Praying for the next pope.

Pope Francis, the head of the Roman Catholic Church, died Easter Monday. You probably knew this already; his funeral and interment has been all over the news.

Likewise the church’s process of picking his successor: All the cardinals under the age of 80 have to go to Vatican City for the conclave, the process where they’re locked in the Sistine Chapel, and vote for a Catholic man—any Catholic man; he doesn’t have to be a cardinal—to be the new pope. They keep voting till one of their candidates gets a majority. Used ballots get thrown in a stove and burned; they add a little something to the fire to make the smoke white or black. Black means they’re still voting; white means they’ve picked a guy. If he accepts the job, he’s the new pope; if he doesn’t, back to voting.

Catholics are of course praying the cardinals pick a good guy. Praying the Holy Spirit lead the cardinals to pick a good guy. (Praying the cardinals even listen to the Holy Spirit. True, men are made cardinals for all sorts of reasons; some of those reasons have admittedly been political. But hopefully all were chosen because they’re good examples of following Jesus.)

And, as I’ve pointed out to some of my fellow non-Catholics, we should be praying the cardinals pick a good guy.

I get various responses to that:

• “Already am!”
• “…Oh! Yeah, I should be praying the cardinals pick a good guy.”
• “…What? Why should I pray for that? I’m not Catholic.”
• “What?” [followed by scoffing] “Who cares who they pick.”

You can obviously tell which of the responses are the anti-Catholic ones.

God is not too busy for your prayers.

Honestly, I’ve never heard anyone state, “But God’s too busy to listen” as the reason they don’t pray. They might feel it, or secretly deep down believe it… but they don’t say this.

Because while they may not know squat about God, they are fully he’s almighty. Even pagans describe him as almighty. He has the power to effortlessly handle the volume of eight billion prayers a minute; basic divine almightiness includes the ability to juggle infinite conversations. They know that at least.

They might’ve seen the movie Bruce Almighty, in which God (played by Morgan Freeman) grants Bruce Nolan (played by Jim Carrey) his powers. Bruce also has to hear all the prayers God does, and he can’t handle the volume. (God later explains he’s aware Bruce can’t handle the prayers of the whole planet, so he just limited Bruce to his hometown. That’s still a lot—and Bruce can’t handle that either.) So they might suspect God can’t give each individual prayer the attention we’d like him to. But they still know God, as popularly described by both Christians and non-Christians, can so give each individual prayer his attention. ’Cause they know Bruce isn’t God… and for that matter neither is Morgan Freeman.

So yeah, this “God’s too busy” line is one people already know isn’t true. May struggle to believe it, but know it’s not true. May have to be reminded of the fact it’s not true, just a little… but only a little. Well here ya go: Your little reminder.

In my experience, whenever people say God’s not listening, they never say it’s because God can’t handle the prayer traffic. Instead they presume he’s not listening for other reasons. Usually a petty or silly one, like “I prayed wrong” or “I’m not worthy”—as if God only answers the prayers of the deserving, and that’s not them.

Because even little pagan kids know God’s not too busy to hear their prayers. Their ideas about God may have entirely come from popular culture, but pop culture nonetheless conveys the idea God hears all. Kinda like Santa Claus! Santa sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake, knows if you’ve been bad or good… yet for some reason doesn’t know what you want for Christmas till you go to the shopping mall and tell him, but little kids never really think about that particular inconsistency. Anyway God’s at least as omniscient as Santa, and isn’t too busy to hear everything you’ve told him.

So it’s probably an utter waste of time for me to write an article about why God’s not too busy for our prayers: People already know otherwise! But I’m not gonna rule out the possibility, however small, that there’s some doubting Christian out there who somehow got the idea God’s just too busy for them.

Christians in slavery.

1 Corinthians 7.21-24.

As you likely know, slavery was practiced in bible times. It was part of ancient cultures’ criminal justice systems: If you broke the law, or were on the wrong side in a war, they’d either kill you, fine you, or enslave you. They didn’t do penitentiaries; their prisons either held people for trial, or held slaves.

