Cf We Quotes

...I want to be fearless and free. It's just life, Will. It'II be over before we know it.

Let us perform all our actions with the thought that God dwells in us. We shall thus be His temples, and He Himself will be our God, dwelling in us (cf. Eph. 15: 3).

Mary is a woman who loves. How could it be otherwise? As a believer who in faith thinks with God's thoughts and wills with God's will, she cannot fail to be a woman who loves. We sense this in her quiet gestures, as recounted by the infancy narratives in the Gospel. We see it in the delicacy with which she recognizes the need of the spouses at Cana and makes it known to Jesus. We see it in the humility with which she recedes into the background during Jesus' public life, knowing that the Son must establish a new family and that the Mother's hour will come only with the Cross, which will be Jesus' true hour (cf. Jn 2:4; 13:1). When the disciples flee, Mary will remain beneath the Cross (cf. Jn 19:25-27); later, at the hour of Pentecost, it will be they who gather around her as they wait for the Holy Spirit (cf. Acts 1:14).

If we never come to him, we will experience a judgment so fierce it will be like a double-edged sword coming out of his mouth at us (Rev. 1:16; 2:12; 19:15, 21). If we do come to him, as fierce as his lion-like judgment would have been against us, so deep will be his lamb-like tenderness for us (cf. Rev. 5:5–6; Isa. 40:10–11). We will be enveloped in one or the other. To no one will Jesus be neutral.

the earth herself, burdened and laid waste, is among the most abandoned and maltreated of our poor; she “groans in travail” (Rom 8:22). We have forgotten that we ourselves are dust of the earth (cf. Gen 2:7); our very bodies are made up of her elements, we breathe her air and we receive life and refreshment from her waters.

How many winds of doctrine we have known in recent decades, how many ideological currents, how many ways of thinking. The small boat of thought of many Christians has often been tossed about by these waves - thrown from one extreme to the other: from Marxism to liberalism, even to libertinism; from collectivism to radical individualism; from atheism to a vague religious mysticism; from agnosticism to syncretism, and so forth. Every day new sects are created and what Saint Paul says about human trickery comes true, with cunning which tries to draw those into error (cf Ephesians 4, 14). Having a clear Faith, based on the Creed of the Church, is often labeled today as a fundamentalism. Whereas, relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and 'swept along by every wind of teaching', looks like the only attitude acceptable to today's standards. We are moving towards a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as certain and which has as its highest goal one's own ego and one's own desires. However, we have a different goal: the Son of God, true man. He is the measure of true humanism. Being an 'Adult' means having a faith which does not follow the waves of today's fashions or the latest novelties. A faith which is deeply rooted in friendship with Christ is adult and mature. It is this friendship which opens us up to all that is good and gives us the knowledge to judge true from false, and deceit from truth.

Knowledge doesn’t assume morality or ethics (cf. genocide, segregation, religious conflicts, nuclear weapons, air and water pollution). Our unexamined biases interfere with how we apply what we learn. Knowing what to think is not the same as knowing how to think.

As it was in the age of the prophets, so it is in nearly every age: we all go mad, not only individually, but also nationally. We check manslaughter and isolated murders; we wage wars and slaughter whole peoples. Ferocity appears natural; generosity, superimposed. Since the natural often seems sacred, we seldom dare suppress or try to remake what has been called "all that fine belligerence within us." We measure manhood by the sword and are convinced that history is ultimately determined on the fields of battle. "There is no peace, says my God, for the wicked" (Isa. 57:21; cf. 48:22).

For what is more consonant with faith than to recognize that we are naked of all virtue, in order to be clothed by God? That we are empty of all good, to be filled by him? That we are slaves of sin, to be freed by him? Blind, to be illumined by him? Lame, to be made straight by him? Weak, to be sustained by him? To take away from us all occasion for glorying, that he alone may stand forth gloriously and we glory in him [cf. I Cor. 1:31; II Cor. 10:17]?

But none of us can claim an innate spiritual advantage. In reality, we are all equally disadvantaged. None of us naturally seeks after God, none is inherently righteous, none instinctively does good (cf. Romans 3:9-18). Therefore, as children of grace, our spiritual discipline is everything — everything! I repeat . . . discipline is everything!

Our eyes locked on each other’s as we struggle for air. For once, it has nothing to do with our CF. - Stella Grant

The sins that should have brought condemnation on us, God laid on Jesus. God’s love planned an amazing exchange: Jesus endured what we deserved so that we might enjoy what he deserved—eternal life. And the way we come to enjoy this life is by believing in Jesus. That’s what he said: 'Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life' (John 6:47; cf. Luke 8:12).

Our days are few (cf. Job 14:1), and consequently our labor cannot be overlong. By means of a little patience, we will get through it with honor and contentment, for we have no greater consolation at the end of the day than to have worked hard and shouldered its pains.

This name reminds us of Baptism, which should be practiced in daily tribulations and produce its effects so that we grow into a new and perfect man (cf. Eph. 4:13-15) and in this way the name of Christian be perfected until our name and Old Adam are abolished. Therefore

For the Word created heaven and earth and all things [Ps. 33:6]; the Word must do this thing, and not we poor sinners. In short, I will preach it, teach it, write it, but I will constrain no man by force, for faith must come freely without compulsion. Take myself as an example. I opposed indulgences and all the papists, but never with force. I simply taught, preached, and wrote God’s Word; otherwise I did nothing. And while I slept [cf. Mark 4:26–29], or drank Wittenberg beer with my friends Philipp and Amsdorf, the Word so greatly weakened the papacy that no prince or emperor ever inflicted such losses upon it. I did nothing; the Word did everything. The Second Sermon, March 10, 1522, Monday after Invocavit. [Luther, M. (1999, c1959). Vol. 51: Luther’s works, vol. 51: Sermons I. (J. J. Pelikan, H. C. Oswald & H. T. Lehmann, Ed.). Luther’s Works (51:III-78). Philadelphia: Fortress Press]

For Eckhart, the ‘detached person’ lives in the world but is not of it (cf. John 17:16). The ‘birth of God’ has taken place within them, and their ‘knowing essence’ is now engaged with God and not with the world. Since the metaphysical keynote of the spiritual and divine realities in which the human person now participates is oneness, the moral manifestation of this state is the practice of altruism, that is treating other people as if they were oneself (cf. Lev. 19:18). Thus we should be as concerned with the welfare of others as we are with our own, and all that we do will be conceived in the spirit of humility. Indeed, of all the virtues most associated with detachment humility is the most foundational. In one passage of great rhetorical brilliance Eckhart urges us to enter our own ‘ground of humility’, which is our lowest part, but it is also our highest part, since God is present there and raises us up, and it is no less our innermost part, for it is our own essence (Sermon W 46).

The point is this: guilt must not be allowed to fester in the silence of the soul, poisoning it from within. It needs to be confessed. Through confession, we bring it into the light, we place it within Christ’s purifying love (cf. Jn 3:20-21). In confession, the Lord washes our soiled feet over and over again and prepares us for table fellowship with him.

The past lies beneath our feet, Tellius. We stand like gods over them.’ ‘And one day someone will stand like gods over us.

So I Idren, I sistren / Which way will we choose / We better hurry, oh hurry, oh hurry, woe now / ’Cause we’ve got no time to lose.”429 This urgency intensifies toward realized eschatology in the song’s final verse: “So I Idren, I sistren / The preaching and talking is done / We’ve gotta live up, woe now, woe now / ’Cause the Father’s time has come”430 (cf. Mark 1:15).

(Peloponnesian Generals:) In that battle (cf. B2C83-84) we were, as you know, ill-prepared, and our whole expedition had a military and not a naval object. Fortune was in many ways unpropitious to us, and this being our first sea-fight we may possibly have suffered a little from inexperience. The defeat which ensued was not the result of cowardice; nor should the unconquerable quality which is inherent in our minds, and refuses to acknowledge the victory of mere force, be depressed by the accident of the event. For though fortune may sometimes bring disaster, yet the spirit of a brave man is always the same, and while he retains his courage he will never allow inexperience to be an excuse for misbehaviour. And whatever be your own inexperience, it is more than compensated by your superiority in valour. (Book 2 Chapter 87.2-3)

Here, the asking of the question who we are is in fact more dangerous than any other opposition found at the same level of certainty about man (the final form of Marxism, which has essentially nothing to do with either Judaism or even with Russia; if somewhere a non-developed spiritualism is still slumbering, it is in the Russian people; Bolshevism is originally Western; it is a European possibility: the emergence of the masses, industry, technology, the extinction of Christianity; but inasmuch as the dominance of reason as an equalizing of everyone is but the consequence of Christianity and as the latter is fundamentally of Jewish origin (cf. Nietzsche's thought on the slave revolt with respect to morality), Bolshevism is in fact Jewish; but then Christianity is also fundamentally Bolshevist! And what are the decisions that become necessary on that basis?). But the danger of the question "Who are we?" is at the same time--if danger can necessitate what is highest--the sole path by which to succeed in coming to ourselves and thus in initiating the original salvation, that is, the justification of the Occident on the basis of its history. The danger of this question is in itself so essential for us that it loses the appearance of opposition to the new German will.

