Our dead won’t stay dead.

1 Thessalonians 4.13-14.

The Greeks claimed when you died, you went to the netherworld. Specifically, you went to the god of the netherworld, Ἅ́δης/Ádis (or as the Romans called him, Pluto; or as well call him, Hades; no, he’s not a bad guy like the movies make him out to be, although he did kidnap Persephone) and he determined where you went.

• Good people went to Ἠλύσιον/Ilýsion, a continent or island in the far west (you know, like where the Elves went in The Lord of the Rings), full of green fields.
• Bad people went to Τάρταρος/Tártaros, a place as deep below Ádis as he was below earth, to be imprisoned with the Titans whom Zeus defeated when he took over the world.
• Special cases, like Dionýsios and Iraklís (whom the Romans called Hercules) were turned into gods, and lived with them on Ὀλυμπος/Ólympos—a literal mountain near Thessaloniki, where the Greeks imagined the gods lived when they weren’t busy on adventures.
• The rest stayed with Ádis as he determined what to do with them.

Other than Ólympos, all these places were spirit worlds: Once you died, you weren’t coming back. Not that people didn’t want ’em back; some Greek myths told of living people who went to Ádis and begged him for one of the spirits he kept. He rarely said yes—it’s why he was called Ádis the Adamant—and even when he did, the myth’s hero usually botched the rescue and lost the dead person forever. Dead stayed dead.

And really, claimed Greek philosophers, you didn’t wanna come back to life. Life meant decay. You were in an aging human body, which’d eventually succumb to entropy. But in the spirit world, there was no such thing as matter, and no matter means no decay. So being a spirit is way better than being alive and material.

This belief isn’t just a Greek one. Lots of religions teach it. The ancient Egyptians believed Osiris came back from the dead like Jesus… but not back to our physical world; he left to rule the netherworld. Buddhists aspire to escape the Hindu cycle of reincarnation and rebirth, and remain pure spirit, i.e. join the universe. Even Christians figure, “When I die I’m gonna live forever in a spirit body”—which they insist is most definitely not a material one.

In contrast the Pharisees insisted God’s plan is to bring people back to life. Material, physical life.

Simon Peter denounces Jesus.

Mark 14.66-72, Matthew 26.69-75, Luke 22.54-62, John 18.15-18, 25-27.

After dinner earlier that night, Jesus told his students they weren’t gonna follow him much longer; they’d scatter. At this point Jesus’s best student, Simon Peter, got up and foolhardily claimed this prediction didn’t apply to him.

Mark 14.29-31 KWL

29 Simon Peter told him, “If everyone else will get tripped up, it won’t include me.”

30 Jesus told him, “Amen, I promise you today, this night,

before the rooster crows twice, you’ll renounce me thrice.”

31 Peter said emphatically, “Even if I have to die for you,

I will never renounce you.” Everyone else said likewise.

And y’know, Peter wasn’t kidding. I’ve heard way too many sermons which mock Peter for this, who claim he was all talk. Thing is, he really wasn’t. When Jesus was arrested, Peter was packing a machete, and used it. Slashed a guy’s ear clean off. You don’t start swinging a work knife at a mob unless you’re willing to risk life and limb. Peter really was ready to fight to the death for Jesus.

But Jesus’s response was to cure the guy, then rebuke Peter: Jesus could stop his arrest at any time, but chose not to. Having a weapon was only gonna get Peter killed. Peter thought he was following God’s will, but he was in fact tripping up. And Jesus did say his students σκανδαλισθήσεσθε/skandalisthísesthe, “would be tripped up,” by the later events of that day. Despite his repeated warnings he was gonna die, his students kept expecting the Pharisee version of the End Times to unfold, where Messiah would destroy the Romans and take his throne… and instead Messiah got killed by the Romans.

This sort of turn of events would knock the zeal right out of anyone. Y’know how Peter later would up saying he didn’t know Jesus? At the time, he kinda didn’t. Thought he did; totally got him wrong. We all do, sometimes.

See, Peter was having a crisis of faith. Every Christian, if they’re truly following Jesus, is gonna have a point in our lives where we have to get rid of our immature misunderstandings about Jesus. And some of us fight tooth ’n nail to keep those misunderstandings. Even enshrine ’em. But in so doing, it means we’re not gonna grow in Christ any further. The Holy Spirit is trying to get us over that stumbling block, but we insist it’s not a block; it’s a wall.

