The Origin of Origins

I've come across the old saw about Christian holidays being little more than "borrowings" from old pagan festivals, and although there is truth there, the facts are far hazier (like a lot of history) than people are willing to acknowledge.

Really, the question comes down to this: which came first? True worship of God or pagan festivals? Did pagans invent rest and festival or did God first rest on the sabbath?

Is Christianity truly a latecomer, so informed by the pagan world that surrounded its own nativity that it becomes impossible to separate it from "worldliness" except by strict surgical methods? (i.e. Eschewing Christmas, Easter, All Hallow's and adhering to a stern "1st century Christian" practice) Does sola scriptura extend to all practices, not just theology? If so, how does one recognize St. Paul's appeal to personal conscience (which is scriptural, obviously)?

What, then, do we do about Melchizidek? How do we explain the seed of Christian belief that is planted at cursing of Satan in the Garden?

In Genesis, we see the birth of pagan festival ("you will be like gods") almost concurrent with the seed of Christian faith ("He shall crush your head.") The author of Hebrews reflects on Genesis when he speaks of the faith of Abel, of Enoch, of Noah, etc. all of whom "were sure of what they hoped for, and certain of what they did not see."

What was it that these early people hoped for? What was it that they did not see?

Christ.

The primacy of Christ is well acknowledged, but somehow, we resort to fallible human histories when worrying about the "pagan origins" of Christian practice. What then, are the true origins of pagan copies? From what do they draw their inspiration?

Green Light Believer

I'm not one to sizzle about sermons. A good sermon should speak, specifically, to the people being addressed. A good sermon will, primarily, give the listeners something to do, not something to talk about.

I've heard "good" sermons that gave me something to talk about, but I can't remember any of those. I've also heard sermons that taught me to pray, to fast, to witness, to serve, to be baptized, to change. I remember each one of those, because I'm still trying to live them today.

I have to say that the sermon on Sunday was both "good" and purposeful.*

To (brutally) sum up what was a work of beauty - the sermon demonstrated that if you've been waiting on direction from God, just recognize that He's already told you what you've asked Him for. When Gideon laid out the second fleece, he'd already received two convincing signs before that...and before that, had been told explicitly by God what to do. What we often use as a model (laying out a fleece, asking for a miracle/sign) for our relationship with God's will in our life is actually a model of what not to do!

God speaks in his Word. He speaks to his followers. Speaks, not "will speak," not "might speak."

Why do we ask for signs while God is talking to us? When my boss tells me to do something, I don't then ask for a sign!

That's the "thinky" part, the "good" sermon that tickles my ears, but what makes it great is that it changed me, too. That Sunday morning, I came to church something of a "Red Light" follower, waiting for clear direction from God to do anything. I left a "Green Light" Believer, and started doing things (witnessing, praying, writing), without signs or clarity, and figuring that IF what I do eventually becomes something that places me in opposition to God's will that...

...he'll give me a sign.

Until then, I'm going to approach the mission field sort of like the Monkees approach pirates. (It probably doesn't help if you change the lyrics slightly in your head, to "Green Light Believer." But now you are going to try, anyway.)



Poor mission field. Poor, poor mission field.

I hope this doesn't encourage my pastor to attempt less effective sermons on my account.

*At last check, the sermon wasn't yet up and available online. It will be soon here. Until then, you can catch up on a few previous lessons. Or not. What am I, your mother? (I'm not your mother, am I? Send paperwork if you think this might be the case, because I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that.)

From Malachi to Matthew

I can't recreate the sensation of living through the entire history of the world through the Old Testament and the subsequent "familiar shock" that arrives in the God-man Jesus portrayed in the book of St. Matthew.

I can only recommend that you attempt it. God is real and alien; strange and family; omnipotent and weak; omniscient and humble. There are only two thing stranger than the idea that God was born a man in order to save some humans: the first is that he told us, in great detail, for millenia, that he was going to do it (and we still didn't get it) and the second is that there are so, so many humans who don't believe it now even though it has already happened.

Poor, stupid humans. I've seen tar that reflects more light.

Today, my name is Jezebel.

Caught the "other" Peanuts Christmas special last night for the second time this season. This is not the famous "pathetic tree - Linus as St. Luke" one (i.e. A Charlie Brown Christmas), but the one that came decades later, which consists of little vignettes taken from orginal Christmas-themed comic strips.

My favorite one is about the little girl who changes her name every day, confounding Linus.

"Today," she says, "My name is Jezebel."

Linus explains to her that Jezebel was the evil wife of King Ahab in 2nd Kings in the Old Testament, and that her servants threw her from a window and she landed on her head. (He doesn't mentioned that dogs ate her up, though. I think his point had been driven home before he had to continue.)

The girl replies, "Today, my name is Susan."

As soon as she sees that she has identified herself with an unseemly person, she "converts" without thought.

I think it is important to identify with all people in the bible. We're quick to see characters in black and white terms - Solomon, good, Nebuchadnezzer, bad. Noah, good, Goliath, bad. If we identify with any character, it is usually the idealized "good" one, not the fully realized "semi-good" one and never the stereotypical "bad" ones.

But we miss our own sins that way. If we only identify with Job when we are suffering, we miss both the hazards of his slow-burning impatience with God's justice AND the riches of his redemption. If we don't stand in the shoes of Balaam, we miss how God's Word thwarts attempts to twist itself.

Our eyes can be clouded from any righteousness which may be credited to us if we only identify with sanitized models of real people.

I am Goliath of Gath. I am Jeroboam. I am Jonah. I am Pharoah. I am Saul.

And today, my name is Jezebel.