Therefore when we are afflicted and disciplined, our heart must be aroused against the feeling of evil, and we must say (cf. Ps. 118:17): “I shall not die, but I shall live, however different it may appear. Although I may, indeed, be compelled to despair of myself, I shall nevertheless hope in Him who made all things out of nothing and can restore me intact after being reduced to nothing, to my very great benefit and that of others.

The reason that I have concentrated on non-computability, in my arguments, rather than on complexity, is simply that it is only with the former that I have been able to see how to make the necessary strong statements. It may well be that in the working lives of most mathematicians, non-computability issues play, if anything, only a very small part. But that is not the point at issue. I am trying to show that (mathematical) understanding is something that lies beyond computation, and the Godel (-Turing) argument is one of the few handles that we have on that issue. It is quite probable that our mathematical insights and understandings are often used to achieve things that could in principle also be achieved computationally-but where blind computation without much insight may turn out to be so inefficient that it is unworkable (cf. 3.26). However, these matters are much more difficult to address than the non-computability issue.

Not only the gods, but the goddesses, too, are libido-symbols, when regarded from the point of view of their dynamism. The libido expresses itself in images of sun, light, fire, sex, fertility, and growth. In this way the goddesses, as we have seen, come to possess phallic symbols, even though the latter are essentially masculine. One of the main reasons for this is that, just as the female lies hidden in the male (pl. XXIX), so the male lies hidden in the female.28 The feminine quality of the tree that represents the goddess (cf. pl. XXXI) is contaminated with phallic symbolism, as is evident from the genealogical tree that grows out of Adam’s body. In my Psychology and Alchemy I have reproduced, from a manuscript in Florence, a picture of Adam showing the membrum υirile as a tree.29 Thus the tree has a bisexual character, as is also suggested by the fact that in Latin the names of trees have masculine endings and the feminine gender.30

The head from Ostia (cf. frontispiece), supposed by Cumont to be that of Mithras Tauroctonos,69 certainly wears an expression which we know all too well from our patients as one of sentimental resignation. It is a fact worth noting that the spiritual transformation that took place in the first centuries of Christianity was accompanied by an extraordinary release of feeling, which expressed itself not only in the lofty form of charity and love of God, but in sentimentality and infantilism. The lamb allegories of early Christian art fall in this category.

Every tribulation that we accept patiently is good and profitable; but if we do not accept it patiently, it drives us away from God and serves no useful purpose. When this happens, there is only one cure-humility. The humble man censures and blames himself and no one else when he suffers affliction. Consequently, he patiently awaits for God to release him, and when this happens he rejoices and gratefully endures whatever comes; and through his experience of these things he gains spiritual knowledge. Recognizing his own ignorance and weakness, he seeks diligently for the Physician and, seeking, he finds Him, as Christ himself has said (cf. Matt. 7:8). Having found God, he longs for Him; and the more he longs, the more God longs for him. Then, purifying himself as much as he can, he struggles to make room in himself for the Beloved for whom he longs. And the Beloved for whom he longs, finding room for Himself in this man, takes up His abode there, as the Gerontikon says. Dwelling there. He protects His home, and fills it with light. And the person thus filled with light knows and, knowing, he is known, as St John of Damaskos says.

At this point, Chiara said 'Well, even if I ask Him for a cure - and I am asking Him - perhaps God knows what I truly want.' Chiara was like the man born blind, God's work was appearing in her. (cf John 9:1-38) 'With these words,' Enrico explained, 'Chiara was revealing to me that there was within her an intimacy of which she herself was not aware, that intimacy was the place where God dwells. The heart is a land we do not know well, neither its boundaries and frontiers, nor its miseries and grandeurs. In her profundity, nights and dawns were alternating, and we could discover some places only at the right moment.

Although every true believer knows it is a serious sin to be ashamed of his Savior and Lord, he also knows the difficulty of avoiding that sin. When we have opportunity to speak for Christ, we often do not. We know the gospel is unattractive, intimidating, and repulsive to the natural, unsaved person and to the ungodly spiritual system that now dominates the world. The gospel exposes man’s sin, wickedness, depravity, and lostness, and it declares pride to be despicable and works righteousness to be worthless in God’s sight. To the sinful heart of unbelievers, the gospel does not appear to be good news but bad (cf. my comments in chapter 1), and when they first hear it they often react with disdain against the one presenting it or throw out arguments and theories against it. For that reason, fear of men and of not being able to handle their arguments is doubtlessly the single greatest snare in witnessing. It is said that if a circle of white chalk is traced on the floor around a goose that it will not leave the circle for fear of crossing the white mark. In a similar way, the chalk marks of criticism, ridicule, tradition, and rejection prevent many believers from leaving the security of Christian fellowship to witness to the unsaved.

But men should be individually certain about this, that they are the people of God, or members of the church. Above all things this faith is necessary which firmly apprehends the following syllogism. The whole people of God is blessed, holy, pleasing, and acceptable to God in such a way that it cannot be torn from the hands of God. We are the people of God. Therefore God exercises care for us. The major premise is eminently true, because even the death and blood of the saints are precious in the sight of the Lord (cf. Ps. 116:15); all they do and suffer is pleasing to God. On the contrary, their errors and lapses have been covered and forgiven, as Ps. 32:1 testifies. But

This is essential: the Christian ethic is not born from a system of commandments but is a consequence of our friendship with Christ. This friendship influences life; if it is true it incarnates and fulfills itself in love for neighbor. For this reason, any ethical decay is not limited to the individual sphere but it also weakens personal and communal faith from which it derives and on which it has a crucial effect. Therefore let us allow ourselves to be touched by reconciliation, which God has given us in Christ, by God’s “foolish” love for us; nothing and no one can ever separate us from his love (cf. Rom. 8:39). We live in this certainty. It is this certainty that gives us the strength to live concretely the faith that works in love.

I am convinced that a person is not capable of renunciation but only of an exchange. Through fasting and prayer we discover ‘what is better’ so we can easily leave behind what is not good or is not as good. This is why we must never observe the life experience of saints and mystics from the standpoint of renunciation but of an exchange. It sounds unpleasant for us ‘normal’ Christians for someone to renounce their family, possessions and everything else, if we do not see that there has been an exchange for something better. It is particularly because of this that there are fewer and fewer Christians who are prepared to follow Christ radically. They do not see an exchange for what they are renouncing in the way Jesus Himself spoke of. (cf. Mk 10,28)

Western people today may have acquaintances, but few have relationships that even remotely approximate the honest, vulnerable, committed, covenantal relationships that weave the body of Christ together in the New Testament. Related to this, while the New Testament views the church as a community of people who unite around a mission, who spend significant amounts of time together in study, worship, and ministry, and who help one another become “fully mature in Christ” (Col. 1:28; cf. Eph. 4:13; James 1:4), most Westerners assume church is a place they go to once a week to sit alongside strangers, sing a few songs, and listen to a message before returning to their insulated lives. So too, whereas the New Testament envisions the bride of Christ as a community of people who convince the world that Jesus is for real by the way our unity reflects and participates in the loving unity of the Trinity (John 17:20–23), the Western church today has been reduced to little more than a brief gathering of consumers who are otherwise unconnected and who attend the weekend event with hopes of getting something that will benefit their lives. From a kingdom perspective, this individualistic and impoverished consumer-driven view of the church is nothing short of tragic, as is the perpetual immaturity of the believers who are trapped in it. If we are serious about our covenant with Christ, we have no choice but to get serious about cultivating covenant relationships with other disciples. There are no individual brides of Christ. Jesus is not a polygamist! There