To his credit, Peter didn’t scatter. He followed the mob, who took Jesus to the former head priest’s house, where Jesus had his unofficial trial before the proper trial before the Judean senate.

John 18.15-18 KWL

15 Simon Peter and another student followed Jesus.

That student was known by the head priest.

He went in, with Jesus, to the head priest’s courtyard.

16 Peter stood at the door outside.

So the other student, known to the head priest, came out and spoke to the doorman, who brought Peter in.

17 The doorman, a slavewoman, told Peter, “Aren’t you also one of this person’s students?”

Peter said, “I’m not.”

18 The slaves and servants stationed there had made a charcoal fire; it was cold.

They warmed themselves. Peter was also with them, standing and warming.

This’d be the first denial. But Jesus didn’t just say Peter would deny him, or pretend he didn’t know him, or pretend he didn’t follow him. Peter ἀπαρνήσῃ/aparnísi, “will entirely reject,” will renounce, his Lord. Mk 14.30 It’s not a white lie so he could merely stay out of trouble; Peter went overboard and publicly quit Jesus. Really.

Good thing he could take it back. As can we. But, y’know, don’t quit him, okay?

On violently resisting Jesus’s arrest.

Mark 14.47, Matthew 26.51-54,
Luke 22.49-51, John 18.10-11.

After sundown Thursday, Jesus and his students had a Passover meal, which Christians call “the Last Supper.” After it, Jesus had some things to tell them, and in that discussion there’s this:

Luke 22.35-38 KWL

35 Jesus tells them, “When I sent you out

without a wallet, bag, or extra sandals,

you didn’t lack anything, did you?

They tell him, “Nothing.”

36 Jesus tells them, “But now:

Those who have a wallet, take it. Your bag too.

Those who don’t have one: Sell your coat and buy a machete.

37 For I tell you this scripture has to be fulfilled in me:

‘He was counted among the lawless.’ Is 53.12

For the scriptures about me have an endpoint.”

38 The students say, “Master, look!—two machetes here.”

Jesus tells them, “That’s plenty.”

This passage confuses people—usually because of the way it’s typically translated.

Luke 22.36, 38 NIV

36 He said to them, “But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one.” […]

38 The disciples said, “See, Lord, here are two swords.”

“That’s enough!” he replied.

Typically the way Christians interpret it is Jesus (for whatever their favorite reasons might be) told ’em to sell their coats and buy swords—but he meant it metaphorically. He was telling ’em some sort of parable. He didn’t literally want them to buy swords; he wasn’t trying to start an armed uprising or anything. We misunderstand. And the students likewise misunderstood, and were quick to point out to Jesus, “Oh no problem, Master, we’ve already got two swords!”—to which Jesus had to angrily respond, “Wait, what’re you actually doing with swords? You homicidal numbskulls, stop it. You’re missing my point again.”

I won’t get into all the possible interpretations of what Jesus’s “metaphor” supposedly is. Because Jesus wasn’t speaking metaphorically. He really did want his students to go get themselves machetes. Because there’s a big difference between the purpose of a machete and a sword. A machete is a work knife. Not a Roman gladius, a double-sided short sword. This is a μάχαιραν/máheran, a long, broad, single-edged work knife. I’m not translating it “machete” to be different: That’s what it is. That’s all it is.

Despite what Danny Trejo action movies might have you believe, a machete is not meant for battle or fighting. It kinda sucks for fighting; a trained soldier with a gladius will easily take out anybody who’s only carrying a máheran. But it can stab, cut, and kill; it can do damage. Machetes have been historically used for warfare—same as pitchforks, axes, hammers, and tomahawks—’cause when the poor had to fight and didn’t have access to proper weapons, you work with what you have.

So when Jesus tells ’em to sell their coats and buy machetes, he’s properly telling them to give up their comforts and get tools. It’s time to get to work and help him build his kingdom.

But of course if you’re an ivory-tower revolutionary and haven’t worked with your hands in years, y’might miss that little nuance of reality. And think Jesus really is talking about swords—but not really talking about swords, because God’s kingdom doesn’t come through violent human revolutions, right? I mean, most of us get this… even though Jesus’s students clearly didn’t.

Got all that? Now let’s jump forward a few hours to when Jesus got arrested… where, it turns out, Simon Peter had taken one of those two machetes with him.

Jesus’s arrest, and his abuse begins.

Mark 14.45-52, Matthew 26.50-56, Luke 22.49-54, John 18.4-12.

