"[T]he world of blogs may be filling up with people who for the previous 200 millennia of human existence kept their weird thoughts more or less to themselves." Read more...

President Bush says that it is "unrealistic" to think that we can deport 12 million illegal immigrants. It is also unrealistic to think that we can catch all murderers, but does that mean that we should de-criminalize murder? Or turn loose the murderers we do catch? -Thomas Sowell

I just returned home from a day of reluctant but necessary shopping, and I'm a little cranky. My complaint concerns store salespeople. Please don't resent the information I am about to share with you. It is really in your best interest to consider it, especially if you work on commission.

When I say "I'm just looking around," that means "Go away." After I have said that,

Don't hover nearby like a mosquito.

Don't stand there and offer opinions and information about every item I pick up or you think I might pick up.

When I ask my wife what she thinks, or vice verse, we're not asking you.

These things are not helpful. When you fail to understand this, I leave and spend my money somewhere else, like I did today.

"The beauty of doing nothing is that you can do it perfectly. Only when you do something is it almost impossible to do it without mistakes. Therefore people who are contributing nothing to society except their constant criticisms can feel both intellectually and morally superior." -Thomas Sowell

"For most of the world, it's really a necessity. The stay-at-home mom is over not just because of women's liberation but because of men's liberation from wanting to be the breadwinners." -Uma Thurman [emphasis added]

Several years ago I aquired one volume of a ten-volume set of The Westminster Pulpit, the preaching of G. Campbell Morgan. I have never read the whole book, only several selected sermons, but they are all quite good. The introduction to this volume refers to Morgan as the "Prince of Expositors." I have looked for volumes to complete the set, but have never found them for a price I was willing to pay. Now, however, Baker Publishing has produced a five-volume set selling for $34.99 from CBD.

Now, here is my question, and the reason I bring this up. I can't remember ever seeing Morgan quoted or mentioned by any of my favorite theologians and authors. If he was such a great reformed preacher, why would that be? Is there some defect in his theology of which I am ignorant? Or was he just not as great as his admirers say?

Tell me what you know about G. Campell Morgan.

Phillip Way's post yesterday, What Day Was Jesus Crucified? reminded me of my own post last year, What Day Was the Crucifixion? So, having nothing to say for myself today, I would like to draw your attention to these two posts. You can pretend mine was written this year instead of last, and that Pastor Way got the idea from me.

I'm still mostly off-line, but while I'm away, here is a question for you to ponder and come up with a good answer for me.

The first of God's laws existed prior to his verbal or written decrees. They are found in his creation. We know much of how God wants things to be because he made them a certain way. For example, even before he spoke concerning homosexuality, he created an order requiring heterosexuality. Based on this reasoning, when God's Word is silent on a question, I look to creation to see what it tells me, if anything, about God's will on the issue. For another, more personal, example, I wear a beard partly because God put it there. I don't believe shaving is in any way sinful, but I do believe that the presence of hair follicles on my face indicates God's intention. Of course, if I see something that appears naturally right, and Scripture disagrees, I know I have a mistaken understanding of nature — which brings me to my question.

1Corinthians 11:14 says, "Doth not even nature itself teach you, that, if a man have long hair*, it is a shame unto him?" My question is, how does nature teach us this? Scripture says so, therefore it is true. However, if men let their hair grow, it naturally grows long, so I would be inclined to believe the opposite.

How does nature itself teach us that long hair on a man is shameful?

Tim Challies wrote yesterday on 10 Tips to Read More and Read Better. It’s a helpful article; I especially liked his final point:

Read What Your Heroes Read - A couple of years ago, while at the Shepherds’ Conference, a young man who was in ministry but had not had opportunity to attend seminary asked John MacArthur what he would recommend to this man so he could continue learning and continue growing in his knowledge of theology. MacArthur’s answer was simple: He said that this pastor should find godly men he admires and read what they read.