In the ancient world, especially among nomadic people, life was lived on foot. They walked step by step along a “path” or “way” in search of food and water for their flocks and herds. As a result, walking became a metaphor for the journey of life. We are called “to live [our lives] before God in such a way that every single step is made with reference to [him] and every day experiences him close at hand.”4 To each of us, God says as He did to Abraham centuries ago, “Walk before me” (Gen. 17:1). Walking, however, is never simply walking per se. It is always walking along a particular way. We can walk along “the way of the LORD” (Gen. 18:19)—“the way of the righteous” (Ps. 1:6; cf. Prov. 8:20; 2 Peter 2:21), “the path of life” (Ps. 16:11; Prov. 10:17), “the good way” (Jer. 6:16), and “the way of the truth” (2 Peter

Do not be slow to answer the Lord’s call! From the passage of the Book of Exodus read to us in this Mass we can learn how the Lord acts in every vocation (cf. Ex 3:1–6, 9–12). First, he provokes a new awareness of his presence—the burning bush. When we begin to show an interest he calls us by name. When our answer becomes more specific and like Moses we say: “Here I am” (cf. v. 4), then he reveals more clearly both himself and his compassionate love for his people in need. Gradually he leads us to discover the practical way in which we should serve him: “I will send you.” And usually it is then that fears and doubts come to disturb us and make it more difficult to decide. It is then that we need to hear the Lord’s assurance: “I am with you” (Ex 3:12). Every vocation is a deep personal experience of the truth of these words: “I am with you.”[153]

The new vantage from which Christian theology as a discourse on Christian identity must operate in the modern world, then, is the Christological horizon of Mary-Israel. To be Christian is to enter into this horizon. But where is the horizon concretely displayed, where is it made visible if not in despised dark (and especially dark female) flesh? Is this not the flesh of homo sacer . . .the flesh that is impoverished, "despised and rejected of men," flesh that in shame we "hide our faces from" (cf. Isa. 53:3)? But if this is the case, it follows that the poverty of dark flesh is where one finds the wealthy God. . . In (Christ"s) taking on the form of the slave, the from of despised dark (female) flesh there is the diclsoure (sic) of divinity, a disclosure that undoes the social arrangement of the colonial-racial tyranny (tynannos,), as the seventh-century theologian Maximus the Confessor called it, that is the darker side of modernity

Teach all nations” (the last words of the glorified Jesus – Matthew xxviii. 19) “baptizing them into these relationships of the divine, into the connection of[24] the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” From the very context of the words, it is clear that by “baptizing into” we are not to understand a dipping in water, a so-called “Christening” in which there has to be an utterance of certain words like a magic formula. The word μρθητεύειυ [teach] is likewise deprived of the notion of teaching proper by the clause which follows it. God cannot be taught or learned, since he is life and can be apprehended only with life. “Fill them with the spiritual relation” (ὂυομα [name]; cf. Matthew x. 41: “whoso receiveth a prophet εις ὂυομα προϕήτου [in the name of a prophet], i.e., in so far as he is a prophet)[25] “which connects the One, the modification (separation), and the developed reunification of life and spirit (i.e., not in conceptual thinking alone).

Specifically, the awareness that I claim is demonstrably non-computational is our understanding of the properties of natural numbers 0,1,2,3,4,....(One might even say that our concept of a natural number is, in a sense, a form of non-geometric 'visualization'.) We shall see in 2.5, by a readily accessible form of Godel's theorem (cf. response to query Q16), that this understanding is something that cannot be simulated computationally. From time to time one hears that some computer system has been 'trained' so as to 'understand' the concept of natural numbers. However, this cannot be true, as we shall see. It is our awareness of what a 'number' can actually mean that enables us to latch on to the correct concept. When we have this correct concept, we can-at least in principle-provide the correct answers to families of questions about numbers that are put to us, when no finite set of rules can do this. With only rules and no direct awareness, a computer-controlled robot (like Deep Thought) would be necessarily limited in ways in which we are not limited ourselves-although if we give the robot clever enough rules for its behaviour it may perform prodigious feats, some of which lie far beyond unaided human capabilities in specific narrowly enough defined areas, and it might be able to fool us, for some while, into thinking that it also possesses awareness.

John Calvin writes, in one of the best paragraphs you’ll ever read, “We see that our whole salvation and all its parts are comprehended in Christ [Acts 4:12]. We should therefore take care not to derive the least portion of it from anywhere else. If we seek salvation we are taught by the very name of Jesus that it is ‘of him’ [1 Cor. 1:30]. If we seek any other gifts of the Spirit, they will be found in his anointing. If we seek strength, it lies in his dominion; if purity, in his conception; if gentleness, it appears in his birth. For by his birth he was made like us in all respects [Heb. 2:17] that he might learn to feel our pain [cf. Heb. 5:2]. If we seek redemption, it lies in his passion; if acquittal, in his condemnation; if remission of the curse, in his cross [Gal. 3:13]; if satisfaction, in his sacrifice; if purification, in his blood; if reconciliation, in his descent into hell; if mortification of the flesh, in his tomb; if newness of life, in his resurrection; if immortality, in the same; if inheritance of the Heavenly Kingdom, in his entrance into heaven; if protection, if security, if abundant supply of all blessings, in his Kingdom; if untroubled expectation of judgment, in the power given to him to judge. In short, since rich store of every kind of good abounds in him, let us drink our fill from this fountain and from no other” (Institutes 2.16.19). 2Institutes 3.2.24.

It is in the ‘other world’ of the Divine Liturgy that we are supremely enabled to see Christ. In the Holy Eucharist we are captivated by the vision of Him Who, being rich, for our sakes became poor that through His poverty we might become rich (cf. 2 Cor. 8:9), through Him Who laid down His life that we might live for ever (cf. John 10:15; 4:9). All those things that are uttered, prayed for, and performed in the Divine Liturgy dispose our souls to hatred of our sinfulness, our fallen state, and we feel the need to humble ourselves before the supreme Image of meekness and love Who is depicted for us in the Eucharist. The Divine Liturgy should unfailingly stir up in us the desire for repentance, the desire to amend our lives. We also encounter Christ when our hearts receive His word. When we read the Holy Scriptures, a little phrase often comes to life within us, generating in us the desire for repentance. We know from the lives of the saints that a single word can be enough to make one flee into the desert, strengthened for the work of repentance, and finally to become great in the sight of God. Such was the case of St. Anthony, who heard the Gospel read during the Divine Liturgy: ‘Go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me’ (Matt. 19:21), and promptly left for the desert so as to apply it, and then became like a god among the Desert Fathers.

What the postmodern world celebrates in its rejection of all absolutes and in its assumed right to define all reality privately is a sign of God's wrath (cf. Rom. 1:22). People may plead ignorance in this situation, but Paul says they are "without excuse" (Rom. 1:20). Later, he develops this in terms of internal consciousness. Even the Gentiles who are without the written moral law still show that what it requires "is written on their hearts" because their conscience is actively at work within them (Rom. 2:14- 15; cf. 1 Cor. 9:21). It is no small scandal what Paul has to say here. What is revealed to all people everywhere? It is not that God is loving, though he is. It is not that he is accepting, though sinners may find acceptance with him. It is not that we can find him on our own terms, though he should be sought (Acts 17:27). No, what is revealed is the fact that he is wrathful. It is true that this disclosure comes alongside the fact that the creation also bespeaks his glory and the greatness of his power. Yet the greatness of his power and his glory do not obscure the fact that God is alienated from human beings. Indeed, his glory is precisely the reason that he is alienated! There is, as a result, already a faint foretaste of final judgment as the consequences of sin visit their retribution upon the sinner. This is scandalous to a postmodern ear, but locked in that scandal is the key to meaning in the world, and in that meaning there is hope.

For this reason we should not try, through contempt or arrogant zeal, to attain this kind of contemplative knowledge prematurely; rather we should practice the commandments of Christ in due order and proceed undistracted through the various stages of contemplation previously discussed. Once we have purified the soul through patient endurance and with tears of fear and inward grief, and have reached the state of seeing the true nature of things, then - initiated spiritually by the angels - the intellect spontaneously attains this contemplative knowledge. But if a person is presumptuous and tries to reach the second stage before having reached the first, then not only will he fail to conform to God's purpose, but he will provoke many battles against himself, particularly through speculating about the nature of man, as we have learnt in the case of Adam. Those still subject to the passions gain nothing by attempting to act or think as if they were dispassionate: solid food is not good for babies, even though it is excellent for the mature (cf. Heb. 5:14). Rather they should exercise discrimination, yearning to act and think like the dispassionate, but holding back, as being unworthy. Yet when grace comes they should not reject it out of despair or laziness, neither should they presumptuously demand something prematurely, lest by seeking what has its proper time before that time has come, as St John Klimakos says, they fail to attain it in its proper time, and fall into delusion, perhaps beyond the help of man or the Scriptures.

