Lumps in Faeryland

Fairy tales are more than true – not because they tell us dragons exist,

but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.”

G. K. Chesterton

Nicole and I have been attending Geneva Library’s adult book club once a month, and one of the books to be discussed this month is Michael Gruber’s The Witch’s Boy. It is a marvelous book, and this is the second reading of it for both Nicole and me.

In one scene of that book, the protagonist, a young man named Lump, and his mother travel through Faeryland and are confronted with a dance by the Faery Folk. Lump’s mother, experienced in these matters, warns her son to take precautions against hearing the music or seeing the dance. She says, “Now, as for you, you must not on any account see it. Go now into the wagon, and on my shelf of simples you will find a red clay jar, and in it you will find soft beeswax. Use bits of it to stop up your ears.”

Lump answers, “But why? Why must I not see the dance nor hear the music of the fay?”

And she explains, “Oh, child,… should you but once see this dance, no sight of common earth would ever again give you pleasure – not the face of a beloved, nor that of your own dear child, but you would lust after a lost perfection. And as for the music: once in a rare while a person of the common earth hears, as from a great distance, the horns of Faery, and then they run mad or become great poets or both together. To hear them at this slight remove and so clear would be the end of you, from the pure deadly joy of it.”

Now, it’s the nature of such things, in our fallen world and in this version of Faeryland, that protagonists are susceptible to temptation. Lump scurries into the wagon and stops his ears and sits on his cot. But as he sits there, the thought of being denied even one look at the dance grows intolerable to him. And he creeps to the front of the wagon and pulls aside the leather curtain that separates the cabin from the driving seat. And…

 “He saw the fay dancing. Their wings were spread wide as they trod a measure in the air. As he was not a great musician, he was never able to describe what he saw, for no human words can comprehend that concentrated essence of loveliness – beauty as terrible as a bomb. All we know of beauty on earth is but its muddy shadow; music alone can remind us of its glory. And his heart twisted in his bosom, and he fell back in a faint, as if shot by a poisoned arrow.”

The tale continues, and Lump and his mother return to the ‘real’ world. But the vision of the Faeries’ dance and music lingers in Lump. He is unable to shake away the memories, and all earthly joys are now tainted by the inevitable comparisons he makes to the real joys of Faeryland. Dissatisfaction is now Lump’s constant companion.

Gruber’s book is not meant to be an allegory of the Christian life, but I see reflected in this story vivid realities we Christians experience.

The temptation Lump encounters is reminiscent of the temptation to which Adam and Eve succumbed and to which you and I have fallen prey. A clear command is issued, a command given for the well-being of the one receiving it, but the urge to transgress its boundaries and sample some forbidden ‘delights’ proves overwhelming, and the command is disobeyed. Lump gave in, and, similarly, Adam and Eve did, and we did also. This transgression occasions a penalty, the natural outgrowth of the violation. This is what the Bible refers to as “the wages.” For Adam, Eve, you and me, this meant death, both spiritual and physical.

In the story, Lump is forced out of Faeryland and must return to a world that proves, at best, a sad shadow of what he had glimpsed. In a similar way, Adam and Eve were forced from Eden into a fallen world, a world characterized by struggles and sufferings, a mere shadow of the ‘good’ world which God had created.

But there is more. The inner ache Lump experiences is similar to the ache we humans experience from birth. Our consciences bear witness from infancy that there is more to this life than we see. We sense that we were created for greater, nobler things, and we experience an inner frustration as we realize that, even at its best, this life’s joys are incomplete and temporal.

Now, I’m not trying to posit a one-to-one correlation, so, I’ll go ahead and mix the metaphor.

There is another way to think of this picture. When we first came to Christ, we received a glimpse of glory. We were given a foretaste of ‘glory divine.’ It’s as if we had a chance, for just a moment, to watch the heavenly dance. And then, immediately, we were forced to reckon with the reality that we were not in heaven yet, dancing in the dance, but were still consigned physically to a fallen world. We had glimpsed the heavenly and returned to the earthly. We became aware that our citizenship had transferred from the latter to the former, but we were compelled to wait for the moment of physical relocation.

And how hard that was! When we came to Christ, we realized the reality of Paul’s words, that to depart and be with Christ is far better than to live on in the flesh. But, of course, we recognized also that God had a purpose for us here, and so we determined to please Him by pressing on in the flesh. And, accordingly, we look forward eagerly to the day when He will call us home. And, in this, we have become like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, dwelling as in a foreign country, waiting for the city which has foundations, “whose builder and maker is God.” As we look forward to our inheritance in heaven, we affirm that we are strangers and pilgrims on the earth, a people who desire a better, heavenly country.

These thoughts have been helpful to me as I have tried to understand the constant ache of my heart, that ‘almost, but not yet’ desire that lurks deep within me. That ache is my spirit’s craving to realize full reconciliation with its Creator, spiritually and physically. It is my spirit’s desire to join fully in the heavenly dance. It is my spirit’s yearning to be transformed from a lump of clay into a vessel for honor.

What literary tales speak to your spiritual realities?