The second station, in John Paul’s list of stations of the cross, is where Judas betrayed Jesus and Jesus was arrested. Same station for both. But different forms of suffering: Judas was about when your friends or confidants turn on you, and the rest was about the pain and dread people feel when their enemies have ’em right where they want ’em.

Let’s go to the gospels.

Mark 14.45-52 KWL

45 Immediately going to Jesus,

Judas tells him, “Rabbi!” and kisses him hello.

46 So the mob grabs and arrests him.

47 One of the bystanders, pulling out a machete,

strikes the head priest’s slave, and cuts his ear off.

48 In reply, Jesus tells them, “You come out with machetes and sticks

to snatch me away, like I’m an insurgent.

49 Daytime, I was with you in the temple, teaching.

You didn’t arrest me then.

But this—it’ll fulfill the scriptures.”

50 Abandoning Jesus, everyone flees.

51 There was some teenager following him who was naked, wearing a toga.

They seize him,

52 but he abandons his toga and flees naked.

 

Matthew 26.50-56 KWL

50 Jesus tells Judas, “Brother, why have you come?”

Then the approaching mob throws their hands on Jesus

and seizes him.

51 Look, one of those with Jesus stretches out his hand,

draws his machete,

and striking the head priest’s slave,

cuts off his ear.

52 Then Jesus tells him, “Put your machete back in its place!

For everyone who chooses arms

will be destroyed by arms.

53 Or do you think I can’t call out to my Father,

and he will give me, right now,

more than 12 legions of angels?

54 But then how might the scriptures be fulfilled?

So this has to happen.”

55 At this time, Jesus tells the crowd, “You come out

with machetes and sticks to snatch me away,

like I’m an insurgent.

Daytime, I was sitting in the temple, teaching.

You didn’t arrest me then.

56 This is all happening so the prophets’ writings can be fulfilled.”

Then all the students abandon him and run.

 

Luke 22.49-54 KWL

49 Seeing what those round them intend to do,

the students say, “Master, should we strike with a machete?”

50 One hit a certain one of them—the head priest’s slave—

and cuts his right ear off.

51 In response Jesus says, “That’s enough!”

and touching the ear, Jesus cures him.

52 Jesus tells those who come for him—head priests, temple guards, and elders—

“You come out with machetes and sticks like I’m an insurgent.

53 Daytime, I was with you in the temple. You didn’t grab me then.

But this is your hour—the power of darkness.”

54 They arrest him, lead him away, and bring him to the head priest’s house.

Simon Peter is following at a distance.

 

John 18.4-12 KWL

4 So Jesus, who already knew everything coming upon him,

comes forth and tells them, “Whom are you looking for?”

5 They answer him, “Jesus the Nazarene.”

Jesus tells them, “I’m him.”

Judas his betrayer had been standing with them.

6 So when Jesus tells them, “I’m him,”

they move backward and fall to the ground.

7 So again Jesus asks them, “Whom are you looking for?”

They say, “Jesus the Nazarene.”

8 Jesus answers, “I tell you I’m him,

so if it’s me you look for,

leave these others alone to go away,”

9 so he might fulfill the word which he says, namely this:

“I’ve not lost anyone whom you’ve given me.” Jn 17.12

10 Simon Peter, having a machete, draws it

and strikes the head priest’s slave; he slices off his right ear.

The slave’s name was Malchus.

11 So Jesus tells Peter, “Sheath your machete.

This is the cup the Father gave me. Shouldn’t I drink it?”

12 So the 200 men, the general, and the Judean servants

arrest Jesus and tie him up.

Some people don’t wanna argue. And they’re entirely right not to.

Back in 2017 an acquaintance of mine started an “apologetics ministry.” It’s kinda defunct now.

Initially it consisted of his blog, his Twitter account, and a whole bunch of his spare time. (You know, like TXAB—except I don’t do apologetics.) Except he also created a 501(c)3 nonprofit corporation, got some friends to be his board members, and solicited donations. He was hoping to turn it into a full-time job… and got really irritated at me for calling it “getting paid to sit in his pajamas all day and argue with strangers on the internet.” But that is what he was doing.

In his mind, he was doing it for Jesus. He figured apologetics is a vital, necessary ministry, and there simply aren’t enough Christians out there… arguing with strangers on the internet, whether they spend all day in their jammies or not.