It was not without reason that Jesus acquired the scandalous reputation of fellowshipping with the dregs of society (Matt. 9:10–11; 11:19; Mark 2:15–16; Luke 7:34; 15:1). He loved and fellowshipped with prostitutes, tax collectors, and drunkards. He loved, gave attention to, and helped the “unimportant” people as well as the “important” people. Indeed, he even loved those who crucified him to the point of praying for their forgiveness (Luke 23:34). This is how we are to love, for this is how we are loved! God’s love is impartial and universal, and so must ours be (Deut. 10:17–19; 2 Chron. 19:7; Mark 12:14; John 3:16; Acts 10:34; Rom. 2:10–11; Eph. 6:9; cf. 1 Tim. 2:4; 1 Peter 1:17; 2 Peter 3:9; 1 John 4:8). Anyone in need whom we happen to come upon is our “neighbor” whom we are called to love (Luke 10:27–37). Nothing is closer to the heart of God than this kind of love. Indeed, love is the very heart of God. Hence, loving as God loves—manifesting the truth that we are in union with Christ and in fellowship with the triune community—must be the singular concern of the Christian. Whomever we encounter, whatever situation he or she may be in, whatever his or her lifestyle might be, however much we may approve or disapprove of the person’s appearance, words, or deeds, our one and only concern must be to affirm his or her unsurpassable worth with our words and deeds. This is the concern that must be above all other concerns. It is the concern we must wear and live in. With every person we encounter, the only question that should be on our mind is, How can I, right here and right now, affirm the unsurpassable worth of this person for whom Christ died?

In the words of Barbara Rossing and John Yoder, borrowing an image from the book of Revelation, the contrast between the “power over” kingdom of the world and the “power under” kingdom of God is “Lion power” versus “Lamb power.” The kingdom of God advances by people lovingly placing themselves under others, in service to others, at cost to themselves. This “coming under” doesn’t mean that followers of Jesus conform to other people’s wishes, but it does mean that we always interact with others with their best interests in mind. Following the example of Christ, and in stark contrast to the modus operandi of the world, we are to do “nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than [our]selves.” We are to “look not to [our] own interests, but to the interests of others” (Phil. 2:3–4). We are to “not seek [our] own advantage, but that of the other” (1 Cor. 10:24, cf. 10:33). Following Jesus’ example, we are to find honor in washing people’s feet (John 13:14–15)—that is, in serving them in any way we can. So too, in following our Master we are to seek to do good and free all who are “oppressed by the devil” (Acts 10:38) while we voluntarily bear others’ burdens (Gal. 6:2). We are to “outdo one another in showing honor” (Rom. 12:10) and never be competitive with others (unless, of course, it’s for fun) (Gal. 5:26). We are to “put up with the failings of the weak, and not please ourselves,” always asking how we might “please our neighbor for the good purpose of building up the neighbor” (Rom. 15:1–2). We are to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, take in the homeless, befriend the friendless, and visit the condemned prisoner (James 2:15–17; 1 John 3:14–18; cf. Matt. 25:34–40).

Lord my God, ‘hear my prayer’ (Ps. 60: 2), may your mercy attend to my longing which burns not for my personal advantage but desires to be of use in love to the brethren. You see in my heart that this is the case. Let me offer you in sacrifice the service of my thinking and my tongue, and grant that which I am to offer, ‘for I am poor and needy’ (Ps. 65: 15; 85: 1). You are ‘rich to all who call upon you’ (Rom. 10: 12). You have no cares but take care of us. Circumcise my lips (cf. Exod. 6: 12), inwardly and outwardly, from all rashness and falsehood. May your scriptures be my pure delight, so that I am not deceived in them and do not lead others astray in interpreting them. ‘Lord, listen and have mercy’ (Ps. 26: 7; 85: 3), Lord my God, light of the blind and strength of the weak—and constantly also light of those who can see and strength of the mighty: Listen to my soul and hear it crying from the depth. For if your ears are not present also in the depth, where shall we go? To whom shall we cry? ‘The day is yours and the night is yours’ (Ps. 73: 16). At your nod the moments fly by. From them grant us space for our meditations on the secret recesses of your law, and do not close the gate to us as we knock. It is not for nothing that by your will so many pages of scripture are opaque and obscure. These forests are not without deer which recover their strength in them and restore themselves by walking and feeding, by resting and ruminating (Ps. 28: 9). 0 Lord, bring me to perfection (Ps. 16: 5) and reveal to me the meaning of these pages. See, your voice is my joy, your voice is better than a wealth of pleasures (Ps. 118: 22). Grant what I love; for I love it, and that love was your gift. Do not desert your gifts, and do not despise your plant as it thirsts. Let me confess to you what I find in your books. ‘Let me hear the voice of praise’ (Ps. 25: 7) and drink you, and let me consider ‘wonderful things out of your law’ (Ps. 118: 18)—from the beginning in which you made heaven and earth until the perpetual reign with you in your heavenly city (Rev. 5: 10; 21: 2).5

Christian faith only begins when we attend to God’s self-disclosure in Christ and in Scripture, where we meet him as the Creator who “commands all men everywhere to repent” and to “believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ . . . as he has commanded us” (Acts 17:30; 1 John 3:23; cf. John 6:28 ff.). Christian faith means hearing, noting, and doing what God says.

Men put Christ to death but God raised him from the grave and gave him all power and authority. Christ also was given a new name (cf. Philip. 2:9-11). The Father made his Son to be Lord. The real question is not what sinners will do with Christ, but the question is what will Jesus do with the sinner? He is not in our hands; we are in his hands. All men are in the hands of God’s appointed Redeemer to do with as he chooses.

Faith in our union with Christ provides the “double cure,” ridding us of sin’s “guilt and power.”23 Because God has regenerated us as new creatures, we can actually breathe the air that God provides to enable us to run the race of holiness in this life. Faith in our ability to do so is what allows us to run with confidence, perseverance, and power (cf. Heb. 12:1-2).

We are united to God not on the basis of our good deeds but on the basis of faith in what he has done for us in Christ. Even this faith is not a work of merit but is a gift of God’s grace, so that we can be assured that our relationship with God does not lie in our human performance or resolve (cf. Eph. 2:8-9).

The elements of the world pass away with a loud noise (II Pet. 3:10): and everything is clothed with light and existence as with a garment. Everything exists and acquires substance. Representing the cherubim in the liturgical singing of the thrice holy hymn, we are caught up into heaven-whether in the body or out of the body we do not know, God knows (cf. II Cor. 12:2) -and we sing the triumphal hymn with the blessed powers. When we are there, beyond space and time, we enter the realm of eschatology. We begin to receive the Lord "invisibly escorted by the hosts of angels." Thus anyone who participates in the Liturgy, who is taken up-"he was caught up into heaven"-acquires new senses. He sees history not from its deceptive side, which is created and passes away, but from the true, eternal and luminous side which is the age to come. Then the believer delights in this world too, because he experiences the relation between it and the other world, the eternal and indestructible: the whole of creation has a trinitarian structure and harmony. The thrice-holy hymn is sung by the "communion of saints," the Church, in the depths of its being. Solemnly sung as part of the Divine Liturgy, the thrice. holy hymn overcomes tumult, and makes everything join in the celebration and sing together in complete silence and stillness, the silence and stillness of the age to come. This is an indication that we have already received the pledge of the life to come and of the Kingdom.

Note, for example, how Barnabas is called an “apostle” in Acts (14:14). And in 2 Corinthians we learn of opponents of Paul whom he calls “super-apostles” (2 Cor 11:5; 12:11; cf. 11:13). Sometimes the same Greek word (apostolos) is used for delegates or representatives from various churches who were sent out with a special mission (2 Cor 8:23; Phil 2:25).

Jung’s point is that all we can ever ascertain is our own introspectively accessible phenomenal inner life, everything else being theory. However, as strictly correct as this may be, unless one is prepared to adopt solipsism—the notion that only one’s own personal experiences exist—and live accordingly, one cannot avoid metaphysical inferences of one sort or another. Even under idealism, one must metaphysically extrapolate the existence of experience beyond one’s own personal boundaries, so to account for the phenomenal inner lives of other living beings and the universe at large (cf. e.g. Kastrup 2019).