Mermaids and the Origins of Man

IXTHUS

One of the earliest creedal statement of the church is summarized by the Greek word for ‘fish’, IXTHUS. Each letter in the Greek word has significance: “I” – “Jesus”; “X” – “Christ”; “TH” – “of God”; “U” – “Son”; “S” – “Savior”. Put into proper English, the acronym means this: Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.

This word IXTHUS came to mind the other night when I awoke at 3 AM. And, no, it had nothing to do with my bladder. Since I was up, I decided to check out the headlines. I scanned a few stories and clicked on some related links, and before I knew what had happened, I had left reality. I had entered the world of mermaids, a world populated by people obsessed with becoming mermaids and mermen. What? Yeah, really. And, yes, it’s weird. But let me give you a fictionalized example of a typical thread from this internet world…

Mermaid (probably a pseudonym for some creepy old guy): Wow, I finally found the way to be a REAL mermaid, with a fin and everything! I had almost given up, but then, I found these instructions online, and since then I’ve been spending my nights deep in the sea with the rest of the merpeople.

DesperateToChange: I KNEW there was a way to become a real mermaid! I’ve been trying for two years, ever since I was twelve, but nothing has worked yet. Most of the instructions on the internet seem fake. Please tell me what you did, so I can become a real mermaid. I know that’s what I really am. I’m such a misfit in the human world.

TriedToo: Me too! I SO want to be a mermaid and be free. I’m so tired of school and everything, and I look at the ocean, and I just KNOW that’s where I’m supposed to be. I followed the instructions on another website, and I stayed in the shower all day, just like it said I was supposed to, but nothing happened. I’m so depressed. I don’t know what I will do if I can’t find the real way to change.

Mermaid: Oh, sorry, I should have put up the instructions. Here they are – pretty simple really: find some sea salts and mix them with fresh sand from the beach, add some dirt (this has to be taken from the sea bottom), and make mud. Then, smear the mud all over you legs, and lie by the beach on a moonlit night. Make sure the moonlight hits your legs. Then go swimming to get rid of the mud. The change won’t happen right then, but over the next month you will have more and more cravings to be in the water, and then, suddenly, your legs will become a fin, and you’ll be a mermaid.

DesperateToChange: THANK YOU. Thank you. I’ll try it as soon as possible.

          

 TriedToo: I tried it, and I think it worked! I’ve really been craving the water more and more. I haven’t seen any hint of my fin yet, but I know it’s coming. Thanks!

[a few months later]

DesperateToChange: It didn’t work. Why didn’t it work for me? Please, please, get back to me. I can’t take it anymore. I have to get away from here, and this is my last hope. Please respond.

I read several of these sorts of threads, and, then, with my mind blown, I returned to bed, wondering what in the world I had just read.

So what’s going on? Let’s see if we can make any sense of this stuff and determine whether it has any significance for our own lives:

Stories involving mermaids date back at least to 1,000 B.C. The first known story involves an Assyrian goddess Atargatis. According to the story, she loved a mortal shepherd but accidentally killed him. Overwhelmed by regret, she jumped into a lake and took the form of a fish. But, being a goddess and all, the water could not hide her great beauty, and she transformed into a mermaid, human from the waist up and a fish from the waist down.

From that point on, stories of mermaids, and their counterparts (i.e. the Greek sirens and naiads) appeared periodically in literature and myth. Sirens appear in the Greek epic The Odyssey. Several stories about ‘sea people’ appear in The One Thousand and One Nights, and a mermaid-ish character appears in European folklore during the middle ages. And, of course, there is The Little Mermaid, the story Hans Christian Andersen published in 1837. This latter work became the basis for Disney’s The Little Mermaid.

The mermaids of literature have not always been the fun, friendly, singing creatures of Disney’s movie. They were often depicted as deceptive, dangerous, and deadly. Neither were they always considered beautiful. Sailors, mistaking manatee-like creatures for mermaids, described them as blobbish and ugly.

Okay, so that’s a brief history of mermaids. But what’s the significance, and why are some young girls desperate to become mermaids?

It seems to me that the myths around mermaids emerge partly from humanity’s desire to understand itself, its origin and purpose. These myths, at some level, address our collective awareness that something is missing or lacking in our lives. They tap our yearning for a different world, and they may even attempt a crude explanation of our current position in this world.

Let’s start with the latter thought. Around 600 B.C., a philosopher named Anaximander proposed that mankind had sprung from an aquatic species of animal. He thought that humans, with their extended infancy, could not have survived otherwise. Ponder this for a moment. What he was suggesting was that humanity had evolved from the fish. In other words, he was proposing both a mer-person ancestry for humanity and an evolutionary cosmology. So, you see? The evolutionary theory isn’t all that new, is it?

Anaximander’s theory would account for both humanity’s oral traditions concerning mer-people and for the desire of some people to become mer-people. They are merely yearning to return to their genealogical roots. And, I would think a similar thing could be said concerning the theory of evolution. Though, if so, you would have to wonder why some folks don’t yearn to return to their roots as single-cell organisms. (Please, no couch potato jokes.)

But, of course, this is only one possible cosmology, and a far-fetched one too, if you ask me.

