Good grief, people. Mormons and the rest of orthodox (technical, not denominational term) are at complete odds on core Theology, Christology, and Soteriology. If you don’t know what those words mean, please don’t act like an authority on the subject. You only expose your lack of knowledge and affirm your ecumenical liberality.
That being said, Mormons are unquestionably conservative and hold to a religion that holds one accountable for their immoral actions. And whether or not they ARE Christian, they CLAIM to be, so that places a target on them. Because of this, all of us are in the same peanut gallery, and more and more shooters are coming to the carnival to play.
The recent shooting at the Mormon church is a tragedy because every human being has a soul, and each one is created in the image of God and is intrinsically infinitely valuable. You just don’t kill people because you hate them. Period.
But there is a growing worldwide spiritual conflict between those who believe hate justifies violence and those of any faith that preaches meekness in any form. The Christian world is NOT WEAK! We are meek. There is a difference. Should we rise up as militants do from other groups and defend ourselves, the cowardly jihadists of the world would either run in terror or die for their demonic causes as the untapped might of our assets were poured out upon their heads.
Remember, Jesus COULD have summoned 10,000 angels to deliver him from the Roman cross to which he was nailed. But he didn’t. When they came to Jesus in the garden to seize him, he didn’t have to allow it. For that matter, in just one humorous nod to the omnipotent power meekly restrained before them, all the soldiers fell backwards when Jesus answered, “I am.” I sometimes wonder if our Lord fought a slight grin when that happened. Those who were wise would have realized He wasn’t being arrested, but going willingly.
At the root of all evil stands the liar himself—Lucifer, Satan, the Devil. And whatever bears even a glimmer of Christ—be it His chosen nation Israel, whose unfaithfulness only magnifies God’s faithfulness, or His blood-bought church—Satan rages against it with a hatred as old as time and as fierce as hell itself. If Mormons want to be included as objects of Satan’s hate, that’s up to them.
Those who shoot children or praying adults in schools or churches, whether Christian, Mormon, or Muslim, are tools of Satan. They can clothe themselves in whatever cloak they prefer—Marine uniform, anarchist black, or Muslim hijab—the impetus for their actions is the Enemy of God. They are all the same. Our enemy is the same.
However, the fatal flaw of our enemies’ strategy is that fear and bloodshed will secure victory. They are convinced violence will void valor, deceit will destroy decency, and terror will trounce the timid. But they, just like those who supposed their chains could bind Omnipotence, are truly impotent. Their end will come. Their progeny will cease.
“Blessed are the meek, for THEY shall inherit the earth,” said Jesus. He also cried from the cross, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” The simple truth is that the proof of who is winning the war can be seen every time the victim says, “I forgive.”
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. —Ephesians 6:12
By way of update, I am still sitting in the team room/break room here in my section of the Volkswagen plant in Chattanooga, TN. For those of you who don’t know, I twisted my knee pretty badly back in June and haven’t worked a regular day since the 19th of June. All I have been allowed to do is show up and sit in the break room for 8 hours a day.
But as of next week (the 26th of August), Lord willing, all this sitting around will come to an end, and I will be back out on the body shop floor building sub floors for the VW Atlas and Crossport SUVs. My knee still hurts a little, but there’s not much more that can be done short of surgery (and that could prove more harm than good). It all depends on what the orthopedic doctor advises.
As I write this, I am sitting in a familiar place. It’s a place I’ve been to many, many times.
It’s a funeral home.
To be honest, it’s not always been a place of sadness, at least not the kind I’m feeling today. No, many times it’s been quite the opposite, for “precious in the sight of the Lord are the death of His saints” (Ps. 116:15
But today is different.
Today I’m attending a “celebration of life” for a man I worked with. It’s a service of remembrance to celebrate the life and legacy of a well-loved individual. But nothing has ever been said about faith, not ever and not up until now.
So what about the next life?
The first song playing is “When I Get Where I’m Going.” It’s quite a sentimental piece that assures the listener that where the lost loved one is going will be wonderful. It’s got theological problems, but that a different issue.
