Photo credit: Bowling United Industries



I went to a funeral today, for the mother of an old friend. It was a sad occasion, but not the worst kind of funeral, because it was the kind where the departed was old and full of days, and the event not unexpected. They’d asked me to read the Scripture in the service, something I was happy to do. I enjoy reading in public, and a favor is none the worse for being a pleasure.

As some of us sat in the Catholic sanctuary, waiting for the priest to show up to give us our stage directions, I looked at the little card rack on the back of the pew in front of me. You’ve probably seen such things – small wooden racks just large enough to hold Communion cards (at least that’s what they use them for in my church). It had a little round hole at either end, for those stubby pencils they use, the ones that are too short to be worth anybody walking off with. There were no pencils in the holes.

I peeked down into the card reservoir, which was also empty of cards. But I could discern, in the low light, a pencil lying down at the bottom.

“Hello,” I said to myself. “There’s a pencil, in a space too small for anyone to fish it out with their fingers. If I could get it out, I could put it into one of the holes, and do a favor for the next communicant.”

So I took my pen out of my pocket and fished down in the reservoir with it. After a while I tipped the pencil up and out.

And behold, there was another pencil in there below it.

I did my work once again, and got the second pencil out. And I saw that there was a third.

When all was done, I’d fished fully six little half-pencils out of that reservoir, not only providing pencils for future worshipers, but freeing up enough space in the reservoir for them to put cards in again next Sunday. Which I’m not sure they had room for, before my search and rescue operation.

If anyone wants to nominate me for a papal medal, I am not too stern a Protestant to accept it.

One of the things my friend Ian Barrs told me, in his capacity as an expatriate Englishman, during our time together a couple weekends ago was, “Don’t link to the Telegraph as an authority for information. It doesn’t have a very good reputation for factuality.”

Still, I think I’ll link to this interesting article, entitled “Bible outpaces Fifty Shades of Grey to become surprise hit in Norway.” (Tip: First Thoughts)

Yet the Bible, printed in a new Norwegian language version, has outpaced Fifty Shades of Grey to become Norway’s most popular book, catching the entire country by surprise.

The sudden burst of interest in God’s word has also spread to the stage, with a six-hour play called “Bibelen,” Norwegian for “the Bible,” drawing 16,000 people in a three-month run that recently ended at one of Oslo’s most prominent theaters.

There’s more information on the new Norwegian Bible translation:

Released in October 2011 by the Norwegian Bible Society, the new translation replaces a 1978 edition, with the goal of improving readability and accuracy.

For example, in the older version, Mary was called a “virgin.” In the new translation she is referred to instead as a “young” woman.

The US Conference of Catholic Bishops also made this change in its latest Bible translation from 2011, saying the change did not alter teaching about Mary, but was meant to address the possible different meanings of the Hebrew word “almah” in the text.

Now I’m going to call monkeyshines on that statement. No doubt it’s accurate in reporting the translators’ attitudes, but it’s also highly misleading. The meanings of the Hebrew word “almah” and the Greek word “parthenos” have been broadly debated. You can certainly argue about what Isaiah had in mind. But there’s no question (especially in context) what Matthew meant. It’s impossible to claim that this translation brings us back to Matthew’s intentions in writing. It’s an arbitrary editorial alteration of the Greek gospel text.

A few years back I translated a book for my friend Dr. Norvald Yri, a Norwegian missionary and Bible scholar. In that book he denounced several recent Norwegian Bible translations, and I’m pretty confident this one was one of those, or if not it’s been added to his list since. He himself has been a contributor to a more literal translation.

Still, I won’t condemn the phenomenon altogether. God can use very flawed vehicles.

A pastor friend of mine told a story about a Russian evangelical leader he once met. The man told how he came to be converted. He had a hunger for God, but could not get access to a Bible in the old Soviet Union. At length he went to the library and took The Encyclopedia of Atheism off the shelf. He went through its pages systematically, noting every spot where the Bible was quoted for purposes of ridicule. Out of these bits and pieces he was able to reconstruct enough of the gospel message to call on Jesus for salvation.

