stone building any longer. He was gonna build a temple from entirely different stones: Living people. Living stones. Christians. Every Christian.

The Holy Spirit dwells in me, but I’m not the Holy Spirit’s temple. I’m only one of the stones of his temple. As are you. As is every Christian. We’re parts of his temple. Because the temple us us—collectively. The Spirit doesn’t have billions of temples; he only has the one. Same as always.

I know; you thought each individual Christian makes up an individual temple of the Spirit, right? ’Cause that’s the way it gets taught in our individualistic, individualism-valuing culture. Nope. We, collectively, are the Spirit’s temple.

Simoniac blogs.

If you remember what simony means—and if you don’t, it means people who are trying to make money from the sort of religious stuff which ought to be free—then you can kinda tell what today’s rant is gonna be about. But first, backstory.

I’ve been blogging for more than 20 years now. Back in 2002 I created an Angelfire website for myself, just ’cause I could. And I added a few extra pages to the site, in which I opined about this subject or that. It had been a few years since I last had a newspaper column, so I had a bunch of rants in my system to turn loose. I migrated it to GeoCities. Later, when I went to grad school and found a lot of my classmates had Xanga blogs, I started one too… then ported all that to Blogger, and I’ve been on that platform ever since. They host The Christ Almighty Blog, a.k.a. TXAB.

True, TXAB has only been around since 2015. But my first Blogger blog was a personal blog I started in 2004. Then I created a second blog for my bible studies, Towards a Fuller Understanding of God; then a third for my old comic strips, then a fourth for articles Smith Wigglesworth had published, then a fifth for fiction. Since I wanted to talk about more than just bible studies, I created a Christianity blog, More Christ, in 2010; but after a few years I ditched all the other blogs and consolidated everything into one blog, this one.

I had to look up all those dates ’cause I don’t keep track of anniversaries. For some people, celebrating how old their thing is, seems to take precedence over whether it’s still relevant, or any good. But I digress.

When I started blogging, of course I also started reading other people’s blogs. There weren’t a lot of them in 2002. Xanga got me reading all my friends’ blogs… most of whom had nothing to say, and now they have Facebook and can say even less. Xanga also got me reading other blogs in my “community”—other people who shared my views about Christ and politics, so I read what they had to say too.

But when I left Xanga for Blogger, of course I found other bloggers. Good ones.

Blaspheming the Holy Spirit.

Our English word blasphemy comes from the Greek word βλασφημία/vlasfimía, and largely means the same thing: It’s irreverence towards, and slander against, people and things we oughta reverence. We Christians tend to only use it to describe irreverence towards God (and bibliolaters to describe irreverence towards the bible), but the ancients applied it to all sorts of things. Like irreverence towards the temple, Moses, the prophets, and the scriptures. Even kings and emperors; yes you could blaspheme a king. Especially when they were one of those kings who claimed godhood. Some politicians still kinda get that way.

Some blasphemy is totally unintentional, like when we claim stuff about God that’s not so. Like when we claim, “God’s gonna send you to hell for that!” and no he won’t. Or when we claim God’s secret will is for evil to happen, and no it’s not.

Other times it’s totally intentional, ’cause we’re pissed at God over something he did or didn’t do, so we yell at him a bit, or otherwise throw a tantrum and say some evil things. God is fully aware we’re just acting up. And once we snap out of it, he forgives us. He’s gracious like that.

But then Jesus said this:

Mark 3.28-30 NASB

28“Truly I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the sons and daughters of men, and whatever blasphemies they commit; 29but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— 30because they were saying, “He has an unclean spirit.”