As with most things in our experience the nub of the issue involves the cross. We need to be clear not just about Christ’s death but about our own also. First, we have to accept the fact that only Jesus can take away the guilt of our sin. Then we have to be clear that Jesus died for us not merely to reconcile us to the Father but to transform us into his likeness. As soon as we understand this, we realize that the height of Christian experience is not the forgiveness of our sins—though that is the indispensable “door” that Jesus speaks about (cf. John 10, Rev. 3). To be properly human we need first to accept this unique salvation and to hold onto it throughout our lives, for it is the rock upon which all else rests. But what follows is equally important. Jesus says, “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). Paul says, Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us (Eph. 5:1–2). God welcomes us into his family not to provide us with rest and relaxation, but in order to change us into his likeness. Not that the rest isn’t real, as Isaiah makes clear: “in repentance and rest is your salvation” (Isa. 30:15, NIV). We never work for our salvation the way man-made religions require. But alongside the rest comes our repentance. We commit ourselves to undergo, at God’s hand, a process of gradual transformation, of continual repentance, of laying aside what is un-human so as to become properly human. On one hand this means becoming like Jesus in positive virtues, on the other it means being willing to die with him and to imitate his sufferings. He was kind, just, patient, generous, merciful, and all the rest. He was prepared to go to the cross. We have to become like that too, though always conscious of our shortcomings.

Sounding very much like the apostle Paul, Nephi exhorts both the Lamanites and Nephites to be “reconciled to God” (25:23; cf. Rom. 5:10; 2 Cor. 5:20), for “it is by grace that we are saved after all we can do” (v. 23; emphasis added; cf. Eph. 2:5, 8). By strip quoting Paul’s statement to the Ephesians about salvation by grace, Smith added words that reversed the ancient apostle’s meaning, showing that the author is neither Calvinist nor Antinomian but an Arminian.

Purgatory as Process Nothing unclean shall enter it. — Revelation 21:27 “In following the Gospel exhortation to be perfect like the heavenly Father (cf. Mt 5:48) during our earthly life, we are called to grow in love, to be sound and flawless before God the Father ‘at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints’ (1 Thess 3:12f.). Moreover we are invited to ‘cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit’ (2 Cor 7:1; cf. 1 Jn 3:3), because the encounter with God requires absolute purity. “Every trace of attachment to evil must be eliminated, every imperfection of the soul corrected. Purification must be complete, and indeed this is precisely what it means on the Church’s teaching on purgatory. The term does not indicate a place, but a condition of existence” — St. John Paul II (General Audience, August 4, 1999).

For some [Papists] (gymnē tē kephalē, without wish of concealment) altogether deny the authenticity (authentian) of Scripture in itself without the testimony of the church and think it worthy of no more belief (I shudder to relate) than the Koran, Titus Livy or the fables of Aesop. In a former age those who undertook to dispute with our men concerning the authority of Scripture belched forth these blasphemies. Such are the impious words of Hosius against Brentius ('Confutatio Prolegomenon Brentii,' in Opera [1583], 1:530). He asserts that it can be said in a pious sense that 'the Scriptures have only as much force as the fables of Aesop, if destitute of the authority of the church.' Eck says that 'the Scriptures are not authentic, except by authority of the church' (Enchirdion of Commonplaces 1 [trans. F.L. Battles, 1979], p. 13, 'On the Church and her Authority'). Baile says that 'without the authority of the church we should no more believe Matthew than Titus Livy' (cf. Andre Rivet, Sommaire de toutes les controverses touchant la religion [1615], p. 217). Andradius says, 'There is nothing of divinity in the books in which the sacred mysteries are written and that there cannot be found in them anything to bind us to religion and to believe what they contain; but that the power and dignity of the church are so great as that no one without the greatest impiety can resist it' (Defensio tridentinae fidei catholicae 3+ [1580]). Stapleton says, 'The church must be considered in such a light, as that we ought not to believe the testimony in any other way than the apostles believed the testimony of Christ, and that God is not to be believed except on account of the church' (adversus Whittak., lib. i, c. 7+ [1620]).

The sword of the Lord is a terrible thing, and not just for our enemies. The sword of the Lord cuts both ways, and right through the lines that we use to delineate insiders and outsiders (cf. 1 Pet 4:17).

By this we know that we have come to know Him, if we keep His commandments. The one who says, “I have come to know Him,” and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him; but whoever keeps His word, in him the love of God has truly been perfected. (1 John 2:3-5) Third, spiritual growth will result in an enlarged faith. “We ought always to give thanks to God for you, brethren, as is only fitting, because your faith is greatly enlarged” (2 Thess. 1:3; cf. 2 Cor. 10:15).

(1) David’s initial appeal is to God’s faithfulness and righteousness (143:1). This is entirely appropriate, in exactly the same way that the goodness of a potentate or the integrity of a judge is welcomed by those trying to redress a wrong. The difficulty, of course, is that as we sinners appeal to the righteousness of God for vindication, it is easy to remember that we ourselves are horribly soiled compared with the clean glory of the unshielded holiness of the Almighty. Hence verse 2: David acknowledges that “no one living is righteous before you.” This is a tension not finally resolved until the cross (Rom. 3:21-26; cf. 1 John 1:9).

Worship is the work of acknowledging the greatness of our covenant Lord.”1 It can certainly be done privately, but worshipping corporately is more in keeping with the greatness of God’s worth—it is more aptly proclaimed by a choir of people. When we proclaim God’s great worth together, songs of praise are most frequently associated with worship, but they certainly are not the totality. Some of the greatest times of worship are words of praise that are spoken rather than sung (cf. 2 Chron. 20:21; Isa. 6:3). The key is that worship proclaims the greatness of God as he has revealed himself in Jesus Christ.

We cannot escape the Lord’s words to us, and they will serve as the criteria upon which we will be judged: whether we have fed the hungry and given drink to the thirsty, welcomed the stranger and clothed the naked, or spent time with the sick and those in prison (cf. Mt 25:31–45). Moreover, we will be asked if we have helped others to escape the doubt that causes them to fall into despair and which is often a source of loneliness; if we have helped to overcome the ignorance in which millions of people live, especially children deprived of the necessary means to free them from the bonds of poverty; if we have been close to the lonely and afflicted; if we have forgiven those who have offended us and have rejected all forms of anger and hate that lead to violence; if we have had the kind of patience God shows, who is so patient with us; and if we have commended our brothers and sisters to the Lord in prayer. In each of these “little ones,” Christ himself is present. His flesh becomes visible in the flesh of the tortured, the crushed, the scourged, the malnourished, and the exiled…to be acknowledged, touched, and cared for by us. Let us not forget the words of Saint John of the Cross: “as we prepare to leave this life, we will be judged on the basis of love”.12

Here, then, is a picture of the “once-for-all” element in the cross (cf. Heb. 9:11-14, 23-26); we do not need a new sacrifice, but fresh confession (1 John 1:7, 9).

The external world we perceive with our sense organs, as it is in itself, is transcendent, autonomous, independent of our volition, seemingly separate from us, animated by its own impetus and organized according to archetypes (cf. synchronicity). We perceive this world because its dynamisms impinge on ego-consciousness through the sense organs, generating the autonomous imagery of perception. In an entirely analogous manner, the collective unconscious, as it is in itself, is also transcendent, autonomous, independent of our volition, seemingly separate from us, animated by its own impetus and organized according to archetypes. We perceive the collective unconscious because its dynamisms impinge on ego-consciousness through a shared, internal psychic boundary, generating the autonomous imagery of dreams and visions. Do you see the elegant symmetry of this view?