I’m in a kind of a mood today.



In the last couple days the Minnesota House and the Senate, both with Democrat majorities, have passed a bill legalizing homosexual marriage, and about an hour and a half ago the governor signed it. August 1 it becomes law.

The prospect of being hanged in a fortnight, as Dr. Johnson noted, concentrates the mind wonderfully. And the prospect of my own eventual imprisonment for a hate crime also has the effect of focusing my own thoughts. A Christian ought to be dead to the world, prepared at all times to suffer for his faith. And it looks very much (at least to me) that such a time is coming.

If I’m being paranoid, I’m not the only one. My friend Mitch Berg of Shot In the Dark blog, a libertarian and no Bible thumper, addresses (among other points) the abysmal record of “freedom to marry” advocates in terms of spreading the freedom around in this post.

Chanting “The First Amendment protects religious expression!” is about like saying “the Second Amendment protects your right to keep and bear arms!” or “the Fourth Amendment protects you from unreasonable searches and seizures!” or “The Tenth Amendment reserves unenumerated rights to the States and People!”. All are true – provided you take them seriously enough to beat back ill-advised legal attacks on them.

So I’m contemplating how to prepare for persecution to come – not the metaphorical kind where we complain about people talking to us mean, but the kind where we actually get sent to prison for expressing our beliefs. Do I compose my soul to accept arrest and incarceration? Do I squirrel away portable wealth for a quick run for the border (I understand diamonds aren’t as useful as they once were)?

Or should I take the Lord literally when He says “Cast no thought upon the morrow?”

Must ponder.

Neanderthal Man



Things Learned While Looking for Something Else Dept.:

If you belong to one of those increasingly rare churches that still sings hymns occasionally, you’ve probably sung the hymn, “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty.”

If you look at the bottom of the page, you’ll note that it was written by Joachim Neander (1650-1680), and translated by Catherine Winkworth.

Neander, though born in Germany, somehow managed to be neither Lutheran nor Catholic, but Reformed. He experienced a Christian conversion while studying theology, and became a Latin teacher in Dusseldorf. A lover of nature, he used to preach to large open air meetings in the Dussel river valley. He also wrote more than 60 hymns.

Long after his death, in the early 19th Century, the valley where he used to preach was renamed the Neander Valley in his honor. Or, in German, Neanderthal.

And it was in the Neander Valley, of course, that scientists found the bones of the prehistoric humanoid who became known as Neanderthal Man.

So even when they look back at their evolutionary family tree, biologists must pay tribute to a Christian hymn writer.

Mwa-ha-ha-ha! You cannot escape us! We’re everywhere!

Photo ©2006 Wikimedia Commons user Trounce. Licensed under CC-BY-SA

Today I got personally insulted (by insinuation) on Facebook. And it pleased me no end. Because the insult was based on the kind of prejudice that proves my point better than any argument I could make.

I got enticed, against my inclinations, into a discussion about homosexuality. A woman asked me how I knew that homosexuality was a sin. (An inexact description of my position, as I consider only homosexual actions sinful; the orientation itself is neither here nor there, except as an aspect of the Original Sin we all share).

I told her that I’d read the Bible, rather than just hearing it talked about.

She admitted she hadn’t read the Bible, but said that she was pretty sure I hadn’t either.

Well, I have. More than a dozen times. But I found her assumption fascinating and revelatory.

We Protestants are prone to seeing Biblical ignorance as an aspect of the Dark Ages. Illiterate Christians of those times viewed the book with superstitious awe, even fear. Only the priest, enjoying magical protections, was able to unpuzzle its mysterious symbols and mediate its meaning to the common folk.

We have entered a new Dark Age, in terms Biblical knowledge. Once again the average church member sees the Bible, not as a book to read, study, and discuss, but as a fearsome talisman. It’s so long, and so full of riddles. We dare not approach it. Open that cover, peruse those mysterious words, and a madness is likely to seize us. Soon we may be changed out of recognition. We may no longer be able to live our lives as we are accustomed to.

Which, of course, is true.