Like I said, his “ministry” is defunct now. He’s taken to arguing politics. Political organizations aren’t allowed under the 501(c)3 tax code, so I’m pretty sure he’s either no longer accepting donations, or totally breaking the law. As for apologetics, I guess he’s left that to all the other folks who continue to do the very same thing. Many have actually made a career of it. There’s like an army of pajama-clad Christian warriors, armed with the “sword of the Spirit”—and stabbing away at flesh and blood. Ep 6.12-17

Every so often these “ministries” beg me for money. I don’t sign up for their mailing lists. I get put on them ’cause they figure a Christian blogger should be sympathetic to their “plights,” i.e. a salary so they no longer have to work their day job at Kroger. One group has an office in the back of their church building, and (I kid you not) asked everybody on their mailing list for a donation ’cause they wanted to buy an espresso machine. Nope; no $40 Mr. Coffee device with bonus frothing pitcher; they wanted a commercial machine and a full-on coffee bar. Ostensibly so people could come to the office, have a cappuccino or two with them, and debate Jesus. Really because maybe their readers are suckers generous enough to free them from having to hit the Starbucks drive-thru twice a day. Google Maps revealed their office was in an out-of-the-way office park, so I’m entirely sure the only ones partaking of donor-supported espresso would be them. I unsubscribed from their mailing list with extreme prejudice.

Entitled first-worlders aside, if you’re getting the idea I’m not jazzed about such “ministries,” you’d be so right.

Why? ’Cause argumentativeness is a work of the flesh.

Galatians 4.19-21 NRSV

19 Now the works of the flesh are obvious: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, 20 idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, 21 envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.

“Quarrels,” in verse 20, translates ἐριθεῖαι/eritheíe, “picking fights” or “starting intrigues.” Its root is the word ἔρις/éris, “strife.” In Greek mythology, Eris was the goddess who started a fight between the ruling goddesses over who was the prettiest, and their bickering escalated into the Trojan War. So this word is entirely about picking fights.

But of course argumentative Christians—some of whom translate bibles—have muted this word, or translated it as things they personally don’t think they’re tempted by. The KJV’s “strife” makes it sound like full-on war, and they’re not doing that! The NASB, NIV, and NLT prefer “selfish ambition”—and yeah, we get into pretty heavy denial about how selfish our ambitions are, but that’s still not the best translation. Neither is the ESV’s “rivalries,” nor the MEV and RSV’s simple “selfishness.”

Argumentative Christians wanna fight. And the only fight they can justify to themselves, outside of misbegotten ideas about “spiritual warfare,” is arguing people into God’s kingdom. Not just sharing Jesus like an evangelist; shoving people towards him, like a bully. Proselytism.

In such people’s hands, the gospel is no longer good news. It’s bad. The fruit of such tactics are people who flinch at the gospel, and think all Christians are likewise jerks. If they actually succeed in winning people over, we just wind up with more argumentative Christians: More people who think it’s okay to be a dick to all people, that they might by all means save some.

I’m gonna take a break to throw things, then be right back to rebuke this idea further.

Encouragement to a persecuted church.

1 Thessalonians 4.9-12.

Though the Thessalonians appeared to be doing just fine, behaving themselves and living a holy lifestyle, Paul, Silas, and Timothy just wanted to reiterate a few things for their encouragement. It needed repeating.

Likewise we need to be reminded of such things, from time to time. Even though we may not suffering to any persecution remotely like that of the Thessalonians—and therefore have even less of a justification for not loving one another, loving our neighbors, and not living uprightly towards outsiders. (Not that suffering is any justification anyway.)

1 Thessalonians 4.9-12 KWL

9 As for loving one’s Christian family, we needn’t write you:

You yourselves are taught by God himself to love one another,

10 and you do it throughout the Christian family,

throughout the whole of Macedon.

We wish to help you, fellow Christians, so you can abound more—

11 to love the value of rest,

to do your own work with your own hands,

just as we commanded you.

12 Thus you might honestly walk to help those outside,

and none of you might be needy.

Under any pressure, people’s tempers get shortened, and we tend to turn on one another. Mostly that’s because people don’t love one another; we’re only looking out for ourselves. Even in families which supposedly care about one another, our self-centeredness, our self-preservation instinct, too often comes first.

But when we do love one another, persecution gets us to rely on one another, and care for one another, all the more. Self-preservation turns into group self-preservation: We recognize the other parts of Christ’s body likewise need to be cared for, and the weaker members all the more.

