You’re sitting at a dinner table and the conversation takes a left at Albuquerque when you know it should’ve gone right. The person across from you notices that you ordered the Grilled Chicken and a shadow darkened their normally bright face. With your fork poised to insert a juicy piece of said chicken into your mouth you feel it necessary to ask your table mate what’s wrong. Their answer is as follows: “Christians can’t eat chicken. To be a true believer, one must not eat chicken.” What do you do with that? Do you let it slide as a moral issue that falls under the purview of liberty and bearing with weakness of the weak or not?
Category: apologetics
Begging Which Question?
Once upon a time, folk would stand in a circle, before an audience, and debate things. No, not Jerry Springer. I’m talking about the Old Days before TV. To establish the grounds for the debate the two folk arguing would first state what they’re arguing for (or against) and then proceed with given statements.
The point they were arguing for (or against) was called The Question. Each of the givens would be the premises which the debater would use as a starting point for his argument.
Calvinism Illustrated
Patton wasn’t using the following so much as an argument but as a retelling of his own theological journey. What’s interesting about the story is that it offered several reasons of how people Know what they Know. I mean, Unconditional Election wasn’t proved point by point for Michael (at least not according to that post) but it was illustrated in a very compelling manner. Likewise, at twelve his mind was influenced by a specific interpretation by his mother, so psychologically speaking you can see where something like that would become important.
But I did want to post a counter illustration because the one Boice used (in Michael’s post) wound up being one of those stories that preachers (and professors) love to use that doesn’t prove anything. It’s an appeal to emotion by using unbalanced data and an unserviceable hypothetical.
Here’s my version based heavily on Boice’s:
by Tim Keller & David Powlison (HT: Justin Taylor via Jollyblogger)
One obvious genius of the internet is that it’s “viral.” Information explodes to the whole world. The old neighborhood grapevine and the postal service seem like ox-carts in a speed-of-light universe. (Do twenty-somethings even know what those antiquities once were? In the old days, people had to talk to each other or stick a stamp on an envelope.) Instantaneous transmission produces some wonderfully good things. Truth, like joy, is infectious. A great idea feeds into a million inboxes. But it also produces some disastrous evils. Lies, rumors, and disinformation travel just as far and just as fast.
Back in Junior High, I’d go to school wearing my khaki pants. Folk would snort behind open hands. Eyes would laugh. Mouths would spew names. After all, who wore khakis in the 80’s? That was the time of two tone denim jeans, of acid wash and of neon.
Stupidly enough (and probably why I got chased a lot), in my annoyance, I sometimes spoke back.