This is something I’ve tried to do more in recent years. Of course, that means I often find myself reading over my head. All of my favorite teachers are head and shoulders—and probably navels—above me in every way, and they didn’t get that way by reading The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I often find myself reaching for the fruit on the higher branches. I can’t always reach it, but my reach increases as I stretch.

Anyway, this post is really going nowhere, except to ask you, the reader, who your favorite theologians are. Who has influenced you most profoundly? List as many as you like, but I’d like to see, at the top of the list, at least one living and one dead theologian, if you can.

My most influential living teacher is, by far, John MacArthur. The first serious Christian book I ever purchased was The Gospel According to Jesus. I discovered R. C. Sproul some time later. After that, everything else in the bookstore seemed so light and worthless. I’m thankful that today there seem to be a great increase in good quality, Biblical writing. Certainly, there is an abundance of worthless fluff and downright heresy in Christian bookstores today, but I really believe there is also a resurgence of solid Reformed theology as well.

It is more difficult to name one dead theologian to top the list. I have not read a large amount of any one, but rather small portions of several. I suppose, having been raised Lutheran, and having learned Luther’s Small Catechism and attended a Lutheran bible school, that Luther has influenced me more than I know (which is quite a lot). More recently, as I have begun reading the Puritans, William Gurnall’s The Christian in Complete Armour—which I am reading   v e r y   s l o w l y—has given me more to think about than any other single book. This is the “Christian living” book to replace all of those flaky “How to _____” and “Seven steps to a _____” books in the bookstore.

So, those are my most influential authors, living and dead. Who are yours?

I already linked to this in the sidebar, but this is too good to leave there. I don't know who this guy is, but he's, like, totally . . . you know? Yeah.

Like, You know?
(HT: PyroManiacs)

The following is a commentary on the observance of Christmas delivered by Ben Stein on the CBS Sunday Morning News program on December 18, 2005. You can find it “about 563” times on Google (564 now, I suppose), usually embellished and presented as an email from Stein. In fact, I got caught with the embellished version myself (and after checking Snopes.com and neglecting to scroll down through the whole article, even) and was kindly corrected by a reader. So this is now the corrected version.

Here at this happy time of year, a few confessions from my beating heart. I have no freaking clue who Nick and Jessica are.

I see them on the cover of People and Us constantly when I'm buying my dog biscuits. I still don't know. I often ask the checkers at the grocery stores who they are. They don't know who Nick and Jessica are, either. Who are they? Will it change my life if I know who they are and why they've broken up? Why are they so darned important?

I don't know who Lindsay Lohan is either, and I don't care at all about Tom Cruise's baby.

Am I going to be called before a Senate committee and asked if I'm a subversive? Maybe. But I just have no clue who Nick and Jessica are. Is this what it means to be no longer young? Hm, not so bad.

Next confession: I am a Jew and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish, and it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautifully lit-up, bejeweled trees Christmas trees.

I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are — Christmas trees. It doesn't bother me a bit when people say 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they're slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. I shows that we're all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year.

It doesn't bother me one bit that there's a manger scene on display at a key intersection at my beach house in Malibu.

If people want a creche, fine. The menorah a few hundred yards away is fine, too. I do not like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat. Or maybe I can put it another way. Where did the idea come from that we should worship Nick and Jessica and aren't allowed to worship God as we understand him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where Nick and Jessica came from and where the America we used to know went to.

Warm wishes for a happy holiday season!

Economist and syndicated columnist Thomas Sowell occasionally titles his column Random Thoughts. If you’ve read those columns, please lower your expectations several degrees before continuing.

These are just a few things that have crossed my mind in the past week or so. Some are thoughts inspired by conversations, others are just the fruit of a wandering mind.