But now there is a preacher speaking, and so far he’s speaking truth! That’s encouraging! What’s the outline? “Stand on the Truth That…”
God is Good
God Loves Us
God Will Help You
Amen, brother! That was certainly unexpected! A solid gospel message was delivered! I’m gonna find out who that preacher is and thank him for being so bold! (I did)
The last song now playing is “Go Rest High On the Mountain.” (Please, if you respect my wishes, threaten to hang anyone who suggests that song for my funeral.)
But where’s the real assurance that will happen? God only knows the heart of a man. The only guaranteed prescription for hope after this life is faith in the Person of Jesus Christ.
Was there faith? There could have been. Possibly. Nothing definite. No testimony to draw from and no mention of anything remotely religious in his life. Only God knows.
And that’s why there’s nothing for me to celebrate, only mourn. Not only is a decent man gone, but that’s it. Nothing else. No hope of eternity, only wishful thinking wrapped up in pseudo-religious country music.
You all know the old saying, “If it looks like a duck, etc…it is a duck,” don’t you? When we see something that looks and acts like another something with which we are already very familiar, the most logical explanation for the similarity is to initially assume is that the two somethings are, in fact, alike. They don’t have to be exactly alike to be of the same something, just like a ball is a ball regardless of the size, texture, or chemical makeup. Even my 2 year-old granddaughter, based on her short life experience, is not wrong when she notices a spherical object, points, and yells out, “Ball!”
We carry with us information and definitions acquired through experience, along with developed presuppositions When we observe a buzzing factory, we assume it to be a buzzing factory based on what we already know from experience about building or making things. To describe the factory, then, as something other than what is observable and recognizable as a place of production would require one of two things: either the observer has never seen or had any concept of manufacturing and assembly, or that he is being intellectually dishonest.
One would have to have never tied a shoe, prepared a meal, or completed any task requiring a process to not recognize a factory for what it is. At the very least the observer should be able to recognize the industrial process as being similar to other processes with which he is already familiar: the kind when going step-by-step makes a thing. Therefore, to observe a factory in operation and then declare that the factory, even the whole process of manufacturing, including subcontracting and logistics, is nothing more than an illusion of design and a product of chance is to throw out rationality in favor of a presumed belief.
It amazes me how that one can learn more and more about the complexities (yes, even irreducible complexities) of the human cell and still maintain random chance and time created and honed everything, from the machines down to the software in a factory which purpose is to make a thing.
It is easy to simply claim there is no Designer or Creator behind the unfathomable complexities of human existence. All one needs is the presupposition that no matter what one encounters, it is NOT what it may appear to be. If we first presuppose there is no God, then what may appear to be the result of vision and design can be waved off as only an illusion, a false equation, or the projection of a preconceived delusion acting as a coping mechanism.
However, living in a modern, industrial world, I find it hard to understand how anyone with any amount of intelligence can maintain “natural selection,” copious amounts of time, and blind chance are the architects of anything, much less the preliminary mechanisms and processes which bring about its construction.
I actually work in an automobile manufacturing plant. I have witnessed the entire process of building a Volkswagen Atlas. Even more, I have participated with my own hands in the making of these vehicles. I have been involved in the logistics of securing parts of all kinds and placing even the smallest in precise positions for robots to weld. In order for one functioning vehicle to roll off the assembly line, the things that must take place in the right way at the right moment and in the right amount are just staggering. And we are only talking about a car, not the human body and each cell!
2025 Volkswagen Atlas Peak Edition 
For just a moment, think about that 2025 VW Atlas with all the bells and whistles of a luxury SUV. Imagine it painted your favorite color as it is cranked and driven out the big bay doors toward the staging area where it will be shipped. Should you spend your $50,000 to buy one, you will expect it to perform at a certain level while maintaining its structural integrity. After all, the lives of your family and yourself will depend on it.
Now, imagine that SUV backing into the proving and detailing area once again. Then, imagine it backing up to the automated assembly line where it is once again placed on the moving floor. Keep reversing until the vehicle is completely disassembled, stripped of paint and sealer, even un-welded (if that was possible) and reduced to small stamped pieces of sheet metal that make up the body. Are we done? No.