A better cosmology is stated in the book of Genesis. There, we learn that man was initially created in a sinless state, fellowshipping with Almighty God. We learn that sin entered the race through that man, the earth was cursed, and a separation between God and humanity erupted. In addition, we discover that each of us was born in that separated condition, tormented by our fallen nature and yearning for a better world. And, of course, the Bible tells that, ultimately, we can be freed from our sinful nature and know that better world through Jesus Christ.

This biblical cosmology offers a clearer perspective on what is going on in the weird Internet world of “I-want-to-be-a-mermaid.”

The young people posting comments uniformly express an awareness of worldly dysfunction. They lament the injustices they see in their families, schools and communities. “I hate it here. My parents are so abusive. I just want to escape.” Or, “I just want to be free. Free from people looking at me and thinking I’m ugly.” They also express an awareness of inner dysfunction. They recognize that they are not all they were meant to be. The thought, “I just want to be more than I am,” emerges in post after post.

But these thoughts and feelings are not unique to those wanting to join the mer-people. They are shared by all people everywhere. We all want to be freed from the injustices of our societies. We all want freedom from dysfunctional relationships and unfair work loads. More than that, we all want freedom from ourselves, from our weaknesses and failings. We want to be freed to become the amazing people we know we were meant to be.

As is often the case, the yearning is not the problem; it is the proposed solution that is the problem. The desire to be a mer-person is simply impractical. Even if it were possible to become one, there is no reason to suppose that one would be freed from the fallen nature of the world. In ‘Neptune’s Kingdom,’ one would still find court intrigues and strife. I would suspect that mermaid teenagers would be just as likely to be catty as human teenaged girls.

The solution for these yearnings is found, ultimately, only in Jesus Christ. In Jesus, we can become so much more than mer-people. We can be freed to become fully human. We can become humans who walk in true fellowship with God, humans who know they will one day receive glorified bodies that look a whole lot better than a fish-man hybrid.

Bottom line? Through reading those threads I realized again that people are desperate to find the real, lasting change that brings freedom. And I realized there are an awful lot of people who do not yet know that the only way to find true freedom is in a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. This makes me want to redouble my efforts to proclaim the Gospel, to tell them IXTHUS.

How about you?

Egg-zactly

Okay, so what’s up with Easter Eggs? Are they some weird hangover from paganism? Can Christians enjoy hiding and finding them? Or should they eschew them (and the chocolate inside them)?

I’ll admit it. This is one of those gray areas for believers. Still, it’s worth considering, and I’d like to share a few thoughts on the topic…

Let’s see, I don’t think it takes a genius to recognize why an egg became a universal symbol of birth and resurrection. Hold an egg in your hand, and you can see in it the potential for life. It serves as a reminder that life begets life and on and on and on. Okay.

Accordingly, it doesn’t surprise me that, from earliest times, and in most cultures, the egg signified birth and resurrection. The Egyptians buried eggs in their tombs. The Greeks placed eggs atop graves. The Romans coined a proverb: Omne vivum ex ovo, “All life comes from an egg.”

Yes, these were pagan cultures, but they were each observing a God-given reality, that life, death, and the hope of life after death were reflected in the lowliest egg. Even in ignorance of the true God, they had observed a spiritual picture that would serve later as a redemptive analogy.

Legend has it – and this legend is surely apocryphal – that Simon of Cyrene, the guy who helped carry Christ’s cross to Calvary, was by trade an egg merchant. According to the legend, he returned from the crucifixion to his produce farm and discovered that all his hen’s eggs had miraculously turned a rainbow of colors. (Yes, it’s a weird story. Sort of the equivalent of a ‘viral fake-video’ in the second century.) Anyhow, when the Church started to celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ annually, a decision formalized at the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, it did not have to search far for a popular and easily recognizable symbol.

Back in those times, wealthy people would cover a gift egg with gilt or gold leaf, while peasants often dyed their eggs. This tinting was achieved by boiling the eggs with certain flowers, leaves, logwood chips, or the cochineal insect (a crimson-colored beetle-ish bug). Spinach leaves or anemone petals were considered best for green; the bristly gorse blossom for yellow; logwood for rich purple; and the body fluid of the cochineal produced scarlet. (Yuck. I wonder if they ate them later?)

In parts of Germany during the 1880s, Easter eggs substituted for birth certificates. An egg was dyed a solid color, then a design, which included the recipient’s name and birth date, was etched into the shell with a needle or sharp tool. Such Easter eggs were honored in law courts as evidence of identity and age.

The most valuable Easter eggs ever crafted were also made in the 1880s. Made by the great goldsmith Peter Carl Faberge, they were commissioned by Czar Alexander III of Russia as gifts for his wife, Czarina Maria Feodorovna. The first Faberge egg, presented in 1886, measured two and a half inches long and had a deceptively simple exterior. Inside the white enamel shell, though was a golden yok, which when opened revealed a gold hen with ruby eyes. The hen itself could be opened, by lifting the beak, to expose a tiny diamond replica of the imperial crown. A still smaller ruby pendant hung from the crown. The Faberge treasures today are collectively valued at over four million dollars. Forty-three of the fifty-three eggs known to have been made by Faberge are now in museums and private collections. (And, no, contrary to popular belief, the other ten are not in the cupboard at the pastor’s house.)

