My thoughts, for some reason, wandered to the apostle Thomas today, a guy who’s had the bad luck to be remembered primarily for the weakest moment of his life. Hence his lasting nickname, “Doubting Thomas.”

If you’re one of our younger readers, it’s fairly likely you don’t know who I’m talking about. So I’ll share a short passage from the Gospel of John, just after the resurrected Jesus has appeared to His apostles (John 20:24-29):

Now Thomas (called Dydymus¹), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”

But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.”

A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Countless preachers have railed about Thomas’s doubting, but what’s impressed me about the story has always been Jesus’s graciousness. I have the feeling that if a medieval writer had composed the story, he’d have had Jesus appear in a blast of lightning, striking Thomas deaf, dumb and blind. Then he’d have Jesus declare, “Woe to him that doubteth. Those carnal senses in which he trusted, behold, they shall be taken from him forever, and he himself shall abide in eternal fire.” Continue reading Stand-up Thomas →

Today, by coincidence, is my birthday. Oddly enough, it fell on the exact same date last year. I wonder if that qualifies me for a Guinness World Record.

A dear friend bought me a steak dinner after work. Unfortunately, that dear friend was myself, but we didn’t let that spoil the festivities.

I came up with a question in my Bible reading the other day, and wondered if any of our erudite readers know the answer to it.

I was reading the account of the Resurrection in Luke 24:10, where it talks about the women who went to the tomb on Sunday morning, found it empty, and reported it to the disciples. “It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles.”

There’s a parallel passage in Mark 16:1: “When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body.”

There’s also an earlier reference to this woman in Mark 15:40: “Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome.”

So here’s what I’m wondering. Scholars have pondered this previously unmentioned Mary, one among so many Marys who keep popping up in the gospels. Has it ever occurred to anybody to argue that this Mary might actually be Mary the mother of the Lord?

We know that the Lord had a brother named James, who became the head of the Jerusalem church. And an otherwise unmentioned brother named Joses (perhaps named after his father Joseph) isn’t unthinkable. If you’re Catholic you’d insist that the Virgin Mary wasn’t the mother of James, but the stepmother. But she could still be called his mother informally.

Why doesn’t it say, “Mary, the mother of the Lord?” I don’t know. Modesty? Fear of the authorities?

Another objection would be that James, the Lord’s brother, has traditionally been called James the Elder (I think) rather than James the Younger. My theory would require that tradition to be wrong.

Catholics probably wouldn’t take to this idea, though I might point out that it would give a biblical foundation to all those “Pieta” statues.

But my main question is, has anyone suggested this before? Or is it too dumb for anyone to have suggested before?

Because I know so many of you have this on your bucket lists, I offer the video below. It’s film of me doing a reading of one of my Norwegian translations for a meeting of the Georg Sverdrup Society, last winter.

The Willmar Meeting and Lay Activity – Georg Sverdrup Translation from Tim Larson on Vimeo.

A couple cautions are in order. It’s a big file, and may take a while to load. Also the sound level is low. Also I have an irritating mannerism which looks as if I’m trying to suck popcorn husks out of my teeth (I believe I had a cough drop in my mouth).

And finally, for my high church Lutheran friends, you may find the subject matter blood pressure-raising.

Have a good weekend.

Glenn Stanton writes about a popular quotation that isn’t something he actually said: FactChecker: Misquoting Francis of Assisi. Francis preached the gospel with words often, but he did emphasize the need for personal devotion before preaching, so that his true passion for the Lord will pour forth in his public speech and actions.

First, a personal notice. I’m leaving tomorrow morning for a Scandinavian festival in Stromsburg, Nebraska, so I won’t be posting anything. Be strong.

Over at The American Culture, where I cross-post now and then, Mike D’Virgilio has some thoughtful comments on the historical revisionism—distressingly popular among young evangelicals—that blames the “culture wars” in America on conservatives. I suppose if you weren’t around at the time, you can be excused for believing that kind of nonsense.

Below, a short history of religion in America as I suppose it’s taught in schools nowadays. (In case you’re new to this blog, the material below is satire. If you don’t know what satire is, look it up.)

In the beginning, an earnest group of Deists founded the United States. In order to protect the country from the fearful ravages of religion, they included in the first amendment of the Constitution a guarantee that the right to religion, and “the free exercise thereof,” might not be infringed upon by the government. Why they expressed it quite that way, when their clear purpose was to protect the people from all public expression of religion, remains a mystery.

Throughout the course of our nation’s history, religion has always been taboo in public life. No public figure ever prayed, or called for prayer, or defended his policies on the basis of the Bible. That was not done. The average citizen, in fact, never entered a church, and had no idea what the Bible has to say.

Throughout the greatest crises of our nation, the idea of calling on God was never even considered. The movement to abolish slavery, led by such stalwart secularists as Sojourner Truth, John Brown, and Rev. (the Rev. stood for Revisionist) Henry Ward Beecher, proudly proclaimed the equality of all people based on evolutionary science. Julia Ward Howe’s classic song, “The Battle Ballad of the Republic,” with its classic lines, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the horde,” expressed the humanitarian, humanist philosophy that united Americans (even when they were shooting at each other).

In the late 19th Century, the entirely secular Progressive Movement found a presidential candidate in that staunch secularist, William Jennings Bryan (who, probably under the influence of a brain lesion, later became the only American of his generation to question the theory of evolution). Another progressive cause was Prohibition, spearheaded by the entirely secular Women’s Skeptical Temperance Union.

It wasn’t until the 1950s that an insidious conspiracy of Christian fundamentalists wormed its way into American life, and started banning a lot of traditional freedoms that Americans had always cherished, like abortion and gay marriage. Where these religious fanatics came from is a mystery, since such people had never before been seen in this country. But it is the duty of all patriotic Americans to oppose them in their crusade to take away our precious constitutional rights to “choice, security, and the guarantee of happiness.” (This original wording from the Declaration of Independence has recently been restored by the Federal Department of Deconstruction Criticism.)

As General Custer once said, “The west would be nice, peaceful place, if those Indians hadn’t sneaked in and started causing trouble.”

Any author, if he can’t claim to be a commercial success, will find comfort in discovering that he’s got what they call a “cult following.” I’m bemused to discover that I seem to be developing a cult following of my own in an area where I’d never have looked for it—pastors and theologians of the Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod.

Professor Gene Edward Veith and Concordia Publishing House publisher Paul T. McCain were early boosters, for whose support I’m extremely grateful. More recently I’ve added “Aardvark” of Aardvark Alley and Pastor Charles Lehman, who posted the following measured evaluation of Troll Valley on Facebook last night:

Lars Walker is a genius. This is indisputable fact and not up for debate. If you disagree with me then one or more of the following are true:

1. You’ve never read any of his books.

2. You’re an idiot.

3. You are a vampire or some other variety of mythical being that lacks a soul.

4. You are Kristin Cashore or Stephanie Meyer.*

*Yes, I do realize that after writing #3 that #4 is redundant.

A recent addition is theologian Dr. Jack Kilcrease, who blogs at Theologia Crucis.

“And this surprises you, how?” you ask. “They’re Lutherans. You’re Lutheran. Sounds more like incest than Romeo and Juliet.”

Ah, but that’s because you don’t know the history of Lutheranism in America. Between Missouri Lutherans and Free Lutherans like me, a great gulf has historically been fixed. Continue reading I am the reconciler →