Said much the same thing in two other gospels. In context, it’s part of the story where Jerusalem scribes visiting the Galilee gave their expert opinion, and declared Jesus did his exorcisms by the power of Beelzebub (in Syriac Baal Zevúl, a local pagan god; their euphemism for Satan). Not the Holy Spirit. Jesus pointed out their reasoning was stupid: Satan’s not gonna fight itself, and if it is, it’s falling apart. And this is where he said blaspheming the Holy Spirit means you committed an αἰωνίου ἁμαρτήματος/eoníu amartímatos, “sin of the age,” or “eternal sin.” Mt 12.31-32, Lk 12.10

Historically, Christians have taught this means a sin which disqualifies you from Kingdom Come. Your friends and family are gonna join Jesus at his second coming—and you are gonna sit on the bench. Or stay dead till Judgment Day. Then go into the lake of sulfur and fire.

Yikes.

Hence some Christians are terrified of committing it. Afraid they might accidentally, unintentionally commit it. So afraid, they’re afraid of critiquing any miracle or prophet—even though we’re supposed to double-check these things, and make sure they’re really God. But they refuse to, lest they say “It’s devilish” when it’s really the Spirit, and stumble into blaspheming the Spirit. And that’s why so many Christians let so many phonies get away with so much evil.

On the other extreme, some Christians claim blasphemy of the Spirit never, ever happens. Not anymore. ’Cause cessationism! As soon as “that which is perfect has come,” 1Co 13.10 which cessationists insist refers to the bible, God switched off the miracles: He doesn’t need ’em to confirm his message anymore, ’cause now the bible does that. The conditions under which blasphemy of the Spirit could happen, no longer does. So whenever you see a “miracle,” or hear a “prophecy,” feel free to say it’s from Satan. The blind and deaf and paralyzed aren’t cured anymore; that’s Satan. Jesus doesn’t appear to people anymore; that’s Satan. And when those people respond by repenting, transforming their lives, producing good fruit, likewise praying for people and curing ’em: Yep, more Satan—hoo boy is that devil tricky, acting exactly like the Holy Spirit does in the bible, just to confuse people.

And on yet another axis you have those Christians who are quick to point to other scriptures which state God forgives every sin. 1Jn 1.7, 9 Every single possible potential sin; no exceptions. If you’re worried about the scriptures’ warnings against blaspheming the Spirit, relax! God forgives all.

Lastly we have the Christians who try their darnedest to redefine blaspheming the Spirit so it’s not what Jesus warned the scribes against doing. It’s some other thing. It’s apostasy. Or it’s numbing your conscience so much, you can’t tell the difference between good and evil anymore; confounding the Spirit with Satan is just a symptom of the real problem.

I think instead of convenient little answers which make us calm down and stop worrying about committing this sin, we oughta figure out for real what it is, whether we do it, and whether we can still get into God’s kingdom even if we did it.

Are Jehovah’s Witnesses Christian?

Years ago; different job. One of my clients needed to get his life straight—which didn’t require him to go to church, but it definitely doesn’t hurt! And since he grew up Jehovah’s Witness, and since the JW church was right down the street from where he lived, that’s where he went. Very quickly he became a cage-stage JW, and tried to tell me how wrong I was… and I told him, “Come back and talk Jesus to me when you can demonstrate more fruit of the Spirit; maybe then somebody will want to listen to you.”

That’s pretty consistently been my experience with the JWs: They’re right, I’m wrong, and any time I ask ’em questions about their beliefs, they presume I’m just trying to sow doubt. Which—I’ll be honest, and I’ll upfront tell them this too—I totally am. The Jehovah’s Witnesses are a heretic church, and the reason they proclaim so many heresies is because of their one core problem: Pride. Pride in being right. Pride in being the only church that’s right, while the rest of us are wrong and going to hell. And because they figure we’re wrong, their founders looked at every orthodox thing Christians believe, and deliberately experimented with the very heresies we rejected. And kept a bunch.

And the JW’s really attract prideful people—because hey, you wanna be right about God, don’t you? I’ve no doubt there are exceptions; there are actual humble Jehovah’s Witnesses in existence. It’s just I’ve never met any of them. Ever. Maybe you have; that’d be nice. I simply haven’t.

Still not ready for solid food.