Occasionally people object to the scriptures, and the apostles, because they didn’t fight slavery, nor declare it sin. To a large degree they didn’t have to. Plenty of scriptures mandated that Hebrews and Christians treat slaves humanely, treat Christian slaves like Christian family, and once they’ve worked off their debts to society, grant them freedom. And American slavery demonstrated that plenty of depraved people will distort or ignore the scriptures for their evil gain, claim to be Christian nonetheless, and eagerly go to war to keep people in chains.

Roman slavery was better than American slavery, but was still rife with abuse, evil, rape, and murder. Just because it happened in the bible, and in many ways is even a biblical principle—as we’ll see in today’s passage—does not mean slavery should still exist. All the more reason we needed to abolish it, and should continue to fight slavery and human trafficking where we find it.

Anyway. The last passage of 1 Corinthians I looked at, was about how Christians—well, male Christians—oughta remain in the same state of ritual circumcision they were in when they came to Jesus. If you’re a circumcised Jew, remain one; if you’re an uncircumcised gentile, remain one. You don’t need to change for Jesus. Work with the situation you’re in.

Today: Same thing if you’re a slave or freeman.

1 Corinthians 7.21-24 KWL

21Were you a slave when God called?

Don’t you mind.

But if you’re able to become free,

behave yourself all the more!

22For a slave called by the Master

is a freeman in the Master.

Likewise a freeman called by the Master

is the Master’s slave.

23You are properly purchased.

Don’t become slaves to people.

24Each person is in the place

where they were called, fellow Christians;

remain there, with God.

If you were a slave when you became Christian, Paul and Sosthenes say, “Don’t you mind.” 1Co 7.21 Slavery doesn’t disqualify you from God’s kingdom. It definitely limits how and where you can minister; your slaveholder has to grant permission, same as the warden of a prison, the case officer of a parolee, or the parent of an undisciplined child. If your slaveholder says you can’t, you really can’t.

But at the same time: Don’t you mind. Don’t worry about it. God is fully aware of your situation, and what you can and can’t do. And he has final say, not your slaveholder.

Make peace with your enemies.

Matthew 5.25-26, Luke 12.57-59.

In the scriptures, sins against others tend to be compared with debts. “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” Mt 6.12 KJV This was because among the ancients, a debt was the fastest way to fall into deep, deep trouble.

Y’see, if you borrowed money and didn’t pay it back when you agreed to, the ancients had the attitude that you never did mean to pay it back. You deceived your creditor into giving you money. You committed fraud; that’s a sin. Lv 19.13 You committed theft; that’s a sin. Lv 19.11 You’re a criminal. And what did the ancients do with criminal debtors? Sold ’em into slavery, and their purchase price would pay the debt. What if your own purchase price didn’t cover the debt? Usually they’d sell as many of your family members into slavery as would cover the debt.

In some countries, like the Roman Empire, government officials would frequently buy you. ’Cause the Romans had tons of civic projects to work on. They built impressive stuff, and built it to last; lots of it is still standing. They’d build roads, aqueducts, amphitheaters, harbors, public toilets, public baths; anything they figured might bring Roman civilization to the public. Stuff that’d remind them it was good to live under Roman rule. The crucifixions alongside all the main roads would remind them it wasn’t so good to defy it.

And when I say “they built impressive stuff,” I mean Roman slaves built it. Then at night, they’d lock these slaves in prison lest they run away.

That is the historical background to what Jesus is talking about in this teaching from his Sermon on the Mount—and its parallel teaching in Luke. We know this has to do with debt, ’cause Jesus talks about paying the last quadrans in Matthew, or the last lepton in Luke. These weren’t fines; Romans didn’t bother with fines unless they knew you had money, and prison would never be an issue. The sort of case Jesus is talking about here, are debts.

