Is there a moral justification for the Afghan war? Ahmad Majidyar, writing for National Review Online, writes, “It is a shame that the Obama administration and its European allies no longer justify the war in Afghanistan on moral grounds, such as democracy and human rights.” He quotes a BBC account of a couple found guilty of adultery:

The video begins with Siddqa, a 25-year-old woman, standing waist-deep in a hole in the ground. She is entirely hidden in a blue burka. Hundreds of men from the village are gathered as two mullahs pass sentence. As Taliban fighters look on, the sentence is passed and she is found guilty of adultery. The stoning lasts two minutes. Hundreds of rocks — some larger than a man’s fist — are thrown at her head and body. She tries to crawl out of the hole, but is beaten back by the stones. A boulder is then thrown at her head, her burka is soaked in blood, and she collapses inside the hole. Incredibly Siddqa was still alive. The mullahs are heard saying she should be left alone. But a Taliban fighter steps forward with a rifle and she is shot three times. Then her lover, Khayyam, is brought to the crowd. His hands are tied behind his back. Before he is blindfolded he looks into the mobile phone camera. He appears defiant. The attack on him is even more ferocious. His body, lying face down, jerks as the rocks meet their target. He is heard to be crying, but is soon silent. . . .

This, he says, “is a grim reminder of what will happen to the 30 million Afghan people, especially women, if the United States and NATO forces leave the country prematurely.”

Now let me correct that statement: This is a grim reminder of what has been happening for centuries, and is what will continue to happen to the 30 million Afghan people, especially women, when the United States and NATO forces leave the country. This is how it is in Islamic nations. What are we to do about it? Shall we occupy the entire Middle East indefinitely? The fact must be faced: there is nothing we can do about this. Tragic as these stories are, they are a part of Islamic life. Until we admit that we are, in fact, at war with Islam, we won’t even begin to eliminate these tragedies. And if we consider such a war realistically, we must conclude that it can’t be won. We can, and must, police our own soil, but no one can seriously imagine eradicating Islam from the Middle East.

Majidyar also repeats the error of countless Americans before him: that democracy is a moral imperative. While a democratic constitutional republic such as ours (as it was originally designed, that is) is undeniably superior to all others, all cultures are not compatible with democracy. Islamic cultures are perfect examples of that. More importantly, there is no indication in Scripture that God wills all nations to be governed democratically. Furthermore, there is no biblical mandate for spreading democracy, especially by military force.

The founders of the United States of America were able to create and sustain a free society because of — and only because of — the pervasive influence of Christianity that existed at that time. Liberty cannot be sustained in the absence of the gospel. So if you really want to liberate the Afghan, or any other, people, trade the soldiers for missionaries. Send the gospel, which alone has the power to set captives free.

2/2

I had intended to read with the family last night (currently reading Tom Sawyer), but our comings and goings were unsynchronized, making it impossible. So I decided to make use of my free trial month of Netflix to watch The Importance of Being Earnest (the 1952 production, which I haven’t seen). One of those going, however, declared that I simply had to wait until she would be home to see it as well, so I went looking for alternate entertainment. I consider my final choice to be providential because, as I was unaware of the date and its significance, there was no design on my part to create the coincidence that occurred.

If you can guess my choice, you win absolutely nothing (no purchase necessary, offer void where prohibited).

Last week I gave an account of a trivial coincidence that occurred in the process of entertaining myself the previous evening. I called it, facetiously, predestination and providence. I don’t, of course, really believe that God bothers with such insignificant things. I shouldn’t, should I?

Little coincidences like that fascinate me. In fact, I think I can honestly say that I took more delight in realizing that I had watched Ground Hog Day on Ground Hog Day, without knowing it and when I had specifically intended to watch something else — The importance of Being Earnest — than I took from actually watching Ground Hog Day. You may roll your eyes and call that just another of my quirks, for so it is. I notice these things all the time, and no doubt I will be boring my friends and family with such stories on my very death-bed. If I was to acknowledge psychology as anything more that the pseudo-science it is, I’m sure I could label myself with some syndrome or disorder, most likely incorporating the word obsessive. Anyway . . .