1 Corinthians 3.1-9.

The Christians of ancient Corinth had divided themselves into factions which, it appears, weren’t getting along. There was the Apollos faction, emphasizing the teachings of the apostle who evangelized them; there was the Paul faction, emphasizing the teachings of the apostle who’d evangelized them. There was also a Simon Peter faction, and a Christ faction (or, likely, a “Christ only” faction; phooey on his apostles!). 1Co 1.12

This behavior, Paul and Sosthenes rebuked in 1 Corinthians. If these apostles are legitimately following Jesus—and from what we know, Apollos, Paul, and Peter certainly did—their teachings should harmonize. We might see minor discrepancies, ’cause the apostles weren’t infallible; only Jesus is. But these discrepancies should be irrelevant, ’cause all these guys are pointing beyond themselves, at Christ Jesus and his kingdom.

I’ve said more than once Paul isn’t infallible, and I’m fully aware there are gonna be Christians who balk at this idea. I mean yeah, they’re gonna acknowledge Paul’s various screw-ups which Luke recorded in the Acts of the Apostles; they’re right there in the bible; we can’t deny ’em. But they’re also gonna emphasize Paul wrote scripture, and his New Testament letters are fully trustworthy doctrine which Christians have followed for millennia. Arguably every Christian, with the exception of a few heretics, puts ourselves in the Paul faction. Apollos doesn’t have any letters in the New Testament… unless he’s the unknown author of Hebrews, and likely he’s not.

Still, Christians breaking ourselves into sects and flinging around the word “heresy” as if anything we don’t like qualifies as heresy: Yep, it started happening in the ancient church. Still happens. And shouldn’t. We need to overcome our differences and work together, and stop giving ammunition to antichrists who’d rather see all of us gone, and are as happy in a pig in poo whenever we fight one another.

In today’s passage, the apostles emphasize how Apollos and Paul are on the same team. Same Jesus. Same Holy Spirit empowering both of ’em.

1 Corinthians 3.1-9 KWL

1Fellow Christians, I can’t speak to you as Spiritual people,

but as fleshly people,

as “infants in Christ.”

2I give you milk, not solid food,

for you’re not ready.

You’re not able to feed yourselves even now,

3for you’re still fleshly people.

Why is there zeal and strife among you?

Aren’t you fleshly people?

Do you walk like pagan humans?

4For when someone might say, “I’m of Paul,”

and another, “I’m of Apollos,”

aren’t you pagan humans?

5So who is Apollos? Who is Paul? Servants!

You believe because of them,

however the Master gives faith to each person.

6I plant and Apollos waters,

but God is making you grow,

7so neither the planter nor waterer is someone vital,

but God is the grower.

8And the planter and waterer are one!

Each of us receives our own paycheck

for our own labor.

9For God is our coworker;

it’s God’s farm, God’s building.

Want divine insight? Listen to the Holy Spirit.

1 Corinthians 2.6-16.

Paul and Sosthenes start 1 Corinthians by talking about how they didn’t present the gospel of Christ Jesus with clever, wise reasoning, but with supernatural demonstrations of power.

But this is not to dismiss wisdom! It’s important. It’s just the kind of wisdom they’re talking about comes from the Holy Spirit, and in ancient Corinth, the only kind of wisdom the Corinthians knew about was Greek philosophy. Which, let’s be honest, is kinda clever in a lot of ways. But when the Greeks speculated about what God is like, they got him way wrong. The Greeks, particularly Plato of Athens, were into determinism big-time. There was a whole lot of speculation about the secret will of God or the gods. Stuff that’s actually leaked into Christianity, heavily influenced by former neo-Platonists like Augustine, and of course Augustine fans like Jean Calvin. Determinism has corrupted many a Christian’s concept of God, and kinda makes him out to be evil—if everything that happens was all pre-determined by God, there’s an awful lot of evil baked into the plan, isn’t there?

Proper wisdom, godly wisdom, comes from God himself. Namely the Holy Spirit, who is God, who’s come to live within every Christian and steer us right… provided we listen to him. You wanna know the deep things of God? Start listening to the Spirit!