Matthew 5.25-26 KWL

25“Be reconciled with your opponent quickly

while you’re still on the road to court,

lest they hand you over to the judge,

the judge hand you over to his servant,

and you will be thrown into prison.

26Amen! I promise you:

You’re not coming out of there

till you’ve paid the last quadrans.”

Luke 12.57-59 KWL

57“Why can’t you judge what’s right on your own?

58For while you go with your opponent to the ruler,

while you’re still on the road to court,

make an effort to settle things between you,

lest they drag you before the judge,

the judge hand you over to the bailiff,

and the bailiff will throw you into prison.

59I tell you:

You may never come out of there

till you’ve paid the last lepton.”

In case you were curious: A lepton was the smallest Greek coin, a quadrans was the smallest Roman coin, and Mark says a quadrans was worth two lepta. Mk 12.42 The silver weight of a lepton is worth about 4 cents in present-day USD, meaning the quadrans was worth 8 cents.

Our God is the Father of Jesus.

We Christians worship God.

Which god is that? Well, we point out he’s the One God, יהוה/YHWH, “Jehovah” or “the LORD” (in all capitals, customarily), the God of Abraham, Isaac, Israel, Moses, David, and the Hebrew prophets. But both Jews and Muslims figure they worship that god too, so what makes us Christians any different from them?

Simple: Christians believe God’s a trinity—whereas they don’t. And we believe God’s uniquely the Father of Christ Jesus.

Uniquely the Father of Jesus. Because monotheists are generally agreed that God’s the Father of humanity. He created us, so he’s our Father. Duh. Says so in the bible. Moses, once when he was yelling at the Hebrews, said as much:

Deuteronomy 32.6 ESV

“Do you thus repay the LORD,

you foolish and senseless people?

Is not he your father, who created you,

who made you and established you?”

Throughout the Old Testament, God’s called the Hebrews’ father—and really everyone’s father, ’cause he made everyone. Jesus likewise calls him “your heavenly Father,” Mt 5.48 and compares our relationship with him like that of fathers with their kids. Lk 11.13 The whole point of his Prodigal Son Story Lk 15.11-32 is to describe our heavenly Father’s fatherly forgiveness.

Monotheists figure by the very same reasoning, of course God’s the Father of Jesus; he created Jesus same as he created you or me. But that’s where we Christians will say, “Wait; hold the phone; no he didn’t create Jesus. Jesus always existed. He’s God.”

Which’ll confuse them. Heck, it confuses Christians! If God’s the Father of Jesus, yet Jesus himself is God, we’ve got a paradox brewing, don’t we? Well, kinda. So we gotta explain how God’s a trinity: One God, three persons, one person’s the Father, another person’s the Son, and both of them are the one Being who is God.

When Jesus described his relationship to our heavenly Father, there’s something way different going on than we see between us and our Father. ’Cause Jesus describes himself as the Father’s only Son. You know how John 3.16 goes:

John 3.16 ESV

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

Jesus is our Father’s only Son, his unique Son, his Son in a way that I’m not. ’Cause you know the Lord’s Prayer; he’s our Father. Mt 6.9 Yet Jesus is the one and only Son.

Another paradox? Not really.

Jesus appears to Mary the Magdalene, in 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯.

John 20.11-18.

When we last saw Mary the Magdalene—well, in my previous article anyway—she was weeping outside Jesus’s sepulcher because she didn’t know where his body was. Had no idea he was alive. Even though he’d told his students more than once he’d rise again, she probably assumed this was just a metaphor, or figured he’d rise on the last day; certainly not millennia before the last day. (Pretty sure nobody in bible times realized Jesus would wait millennia before his second coming!)

Anyway Peter and John had come to check it out; they found nothing but the linen strips his corpse had been wrapped in. It was reallyunlikely anybody would unwrap the corpse, so that had to make ’em wonder. John said he believed, Jn 20.8 which probably means he believed Jesus is alive; but in the other gospels none of the Eleven appears to have believed it until Jesus himself showed up. In any event they left, and left Mary behind to weep in confusion.