Credit: plastonline.org
Look around at all the bins full of sheet metal parts, plastic spacers, barrels of sealant, bolts, nuts, and even the box of tiny copper tips for one of the thousand-plus $200,000-dollar robots spot-welding 24/7 according to software monitored 4,000 miles away. How did all that get there? If left alone, would a VW Atlas once again roll out the door? Even in a billion years?
Even more, consider all the things that must take place in the process of manufacturing the individual components. For every piece of that vehicle (about 5,000) there is a company, a business plan, a CEO, workers, machines that must be maintained, and materials which must be ordered and stocked. And then there are the truck drivers and the forklift drivers and the mechanics who keep those machines running and those parts on schedule.
Parts must be made according to specific tolerances. Parts must be assembled in a certain way. People have to do their assigned duties with quality, safety, and integrity. Everything must go a certain way, or else the very integrity of the vehicle could be compromised. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is unplanned and left to chance when literal lives could be at stake.
How long would it take for a brand new Volkswagen to roll off the assembly line on its own? Any answer other than “never” would be absurd. And why is that? Because nothing in the observable world testifies to this being possible. From experience and observation we have acquired enough wisdom to determine two things: first, a car doesn’t design and build itself; and second, an expertly built and functioning vehicle must not be the result of design-less, random chance.
Therefore, it is not irrational, when we observe what appears to be design and purpose, to assume there was a Designer with a plan for how the thing would function. Everywhere else in creation and everyday life we observe the natural rhythms of cause and effect. When we see a jet flying in the sky above us, we take for granted the craft was designed and built in a factory, it’s going somewhere, and that people are on it. Even when a rock hits our windshield, we know something caused the rock to leave the pavement.
It’s only the one who cannot, no matter the evidence, no matter the logic, accept that there’s a Watchmaker in the history of the watch on the shore. He asserts there is no evidence for the Watchmaker; there is nothing about the Watchmaker that he’d like should he exist; that not enough jewels were in the movement to signal true intelligence; and that though it may look like a watch and function like a watch, we don’t know for sure what we think a watch is, or whether it is actually represented in the thing on the shore.
For all we know, the supposed watch somehow came from the depths by some means not yet discovered.
“All we can know for sure,” he would say, “is that there appears to be a thing on the shore with interesting similarities to other observable things, but whatever it is, it is because it is and that’s it. To entertain any other conclusions might lead to inconvenient truths, and we can’t go there.”
All I know is that even though I’m not a biologist, I’m pretty certain I can recognize a duck when I see it.
I had a couple of good conversations with a new friend this week. It all started with me being bored out of my mind and trying not to fall asleep at work. Having worked with him a little before, and sort of expecting a little of what was to come, I decided to walk over to where I saw him standing and ask him a very, VERY open-ended question.
To paraphrase, I asked, “So, tell me something philosophical.” It was like opening a faucet, LOL! What I was not expecting was the volume of conversation. Obviously, I struck a nerve!
A Second Conversation
So, it was the next day – in the only down time I had (coincidence?) – that this young man walked over to me and started a conversation. If nothing else, he would have made my day by the way he started . . . “Based on yesterday’s conversation, I’m assuming you’re a Christian?” Let me tell you, that alone was a shot in the arm that I needed that very moment!
It was too fast-paced and in-depth to recount what was talked about, but there was one thing my new friend said that made me smile. He prefaced a statement he was about to make with, “I don’t want to offend you…“
You Won’t Offend Me, Honestly
It’s not the first time I’ve been told that. Actually, it was just a couple of months ago that an older man who hired on the same time as I did asked what I had done for a living before coming to work at Volkswagen. When I answered that I had been a full-time pastor, he immediately returned with, “Well, I don’t want to offend you, but I don’t believe what you believe.“
How is this supposed to offend me? Why would I be offended by someone telling me he doesn’t believe the same things as me? It’s possibly because when he’s mentioned it to other believers they’ve gasped with indignation and shock. Sort of like, “Whaaat? How is that possible? You must be a bad, bad person!“
But seriously, it doesn’t offend me when someone tells me he doesn’t believe what I believe. All it does it open the door for the kind of conversation I live for!