Paul said God had put his ambassadors on display as a theater to the cosmos (Cf. Heb. 11:39–12:1). The word in 1 Corinthians 4:9, frequently translated “spectacle,” is actually the word for “theater” (theatron; θεατρον). While the designation might be applied to the church generally,8 it is my prayer that this verse moves the church to prepare some of her members to become missionaries to the people group of dramatic professionals who are not likely to be reached by outsiders. The dramatic arts are arguably today’s most influential mode of cultural communication. We are fools if we neglect proclaiming God’s kingdom in this vital marketplace.

or trepidation, like they wanted to run away as fast as they could once the photo was taken. But Manfred Lange appeared happy to be photographed. His occupation was listed as art historian, and his date of birth as 29 June 1871. All consistent with what Anna knew about him. She flipped the little cardboard folder of his work permit over. Underneath was a membership card to the NSDAP, the Nazi Party. Again, his unapologetic face stared out at her. Member number 149578. So he had been a party member. Anna twinged a little. Had he told her he had been a party member? People with important jobs usually had to be, and it didn’t necessarily mean they were true believers, or even sympathizers. Still, it bothered her. She scanned the room trying not to appear furtive but failing. She quickly flipped pages to see if she could find his Fragebogen, the questionnaire the Americans would have made him complete. But it wasn’t there, of course, because these were the Germans’ files, not the Americans’. Deeply uncomfortable, she flipped back to the party membership card. The date of issue was 20 April 1933. Hitler’s birthday. Manfred Lange had been what the Germans called a March Violet—a late bloomer. March Violets were those who joined the party right after Hitler had seized full authority in March of 1933. Many with elite jobs and who considered themselves to have standing in society, rushed to join the party in order to be on the right side of the power grab. Probably that’s what Manfred Lange had done, too, like millions of others. She closed the folder indicating she was ready to go. She wanted to be out of the building and far away. “Find anything we should know about?” Bender asked, as he held the door for her. “No,” she lied. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat. The air had turned colder and the sky was socked in with dense clouds. “Looks like we’re in the clear for now. At least with the folks working for us.” He shot her a look. “Should you have let me see Herr Lange’s information?” Anna retaliated to deflect any further line of questioning. He smiled as he started the engine. “Probably not,” he said, “but I can’t help it. I’m so nosy.” Six “Where were you? I couldn’t find you at all yesterday.” Cooper was flustered and irritated but a smile appeared when Anna looked up at him from her desk. Things had piled up while she was out with Bender, so she had come in early to catch up. Anna honestly couldn’t remember if Manfred Lange had mentioned being a party member; she could only recall that he was very against the Nazis’ attitude toward art and free speech to the point where the memories had upset him. She hated that these misgivings lived on and probably would forever. One day, Amalia would ask her what she had done in the war. “I went with Bender to Darmstadt. I thought you knew about that,” she said. “He told me he had checked with you.” “That’s right. Of course. Was it a successful trip?” He sat down in the chair next to her table, intent on something. “I think so. He asked me to help him translate some paperwork. He was checking on some personnel? I didn’t find anything.” “Sounds like good news. For us, anyway. We already had to fire some people when their past caught up with them.” “Because they were party members?” “Or worse. Makes sense, but we had to let some very qualified people go. And with all these government types breathing down our necks, we can’t afford a single screw up. Washington is just waiting for something to go wrong so they can scrap this whole operation.” His face sank back into the shadows it had carried for the past weeks. He leaned forward and dropped his face into his hands. Anna felt sorry for him. “That won’t happen,” she said. “You will make sure of it.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. Without looking at her, Cooper took her hand in his and held it in place, his

The kind of praise the Father seeks is not a cacophony of mindless pandemonium. Worship is not mere frenzy and feelings. “Those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). God “delight[s] in truth in the inward being” (Ps. 51:6 ESV). Therefore true worship (like authentic sanctification) cannot bypass the mind; it is all about the renewing of the mind (Rom. 12:1–2; cf. Eph. 4:23–24). As Jonathan Edwards said, genuine, biblical worship should bring people “to high and exalting thoughts of the divine Being and his glorious perfections [and it] works in them an admiring, delightful sense of the excellency of Jesus Christ.”58 The effect is that we become whole new persons—“renewed in knowledge” (Col. 3:10). Scripture knows nothing of any type of spirituality that bypasses intellect and operates only on feelings.

Apart from overlooking the fact that the gospel is already foolishness and a stumbling block to unbelievers (1 Corinthians 1:18, 23), this belief is antithetical to the apostolic example of preaching to a pagan culture. Wherever the Apostle Paul went in his missionary journeys there was either a revival (Acts 13:48–49, 16:5, 19–34, 17:4) or a riot (Acts 13:50, 14:19, 16:19–24, 17:5). Those early Christians were not persecuted because the message of Christianity was different to that of the Greeks and Romans (i.e., monotheism vs polytheism) but because of its unique and authoritative claim that Jesus is Lord of all, and we must submit to Him (Acts 10:36; 17:6–7; cf.1 Thessalonians 1:9–10).

Franzmann, a Bible interpreter and theologian, was also a hymn writer. In a hymn on the Reformation, he concludes with a beautiful, unforgettable prayer. He asks that the Holy Spirit would breathe on his “cloven church once more, That in these gray and latter days, There may be men whose life is praise, Each life a high doxology, to Father, Son, and unto Thee.”3 When our theology becomes doxology, it not only is sung but creates lives of “high doxology”—lives in which we truly no longer live, but having been crucified with Christ, we live in and through him (cf. Gal. 2:20). As Jesus prayed, “that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us. . . . I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one” (John 17:21, 23).

CHARACTER OVER COMPETENCY. When churches put together a candidate profile, they need to begin by laying out a vision for what they think a senior pastor ought to be. By walking through the key texts on Christian leadership (as we did in chapter 3), they can show that they are committed to a leader who is not a bully but gentle (1 Tim. 3:3; cf. Titus 1:7); not out for shameful gain but eagerly serving (1 Peter 5:2); not domineering but setting an example (1 Peter 5:3); and not quarrelsome but kind (2 Tim. 2:24). To be sure, this doesn’t mean the search committee cares only about character. Competency in a number of areas matters too. But the church needs to be clear that giftedness is not the only—or main—thing they are looking for.

The lexeme alb/alf-, “elf,” derives from the Proto-Indo-European root albh-, whose primary meaning is “white, clear” (cf. Latin albus). This root also underlies the name of the famous Central European river the Elbe and the Old Norse noun elfr, which means “river.” In Old High German, the swan is called alpiz and the alder, albari, a tree that prefers wetlands and areas near water. For now, we should keep in mind the essential element I hope to draw out of these texts: the family of creatures to which Alberîch belongs is closely connected to water in its two most ancient symbolic forms: life—associated with the animus—and death—nibel, nifl.

he did retain some elements that make it possible to pin down a little better the personality and nature of Alberîch. The dwarf lives in a mountainous country, or even inside a mountain—one where treasure has been hidden. The inhabitants of these lands remain imprecisely defined, but there are giants and most likely dwarfs, those over whom Alberîch is ruler. The names of the sovereigns of this land are quite revealing. Nibelung is formed from nibel-, “mist, fog, cloud” (cf. Old Norse nifl; it is also related to Latin nebula) and -ing/-ung, a Germanic suffix that establishes a relationship of belonging and kinship or lineage, such as we find in the word Merovingians, the sons of Merovech. Etymologically, Nibelung therefore refers to the “descendant or son of the mist,” which makes the land that takes its name from him a mythical empire comparable to the Norse Niflheimr, the “World of the Mist,” one of the names given to the realm of the dead in ancient Scandinavian mythology. It is essential that we do not underestimate the importance of this revelation.

Typically, the cessationist view is reproached with something like trying to “put the Spirit in a box.” But according to Scripture, as I will try to show below, the Spirit has sovereignly chosen to “box” himself in; the ardor of the Spirit, we may say, is an “ordered ardor” (cf. 1 Cor. 14:33, 40).

Our reason to pray for such spiritual benefits is a fairly obvious one—one that we have affirmed again and again in this book: “so that the name of our Lord Jesus will be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Thess. 1:12). That is the ultimate reason we do anything in the Christian life. If that isn’t our ultimate goal, we’re focusing too much on ourselves (cf. John 14:13–14).

When we face real people with eternal souls balanced between heaven and hell, the nobility of preaching both awes us and makes us more aware of our inadequacies (cf. 1 Cor. 2:3).

In the theory of well-ordered series and compact series, we have followed Cantor closely, except in dealing with Zermelo's theorem (*257—8), and in cases where Cantor's work tacitly assumes the multiplicative axiom. Thus what novelty there is, is in the main negative. In particular, the multiplicative axiom is required in all known proofs of the fundamental proposition that the limit of a progression of ordinals of the second class {i.e. applicable to series whose fields have ^{o terms) is an ordinal of the second class (cf *265). In consequence of this fact, a very large part of the recognized theory of transfinite ordinals must be considered doubtful.