That was February the 2nd. February 4th rolled around, Friday night, and the daughter for whom I delayed Earnest was home, so I watched it. While selecting it, I noted in my Netflix Instant Play Queue an old movie called The Eye of the Needle, which is based on a novel by that same title. I’ve just begun reading it, so I’m saving the film until I’ve finished the book.

(By this point, you’ve either clicked away to something more suited to your short attention span, or the suspense is killing you. Where will this fascinating tale end? you ask with bated breath. Patience, children; the climax approaches.)

Well, we watched The Importance of Being Earnest (1952). Anyone familiar with the story will remember that one of our protagonists, Mr. John Worthing, was an orphan who had, as an infant, been found in a handbag in a cloakroom at Victoria Station. It is a pivotal fact of that story, as well as this one, so bookmark it in your memory.

(Keep in mind dear friends, that the convergence of events that I am about to relate would not have occurred as it did without the contributing circumstances two evenings previous, with which I have already enthralled you.)

Where was I? Oh, yes, the cloakroom at Victoria Station: a pivotal part of The Importance of Being Earnest, which I watched Friday night. Later, as I retired for the night, I picked up my current bed-time reading, the previously-mentioned The Eye of the Needle, and there it was. At the bottom of the third page of chapter four (I couldn’t help being a bit disappointed that it was not the third of three or the fourth of four), was the following paragraph:

   In January 1939 Snow [a German spy] got a letter containing (i) instructions for the use of a wireless transmitter and (ii) a ticket for the cloakroom at Victoria Station.

At this point, some of you may be thinking I’ve wasted your time in a shaggy dog-esque manner. You are incomprehensibly unable to appreciate the exquisite beauty of the story. You may be wondering how one who pretentiously uses the word “theologian” in his blog title can post something so frivolous. Well, I’ve got something for you, too.

What if these are more than mere coincidences? What if God actually intentionally orchestrated these circumstances and events? Would he do that? Suppose God, knowing — because he made me — how it would please me, put together a neat little package of “coincidences” for my pleasure. Can you believe it? You should. If the statement “it is more blessed to give than to receive” is true, don’t you think it is true, most of all, of its author? A loving father knows how to give good gifts to his children. Not all of those gifts are big, important, or necessary for life. Some are just toys.

So I believe that as I smiled at the paragraph quoted above, God smiled with me, because he takes pleasure in my pleasure, however trivial. And it is only right to thank him earnestly for these simple gifts.

Questions 1 & 2 from the Heidelberg Catechism:

What is thy only comfort in life and in death?

That I, with body and soul, both in life and in death, am not my own, but belong to my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ, who with his precious blood has fully satisfied for all my sins, and redeemed me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must work together for my salvation. Wherefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me heartily willing and ready henceforth to live unto him.

How many things are necessary for thee to know, that thou in this comfort mayest live and die happily?

Three things: First, the greatness of my sin and misery. Second, how I am redeemed from all my sins and misery. Third, how I am to be thankful to God for such redemption.

—The Creeds of Christendom, ed. Philip Schaff (Baker Books, 2007), 307–308.

Times have changed. People are still the same, but my, how the times have changed. When I was a teenager in the early ’eighties, pornography was acquired only through determined effort. The availability was limited, and there was a stigma attached to it. Men had to expose themselves to the embarrassment of purchasing it in face-to-face transactions at the drugstore or other public establishment, or sneak away, looking over their shoulders in fear for their reputations, to “adult” bookstores. Boys had to take the risk of shoplifting it, or if lucky, find their older brother’s or father’s stash of dirty magazines. A decade later, little had changed for boys like Tim Challies. Tim is the author of a little book I read early this morning called Sexual Detox: A Guide for Guys Who Are Sick of Porn. Beyond that, he requires little introduction here.

Add another decade, and all that has changed. Anyone can, free of charge and in total privacy, consume all the porn he wants — with no effort beyond a few clicks of the mouse, and no risk of public embarrassment. This has created the perfect environment for a virtual pandemic of sexual perversion. This corruption, and its cure, is the burden of Sexual Detox. Here’s a sample:

   If you are like most young men, you have already started to give in to temptation. Perhaps you have only just begun to look at pornography, or perhaps you’ve been doing it for many years. Perhaps you struggle with masturbation. You don’t want to indulge yourself, but somehow it’s a whole lot tougher to quit than you would have thought. Perhaps you’re finding that, more than ever, sex is filling your mind and affecting your heart.