1 Corinthians 2.6-16 KWL

6We speak of a comprehensive wisdom;

a wisdom not of this age,

nor of the rulers of this age; it’s meaningless.

7But we speak of God’s wisdom,

previously hidden in a mystery,

which God pre-decided before the ages

for our glory.

8Which none of the rulers of this age knew,

for if they knew,

they wouldn’t have crucified the glorious Master.

9But just as it was written,

“What eye doesn’t see and ear doesn’t hear,” Is 64.4

and doesn’t enter the human heart—

what God prepares for those who love him.

10God, through the Spirit, revealed them to us,

for the Spirit explores everything;

God’s depths as well.

11For who comprehends about humans,

and things about humans,

if not the spirit of a human that’s within them?

Thus also God-stuff—

nobody knows it but God’s Spirit.

12It’s not the world’s spirit we accept,

but the Spirit who’s from God,

so that we might have known

the things from God which he gives us.

13We also speak of God-stuff—

not in human teachings or wise lessons,

but in Spirit-teachings,

comparing Spirit-stuff to Spirit-stuff.

14A soulish person doesn’t accept the things of God’s Spirit,

for it’s “moronic” to them,

and they can’t understand it

because it’s discerned through the Spirit.

15A Spiritual person discerns everything

—and is discerned by no one.

16For “Who knows God’s mind? Who can advise him?” Is 40.13

We have Christ’s mind.

Blasphemy: Slandering God’s character.

BLASPHEME blæs'fim verb. Say something about God (or holy things) which isn’t true. Slander.

2. Speak irreverently about God or holy things. Sacrilege.

[Blasphemer blæs'fim.ər noun, blasphemous 'blæs.fə.məs adjective, blasphemy 'blæs.fə.mi noun.]

Popular culture tends to define blasphemy with the second definition: It’s a synonym for sacrilege, when one treats the sacred profanely. When we make fun, or make light, of holy things. When we tell jokes about God, or treat our bibles like any other book, and set ’em on the floor or take crayons to them to make colorful doodles in the margins. When people take God’s name in vain. When I treat him like my dad instead of OUR FATHER WHICH ART IN HEAVEN. (Heck, people think I’m blaspheming when I don’t capitalize all the Almighty’s pronouns.)

Really, people consider it blasphemy when they personally feel insulted—“on the Almighty’s behalf,” but really because they disapprove. If I don’t take off my hat in church, or wear jeans to a service, or take off my shoes, I’m blaspheming.

Yep, take off my shoes. I’ve done that multiple times. I could understand people’s objections if my feet were stinky, but they object because they’re offended by my naked feet. That is, till I quote ’em some bible:

Exodus 3.4-5 KJV

4And when the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I. 5And he said, Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.

Yep. You’re the one insulted by bare feet; God’s insulted by you wearing your fancy leather loafers in his holy presence. Now take ’em off. And the socks.

Anyway, thanks to the sentiments of conservative popular culture, I apparently blaspheme a lot. More than one Christian gets their knickers in a knot over my behavior. Including titling this blog Christ Almighty! They’re insulted, and therefore they presume God’s insulted. But this is just projection. As I demonstrated, they seldom know what offends God and what doesn’t… and back when I was a little kid, I realized that’s kinda important. You don’t wanna offend your savior! Might be a good idea to read that bible. But I digress.

For these folks, by blasphemy they really mean lèse-majesté, a handy French term which means “less majestic”—it was when the people of France treated their king in a way he didn’t consider consistent with the dignity he merited. (Well, imagined he merited. I’m American and the only king I recognize is Jesus. The rest, whether they know it or not, usurp his title.) Lèse-majesté is the invention of petty, insecure despots, who want everyone to suck up to them under pain of death. Esther experienced it when she had to petition the Persian shah for her people… but if she showed up unannounced, the shah might interpret it as an insult and have her killed. Es 4.11 Good thing he thought she was hot.