Beware the Crack
So, to all my new and old friends out there, “offend” away! Go ahead, tell me what you believe that differs from what I believe. Seriously, I’d love to hear it! All I ask is that YOU return the favor and not get offended when I ask you questions about how you came to your conclusion.
Let me give you a little advice, however. If you want to continue being an atheist or agnostic, or whatever it is that leads you to believe I might be offended by your words, beware of the cracks that may develop in your philosophical foundation. As soon as you begin to open up to honest conversation, you risk hearing a perspective that might change YOUR mind. You risk developing a crack of doubt in your own presuppositional opinions, a crack that may allow a tiny seed of faith to sneak in and take root.
So, no, you won’t offend me; you will encourage me! All you can do is convince me that I’m in the right place at the right time, just as God ordained.
The thing about foundation cracks is that they rarely close back up; they just go deeper and wider.
How do you respond when people check up on you? Do you respond differently to different people? Do you give different answers, some more transparent than others, depending on whom you can trust?
Well, I trust you. Yes, I do. For one reason, you are actually reading this when so many others couldn’t care less. You care enough to get past the introduction.
So, how am I doing? Not well.
I think it was my wife (I can’t remember) who asked me the other day, “Are you having a mid-life crisis?” “Maybe I am,” I replied. I haven’t researched it, so I don’t know. However, I would bet that a definition would include a picture of someone that looks eerily like me.
For one thing, five decades worth of mistakes, miscalculations, stupid decisions, and squandered opportunities continually plague my memories. It’s not that I sit around and meditate on my past until I think of something depressing; they are triggered by ordinary things like a store at the mall, a movie, a song, a smell, an event, an expression, etc. I can drive down one road and be hit with 10 regrets in the span of a mile.
Secondly, there’s all the things I could have done and should have done. Have I accomplished anything? Of course. But when I am in a group of others who’ve accomplished anything similar, I feel like a fake, an imposter. I should be able to fit in, but now I never feel worthy.
I’m not a spiritual giant or anything. I’m not that great of a speaker. I have a very hard time praying. And, based on my cumulative experience, I’m a lousy pastor. Yet, that is all I’ve ever really wanted to be. I wanted to be “man of the Book,” a man with worn knees, a figure behind the pulpit my children would tell their children about.
But here I am, pushing 56 years old, a new employee in an automotive factory, with no savings, no home, a literal antique car to drive, and no real desire to pastor another church.
Simply put, I don’t know who I am anymore. For that matter, I’m not sure I ever did.
I don’t know where life is going to find me 5 or 10 years from now. However, even though I may never be a leader of anything, I can strive to be a good follower of Jesus.
Recently I saw a bumper sticker – actually, it was on the rear of the car, on the PAINT! – that stated in simple black and white, “There is no god.”
I guess, because it was meant to strike at the very core of what I believe, along with every other person with a positive view of the existence of deity, it caught my attention, so much so that I took a picture with my cell phone.
But instead of getting angry or indignant – I mean, what’s the use? – instead, I started thinking about the statement itself: there is no god.
The significance of the little “g” instead of a capital one should not be overlooked; it was certainly intentional (I am supposing…and I’m going to be generous in my assumption, here…that the creator and user of the sticker were cognizant of the theological implications). To have used a capital “G” instead of a small one would have only addressed the existence of the personal being whom we collectively refer to as “God.” Therefore, whether the God of Christianity or not, the creator and user of this sticker could not limit their four-word statement; it had to be all-inclusive. To only say that there is no God (with a capital G) could leave open the possibility that there is, still, other gods.
But this does raise at least one question that I will also assume the users of this sticker are prepared to answer. Were they actually referencing the words of the God of the Bible? Was it a brilliantly disguised doctrinal declaration? In Deuteronomy 32:39 we read:
“See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god with me: I kill, and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can deliver out of my hand.” (Emphasis added)
If so, instead of assuming the sticker “There is no god” is an atheistic statement, should we infer a pro-monotheistic, Judeo-Christian intent? I mean, words matter, right?
But a second question came to mind shortly after the first: Where’s the evidence?