Okay, that’s about all I can find on Easter eggs and their significance, but I suspect I’ll find out, after I send this, that eggs were decorated and used in all sorts of pagan festivals before the birth of Christ. But, frankly, that wouldn’t surprise me. The reality of the egg and its role in the life cycle, its significance, has been recognized by humanity since the Creation. That humanity would fail to see the ultimate picture behind the egg does not surprise me either. This is simply a manifestation of humanity’s blindness occasioned by sin and separation from Almighty God.

But it seems utterly appropriate to me that the Church, those who have had their spiritual eyes opened through life in Christ, should reclaim that picture and utilize it to proclaim it as the redemptive analogy it is. I believe this is the Church’s responsibility, to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ, using the Scriptures and the Creation to declare God’s existence, His righteousness, the reality of death and separation occasioned by man’s sin, and the hope of eternal life available through Jesus Christ. And, to the extent that our use of an egg facilitates that proclamation, terrific!

In blunt and practical terms, let me say it this way: Easter eggs are fun. They are fun to dye, they are fun to hide, and they are fun to find. The plastic ones are fun to fill with candies, and they are even more fun to open. And egg hunts? Kids enjoy the game of ‘hide-n-go-seek’, and the parents and grandparents enjoy watching it. It’s fun to watch the kids sort through the candy and choose which ones they’ll scarf down and which they’ll save.

More importantly, Easter eggs, egg hunts, and all the traditions that go along with them serve as wonderful conversation starters for the reality they are meant to commemorate -- the fact that Jesus is alive! We should utilize all these opportunities to talk with our children and friends about Jesus Christ, about His death, burial and Resurrection. We should talk with them creatively about all the parallels we see. Here’s my feeble attempt…

“I thought I was a ‘good egg,’

But really was a bad one,

Dead on the inside,

Apart from the Son.

I hid from God, and I was lost,

But then He sought me and paid the cost,

With costly care, He found me and loved me,

And washed me in His crimson sea.

He made me alive,

and He’s transforming my soul;

He’s decorating me brilliantly

and making me whole.”

Easter eggs. What do you think? How will you use this Easter Sunday and its traditions to talk to others about Jesus?

The Ultimate in 3D Imaging

 “For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed

to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.

Romans 8:29

Remember that three-headed mythical creature you drew back in the fifth grade? The one with the cat-like fangs, dragon wings, and hooves of a horse? The one you called the “LiDraHodrox”? Well, now, thanks to an incredible new invention, you can transform that drawing into an actual 3-D figurine. It’s as easy as clicking the “print” button on your computer. Easy, that is, if you own a “Form 1 High-Res 3D Printer.”

The “Form 1 High-Res 3D Printer” utilizes “high-end stereolithography technology” to do what it does. And what it does is really, stinking cool.

The Form 1 is about the size of a small college-refrigerator, and it is lightweight enough to sit on your desk. It can construct details as small as 300 microns and print objects up to 4.9” x 4.9” x 6.5 in. It utilizes a photopolymer-based process in which a high precision system directs a laser across a tray of liquid resin and causes a thin layer to solidify. A build platform then rises in preparation for the next layer. After thousands of repetitions, the desired object is complete.

This method of fabrication is not new. The idea has been around for a while. The first company seeking to commercialize the procedure was founded in 1986, by the same guy who coined the term “sterolithography.” Several versions of these 3-D printers exist and have existed for some time.

But what is new is the accessibility and affordability of this technology. The “Form 1 High-Res 3D Printer” costs a mere $3,299.00. And it comes with an entire liter of resin! (Additional liters cost $149 each.)

I predict that this printer will be just the first of many smaller, cheaper 3D printers. I envision a day, not long from now, when folks will have one sitting next to their inkjet and laser printers. And, in that day, we will no longer have to run to the hardware store to replace that small plastic gear with the broken teeth. We’ll download the schematic, click a button, and watch as our 3D printer creates the replacement. And chess sets with missing pawns? A thing of the past!

Hearing about that printer got me thinking about God’s work of conforming us believers to the image of His Son. The Scriptures speak a great deal about God’s work in us. They teach that He is molding and shaping us into Jesus’ image, causing us to become more and more a testimony to His grace and power.

In Ephesians 2:10, we are called God’s workmanship. The word translated there is poiema, and it refers to that which is created or made. It underscores the creative force of the Almighty creator, as we see expressed in our transliteration of the word – “poem.” We believers are His poem, created by Him for the purpose of “good works.” (That sounds a little like the gear-thing I mentioned above. The gear is designed to accomplish a desired task, and then it is created, becoming an expression of the designer’s creative forethought.)

Fortunately for us, however, we are not just gears or two-bit replacement parts. We are of an infinitely greater value. The design God uses for us is the image of His own Son, Jesus Christ!

Now, just for fun, let’s see if we can put this in terms of our 3D printer analogy. (And, yes, I know it will break down eventually. It has to. The finite can never adequately encapsulate the infinite.) But, regardless…

We accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior, and we are declared positionally righteous. We are granted a legal righteousness before God, and we are credited with the righteousness of Christ Himself. This righteousness, though an actual and legal reality, is not yet manifested in our thoughts and actions. – At this point of the process, the new believer is a little like the liquid resin in the tray. It has just been placed there and a high-intensity laser beam has begun to focus upon it. Assuming the electrical supply remains constant and there are no software glitches, the final product is assured. Even though it is not yet present. – In the spiritual realm, of course, there are no glitches. God will accomplish what He begins. When God begins this work of conformity, it will be accomplished.