The reason Christians so often use lèse-majesté as our definition of blasphemy, is because there’s a bit of despotism in us. God’s neither insulted nor offended when his kids boldly approach his throne of grace. He 4.16 He wants us to do so. Invites us to do so. God has a thick skin—and a sense of humor. In contrast, these Christians don’t, and take offense because deep down they wanna be treated with rarified respect—and if that’s how we gotta behave with God, it makes it all the easier for them to suggest maybe we oughta treat them, “the Lord’s anointed,” with similar worship.

Hence they attempt to enforce divisions and ranks and barriers in God’s kingdom—all the stuff Jesus abolished by making every single one of us into God’s children, priests, and kings.

Well, enough about what blasphemy’s not. Let’s get to what it actually is.

Miracles first; message later.

1 Corinthians 2.1-5.

I grew up in a cessationist church; they believed God doesn’t do miracles anymore, and all their ministries and preaching was adapted to that worldview. So when they talked about sharing Jesus with other people, they never, ever talked about doing supernatural stuff as a part of it. No prophecy, no praying for people to be cured of various ailments; nothing like Jesus and the apostles did in the bible. Just… apologetics.

They didn’t always call it apologetics, but basically that’s what they did, and likely still do: Explaining why Jesus is Lord, what he did to save us from sin and death, encouraging people to believe this wholeheartedly, and say the sinner’s prayer. And ever since that church, I’ve read a bunch of other curricula about how to do evangelism; I even worked for an evangelism ministry for a year. Largely that’s what Evangelical evangelists focus on: Tell people how they can be saved, then talk ’em into believing it and embracing Jesus.

In contrast, in the bible, Jesus or the apostles would go somewhere, either prophesy or cure someone, and crowds would appear wanting to know, “What just happened? What’s this about?”—and then the apostles or Jesus would talk about God’s kingdom, and people would follow Jesus. Maybe get baptized.

No apologetics necessary! You don’t have to convince people God is real when they just saw God act. Yeah, they might deny what they just saw, or what it means, and we might need to challenge them not to. But that takes more commonsense than apologetics.

Anyway, in today’s passage Paul and Sosthenes remind the Christians of Corinth that this is what Paul did. Since he was already talking about earthly wisdom versus God, he just wanted to remind ’em he didn’t evangelize them with wisdom. He did stuff, and let the power of the Holy Spirit do all the speaking.

1 Corinthians 2.1-5 KWL

1Remember my coming to you, fellow Christians:

I come, not with an authoritative lesson,

nor preaching wisdom to you—

God’s now-revealed mystery.

2For I didn’t figure I knew anything about you,

except Christ Jesus, and this man crucified,

3and I became weak, afraid,

and greatly shaking among you.

4My lesson and my preaching

wasn’t lessons of wise persuasion,

but a demonstration of the Spirit and power

5so your faith wouldn’t be in human wisdom

but in God’s power.

And yes, cessationists are all wet. We can still do this. Always could. I’ve done it. Works great.

“Moronic Christian beliefs” are God’s wisdom.

1 Corinthians 1.17-31.

Right after Paul and Sosthenes critique the church of Corinth for dividing themselves into factions, the apostles get sidetracked into a talk about how the gospel they preach… is kinda stupid.

And yeah, making that statement is immediately gonna offend certain Christian snowflakes, so lemme explain, same as the apostles explained. To the world it’s stupid. To the world, which respects power, wealth, clever politicking (or even petty and stupid politicking, ’cause pwning your opponents counts as a win to them), popularity, fame, and especially the confusion or destruction of your foes, Christ’s victory over sin and death makes no sense.

In the Roman Empire it especially made no sense. Jesus of Nazareth was a convicted felon, who got the death penalty, and died in a nasty, embarrassing way: Buck naked, wrists and ankles nailed to a cross, left to suffocate and bleed out and die. That’s as big a defeat as any of ’em could imagine. That was a sign from the gods you were cursed. And this was the guy Christians worshiped, and called Master and King. Made no sense.