You see, for the longest time, even from the Bible days, there have been those who not only question the existence of God but ask believers for evidence that supports the existence of God. “Show me the evidence” has been the first and most successful weapon in their arsenal, for it has often silenced and reduced, even intimidated believers into all they could bring to the table was a non-scientific, faith-only kind of argument. However, it shouldn’t be so!
“Where’s the evidence” should not be an exclusive question from the atheist or agnostic; believers should be quick to ask the same thing. If the sticker is meant to be a dogmatic statement, and we can only assume that it is, where is the evidence that supports such a declaration?
Now, here’s the thing: if you want to use the same condescending, arrogant, elitist response that the atheists use, whatever the sticker’s owner says, no matter what they present as evidence for their conclusion, your only reply needs to be, “Well, that’s not evidence,” or “That’s not good enough.”
What’s so funny, you see, is that there IS evidence and it’s all over the place for BOTH sides of the argument! As a matter of fact, the crazy thing is that it’s the SAME evidence! The key to the argument before the judge and jury is how the evidence is to be interpreted. For example, in a murder trial you may have a truck load of evidence such as bloody carpet, a gun, a body, fingerprints, DNA, powder residue, personal effects, and eyewitness statements. But depending on the ability and the agenda of the lawyer using the evidence, what should be a key piece that leads to conviction ends up being a parody of the whole trial. Anyone remember the bloody glove and the saying “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit”?
But then there’s another thing. Why is it that those who insist there is no god can at the same time be adamant that extraterrestrial life is a statistical necessity? Where’s the logical consistency in that?
I mean, if the universe is so infinitely huge that it is juvenile and arrogant to think we might be the only ones living in it, considering the untapped depth of research into things like quantum physics and parallel dimensions and the constantly repeated statement of “This might change all we know about da da da…,” who is more arrogant, the one who says, “Based on the preponderance of evidence, I personally conclude that there must be a Creator, for the universe, as complicated and beautiful as it is, could not have come into existence out of nothing or create itself,” or the one who can sum up all knowledge in a bumper sticker that says, “There is no god.”?
Fortunately, my wife won’t let me put stickers on our cars.
Not long ago my wife and I visited a particular church for the first time. I don’t want to tell you where it was or who did the preaching because what I’m about to write is not flattering. And should I tell you where we went, you might think what we experienced was the norm, when it might have not been.
Believe me, I know what it is like to be judged by one poorly delivered sermon. Heck, I’ve even been misjudged by an expertly delivered and totally biblical sermon! Therefore, I don’t want to disparage a pastor after hearing him only once.
However, what I expect from a preacher is rarely delivered these days. Honestly, it’s like every time a new preacher steps up to the pulpit, the voice of the Dread Pirate Roberts whispers in my ear, “Get used to disappointment.”
What I typically receive is a topical sermon based on a topical series that starts with a text and only comes back to it when mentioning the sermon title.
Sadly, what I have grown accustomed to are “how to” sermons loosely based on biblical principles but often drawn from Scripture verses taken out of context.
But what is it that I expect? Not much, just five simple things.
WHAT I EXPECT… are sermons that exegete the Holy Word of God, even without artistic and often unnecessary alliterations.
WHAT I EXPECT… is a preacher who will take the Bible, read it, explain it, then make application, not the other way around.
WHAT I EXPECT… is to be wowed and amazed by the wonderous, Holy Spirit-inspired, inerrant Word of God, not the delivery of the one tasked to preach it.
WHAT I EXPECT… is a sermon that treats passages from the Bible as revealed Scripture, not just supporting references.
WHAT I EXPECT… is nothing more and nothing less than what we read of in the book of Nehemiah. There we read of when Ezra built a “pulpit” of wood (a raised place from which to be heard) and, along with a few others, opened up the long-forgotten Law of God and read it to an attentive, standing crowd.
So they read in the book in the law of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the reading.
Nehemiah 8:8 KJV
If the above verse isn’t clear enough, the CSB renders it, “They read out of the book of the law of God, translating and giving the meaning so that the people could understand what was read.”
When you add application to the above formula, that’s when you get good preaching.
The Recovering Legalist 