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Jan 04, 2008

L.B.: Imperio

Left Behind, pp. 384-387

Buck sat without interrupting as this most lucid and earnest professional calmly propounded a theory that only three weeks before Buck would have found absurd.

We're being given Buck's point of view here, a window into his thoughts, so this choice of words is apparently his: a "most lucid and earnest professional calmly propounding a theory." Indubitably, my good man. Suddenly Buck Williams has turned into Bertie Wooster.

Buck seems unduly impressed with Rayford's after-the-fact prediction of the Rapture. This theory might certainly have sounded absurdly audacious if he'd made the claim three weeks earlier, but a week after the Event it's not terribly impressive. Much of Left Behind is a variation on the self-congratulatory, question-begging Visitor from the Future* schtick. It works even less well here, with Rayford playing the role of an oracular time traveler from the very recent past.

Buck, however, finds this ex post facto prophecy immensely compelling:

It sounded like things he had heard in church and from friends, but this guy had chapter and verse from the Bible to back it up. And this business of the two preachers in Jerusalem representing two witnesses predicted in the book of Revelation? Buck was aghast.

The assumption here is that "chapter and verse from the Bible to back it up" provides an irrefutable, indisputable trump card. The confusion here is not unique to LaHaye and Jenkins -- it's a common notion among American evangelicals.

II Timothy 3:16 sums up what we evangelicals believe about the Bible: "All scripture is given by inspiration of God." But evangelicals rarely cite this passage as a mere statement or summary of what they believe. They cite it, rather, as though it were proof and validation of that belief. (See also II Peter 1:21, Psalm 119, etc.) Every word in the Bible is true. How do we know? Because it says so right here in the Bible and every word in the Bible is true.

This circular reasoning can seem to make sense if you've spent most of your life within a subcultural bubble in which everyone else shares your premises and conclusions and your inability to distinguish between the two. The trouble arises when they venture outside of the bubble and encounter others who do not share the same preconceptions about the self-evident authority of this particular holy book. Those others won't be convinced by the self-affirming recitation of II Timothy 3:16, and the evangelical innocents abroad aren't equipped to do much more than repeat the assertion. Second verse, same as the first ...

That's part of what we're seeing here in LB. It's not that the authors don't agree with or understand those who don't share their assumptions about the inherent, undeniable authority of citing "chapter and verse from the Bible." It's more than that. The authors can't even imagine that such people exist. Thus we have the supposedly secular and skeptical Buck Williams shaken to his core by something he has no reason to find impressive, persuasive or even relevant.

Try to imagine what it would mean if the world were like this -- if, as the authors imagine, everyone inherently recognized the teaching of the KJV Bible as an unchallenged and unchallengeable authority. In such a world there would only be atheists or pantheists or Buddhists or Hindus because all of those people simply didn't yet realize that the Bible told them not to be atheists, pantheists, Buddhists or Hindus. It follows that if any such person were to be confronted with "chapter and verse" explaining this to them, they would be forced to concede the point and would convert without hesitation. LaHaye and Jenkins probably wouldn't agree with the idea expressed in such stark terms, but something very much like this seems to infuse the prophecy-evangelism scenes in this book. The same notion also seems to lurk behind much of the mass media "proclamation evangelism" conducted here in America.**

The other idea that seems to be at work here in LB is a variation on the magical/spellcasting spirituality we've seen elsewhere in the book. The incantation of chapter and verse, the authors seem to believe, invokes mystic power. This idea is prevalent in a lot of the "spiritual warfare" talk popular among the charismatic strands of evangelicalism. The spiritual warfare gurus love to cite the story of Jesus' temptation in the wilderness as though it were an introductory course in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The salient point of the story, for them, is not its profound contrast of love and power, but rather its demonstration of mystical defensive techniques. A magic trick. When tempted by Satan, Jesus quoted scripture. Thus, they believe, when confronted by the forces of darkness, Christians should follow suit by raising their wands and chanting "Expecto patronus!" ... er, I mean, by citing chapter and verse from the Bible to invoke divine protection.

This chapter-and-verse invocation of mystical power is implicit in the way Rayford casts a spell over Buck here. It's made much more explicit later in the book, when Buck's newfound holy mojo serves as a literal counter-enchantment to Nicolae's sorcery.

"Enchantment" isn't too strong a word for the head-spinning awe Jenkins describes as Buck's reaction to Rayford's sales pitch:

Buck was desperate to maintain his composure. He wasn't sure what he was hearing, but Steele was impressive. ... What else would give Buck this constant case of the chills?

Buck focused on Captain Steele, his pulse racing, looking neither right nor left. He could not move. He was certain the women could hear his crashing heart. ...

Phew. Is it getting hot in here or is it just Buck? This is all intended as a description of Buck's spiritual anxiety, but if he's about to drop to his knees it doesn't seem like it would be for prayer.

We get a great deal more of Buck's insistence that Steele's spiel is "impressive" and "profound and convincing," yet as usual we hear almost nothing of his actual words. The longest speech here comes from Buck -- just after we're told how he sat "without interrupting" and just before we're told he was "speechless" he rattles off some more exposition from the End Times Checklist:

"Have you heard the latest?" Buck told him what he had seen on CNN during his few brief minutes at his apartment. "Apparently thousands are making some sort of a pilgrimage to the Wailing Wall. They're lined up for miles, trying to get in and hear the preaching. Many are converting and going out themselves to preach. The authorities seem powerless to keep them out, despite the opposition of the Orthodox Jews. Anyone who comes against the preachers is struck dumb or paralyzed, and many of the old orthodox guard are joining forces with the preachers."