In today’s passage, the apostles kinda shrugged and said, “Yeah okay. It’s moronic. To you. Because you’re too proud to realize just how brilliant it actually is.”

1 Corinthians 1.10-31 KWL

17For Christ doesn’t send me to baptize,

but to evangelize.

And not with a wise message,

lest Christ’s cross be made irrelevant,

18for the cross’s lesson is “moronic”

to those who are destroying themselves.

To you who are being saved,

it’s God’s power—

19for it was written:

“I’ll destroy the wisdom of the wise.

I’ll nullify the thinking of the thinkers.” Is 29.14

20Where’s a wise person? Where’s a scribe?

Where’s a person who regularly disputes with this age?

Doesn’t God make the world’s wisdom “moronic”?

21Because—in God’s wisdom—

the world doesn’t come to know God through wisdom,

God is pleased through “moronic” preaching

to save those who believe in him.

22Jews ask for miraculous signs

and Greeks seek wisdom.

23We preach a Christ who was crucified;

Jews are scandalized,

and to gentiles this is “moronic.”

24To those who are invited, Jews and Greeks alike,

Christ is God’s power and God’s wisdom,

25because God’s “moronic” plan is wiser than humans.

God’s “weakness” is stronger than humans.

26For look at your invitation, fellow Christians!

Not many wise—by carnal standards.

Not many powerful.

Not many noble.

27But God chooses the world’s “morons” for himself,

so he might embarrass the wise.

God chooses the world’s weak,

so he might embarrass the strong.

28God chooses the world’s inferiors and outcasts.

Things which aren’t,

so he might negate things which are,

29so no carnal person

can elevate themselves before God.

30From this, you’re all in Christ Jesus,

who becomes our wisdom from God.

And justice! And holiness. And deliverance.

31Just like it was written:

“Promoters? Promote God!” Jr 9.24

Christian factions. Which shouldn’t exist.

1 Corinthians 1.10-17.

In Paul and Sosthenes’s greeting to the church of Corinth, they (but mostly Paul) states God made ’em wealthy in teaching, knowledge, and supernatural gifts. 1Co 1.5, 7 They legitimately are Christ Jesus’s church.

And then he gets into what they’re doing wrong. And it’s a lot. Corinth is not a healthy church! They got problems.

Which… actually works out to the benefit of the rest of Christendom. All our churches are gonna have problems like Corinth did. Hopefully not all of them at once!—and ideally none. But if we continue to minister to sinners (as we should!), and continue to get newbies who don’t know any better, we’re inevitably gonna have some. And when they crop up, we have Paul’s advice and instructions in 1 Corinthians to help set us straight.

So let’s get to the first of the problems: Factions. And if you’re Protestant, you know all about factions. There are thousands of Christian denominations out there. All of whom can get along, and absolutely should, because we all share the same Lord Jesus. But there are always some Christians who insist we absolutely should not, because our differences disqualify us from fellowship—from interacting with each other, ministering together, and worshiping Jesus together.

Just this morning I read a bit of a book critiquing a popular megachurch pastor who regularly insists most churches—not just a few!—are heretic, and going to hell. Plenty more Christians are just like him, and insist only their faction follows Christ correctly—and if we’re saved by our orthodoxy, only they will be saved.

I don’t know whether Corinth’s factions went this far. Hope not! But the apostles were offended that there should be any factions within Christ’s body; anybody who insisted their sect of Christianity was correct and the others not, when really we’re all wrong, and only Christ himself is right.

1 Corinthians 1.10-17 KWL

10Fellow Christians, I encourage you

in the name of our master Christ Jesus

so you all might say the same thing,

schisms might not exist among you,

and you might be joined together

with the same mind and thought process.

11For, my fellow Christians,

people from Chloe made it plain to me about you:

Fighting is among you.

12I’ll put it this way:

Each of you says, “I’m of Paul,” or “I’m of Apollos,”

“I’m of Kefa,” or “I’m of Christ.”

13Christ was divided?

Paul wasn’t crucified for you!