After we have believed on Jesus, we begin to grow spiritually. The Holy Spirit applies the Word of God to our hearts and minds, causing us to eschew sin and choose righteousness. More and more, day by day, we are conformed to the image of Christ. This process is called sanctification, and it is the righteousness of God made practical in our lives. – In terms of our 3D printer, this is the point at which the laser beam begins shooting back and forth, causing layer upon layer of resin to form and harden. As the layers increase, the image becomes visible. – In the spiritual realm, our walk with the Lord causes an ever-increasing conformity to the image of Jesus Christ. And moment by moment, we begin to look more like Him.

 Eventually, the process is completed. For the believer, this occurs at glorification, the moment when he is completely conformed to the image of Christ Jesus. This, I believe, occurs in a spiritual sense, at the moment of death, when we enter into the presence of the Lord, and, physically, at the Rapture of the Church, when we, the believers from the Church Age, will receive our glorified bodies. – This is that moment when the laser has completed its work and is deactivated. The process is complete, and the image is fully rendered.

There are obvious weaknesses with the analogy. The most obvious is that we are not simply liquid resin. We are spiritual beings still struggling with the sin principle, and God, in His sovereignty, has made it possible for us to quench the Spirit and interfere with His work of sanctification. It’s as if the resin were alive and could resist the urgings of the laser. And, if that were to happen, of course, the outcome would be poor. In the case of our 3D printer, it would be irremediable.

But, praise God, in our case, it is not. The promise of God is that He will start, continue, and complete this work of conformity. He will transform us into the image of His Son. Yes, we may mess things up. We may stick our fingers where they don’t belong and muddle the whole thing. But His promise is that He will take what we have, rework it and ultimately transform it into the perfect image of Jesus Christ.

And that’s really, stinking cool.

Moreover whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called,

these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified.

Romans 8:30

Talking Translations

“I need a toilet.”

This was the sentence my year of Mongolian language studies had prepared me to utter! I garnered my intellectual resources, sorted through my collection of Mongolian words, chose the exact ones I needed, and then strung them together into this well-structured sentence: “I… toilet… with need.” (That’s the most literal translation I can give. It sounds better in Mongolian.) As I ran down the stairs headed for the street, I practiced articulating the words: “Bi jorlang xherigtei.”

The bowl on our teammate’s toilet had cracked, and I was headed to the market to buy a replacement. I reached the street and hailed a taxi. It pulled over, and I jumped into the back seat and said the line, “Bi jorlang xherigtei!” The driver studied me for a moment and then, with a nod of understanding, tapped the meter and pulled into traffic.

A few moments later, we parked outside a large office building. The driver jumped out, opened my door and pulled me out. He took my by the elbow and rushed me into the building. We raced down a hallway, and onto an elevator. He pushed a button, and we waited as the lift rose. (Nope, no music.) And then the doors opened and he rushed me down another hallway.

At the end of this hallway, he stopped and flung open a door, revealing a… wait for it… a bathroom! He gave me a big smile, a thumbs-up, and told me to take my time.

Hmmm. Translation issues. Lots of fun.

Instead of saying “I need a toilet,” I should have said “I need to buy a toilet.” This small addition would have helped the driver understand my needs, and it would have prevented my face-saving faking of a gastrointestinal emergency.

This small incident shows the difficulty of accurately translating one’s thoughts.

I am often asked which translation of the Bible I think is best, and that is a difficult question to answer. It begs another question: “best for what?”

Translation from one language to another always occurs along a spectrum. That spectrum ranges from the paraphrase on one end to the semi-literal on the other end. And every translation is dependent upon the skills of the translator.

Let me see if I can use my experience above to illustrate. The literal translation of the sentence was “I toilet with need.” This translation is accurate to the Mongolian sentence, but it is not presented in good English. It is missing an indefinite article and it uses a prepositional phrase in place of a verb. If I fix those issues and restate the sentence in better English, it reads, “I need a toilet.” And that would be an accurate semi-literal translation of the phrase.

But, as you can see, I failed to communicate with my Mongolian sentence my actual need. I did not need to use a toilet. I needed to buy a toilet. Thus, if I had take the context into consideration, a more accurate translation of the meaning of my Mongolian sentence would be, “I need to buy a toilet.”

A better example of the differences here might be illustrated using the following imperatival sentence, “Keep your eyes peeled!”

Imagine, on the one hand, trying to translate that sentence with a literal translation: “Maintain your eyes in a sliced-open position!” Well, that might be appropriate if you are undergoing a cataract surgery, but otherwise, it might prompt some gory actions. But if, on the other hand, we translated the more likely intended meaning behind this idiomatic expression, we might express it this way: “Watch what is happening around you!” And that would make more sense, wouldn’t it?

Now, if you pause and ask yourself which translation in this case is better, you would probably say the latter, though it is hardly a literal translation. And if you came to that conclusion, you would be saying that, in some cases, a paraphrase is a more accurate translation of the meaning of a phrase than a literal translation. (Incidentally, this is an example of what is sometimes referred to as an ‘idiomatic’ translation.)