. . . You will never stop until you see the monstrous nature of the sin you are committing. You will never stop until the sin is more horrifying to you than the commission of the sin is enjoyable. You will need to hate that sin before you can find freedom from it. That means you need more grace. You need to cry out to be changed so you do see the monstrous nature of this sin, and then you need to act, in faith that God will meet you with grace as you seek to cut off pornography and begin the reset.

. . . The first message of this book, then, is that you must see what porn is doing to your heart. You must recognize that the corruption of pornography is real and, despite the convenient and self-indulgent lies we can tell ourselves, that corruption is only going to get worse. The sin underlying the consumption of pornography will not stop escalating until it cripples your marriage, or until you die, or until you get too old and weak to care about sex. The only difference for single guys? The sin won’t stop escalating until it destroys any hope you will ever get married.

—Tim Challies, Sexual Detox: A Guide for Guys Who Are Sick of Porn (Cruciform Press, 2010), 15, 17–18, 21.

Sexual Detox is not a book of moralistic “do better” or therapeutic “live happier.” It offers straight talk about sin and death, grace and redemption.

Sexual Detox makes a thoroughly biblical theological attack on the poison that is pornography. In doing so, it strikes at the root of the problem: the sinful human heart. It reiterates the truism spoken by Albert Mohler that we do not have an alien problem in need of an inner solution, but an inner problem in need of an alien solution. The problem is our sin; the solution is Christ.

Sexual Detox takes in the big picture, offering, in addition to specific help with porn and the sin it breeds, a general theology of sex. So, while it is addressed to men, I believe it will be tremendously helpful to women, as well. This book will take women a long way towards an understanding of biblical sexuality, and I think I can say — without hyperbole — that this might be the last book about sex that any man needs to read, ever, and all in 108 small-format pages, readable in one sitting.

Buy this book. Buy extra copies. Get it into the hands of as many young men as you can. Learn it and live it.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

Hymn XLVII.
The believer’s safety. Psalm xci.
John Newton (1725–1807)

Incarnate God! the soul that knows
   Thy name’s mysterious pow’r;
Shall dwell in undisturb’d repose,
   Nor fear the trying hour.

Thy wisdom, faithfulness and love,
   To feeble helpless worms;
A buckler and a refuge prove,
   From enemies and storms.

In vain the fowler spreads his net,
   To draw them from thy care;
Thy timely call instructs their feet,
   To shun the artful snare.

When like a baneful pestilence,
   Sin mows its thousands down
On ev’ry side, without defence,
   Thy grace secures thine own.

No midnight terrors haunt their bed,
   No arrow wounds by day;
Unhurt on serpents they shall tread,
   If found in duty’s way.

Angels, unseen, attend the saints,
   And bear them in their arms;
To cheer the spirit when it faints,
   And guard the life from harms.

The angels’ Lord, himself is nigh,
   To them that love his name;
Ready to save them when they cry,
   And put their foes to shame.

Crosses and changes are their lot,
   Long as they sojourn here;
But since their Saviour changes not,
   What have the saints to fear?

—from Olney Hymns. Book I: On select Passages of Scripture.

The Gospel According to John

18 When Jesus had spoken these words, He went forth with His disciples over the ravine of the Kidron, where there was a garden, in which He entered with His disciples. 2 Now Judas also, who was betraying Him, knew the place, for Jesus had often met there with His disciples. 3 Judas then, having received the Roman cohort and officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees, came there with lanterns and torches and weapons. 4 So Jesus, knowing all the things that were coming upon Him, went forth and said to them, “Whom do you seek?” 5 They answered Him, “Jesus the Nazarene.” He said to them, “I am He.” And Judas also, who was betraying Him, was standing with them. 6 So when He said to them, “I am He,” they drew back and fell to the ground. 7 Therefore He again asked them, “Whom do you seek?” And they said, “Jesus the Nazarene.” 8 Jesus answered, “I told you that I am He; so if you seek Me, let these go their way,” 9 to fulfill the word which He spoke, “Of those whom You have given Me I lost not one.” 10 Simon Peter then, having a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s slave, and cut off his right ear; and the slave’s name was Malchus. 11 So Jesus said to Peter, “Put the sword into the sheath; the cup which the Father has given Me, shall I not drink it?”