On singing:
   Yukon Rebecca shared a nice hymn on Sunday, complete with a performance of said hymn by Fernando Ortega. She commented that it was “one of the few versions I could find that was not sung in a breathy female voice.” She almost set me off on my own list of irritations with popular singers, but I saved it for you.
   Rebecca already mentioned breathy (kiss me, baby!) singing. I’ll add: growling, whining, moaning, groaning, panting, yelling, screaming, and any other vocal affectation. Please — sing with the voice God gave you. It might not be a great one, but trust me, it’s better than the one you’re faking.
   My most hated musical crime is poor enunciation. I’m not referring to the careless kind, although that’s bad enough. I mean the intentional kind, in which the singer pronounces words in ways he never would if he was speaking, because it’s cool. Come on, people. Get Hooked on Phonics.
   A serious offender on both counts (this is one of those “wandering mind” segments) is Bob Dylan. Some say he can’t sing, but we’ll never know; we’ve never heard him try. I’d call what he does a combination of whining and moaning. And he obviously has no respect for phonics. His fans, if any are reading this, are thinking, “Yeah, but man, can he write. He’s a brilliant lyricist.” Yeah, whatever; I’ve got some poems I wrote when I was in 7th grade and in “love” with a gorgeous 8th grade blonde that might impress you, too. I was in Montana, and she was in Bismarck, North Dakota. It was never to be . . . Sorry, I wandered a little too far, there. Sigh.

There is no male gender, nor female. Male and female are not genders; they are sexes. Gender is described as masculine or feminine.

Does my wife read every word I post? I’ll know soon. OK, Honey, if you’re reading this, when I say, “Dylan,” you say, “stinks.”

How do you pronounce evangelical? Most say “ēvangelical”; some say “ĕvangelical.” As I’ve observe who says what, I think I’ve figured it out. It’s those uppity guys with “Dr.” in front of their names who use the latter pronunciation. The rest of us are right, but will never be published.

Every time I go out, I see people, including adults, wearing sweats — in public. What is wrong with these people? It really is a sign of societal decay when people are more concerned with being comfortable than presentable. For my part, if I meet you in a public place (not a gym or a jogging path), and you are wearing sweats, I’ll assume you can’t be trusted with serious responsibility. After all, you didn’t even manage to get dressed before leaving the house. No wonder your kid can’t wear his cap straight or pull up his pants.

Sometimes I don’t understand my wife. The other day, she told me a story that was supposed to be funny, about a Norwegian who, overcome with emotion, confided in a friend: “I love my wife so much, I almost told her.” What’s funny about that? I thought it was touching.

This is just an odd collection of stuff: some serious, some interesting, some weird, some fun, and some a combination of more than one of those.

Canadian parental rights are under attack here and here.

Freedom of speech is no longer free in France and Canada.

“Church Possibly Dates to Earliest Years of Christianity.” Missing the point entirely, my first reaction was, “Well, duh!”

Do you know where your feet are?

If your intended has already buried four husbands, you might want to reconsider becoming number five.

I went out for basketball in 7th grade. I cold barely walk and dribble at the same time. I hate this guy.

I was much better at stuff like this.

I suppose this makes me a fad-following nerd, but here it is: the Thirsty Theologian “Wordled.” Actually, it’s just last month’s archive. For some reason it wouldn’t do the front page.

But first, a message from our sponsor:

Earlier this week, a kind and astute reader informed us that our RSS feed was unable to be read by Internet Explorer. Shocked — shocked, I tell you — to hear that IE had a flaw, we popped up our own IE and investigated. Sure enough, we got the same error message that our helpful comrade had reported. So, at great personal sacrifice, I rolled up my sleeves and, as Ross Perot used to promise he would do (but never got the chance, in spite of the efforts of a certain crazy relative), got under the hood and fixed it. Now even those of you still using IE can subscribe; so hurry, do it now! Click here! Never miss a single scintillating post!

Now, back to our regularly scheduled scintillation.

Planning on buying a motorcycle? Show your wife this, but not this (pardon the “music”).