If we believed that God was in charge and our actions meant nothing, it would lead to discouraged passivity. If on the other hand we really believed that our actions changed God’s plan—it would lead to paralyzing fear. If both are true, however, we have the greatest incentive for diligent effort, and yet we can always sense God’s everlasting arms under us. In the end, we can’t frustrate God’s good plans for us (cf. Jer 29:11).

January 31 Do You See Your Calling? Separated unto the Gospel. Romans 1:1 Our calling is not primarily to be holy men and women, but to be proclaimers of the Gospel of God. The one thing that is all important is that the Gospel of God should be realised as the abiding Reality. Reality is not human goodness, nor holiness, nor heaven, nor hell, but Redemption; and the need to perceive this is the most vital need of the Christian worker to-day. As workers we have to get used to the revelation that Redemption is the only Reality. Personal holiness is an effect, not a cause, and if we place our faith in human goodness, in the effect of Redemption, we shall go under when the test comes. Paul did not say he separated himself, but—“when it pleased God, who separated me. . . .” Paul had not a hypersensitive interest in his own character. As long as our eyes are upon our own personal whiteness we shall never get near the reality of Redemption. Workers break down because their desire is for their own whiteness, and not for God. “Don’t ask me to come into contact with the rugged reality of Redemption on behalf of the filth of human life as it is; what I want is anything God can do for me to make me more desirable in my own eyes.” To talk in that way is a sign that the reality of the Gospel of God has not begun to touch me; there is no reckless abandon to God. God cannot deliver me while my interest is merely in my own character. Paul is unconscious of himself, he is recklessly abandoned, separated by God for one purpose—to proclaim the Gospel of God (cf. Romans 9:3).

Today, certainly it is important for us to show that same respect and fidelity to the Word of God, so as not to manipulate it to fit historical, political, or ideological circumstances, for the purpose of pleasing men and acquiring a reputation as a scholar or avant-garde theologian. . . . As Saint Paul says, “We are not like so many [who] practice cunning or. . . tamper with God’s word” (cf. 2 Cor 2:17; 4:2).

40. Let us use peace in the right way: repudiating our evil alliance with the world and its ruler, let us at last break off the war which we wage against God through the passions. Concluding an unbreakable covenant of peace with Him by destroying the body of sin within us (cf. Rom. 6:6), let us put an end to our hostility towards Him.

The enemy and the avenger may appear strong, but the Lord uses the verbal, babbling praise of these young covenant children to silence their accusations. God works through the lowliest of the low to bring in His victorious kingdom. By setting covenant infants in the context of holy war, this psalm also helps us understand the task of Christian parenting. As parents, we must (by faith) view our children as warriors in the Lord’s army. They are on active duty even in their infancy, but we must continue to train them to obey their Commander-in-Chief more fully as they mature. They will learn more and more how to wield their weapons, use their defensive armor, and follow out the Captain’s battle strategy. But this passage indicates they are conscripted by the Lord from their earliest days; the Lord does not need to wait for them to develop intellectually and physically because He is the one who fights through them. Indeed, young children are some of the best soldiers in the Lord’s army precisely because His strength is manifested in their weakness (cf. 2 Cor. 12:9). This does not mean their immaturity remains ideal; they must grow up over time, attaining to maturity in Christ. However, it does mean that even before they grow they are able to fight. God has already stationed them on the battlefield.

Almost every book in the NT has something to say about false beliefs and those who advocate them. We are warned, e.g., about false prophets (Matt. 7:15–16; 24:11), false christs (Matt. 24:5, 24; Mark 13:22), a different Jesus and a different spirit (2 Cor. 11:4), false apostles (2 Cor. 11:13–15), and “another gospel” (Gal. 1:8). With so many warnings, it is clear God knew that many false teachers would come, and that he did not want his people to be deceived (cf. Eph. 4:14; 2 John 7). In what follows, notable deceptions of prominent cults will be summarized, along with a brief biblical response. From the viewpoint of those who hold to historic, evangelical Christianity, a “cult” is any religious movement that claims to be derived from the Bible and/or the Christian faith, and that advocates beliefs that differ so significantly with major Christian doctrines that two consequences follow: (1) The movement cannot legitimately be considered a valid “Christian” denomination because of its serious deviation from historic Christian orthodoxy. (2) Believing the doctrines of the movement is incompatible with trusting in the Jesus Christ of the Bible for the salvation that comes by God’s grace alone (Eph. 2:8–9). By this traditional understanding of the word “cult,” the following groups described are “cults,” though this does not imply that they share the extremely oppressive, authoritarian, life-controlling, and often immoral practices that are found in what the secular world calls “cults,” using the term in a more extreme sense.

[E]volution is not a cause, but the description of a process … Can we in any way explain the origin of species? Are we to suppose that each species, or what we regard as a species, originated in the fiat of an almighty power? Or are we to suppose that we are to go indefinitely backwards, and affirm that a chain of secondary causation is to be continued indefinitely backwards? … The treatment of evolution as a cause, capable of leading us on indefinitely, tends to shut out the idea of a First Cause; its treatment as a possible mode of sequence, leading us a step or two onwards, still leaves the mind directed towards a First Cause, though ‘Clouds and darkness are round about Him.’ [cf. Psalm 97] … Remember, Evolution does not mean a cause.

The ultimate purpose in this exercise is more clearly to hear and apprehend the living word of the living God (cf. Acts 7:38), so that we may encounter God increasingly and know him more deeply, and so think and do those things that honor God.[1]

The Old Testament allusions frequently presuppose their Old Testament context and a range of connexions between Old Testament texts which are not made explicit but lie beneath the surface of the text of Revelation. If we wonder what the average Christian in the churches of Asia could make of this, we should remember that the strongly Jewish character of most of these churches made the Old Testament much more familiar than it is even to well-educated modern Christians. But we should also remember the circle of Christian prophets in the churches (cf. 22:9, 16) who would probably have studied, interpreted and expounded John’s prophecy with the same kind of learned attention they gave to the Old Testament prophecies.

So you should continually keep in mind the great humiliation which the Lord took upon Himself in His ineffable love for us: how the divine Logos dwelt in a womb; how He took human nature upon Himself; His birth from a woman; His gradual bodily growth; the shame He suffered, the insults, vilification, ridicule and abuse; how He was scourged and spat upon, derided and mocked; the scarlet robe, the crown of thorns; His condemnation by those in power; the outcry of the unruly Jews, men of His own race, against Him: 'Away with him, away with him, crucify him' (John 19:15); the cross, the nails, the lance, the drink of vinegar and gall; the scorn of the Gentiles; the derision of the passers-by who said: 'If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross and we will believe you' (cf Matt. 27:39-42); and the rest of the sufferings which He patiently accepted for us: crucifixion; death; the three-day burial; the descent into hell.

But to approximate chastisement to satisfaction for sin is to impinge not only on the perfection of Christ’s work but also upon the nature of Christ’s satisfaction. “There is therefore now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). There must not be any abatement of the Protestant polemic against this perversion of the gospel of Christ. If we once allow the notion of human satisfaction to intrude itself in our construction of justification or sanctification then we have polluted the river the streams whereof make glad the city of God. And the gravest perversion that it entails is that it robs the Redeemer of the glory of his once-for-all accomplishment. He by himself purged our sins and sat down on the right hand of the majesty on high (cf. Heb. 1:3).

However, current research in animal cognition, and on protolanguage, protomorality, ritual, and levels of consciousness, has shown that we may not be as unique as we think we are (cf. Peterson 1999: 283ff.).