   These verses begin St. John’s account of Christ’s sufferings and crucifixion. We now enter on the closing scene of our Lord’s ministry, and pass at once from His intercession to His sacrifice. We shall find that, like the other Gospel-writers, the beloved disciple enters fully into the story of the cross. But we shall also find, if we read carefully, that he mentions several interesting points in the story, which Matthew, Mark, and Luke, for some wise reasons, have passed over.
   We should notice, first, in these verses, the exceeding hardness of heart to which a backsliding professor may attain. We are told that Judas, one of the twelve Apostles, became guide to them that took Jesus. We are told that he used his knowledge of the place of our Lord’s retirement, in order to bring His deadly enemies upon Him; and we are told that when the band of men and officers approached his Master, in order to take Him prisoner, Judas “stood with them.” Yet this was a man who for three years had been a constant companion of Christ, had seen His miracles, had heard His sermons, had enjoyed the benefit of His private instruction, had professed himself a believer, had even worked and preached in Christ’s name!—“Lord,” we may well say, “what is man?” From the highest degree of privilege down to the lowest depth of sin, there is but a succession of steps. Privileges misused seem to paralyze the conscience. The same fire that melts wax, will harden clay.
   Let us beware of resting our hopes of salvation on religious knowledge, however great; or religious advantages, however many. We may know all doctrinal truth and be able to teach others, and yet prove rotten at heart, and go down to the pit with Judas. We may bask in the full sunshine of spiritual privileges, and hear the best of Christian teaching, and yet bear no fruit to God’s glory, and be found withered branches of the vine, only fit to be burned. “Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.” (1 Cor. x. 12.) Above all, let us beware of cherishing within our hearts any secret besetting sin, such as love of money or love of the world. One faulty link in a chain-cable may cause a shipwreck. One little leak may sink a ship. One allowed and unmortified sin may ruin a professing Christian. Let him that is tempted to be a careless man in his religious life, consider these things, and take care. Let him remember Judas Iscariot. His history is meant to be a lesson.
   We should notice, secondly, in these verses, the entire voluntariness of Christ’s sufferings. We are told that the first time that our Lord said to the soldiers, “I am He, they went backward, and fell to the ground.” A secret invisible power, no doubt, accompanied the words. In no other way can we account for a band of hardy Roman soldiers falling prostrate before a single unarmed man. The same miraculous influence which tied the priests and Pharisees powerless at the triumphant entry into Jerusalem,—which stopped all opposition when the temple was purged of buyers and sellers,—that same mysterious influence was present now. A real miracle was wrought, though few had eyes to see it. At the moment when our Lord seemed weak, He showed that He was strong.
   Let us carefully remember that our blessed Lord suffered and died of His own free will. He did not die because He could not help it; He did not suffer because He could not escape. All the soldiers of Pilate’s army could not have taken Him, if He had not been willing to be taken. They could not have hurt a hair of His head, if He had not given them permission. But here, as in all His earthly ministry, Jesus was a willing sufferer. He had set His heart on accomplishing our redemption. He loved us, and gave Himself for us, cheerfully, willingly, gladly, in order to make atonement for our sins. It was “the joy set before Him” which made Him endure the cross, and despise the shame, and yield Himself up without reluctance into the hands of His enemies. Let this thought abide in our hearts, and refresh our souls. We have a Saviour who was far more willing to save us than we are willing to be saved. If we are not saved, the fault is all our own. Christ is just as willing to receive and pardon, as He was willing to be taken prisoner, to bleed, and to die.
   We should notice, thirdly, in these verses, our Lord’s tender care for His disciples’ safety. Even at this critical moment, when His own unspeakable sufferings were about to begin, He did not forget the little band of believers who stood around Him. He remembered their weakness. He knew how little fit they were to go into the fiery furnace of the High Priest’s Palace, and Pilate’s judgment-hall. He mercifully makes for them a way of escape.—“If ye seek Me, let those go their way.”—It seems most probable that here also a miraculous influence accompanied his words. At any rate, not a hair of the disciples’ heads was touched. While the Shepherd was taken, the sheep were allowed to flee away unharmed.
   We need not hesitate to see in this incident an instructive type of all our Saviour’s dealings with His people even at this day. He will not suffer them “to be tempted above that which they are able to bear.” He will hold the winds and storms in His hands, and not allow believers, however sifted and buffeted, to be utterly destroyed. He watches tenderly over every one of His children, and, like a wise physician, measures out the right quantity of their trials with unerring skill. “They shall never perish, neither shall any one pluck them out of His hand.” (John x. 28.) Forever let us lean our souls on this precious truth. In the darkest hour the eye of the Lord Jesus is upon us, and our final safety is sure.
   We should notice, lastly, in these verses, our Lord’s perfect submission to his Father’s will. Once, in another place, we find Him saying, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt.” Again, in another place, we find Him saying, “If this cup may not pass away from Me except I drink it, Thy will be done.” Here, however, we find even a higher pitch of cheerful acquiescence: “The cup that my Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?” (Matt. xxvi. 39–42.)
   Let us see in this blessed frame of mind, a pattern for all who profess and call themselves Christians. Far as we may come short of the Master’s standard, let this be the mark at which we continually aim. Determination to have our own way, and do only what we like, is one great source of unhappiness in the world. The habit of laying all our matters before God in prayer, and asking Him to choose our portion, is one chief secret of peace. He is the truly wise man who has learned to say at every stage of his journey, “Give me what Thou wilt, place me where Thou wilt, do with me as Thou wilt; but not my will, but Thine be done.” This is the man who has the mind of Christ. By self-will Adam and Eve fell, and brought sin and misery into the world. Entire submission of will to the will of God is the best preparation for that heaven where God will be all.