Alright, I admit it: these are kind of fun. This time, I entered the books of the Bible, the New Testament authors, and every biblical synonym, adjective, metaphor, etc. for the Word of God that I could think of, and here it is: the “Wordled” Word. As you can see, it’s black & white.

Can you think of any biblical words or phrases I could have added?

A “Wordle” of Augustine’s Confessions. Confessions was written as a prayer. Notice the focus of the prayer, as shown by the dominant words: Thy, Thou, Thee, God.

Augustine also was obviously not a fundamentalist or evangelical, as demonstrated by the absence of a great big

It ain’t exactly new, but I think he’ll like this.

During this holiday season I will not be sticking strictly to my recently-set schedule. Take today, f’rinstance (note the homey colloquialism, denoting a casual attitude). I’ve done a lot of different things on this blog. I’ve posted theology, history, rantings, and jokes. I’ve posted scripture and hymns, done a couple of mêmes, and even written a song. One thing I don’t think I’ve ever done is a recipe. It only makes sense then — don’t you agree? — that I post one now. Can’t let the bloggerbabes ladybloggers have all the fun, can I?

Lest you doubt my qualifications, let me present my extensive resumé:

To start with, I was a bit of a mad scientist in the kitchen as a child. My mother allowed me quite a bit of freedom to experiment, and taught me anything I was willing to learn; so by the time I moved out, I was not the typical helpless bachelor. Twenty-plus years later, a couple of my former roommates still fondly remember such fine things as Veal Parmigiana, chile that makes your head sweat, and fresh-squeezed lemonade. (One roommate actually had a recipe, sent by his mother, for — I jest not — scrambled eggs. Plain scrambled eggs.)

But those were amateur days. Next I took my natural talent to a professional level. After driving delivery for a time at LeeAnn Chin in Edina Minnesota, I learned to stir-fry. My Szechuan Shrimp and Beef Lo-Mein were famous for miles around, and are now a part of local legend (or if they aren’t, they ought to be). At the same time, I worked a second job at MacDonald’s, broadening my repertoire . . . well, a little.

So! Having established my credentials, and started very few fires, I move on to today’s recipe. I was inspired to do this by Thabiti, who lamented his separation from his favorite breakfasting facility. I dedicate this feast to him, and without further adieu, I give you breakfast:

David’s World Famous, Award Winning, Mouthwatering, Muscle Building, Stomach Filling, PETA Annoying

Heart Attack Eggs®

Ingredients:

• 1 dozen large eggs
• 1 pound of bacon
• 1 large Vidalia onion
• ¼ pound extra sharp cheddar cheese
  No, Velveeta will not do.
• 1 pint sour cream
  Don’t even think about substituting any of that fraudulent non-dairy slime.

Preparation:

• Crack eggs into a bowl
• Cut bacon into 1 inch pieces
• Chop onion
• Grate cheese

Fry ’em up:

• I like to use a wok, but a large cast iron skillet works as well.
• Fry the bacon and onion (add a chopped red bell pepper, if you like) together until the bacon is crispy and the onions are well cooked. Do not drain.
• Dump in the eggs and scramble. Let the eggs get well cooked.
• Toss in the cheese and mix.
• Dump in the sour cream. Yes, all of it. Stir it in. This will make it kind of sloppy, but be patient. Keep stirring it uncovered on the heat until it cooks down to the desired consistency.

Serve with whole wheat toast generously plastered with real butter. Don’t you dare use margarine. Hash browns are a good substitute for, or addition to, the toast. Accepted condiments are anything you like. The point is to enjoy it. I like ketchup (not, for pete’s sake, catsup) and Tabasco sauce. Fobidden condiments are anything that says “substitute” or “low _____” on the label. Pour up a big glass of tomato juice, or, if it’s at least lunch time and the Baptists aren’t looking, a Bloody Mary.

Serves one. Ah say, ah say, that’s a joke, son. Usually.