The apostles didn’t have to teach the Thessalonians this. God already had. They were θεοδίδακτοί/theo-dídaktí, “God-taught,” or as I put it, “taught by God himself.” We can’t deduce from the text how God taught it; was it a product of the Spirit’s fruit, or did the Holy Spirit have to tell one of his prophets to tell the rest? Maybe a little of both.

In any event it’s a good teaching, and the apostles didn’t feel the need to add to it. The Thessalonians had a good handle on how to love one another. Something we all need to do, whether times are tough or not. While times are easy, let’s develop it; when times get tough, we’ll absolutely need it.

“The spirit of…”

SPIRIT OF… 'spɪ.rɪt əv noun, genitive. A quality considered the defining or typical element in the character of a person, people, or institution.

2. A supernatural being creating or facilitating that element.

Pagans don’t know what spirit is, and their best guess is emotion: Spirit is the feeling you get when a speaker talks about stuff you care about—or stuff that terrifies you. Spirit is the emotions stirred up by a great piece of music or a great work of art. Spirit is the mood in the room when you enter it, and it’ll either make you want to stick around or flee. Spirit is the vibes you feel from a really positive or really negative person. Spirit is the feels.

No surprise, this false definition is all over Christianity. So much so, people think the way you detect the Holy Spirit, or some other evil spirit, is by our feelings. If the spirit of a room is all dark and creepy, it means there’s an evil spirit in there, trying to tempt or mislead you; your feelings are how you supernaturally discerned this. Conversely if the spirit of a room is all bright and cheerful, it’s the Holy Spirit, or some ministering angel, or maybe even Jesus making an appearance, visible or not.

To be fair, your emotions are a clue… that something’s affecting your emotions. But it’s naïve to assume the effector is always a spirit. It might just be you had a really good lunch. Or you had a bad day, you’re now in a place you don’t wanna be, and you’re looking for any excuse to leave. Or there’s something about a person’s behavior that really bugs you, and you can’t put your finger on it… and it’s his cologne, but you don’t currently remember your least favorite gym teacher used to reek of it, and your “bad vibes” are really just part of a bad memory. This is where natural discernment has to be practiced.

But it’s much easier to practice no discernment whatsoever, and leap to the conclusion, “I feel funny—because the room is haunted.” Yeah, you don’t know that.

Anyway this is where we come up with the Christianese meaning of “the spirit of” anything: They read the emotion in a room—or project their own emotions on the entire room—and conclude there’s a spirit causing the room to feel this way. Could be Jesus; could be Satan.

Can God’s word “return void”?

Isaiah 55.11.

So one night I and my friend Jason (not his real name, and you’ll soon see why) were walking from the car to the coffeehouse. Enroute some vagrant asked us for spare change. Jason got it into his head this was a “divine opportunity”: It’s time to proclaim the gospel to this person! It’s time to get him saved.

That’s how we wasted the next 15 minutes. Yep, wasted. Because the vagrant was. Either he was drunk, or off his meds, or had recently suffered a head injury, or otherwise had some condition which made him incoherent. Jason asked him questions to determine whether he understood the gospel… and the guy would start rambling about how he believed men and women should be together. In which context I don’t know. (Hey, this article is about context, so I had to bring it up at some point.)

Jason kinda had this poor guy cornered in a doorway, pressuring him for some sorta confession of faith. Finally, after he extracted something he considered satisfactory, we went and got that coffee. And debated whether the interaction did the poor vagrant any good.

“He’s not gonna remember any of that in the morning,” I commented.

“He will so!” Jason insisted. “That’s the word of God in him now. It won’t return void.”

If you’re not familiar with Christianese you may not understand the “return void“ bit. I once had a pastor try to explain it this way: “It’s like you send someone a check, but they don’t cash it and send it back to you with ‘void’ written on the front of it.” Why anyone would do this, I don’t know. But no, it’s not what the verse means. Here’s the verse:

Isaiah 55.11 KJV

So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

Here’s what Jason, and plenty of Christians like him, believes: Let’s say we share Jesus with someone, but the someone won’t believe what we tell them, no matter what. Well, take comfort in the fact God’s word—which is what we shared with them, ’cause it’s either based on bible, or contains a whole lot of bible quotes—doesn’t “return void.” It does exactly what it’s meant to, and puts the gospel in ’em. Even though it totally doesn’t appear to, ’cause the person resists it for years, it eventually worms into their soul and does something to ’em. It just does.

Why’s this? ’Cause it’s God’s word. So it’s been infused with supernatural divine power.