—J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007) [Westminster (PB) | Amazon (HC)].

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Questions 1 & 2 from the Westminster Shorter Catechism:

What is the chief end of man?

Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.

What rule hath God given to direct us how we may glorify and enjoy him?

The Word of God, which is contained in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, is the only rule to direct us how we may glorify and enjoy him.

Yet, it is eyes which blind the man. —Master Po

Just for fun:
Can you recognize the religion represented in the following quote? No Googling!

The Disciple said to his Master: Sir, how may I come to the place that I may see with God, and may hear God speak — to a life that is above my senses and feelings — to the supersensual life?

The Master answered and said: Son, when thou canst throw thyself into that, where no creature dwelleth, though it be but for a moment, then thou hearest what God speaketh.

Disciple: Is that place where no creature dwelleth near at hand; or is it afar off?

Master: It is in thee. And if thou canst, my son, for a while but cease from all thy own thinking and willing, then thou shalt hear the unspeakable words of God.

Disciple: How is it that I can hear him speak, when I stand still from thinking and willing?

Master: When thou standest still from the thinking of self, and the willing of self; when both thy intellect and will are quiet and passive to the impressions of the eternal Word and Spirit; when thy soul is winged up, and above that which is temporal with the outward senses and the imagination being locked up by holy abstraction; then the eternal hearing, seeing, and speaking will be revealed in thee; and so God heareth and seeth through thee, being now the organ of his Spirit; and so God speaketh in thee, and whispereth to thy spirit, and thy spirit heareth his voice. Blessed art thou therefore if that thou canst stand still from self-thinking and self-willing, and canst stop the wheel of thy imagination and senses; for it is hereby that thou mayest arrive at length to see the great salvation of God, being made capable of all manner of divine sensations and heavenly communications. Since it is nought indeed but thine own hearing and willing that do hinder thee, so that thou dost not see and hear God.

Disciple: But wherewith shall I hear and see God, for as much as he is above nature and creature?