These illustrations highlight only one of the many challenges that face translators. There are many more. In the case of Bible translation, translators are also confronted with a multiplicity of texts. Imagine that my story about the toilet was copied hundreds of times by hand over hundreds of years. Then, imagine that all the remaining copies were collected and compared. Some read, “I toilet with need.” Others read, “I toilet with need to buy.” And still others read, “I toilet to buy.” How would you determine which sentence to translate? And, would you use a paraphrase, a dynamic equivalent or idiomatic translation, or a semi-literal approach? This sort of conundrum is routinely faced by Bible translators.

Okay, it is not my goal to undermine your confidence in your copy of God’s Word. The remarkable thing about the Bible is that, despite the existence of thousands of manuscripts and fragments written over hundreds and hundreds of years, the variations are minimal. We can have great confidence in the text we have. But, still, it is good to realize that variants exist.

Most importantly, it is important to recognize the complexity of translating and effectively communicating the truths contained in the Scriptures.

That said, what, then, are we to make of all the different translations? Which one is best?

My suggestion is that there is no one “best” translation. There are many excellent translations and paraphrases, and they all have their use.

Let’s get specific for a moment. I will list a few of the available versions and briefly discuss their merits.

Semi-Literal Translations. I would include here: The King James Version (KJV), the New King James Version (NKJV), the New American Standard Version (NASV), and the English Standard Version (ESV). Each of these attempts to mirror the text as closely as possible. One benefit of these translations is that they often leave syntactical decisions to the reader. Participles, for instance, are often (though not always) left as participles, permitting the reader to determine for himself or herself the relationship it has with the main verb. One possible drawback of these translations (when compared to others) is that their methodology may increase one’s need for well-developed critical thinking skills, for a knowledge of the texts’ far and near contexts, and for a higher-grade-level reading ability.

Dynamic Equivalence Translations. The main example of this sort of translation would be The New International Version (NIV). The translators of this version seek to translate by meaning as well as by terms. One benefit of this is that it may aid readers in comprehension. Many syntactical decisions are made by the translators, and the reading grade-level is lower. One possible drawback of these translations is that the translators’ theological biases are more likely to slip into the translation. (And we all have biases. No one is neutral). I have a friend who believed the NIV was unfairly biased in favor a those with evangelical theologies!

Paraphrases. The two examples of these which come to mind are The Message and The Living Bible (not to be confused with the New Living Bible). These paraphrases seek to ‘say again’ the meaning of the text in the culturally relevant forms of one’s environment. One benefit of this is that such paraphrases are generally very readable. They often read more like a modern storybook than as an ancient text. In addition, this may make complicated ideas more accessible. One possible drawback of paraphrases, however, is that they may wander too far from the intended meaning of the text and abandon the true meaning of the text.

Those are just a few examples. There are many other noteworthy translations out there, such as the Holman Bible and the New Living Translation.

So, having looked at the various types of translations, which ones should you use for your Bible reading? And is it better to use one than another?

My suggestion is that you use them all. Just use them wisely. The most important things to know about a translation is what sort of translation it is, whether those who translated it were qualified to produce a trustworthy translation, and whether the translators had adequate access to the manuscripts and fragments. All these can be learned by reading the introduction included in your Bible.

For myself, I utilize the semi-literal translations when seeking the most accurate wording of the text, comparing them to see where they agree and differ on wording. This helps me recognize where texts vary. (I also use the texts in the original languages, but you can have great confidence in your English resources. The translations you have are extremely accurate, and you can determine the textual nuances with great precision by comparing the various translations.)

I utilize the dynamic equivalence translations to gain an overall flow of the text. I find this particularly helpful in the Old Testament, particularly in the poetic books. The NIV seems to capture the spirit of Hebrew poetry exceptionally well. I also find the NIV helpful as a resource to see how the translators evaluated and understood syntactical relationships, such as how a particular participle should be understood.

I utilize paraphrases the same way I do commentaries. They help me to see how other Christians understand the text. Sometimes they help me to see things in ways I hadn’t seen them before.

Generally, I think of reading the Bible in differing translations as being a bit like fine-tuning a radio signal. In the old days, our car radio had a push button that brought to the general location of a radio station. Then, we would use the knob to fine-tune our reception of the signal. A little to the left, a little to the right, until we could hear clearly. As I read differing translations, the Holy Spirit enables the Word of God to become clearer and clearer to me, informing my understanding, convicting my heart and seeking wholehearted submission.

So, there it is. A few thoughts on Bible translations. Which translations do you use when you read the Bible?

The Walking Dead

“Therefore take up the whole armor of God,

that you may be able to withstand in the evil day,

and having done all, to stand.”

Ephesians 6:13

Ah, daylight savings time… “spring forward” and lose an hour of sleep… yuck. And it always comes just before Sunday church services. It makes me think of zombies. You know, those glazed looks on people’s faces during Sunday School.