The members of the Sanhedrin who met to try Jesus violated ethical standards held not only by Pharisees but even by many Gentile moralists of the period. Trials were supposed to be conducted during daylight, in the normal meeting hall (in this case that was near the temple), not in the leading judge’s home. Whereas Pharisees opposed hasty executions after deliberations, the Sadducees were known for harsh and often quick punishments. The most obvious breach of ethics, of course, is the presence of false and mutually contradictory witnesses. Clearly some members of the Sanhedrin present acted with legal integrity, cross-examining the witnesses, but by Pharisaic standards, the case should have been thrown out once the witnesses contradicted one another (Mk 14:59). The high priest’s plan may have been simply to have a preliminary hearing to formulate a charge to bring to Pilate (cf. Mt 27:1; Mk 15:1; Lk 22:66; 23:1), the expected procedure before accusing someone before the governor. The actions of the Sanhedrin fit what we know of the period. The Roman government usually depended on local elites to charge troublemakers. Local elites were often corrupt, and all our other sources from the period (Josephus, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and Pharisaic memories) agree that the aristocratic priesthood that controlled Jerusalem abused its power against others. A generation later, the chief priests arrested a Jewish prophet for announcing judgment against the temple; they handed him over to a Roman governor, who had him beaten until (Josephus says) his bones showed (Josephus, Wars 6.300–305). Their treatment of Jesus fits their usual behavior toward those who challenged their authority. ◆

Where is your wife Sarah? It could be inferred from the angel’s question that it was unusual for Sarah not to be there—either in a serving capacity or joining them in the meal (there is no evidence of women eating separately in the ancient world). It could also be inferred from Abraham’s curt response (“there, in the tent”) that this was not just the circumstance of the moment and that she could be sent for. These are not necessary inferences, but there is a possibility that something is indicated here that was transparent to the Israelite reader, yet elusive to us. That is, it is possible that Sarah has had to retreat to the tent and is now confined there—that she has suddenly, much to her shock and consternation, become “indisposed.” Menstruation rendered a woman unclean in the ancient world and would have prohibited her from social contact and from food preparation and serving. The text specifically indicates that she had already gone through menopause (v. 11), but if she were to bear a child, her period would need to restart. The timing would have to be precise here. In v. 6 Abraham asked Sarah to bake some bread, an activity often forbidden to menstruating women in Abraham’s time, so at that point her period had not begun. Yet she would not be confined to her tent unless she actually had her period. If this is the issue, she experienced the onset of her period as dinner is being served. We know even from the Biblical narratives that menstruating women were at times confined to their tents (cf. 31:34–35). This view is also attested in the ancient Near East. Though somewhat speculative, this line of thinking would explain why the announcement that Sarah would bear a child is introduced by a question concerning Sarah’s whereabouts, leading the somewhat embarrassed Abraham to offer the euphemistic explanation that she is “in the tent” as a way of explaining that she is indisposed (note our modern euphemism, “it’s that time of the month”). One could almost imagine a transitional, “Indeed, and that is just the beginning . . .” It would have constituted a remarkable sign of the resumption of her fertility.

When the divine fathers expound the doctrine of the supra-essential, holy and supernatural Trinity, they illustrate it by saying that the Father truly corresponds to the intellect, the Son to consciousness and the Holy Spirit to the spirit. Thus they bequeath to us the dogma of one God in three Persons as the hallmark of the true faith and the anchor of hope. For, according to Scripture, to apprehend the one God is the root of immortality, and to know the majesty of the three-personed Monad is complete righteousness (cf. Wisd. 15:3). Again, we should read what is said in the Gospel in the same way: eternal life is to know Thee the only true God in three Persons, and Him whom Thou hast sent, Jesus Christ, in two natures and two wills (cf. John 17:3).

Race and culture. The moralist/conservative bias is to use truth to evaluate cultures. Feeling superior to others in the impulse of self-justifying pride, moralists idolize their culture as supreme. The relativist/liberal approach is to relativize all cultures (“We can all get along because there is no truth”). The gospel leads us, on the one hand, to be somewhat critical of all cultures, including our own (since truth is objective and real). On the other hand, it leads us to recognize we are morally superior to no one, since we are saved by grace alone. In this instance, the gospel is the grand leveler. Both sin and grace strip everyone of every boast. “All have sinned” (Rom 3:23, emphasis added); “there is no one righteous, not even one” (Rom 3:10, emphasis added; cf. Ps 143:2); therefore, “whoever believes in [Jesus] shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16, emphasis added; cf. Mark 16:16; John 3:36; 5:24; 7:38; 11:26). For in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female” (Gal 3:28, emphasis added). Christianity is universal in that it welcomes everybody, but it is also particular in its confession that Jesus is Lord, and culture and ethnicity (or whatever other identity) are not. Gospel-relying Christians will exhibit both moral conviction and compassion with flexibility.

When we submit to the Word of God as our authority, we are submitting to the Spirit Himself, since He inspired every word it contains. No true work of the Spirit will contradict, devalue, or add new revelation to the Scriptures (cf. Rev. 22:17–19). Instead it will elevate biblical truth in the hearts and minds of believers.

significance of the foot than modern languages. Human action consists of spatial forward movement to a goal.”2 Old Testament wisdom and poetry frequently use the metaphors of “steps” (‘ashur) for “living.” This is picked up by New Testament authors, who use the term for “walking around” (peripateō) as a metaphor for “living” or one’s “lifestyle.” “My steps have held fast to Your paths. My feet have not slipped.” (Ps. 17:5) “The steps of a man are established by the LORD, and He delights in his way.” (Ps. 37:23; cf. 31) “Our heart has not turned back, and our steps have not deviated from Your way.” (Ps. 44:18) “He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.” (Ps. 40:2) “Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into

death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” (Rom. 6:4; cf. 2 Cor. 12:18)

Q. [69] If, as St John says, he who is born of God does not sin, because his seed dwells in God, and he cannot sin (1 Jn 3:9), and yet he who is born of water and Spirit is himself born of God (cf Jn 3:5–6), then how are we who are born of God through baptism still able to sin? R. The manner of birth from God within us is two-fold: the one bestows the grace of adoption, which is entirely present in potency (δυνάμει) in those who are born of God; the other introduces, wholly by active exertion (κατ’ ἐνέργειαν), that grace which deliberately (γνωμικῶς) reorients the entire free choice of the one being born of God toward the God who gives birth.

In reality, we are all equally disadvantaged. None of us naturally seeks after God, none is inherently righteous, none instinctively does good (cf. Romans 3:9-18). Therefore, as children of grace, our spiritual discipline is everything — everything! I repeat . . . discipline is everything!

Towards the end of the Seventh Step of The Ladder of Divine Ascent, St. John of Sinai says that we shall not be condemned for not having performed miracles, nor for not having been great theologians or contemplatives. We shall, however, need to give an account for not having mourned sufficiently over our sins, our state of corruption, and our imperfections. For we know very well (and the prayers of our Church confirm it) that no man can live a single day upon earth without sin. This being the case, we must do our utmost to keep ourselves from sin by cultivating the new tree of the spiritual paradise which has taken root inside our bosom, and by watering it with the streams of our tears. And the One Who would be enthroned within our hearts will show Himself to be stronger than the one that rules over this world (cf. 1 John 4:4). In other words, the presence of God must become active within us that the enemy, the possessor of this world and tormentor of our souls, be overcome.

(2) When David starts to enumerate "all his benefits" (103:2), he begins with the forgiveness of sins (103:3). Here is a man who understands what is of greatest importance. If we have everything but God's forgiveness, we have nothing of worth; if we have God's forgiveness, everything else of value is also promised (cf. Rom. 8:32).

We often translate it “law,” yet it comes from a root meaning “to give a direction,” “to point the way.” In the Bible, it means first a particular oracle showing God’s direction for conduct, and in time it refers to the entire Pentateuch (cf. Neh. 8:1). So the law, the Torah, is the Way—and it is no accident that the chief Hebrew word for sin, chatah, means not as we might say to “break” the law, but literally, to “miss the way.

Based on theoretical analysis, clinical observations, and some research findings (e.g., Kluft & Fine, 1993; Nijenhuis, Van der Hart, & Steele, 2002; Putnam, 1997; Reinders et al., 2003, submitted; Steinberg, 1995), as well as on 19th and early 20th century literature on dissociation (cf., Van der Hart & Dorahy, in press), we propose that traumatization essentially involves a degree of dissociative division of the personality that likely occurs along the lines of innate action systems of daily life and defense— what has been called structural dissociation of the personality (e.g., Nijenhuis et al., 2002; Van der Hart, Nijenhuis, Steele, & Brown, 2004). Dissociation of the personality develops when children or adults are exposed to potentially traumatizing events, and when their integrative capacity is insufficient to (fully) integrate these experiences within the confines of a relatively coherent personality.

We should also point out the significance of the fact that Jesus' ministry differed so markedly in character from that expected of the Coming One by the Baptist. Why should Jesus so fully ignore the prophetic expectation of one so obviously inspired (cf. Mark 11.30) ? Why did Jesus not see his ministry in terms of judgment? How came he to be so selective in his use of OT prophecy? The most obvious answer is that he had found God in his own experience to be a God of grace more than of judgment. The power which he experienced working through his ministry was a power to heal not to destroy. The message given him to proclaim was the message of God's favour not of God's vengeance. His own experience of God, of divine power and inspiration, made clear to him what parts of OT prophecy were applicable to and descriptive of his ministry, and what were not.