Then she bothered to look into the sepulcher, as Peter and John had… and saw angels.

John 20.11-13 KWL

11…and Mary stood outside the sepulcher, weeping.

So as she’s weeping, she bends down

to look into the sepulcher.

12Mary sees two angels in white,

sitting where Jesus’s corpse had been laid;

one at the head and one at the feet.

13These angels tell her, “Woman, why do you weep?”

She tells them, “Because they took my Master,

and I don’t know where they put him.”

I’ve been in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which has the slab they placed Jesus’s corpse on… hidden beneath another slab. Too many pilgrims kept kissing it, and knowing the way the pilgrims in my tour group behaved, likely they kept trying to chisel souvenirs off it. The erosion would’ve whittled it away entirely, so the churches in charge of the sepulcher decided to cover it with marble. Meh; the slab’s hidden in there somewhere. Anyway it’s a nice long slab. Plenty of room for two human-sized angels to sit at either end, and not look like they were sitting right next to one another.

In the other gospels, the angels tell the women, “He is risen; he is not here,” Mk 16.6 but in John, Mary doesn’t give them a chance to reply. She turns round because she notices someone else is there.

Jewish Christians don’t need to become gentile. And vice versa.

1 Corinthians 7.18-20.

Just after Paul and Sosthenes instruct the Corinthians to not separate from their pagan spouses—unless, obviously, they demand it—they add a few more things which new Christians shouldn’t change about ourselves now that we’re Christian. Namely if they’re circumcised, and if they’re slaves. I’ll discuss the slaves another time. Circumcision first—and if you have any hangups about penises, you probably won’t wanna read any further.

1 Corinthians 7.18-20 KWL

18Were you circumcised when God called?

Don’t get a “pullover.”

Were you one of the “foreskins” when God called?

Don’t get circumcised.

19The circumcision doesn’t matter.

The foreskin doesn’t matter.

But keeping God’s commands does matter.

20In whatever calling you’re called,

remain in this.

I should remind you: Jews had an unfortunate habit of calling gentiles “foreskins,” as we see in verse 18. It was originally meant to be a slur; it still kinda is. But, same as when nonwhites call me a cracker, I’m quite sure the “foreskins” usually laughed it off. When you’re not an oppressed minority, slurs simply aren’t the same implied threat as they are when you are a minority.

Okay. I translated the word ἐπισπάσθω/epispástho in verse 18 as “pullover,” because that’s what ἐπισπάω/epispáo literally means: ἐπι/epi, “over,” and σπάω/spáo, “pull, draw, drag.” If “pullover” makes you think of what Americans call a “sweater,” that’s exactly the idea I was going for.

Nowadays if you go to the gym, people are only gonna see you nude in the locker room. But for ancient Greeks, you were nude the whole time. They exercised nude. Couldn’t get away from the nudity. Guaranteed men were gonna see your penis. And if you were circumcised, in a room full of uncircumcised Greeks, your penis was gonna look weird and wrong to everyone else. It’s not like the United States, where more than two-thirds of us are circumcised, and foreskins stand out: You were gonna stand out.

So someone came up with a procedure to “restore” one’s foreskin: Basically you pull the remaining skin of your penis over the glans as best you can, and get it to stay there. It’ll look enough like a foreskin. And yep, they called it an ἐπίσπασις/epíspasis, a “pullover.” (Although some Greek dictionaries will define epíspasis as “pulling in,” like when you suck into a straw… which is also kind of an apt description of what was going on here.)

Obviously some Pharisees, who already had a problem with Jews going to the gym and hanging out with buck naked gentiles, thought this was awful. Ritual circumcision signifies a formal relationship with God… and you’re hiding your circumcision? Hiding your relationship with God? You may as well be pagan!

I’m actually with the Pharisees on this one. As are, you notice, the apostles: Don’t get a “pullover.” Don’t try to undo the parts of your past which might embarrass you, but don’t actually matter in the long run. Just follow Jesus.