“Zombies.” What comes to mind when you hear that word? Is it Bela Lugosi in the 1932 blockbuster White Zombie? Or do you think of films from the forties, such as I Walked With a Zombie, Revolt of the Zombies, or Zombies on Broadway? Or maybe you’re a little more modern and think of George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. That film from 1968 reintroduced zombies to the American public and spawned (ooh, bad choice of words) a slew of movies and shows, including Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, Zombie, and Return of the Living Dead. (Wow, why won’t these dead people stay dead?) It also birthed the tamer versions seen in Michael Jackson’s Thriller and Disney’s The Goofy Movie, though those pesky zombies didn’t stay tame for long, exhibiting their true flesh-eating habits in recent versions, such as AMC’s hit show “The Walking Dead.”

Today, thanks to technological advances, we are no longer forced to watch helplessly as zombies advance on the houses in movies sets. We can participate in their eradication, utilizing virtual tools (like shotguns and AK-47s) in video games. Indeed, adding a ‘zombie alternative’ has become standard for popular games like Call of Duty. And, then, of course, if that doesn’t give you your zombie-killing fix, you can always purchase the actual “Walking Dead” PS3 game and blow the heads off of the zombies. Fun. Fun.

But what’s the background of all this? What’s up with zombies?

The concept of zombiism (yep, it’s a real word) goes back to Haitian Voodoo culture. The word zombie (in Haitian, zombi) means “spirit of the dead.” According to voodoo folklore, ‘Bokors’ (Voodoo priests) had the ability to administer a black magic that resurrects the dead, bringing them back to a mindless, drone-like state. In reality, the ‘magic’ these priests administered was a powerful drug called coup padre. This powder contained tetrodoxin, the deadly substance of the poisonous fou-fou or “porcupine fish.” Given orally, it would slow the victim’s heart rate, suppress his breathing pattern and cause his body temperature to drop. All this conspired to make the victim look dead. The Bokor would declare him dead, and the family would bury him. Afterward, the Bokor would exhume the victim and revive him to a mindless, sedate state. – In other words, it was all hokum. No magic. No power over death. But you can imagine the hysteria this all caused.

The resurgence of zombiism in popular TV shows has prompted academics to debate the concept’s appeal. (Though I don’t think we need to be scholars to get it.) They have suggested that confronting a zombie causes one to be reminded of his own mortality. They suggest that a zombie (or an actor dressed like one) reminds us that we are made of dust and will return to dust, that our flesh will rot away. They suggest that it causes us to ask uncomfortable questions about what happens after we die. Will we indeed be mindless? Will we be used by evil forces?

We Christians are in a different position than the rest of society when we encounter zombiism. We have already accepted the temporality of our physical bodies. We accept that our bodies will decay after death; but we affirm that this decay is only temporary. A real, physical, and wonderful resurrection for us is coming, in which our spirits will join with our resurrected bodies. And we will never again be subject to decay. Our physical bodies will be a glorious an everlasting testimony to the eternal life we have in Christ Jesus.

As Christians, we can utilize the current zombie fad to engage with non-believers. It offers opportunities to discuss life after death, the resurrection, and the Bible. Let me suggest a few interesting conversation starters:

§         “Do you think resurrections of dead people really have happened?” – This question provides an open door for discussing the Biblical accounts of resurrection, including those regarding of Lazarus, the widow’s son, and, of course, Jesus Christ. This gives a chance, subsequently, to discuss how we evaluate historical events and whether they happened, and it provides the opportunity to explain the legal-historical method. This may lead to the sharing of Biblical and non-biblical witnesses concerning Jesus’ Resurrection.

§         “Do you think resurrections of dead people are happening today?” – This is an interesting question to raise, as it is likely the answer will be ‘no.’ This paves the way for a discussion of humanity’s fall into sin and the death it brought. Such a discussion would lead to a discussion of the meaning of the word ‘death” and to a distinction being made between spiritual death and physical death. The Christian can point out that, in the Fall, spiritual death occurred immediately and was passed to all, as explained by Paul in Romans and alluded to by him in Ephesians 2:1. And this will, or should, lead to a discussion of the need for new spiritual life, a life to be had only through a new birth, one experienced as one received Jesus Christ as Lord. And, ultimately, it leads to the bold and amazing declaration that resurrections of dead people are occurring every day (as they turn to Jesus for life)!

And, here’s one more…

§         “What do you think resurrected dead people would really be like?” – This question in itself should lead into all kinds of interesting discussions. It could lead to explorations of furthering questions, such as: What is the difference between the Resurrection of the Damned and the Resurrection of the Redeemed? Will the Damned be resurrected to a mindless, drone-like eternity? What will a glorified body be like?

Well, those are a just a few conversation starters. I’m sure you’ve thought of many others. And as we’ve thought together about this topic, I’ll bet you’ve already considered the idea that non-believers could, from a biblical standpoint, be called “the Walking Dead.” Well, if you have, I agree. And that leads me to point out two interesting similarities between non-believers and zombies (as they are currently presented in shows like The Walking Dead): both are controlled by impulses they don’t understand, and both are bent on the destruction of the living. Non-believers may have physical life, but they are nevertheless spiritually dead. In addition, though they may not know it, their god is Satan, and their purposes are aligned with his. Accordingly, they are bent on the destruction of the believers.