Redeemer: Somebody like Jesus who bails us out. Or not.

REDEEM rə'dim verb. Compensate for the flaws, deficiencies, or evil of something or someone.

2. Save someone from sin, error, or evil.

3. Gain or regain something, in exchange for payment; repay, or clear a debt.

4. Fulfill a promise.

[Redemption rə'dɛm(p).ʃən noun, redeemer rə'dim.ər noun, redeemable rə'di.mə.bəl adjective.]

When people talk about redeeming or redemption, if they’re not Christian they’re usually talking about recycling cans and bottles. In California when you buy something in a recyclable container, you’re charged an extra fee (the California redemption value, or CRV) which we’re meant to get back when we take the container to a recycling center. Although not everybody bothers to get their CRV back; they toss it in a recycling bin. Or even the trash—and then someone else will go digging through the trash looking for recyclables, hoping for that sweet, sweet CRV money.

Christian redemption isn’t quite like that… although I have actually heard a sermon or two about Jesus recycling sinners. Supposedly God created us with an inherent value, but by sinning, we’re throwing ourselves in the trash… and I guess Jesus is gonna be the guy who fishes us out of the trash and gets our full value. Meh; it’s a shaky simile.

The Christianese term has to do with saving someone from sin, error, or evil. And properly, it has to do with debt. In the bible, the LORD ordered the Hebrews to not just abandon family members to circumstances, to debt, and to poverty: They were to help them.

Leviticus 25.25 NASB

“&thinsp‘If a fellow countryman of yours becomes so poor that he sells part of his property, then his closest redeemer is to come and buy back what his relative has sold.’ ”

The “closest redeemer” (Hebrew גֹֽאֲלוֹ֙ הַקָּרֹ֣ב/gohélo ha-qaróv) actually means “next-of-kin redeemer.” It’s not automatically your closest male relative; not every man had the wherewithal to actually redeem anyone. It’s your closest relative who’s a patriarch, the head of a significant family. It’s the closest relative who can afford to help you.

This redeemer bought back the property. If you sold your oxen—and these weren’t really oxen you could spare; you kinda needed them to plow your field—your redeemer bought ’em back and returned them to you. If you sold your home, your redeemer bought it back and returned it to you. If you sold your farm, your redeemer bought it back and returned it to you. Getting the idea? If you were destitute, and even had to sell yourself into slavery, your redeemer bought you back and freed you.

Your redeemer didn’t buy back your property so he could retain possession of it, and let you live on his farm, in his house, plowing with his oxen, with him as your lord and you his serf. Nope, he gave them back to you. Because you’re family, and God had made your redeemer wealthy enough to do for family.

Yeah, it’s not a mindset we find at all among most Americans. Even Christians.

Now called to a holy lifestyle.

1 Thessalonians 4.1-8.

Since Paul, Silas, and Timothy now know the Thessalonians haven’t fallen away from Christ Jesus, they wanted to encourage them: Good job. Keep it up.

And do more. Remember, God’s called us Christians to be uniquely holy. That’s more than just being good, ’cause just about anybody can be good, with effort… plus a fear of bad karma. God isn’t interested in that. He doesn’t just want us to be pagans saved by grace who happen to hold better beliefs than average. He wants us to stand out from the rest of the world. Like Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 4.1-8 KWL

1 So from now on fellow Christians, we ask you—

we wish to help, in Master Jesus’s name so,

same as you received from us information on how one has to walk and please God,

same as you already do walk—so you can abound more:

2 You know which mandates we gave you through Master Jesus:

3 This is God’s will: Your holiness.

To keep yourselves away from porn.

4 For each of you to know your own baggage.

To acquire that baggage through holiness and honor—

5 not through a desire to suffer, like a people who doesn’t know God.

6 Not through violating and exploiting the acts of your fellow Christians,

because the Master avenges everything, just as we foretold and witnessed to you.

7 For God doesn’t call us to uncleanness, but to holiness.

8 Consequently one who ignores this isn’t ignoring a mere human,

but God, who gives his Holy Spirit to you all.

God’s goal for his followers, is for us to be holy like him. Lv 28.7 To be unlike everybody else. The other verses get specific about ways the Thessalonians in particular could be holier, and naturally there’s a lot of overlap between their culture and ours. Christians oughta have certain distinctives which indicate we’re following God’s expectations, not the world’s; not popular culture’s. Sadly we don’t always live up to what God wants for us.