Last night at chapel, I was listening to the brother expound on the resurrection of Christ and the appearance to Mary. The preaching sparked a thought that I had had in the past (and of course, which has been discussed to death in commentaries) but I wanted to put down some views on paper. Why did Christ tell Mary not to touch Him when later on in John 20 He’s telling Thomas to touch Him?
She could see the threatening glow gathering above the flat horizon in the East. The Hammer was rising.
Everyone else in the village had hidden themselves away- just as The Boundaries stipulated. The young mother was trying, but raising two young children alone was not easy, and getting them to move without violating the writings seemed impossible. They were always in danger of transgressing, and so, often in danger of dying. Every morning’s Heatrise was one of those times.
“Come on. Come on… but don’t hurry. Don’t….,” her voice grew loud in exasperation, but she caught herself and glanced around. Little children wanted to run. It seemed a perverse joke to give them desires that would only kill them.
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:
The Christian Carnival is up at Brain Cramps for God. I didn’t submit anything because I was fighting Trojans.
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.