But there the similarities end. We are not like the survivors in AMC’s “Walking Dead” series. We do not need to respond to our walking dead with shotguns or the like. No, to the contrary, we can respond to them by fearlessly sharing the Word of God in love. We can overcome their evil with God’s good. We can strap on His armor and stride courageously into the skirmish. Yes, we can, in Christ, engage in effective and godly ways with the walking dead.

So let’s do it.

Wholly Holy

A few days ago Nicole caught Jonan and me looking at “geek porn.” Awkward.

It started innocently enough. Jonan recently purchased an inexpensive fountain pen. Since he knows I like fountain pens, he prepped me for the big moment of the pen’s arrival, saying, “Wait ‘till you see what I got on eBay!” And when it finally arrived, he pulled me into the kitchen and forced me to sit and watch as he opened the box. (It wouldn’t have been so bad if he had bought it as a gift for me, but he didn’t. He just wanted me to admire his new pen. Asking of lot of me, wasn’t he? Just saying.)

Anyhow, I dutifully praised his purchase and joined with him in a discussion about fountain pens, eventually comparing the qualities of the better Parkers, Pelicans, and Montblancs. These sorts of conversations are kind of pathetic, actually, as the participants rarely have the money to buy a great pen nor the expertise to tell the difference. But we discussed the merits of these pens and then resorted to the Internet for support of our positions.

This occasioned an excursion through the websites of the world’s finest pen manufacturers. We went to my office and did a search on the Internet. We pulled up various catalogues and started comparing close-ups pictures. It was just then that Nicole stepped into my office.

Jonan was sitting next to me behind my desk, and we were both leaning forward and gazing intently at the computer’s monitor. I had a zoomed-in image of an elegant $2,500 pen on the screen. I was tracing the shape of the pen with my finger, and I think the words I had just said were, “Check out these amazing curves and lines.”

Nicole asked, “What are you two looking at?” I froze as she stepped around to look at the screen. She glanced, paused, and shot us a look that both asked “Why?” and said, “I’m going to try to wash that image out of my mind and pretend it never happened.”

That’s when she said something like, “Sad. You and your ‘geek porn.’ Just sad.”

Awkward, like I said.

Being caught drooling over a fountain pen reminded me of holiness, and my need for more of it.

It reminded me of holiness because one of my favorite illustrations of the concept involves a fountain pen. I have a Diplomat fountain pen that Nicole gave me as a wedding gift. I use it for most of my journaling, and it is mine. All mine. I have made it clear that everyone else in the family is strictly forbidden to use it. (And, no, I don’t mandate that to Nicole, but she doesn’t try to use it, so the issue has not come up.)

One of the primary meanings of the term “holiness” is “set apart.” In keeping with that idea, it is not a stretch to suggest that my Diplomat pen is ‘holy’ to me and my use. It has been set apart for my use.

In a similar way, we can speak of Christians as being “holy” to God and “set apart” for His purposes. We are wholly His. He has purchased and redeemed us, and we are to realize that our members (our physical and spiritual abilities) are to be used solely for Him and His glory. Just as my pen is not to be used by anyone else or for purposes contrary to mine, we Christians are not to be used by anyone else or for purposes contrary to God.

But there are other associated meanings to the term “holiness,” particularly as it used in the Bible. The most important of these is the concept of absolute moral purity, a righteousness found only in God Himself. It is this quality that the Scriptures present as His essential nature, such that one might even assert that “holiness is not so much an attribute of God as it is the very foundation of His being.” Indeed, “The Lord is holy!” (Ps 99:9) And this is the foundational revelation God’s Word gives us concerning Himself.

Out of this foundation arises a natural result, the attending awe and fear experienced by one who fully encounters Holy God. To encounter Holy God is to experience His complete righteousness, to recognize that there is no other like Him, and to respond with reverential awe.

As I think about these meanings and seek to synthesize them, I come to the conclusion that Biblical ‘holiness’ is, in God, His utter moral purity, and, in us, a reflected righteousness characterized by God’s ownership and manifested by oneness with His purposes and practices.

So, anyhow… back to ‘geek porn.’ If a believer were really struggling with this or any other sort of porn, would these thoughts on holiness help?

Yes, I think so, as long as they are accompanied by the power of the Holy Spirit. These thoughts are mere echoes of what Paul writes in Romans six. There, he reminds believers that they have been united with Christ in both His death and resurrection. He points out that, in Christ, they are no longer under the dominion of death, to obey the commands of sin. No, he says. They are rather to consider themselves dead to sin and alive to God. And, accordingly, he urges them to present themselves as slaves of righteousness for holiness. In other words, if I’m struggling with coveting pens, I need to remember that I have been purchased and my eyes (and mind) are no longer mine. They are His, and I should not use them in ways that are dishonoring to Him.

There is so much more to be said about this, but space does not permit. We have not addressed the struggle we saints (literally “holy ones”) experience as we seek to be holy, nor the irony that we are already positionally what we seek to become. But we will leave it here today: that we ought to bow our knees before Him Who is Holy, recognizing His absolute moral purity and worshipping Him in reverential awe, and, subsequently, we ought to strive, by His grace, to manifest true holiness in our daily lives.

“As He Who called is holy,

you also be holy in all your conduct.”

1 Peter 1:15