Master: Son, when thou art quiet and silent, then art thou as God was before nature and creature; thou art that which God then was; thou art that whereof he made thy Nature and Creature: Then thou hearest and seest even with that wherewith God himself saw and heard in thee, before ever thine own willing or thine own seeing began.

Disciple: What now hinders or keeps me back, so that I cannot come to that, wherewith God is to be seen and heard?

Master: Nothing truly but thine own willing, hearing, and seeing do keep thee back from it, and do hinder thee from coming to this supersensual state or the life which is above sense. And it is because thou strivest so against that, out of which thou thyself art descended and derived, that thou thus breakest thyself off, with thine own willing, from God's willing, and with thine own seeing from God's seeing. In as much as in thine own seeing thou dost see in thine own willing only, and with thine own understanding thou dost understand but in and according to this thine own willing, as the same stands divided from the divine will. This thy willing moreover stops thy hearing, and maketh thee deaf towards God, through thy own thinking upon terrestrial things, and thy attending to that which is without thee; and so it brings thee into a ground, where thou art laid hold on and captivated in nature. And having brought thee hither, it overshadows thee with that which thou willest; it binds thee with thine own chains, and it keeps thee in thine own dark prison which thou makest for thyself; so that thou canst not go out thence, or come to that state which is above nature and above sense.

Disciple: But being I am in nature, and thus bound, as with my own chains, and by my own natural will; pray be so kind, Sir, as to tell me, how I may come through nature into the supersensual and supernatural ground, without the destroying of nature?

Master: Three things are requisite in order to do this. The first is, thou must resign up thy will to God; and must sink thy self down to the dust in his mercy. The second is, thou must hate thy own will, and forbear from doing that to which thy own will doth drive thee. The third is, thou must bow thy soul under the cross, heartily submitting thyself to it, that thou mayest be able to bear the temptations of nature and creature. And if thou doest thus, know that God will speak into thee, and will bring thy resigned will in to himself, in the supernatural ground; and then thou shalt hear, my son, what the Lord speaketh in thee.

Update: This quote comes from The Super Sensual Life by Jakob Böhme (1575–1624). I find him referred to as a “German Lutheran” or “in the Lutheran tradition,” but as far as I can see he was only Lutheran if Lutheran means nothing more than not Catholic. The great theologians at Wikipedia only notice that his aberrant theology, which included an errant view of the atonement, “was somewhat at odds with Lutheran teachings.”

Let’s play Name That Quote again:

“God so loved the World,” meaning the whole race of men. By the “world in this connection cannot be meant any particular part only, but the whole race. Not only the Bible, but the nature of the case, shows that the atonement must have been made for the whole world. For plainly if it had not been made for the entire race, no man of the race could ever know that it was made for himself, and therefore not a man could believe on Christ in the sense of receiving by faith the blessings of the atonement. There being an utter uncertainty as to the persons embraced in the limited provisions which we now suppose to be made, the entire donation must fail through the impossibility of rational faith for its reception. Suppose a will is made by a rich man bequeathing certain property to certain unknown persons, described only by the name of “the elect.” They are not described otherwise than by this term, and all agree that although the maker of the will had the individuals definitely in his mind, yet that he left no description of them, which either the persons themselves, the courts, nor any living mortal can understand. Now such a will is of necessity altogether null and void. No living man can claim under such a will, and none the better though these elect were described as residents of [city name]. Since it does not embrace all the residents of [city name], and does not define which of them, all is lost. All having an equal claim and none any definite claim, none can inherit. If the atonement were made in this way, no living man would have any valid reason for believing himself one of the elect, prior to his reception of the Gospel. Hence he would have no authority to believe and receive its blessings by faith. In fact, the atonement must be wholly void—on this supposition—unless a special revelation is made to the persons for whom it is intended.

Remember, Googling is cheating!

Update: This comes from a sermon called God’s Love for a Sinning World by Charles Finney. I think I might have more to say about this on Monday.

It’s a claim you’ve probably heard many times: “Christians divorce at roughly the same rate as the world!” Tim Challies links to an article from Baptist Press by Glen T. Stanton debunking the Christian divorce rate myth. He demonstrates that serious practitioners of religion — Christians, real and nominal — have significantly lower divorce rates.