Or are you baptized in the name of Paul?

14I say grace to God: I baptized none of you!

—except Crispus and Gaius

15—so that no one might say I baptize in my own name.

16I also baptized the household of Stephanus;

otherwise I don’t know if I baptized anyone else.

17AFor Christ doesn’t send me to baptize,

but to evangelize.

Kefa in verse 12 is Simon Peter’s nickname in Syriac. Jn 1.42 Apollos is a Christian evangelist with whom Paul had worked a number of times. Paul you’ve heard of. Christ you’d better know.

Greetings to Corinth.

1 Corinthians 1.1-9.

I’ve already commented on bits and pieces of 1 Corinthians—mostly the parts having to do with supernatural gifts—but I should probably discuss the letter as a whole, should I? Yeah, why not.

Kórinthos (today’s “ancient Corinth,” Greece, 5km southwest of modern Corinth) was the capital of the Roman province of Achaea. Julius Caesar had completely destroyed the city on his way through in 44BC, and had rebuilt it as a Roman city, so it was way more Roman than Greek. Lots of pagan Greek temples… but lots of Latin inscriptions instead of Greek ones. Lots of visitors; more trade than the city could actually handle; plenty of cultural diversity. Including Jews, who moved in at the same time Caesar reestablished the city—so in that sense, they’d always been there.

The huge amount of trade which came through the town, had the effect of making money and wealth the thing which established status in that city. Not caste, like you found in the rest of the Roman Empire. In many ways it made Corinth a lot like the United States: Status came from what you had and what you could accomplish, not your family. Not that people didn’t still have their prejudices, which could still blindside and ruin you when you thought those things shouldn’t be relevant anymore. (Some things never do change.)

Paul of Tarsus had lived in Corinth from the years 50 to 51, working as a tentmaker and tanner, and trying to teach in synagogue until the Jews had enough of him. Ac 18.1-11 A few years later, probably 54 or 55, Paul and Sosthenes wrote this letter. It’s not the only letter to Corinth; scholars speculate there were three, and of course the New Testament includes two of ’em, presented in order of length: 1 Corinthians is longer, and likely written earlier, although there’s always the chance it might not be.

So Paul you’ve heard of. There’s a Sosthenes who was president of the Corinthian synagogue, who got beaten by a mob after the Corinthian Jews unsuccessfully tried to get Paul condemned by the Roman proconsul. Ac 18.12-17 He might be the same Sosthenes who wrote this letter, but there’s nothing in the scriptures about him later becoming Christian. His predecessor Crispus certainly did Ac 18.8 —and some people have speculated Crispus is Sosthenes’s family name; that it’s all the same guy. But that’s pure speculation. Sosthenes is a common ancient Greek name.

Of course Paul brings up Corinth’s wealth in the introduction to the letter:

1 Corinthians 1.1-9 KWL

1Paul, invited to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by God’s will,

and brother Sosthenes

2to God’s church existing in Corinth,

made holy in Christ Jesus,

invited to be saints,

with all those invited to go by the name of our master, Christ Jesus,

in every place, both theirs and ours:

3Grace to you, and peace

from God our Father and master Christ Jesus.

4I always say grace to my God about you all,

on top of God’s grace,

which he gives you in Christ Jesus.

5For in God you’re made wealthy in everything;

in every teaching and every knowledge,

6as the witness of Christ confirms in you all.

7Thus none of you are lacking in any supernatural gift

as you’re awaiting the revelation

of our master Christ Jesus;

8At the End, Jesus will also confirm you all as not guilty

on the Judgment Day of our master Christ Jesus.

9Trustworthy God!—through whom

you’re invited to a partnership with his son, our master Christ Jesus.

You notice Paul contrasts Corinth’s earthly wealth with God’s supernatural wealth—“in God you’re made wealthy in everything.” You got knowledge. Supernatural gifts. Grace. And when Jesus returns, you won’t be judged, because he doesn’t judge those who heed his message and trust the One who sent him. Jn 5.24