There are a number of ideas and phrases that most Biblically literate Christians would swear were in the Bible, but are not. Among those is the phrase (or concept) of the âdebt of sin.â It is simply not there. Nor is there a phrase that describes sin as something that we âowe.â Again, itâs simply not there. The phrase, âthe debt of sin,â or âsin debtâ is extra-biblical. It is an ideaâŠ
That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life–the life was manifested, and we have seen, and bear witness, and declare to you that eternal life which was with the Father and was manifested to us–that which we have seen and heard we declare to you, that you alsoâŠ
There are “bogus” Scriptures out there – special “revelations” to various characters (generally self-described as “prophets” and such). They have as a hallmark, a kind of self-promotion and a carefully crafted message to “solve” various religious problems. I’ll not name names lest I wind up on someone’s hit list. I’ll let the reader fill-in the blanks. However, there is something quite striking about the writings of the Bible, both Old and NewâŠ
In On the Orthodox Faith, St. John of Damascus declares: âThe Son is the image of the Father, and the Spirit the image of the Sonâ. Such statements are easily read and passed over as among the more obvious Trinitarian statements. I add to this statement another from St. Irenaeus: “That which is invisible of the Son is the Father, and that which is visible of the Father is the Son.” OfâŠ
The friendship between CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien is well-known, as is Tolkienâs role in bringing Lewis to Christ. Less well-known (unless you dig a bit further) is Tolkienâs role in bringing Lewis out of a rigid and flat understanding of the world and into the rich possibilities afforded by âmyth.â Without this conversion, Lewis would likely not have become a Christian, and certainly would not have authored the fiction that isâŠ
It has long seemed to me that it is one thing to believe that God exists and quite another to believe that He is good. Indeed, to believe that God exists simply begs the question. That question is: Who is God, and what can be said of Him? Is He good? This goes to the heart of the proclamation of the Christian faith. We believe that God has revealed Himself definitively inâŠ
Few words can be more misleading to the modern ear than the Orthodox use of the word âmystery.â Itâs a fine New Testament word and is (technically) the proper name for the sacraments in Orthodoxy (though we most often say âsacramentâ in English). Its root meaning is that of something âhidden.â In our cultureâs language, mystery is more a matter of a who-done-it or a reference to something so puzzling or beyondâŠ
It is a commonplace in the Fathers to describe despair or sadness as the result of failing to get what we want. It sounds quite simple, but it cuts to the very heart of our sadness. There is a melancholy of our age that is born from the expectations of modernity. The mantra of progress and our belief that no matter the problems confronting us, there is always a solution, are anâŠ
In the ancient civilizations of the Near East there were strange stories about the place of chaos in the beginning of all things – and the chaos is specifically located in water. It seems odd to me that people who largely lived in arid countries should imagine the world beginning as a watery chaos â but that is certainly what they did. The Egyptians imagined the world’s beginning as a watery chaosâŠ
Recent conversations on the blog have revolved around the word “mystery” and the notion of a “literal” or “plain” meaning of the Scriptures. This reprint might be of interest. The trouble with reading Scripture is that almost everybody thinks they can do it. This idea is rooted in the assumptions of Protestant thought: only if the meaning of Scripture is fairly obvious and more or less objective can it serve as aâŠ