Professor Bradley Wright, a sociologist at the University of Connecticut, explains from his analysis of people who identify as Christians but rarely attend church, that 60 percent of these have been divorced. Of those who attend church regularly, 38 percent have been divorced. (Read full article)

In other words, one group of people who identify themselves as Christians — but aren’t — have a divorce rate of 60 percent, and another group of people who identify themselves as Christians — among whom many are, but many more are not — have a divorce rate of 38 percent. That is considerably better than “the same rate.” However, I don’t think even that represents the true numbers.

I expect that the number would be significantly lower if members of genuine Bible-believing churches were separated from the mass of apostate pseudo-churches dotting the landscape, and would drop even more if we singled out the minority of churches that practice biblical discipline. It must be admitted that the majority of the 38 percent are not believers at all, but products of apostasy and the plagues of cultural Christianity and undisciplined churches. So we’re left with 38-x percent — make that a big, bold X — of Christians divorcing.

There are still a couple of factors left to consider. First, the statistics quoted are of individuals who “have been divorced.” Many were likely divorced before conversion; they certainly can’t be counted as Christians divorcing. Second, how many of those remaining, who are genuine believers, were married before conversion and are being abandoned, against their will, by unbelieving spouses (1 Corinthians 7:12–15)?

The number left, of genuine believers divorcing believing or unbelieving spouses, is the number that concerns me. Whatever it is, it’s too high. However, I’m convinced that it’s a small percentage of the 38 percent.

The conclusion? Genuine believers, while still imperfect, do not live like unbelievers. The gospel is life-changing. A heart of flesh does not behave “roughly the same” as a heart of stone (Ezekiel 36:24–28). People who have been united with Christ through his death (Galatians 2:20) and are being conformed to his image (Romans 8:29) are not “roughly the same” as those who don’t know him. We who are in Christ are new creatures (2 Corinthians 5:17); new is not “roughly the same” as old. The gospel of Jesus Christ changes everything.

You can’t frame a metaphor or hang it on the wall. You can’t carry it in your purse or wallet to pull out and show to your friends. It is not actually a picture, but we can call it a picture because it’s purpose, like a picture, is to represent something real. The phrase, “a metaphor is a picture,” is itself a metaphor.

Recognizing the representative component in a metaphor as merely representative in no way diminishes the represented object, nor does erasing the distinction between the two show reverence for the object. In fact, quite the opposite is true. Elevation of a symbol to the level of its object robs the object of its singularity. If that object is God, we risk committing idolatry.

If your catechism requires you to ignore or reject this principle, you might want to reconsider your denominational affiliation.

I have recently been asked to contribute to a project involving the Westminster Larger Catechism. Having sworn a blood oath to secrecy, I can’t tell you any more at this time. However, it reminded me of a previous challenge made by my Canadian friend, Daniel, eh? that I answered by versifying part of the Shorter Catechism. So, for your edification (and to answer the question, “Why don’t most people appreciate poetry?”), I give you

Questions 1–17 of the Westminster Shorter Catechism in thirteen haikus:

The chief end of man
Glorify God forever
Pleasure without end

Word of God contained
In Old and New Testaments
Tells how that is done

God is a spirit
Entirely unlimited
In ev’ry aspect

But one God is he
Three persons distinct yet one
A solo trio

The decretive Word
Of his sov’reign counsel
Ordains all that is

His creative hand
Made all that is from nothing
In six days all good

Man male and female
To them he gave dominion
In his image made

Gracious providence
Wise preserving governing
To his creatures giv’n

A covenant made
A tree, a command, a promise
Alternative: death

Serpentine deceit
Nonconformity to law
Transgression of law

They ate of the fruit
God had strictly forbade them
Covenant broken

The covenant made
For Adam’s posterity
In Adam all died

Adam’s guilt shared
All corrupted, all defiled
Sin and misery

Feel free to contribute your own theological verse. It needn’t be based on any confessional statement, and you don’t have to limit yourself to haiku. Any short form will do (I’m especially fond of limericks).

A parable can’t be forced to make every point, of course. In this case, the real-world captain doesn’t get eaten by a shark.