"Amazing," the pilot responded. "But even more amazing, it was all predicted in the Bible."

While this is a bit more impressive than the initial story of the trip-and-die guys, it still doesn't qualify as "amazing." (When are the prophets going to breathe fire? We were promised fire-breathing.) "Religious dispute in Jerusalem," isn't front-page news now, let alone something that would knock The Event out of the No. 1 spot in the news cycle a mere eight days later. The Event would have reset the scale for what survivors would consider amazing. Post-Event, video of Elvis and Bigfoot riding the Loch Ness Monster bareback would scarcely qualify as "remarkable." "Amazing" would be reserved for something huge, something earth-shattering -- like, for instance, if CNN had been reporting that they had found a child, a 4 year old, in an abandoned house somewhere in upstate New York. That would be amazing. That would have people gathering around television sets, hanging on the reporter's every word. Post-Event, a lethally successful membership drive by Jews for Jesus might register as "notable," but not amazing.

Despite Buck's palpitations, when we switch back to Rayford's point of view, we find that he's convinced his sales pitch is falling flat:

Rayford was certain he was not getting through. ... It was clear that Williams wasn't buying it personally. If Rayford had to guess, he'd say Williams was trying to hide a smirk ...

It's just like Rashomon. Or at least just like Rashomon if, instead of showing us the different versions of the story, Kurosawa had just told us about how they made the various characters feel.

The point here is a reminder that we may not always be aware of how the Holy Spirit is at work in what we say and do. This is a common point in sermons on the duty of evangelism, so it's not surprising to see the authors emphasizing thispoint here in what they are trying to pretend is a scene about evangelism. The authors follow so many of the conventions of such sermons in all of these pseudo-evangelistic scenes, creating such an air of familiarity for their evangelical readers that it's easy for those readers to miss what's really going on in these scenes with Rayford and Hattie or Rayford and Buck. It's not evangelism.

The authors seem to be trying to obscure this point. They follow all the conventions of evangelism stories and sermons, as though Rayford were setting out to share the gospel. But he never does. He never attempts or intends to. Rayford's message for Hattie and Buck and everyone else is not the Christian gospel. His message is never "God loves you," or "Your sins are forgiven," or even "You're going to Hell unless you pray this magical prayer." His message has nothing to do with sin, forgiveness or eternal life. It has nothing to do with Jesus Christ, whom Rayford never mentions. His message is exclusively this: "My interpretation of prophecy is true."

You've doubtless witnessed the outcry and indignation that ensues when American evangelicals become convinced that someone is threatening to "take the Christ out of Christmas." Yet here LaHaye and Jenkins have completely removed Christ from the gospel of Christ and no one seems to have even noticed.

Of all the dismaying aspects of these books' runaway popularity among evangelicals, this might be the most surprising.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

* The time traveler turned with great sadness. "If only," he said, "if only you had listened to the author of this story and done everything he advised when you had the chance." And then he was gone, returned to that doomed and tragic future from whence he came. ... That sort of thing.

** The expectation seems to be that hearers will respond to such proclamations of the gospel the same way that the Karen people of Burma did when Adoniram Judson arrived. The Karen had a legend that one day their white brother would come from across the sea with the golden book that would teach them the way to salvation. "About time you got here," they said when Judson showed up. "Now let's get on with the mass conversions already." This turns out not to be the typical response when missionaries arrive.

Comments

Wooo! I'm first! Thank you Fred - first-time poster, long-time reader. I wish you were published - I'd buy your stuff.

Ummm, it's Expecto Patronum...

*goes back to read rest of post*

Buck focused on Captain Steele, his pulse racing, looking neither right nor left. He could not move. He was certain the women could hear his crashing heart. ...

Would those be the same women who are currently inexplicably gone for half an hour gossiping/powdering their noses/having a Bible study/sitting two tables over unnoticed and giggling/making out in a corner of the lobby somewhere?

The point here is a reminder that we may not always be aware of how the Holy Spirit is at work in what we say and do. This is a common point in sermons on the duty of evangelism, so it's not surprising to see the authors emphasizing thispoint here in what they are trying to pretend is a scene about evangelism.

Gaah. This whole idea gives me the shudders.

I can't describe how much I loathe all of those old messages. "You have to do it. You probably won't like it or know why, but if you don't do it you're up a creek and Geebus won't love you any more..."

Good ol' expectations of failure to keep the congregation in line.

Ummm, it's Expecto Patronum...

Oh, so now you're a Latin Grammar Nazi, too?

Every word in the Bible is true. How do we know? Because it says so right here in the Bible and every word in the Bible is true.

I'm shocked to hear a Christian point out that logical flaw, even a liberal Christian like Fred. The only other people I've heard cite that flaw have been atheists or agnostics.

I'm shocked to hear a Christian point out that logical flaw, even a liberal Christian like Fred. The only other people I've heard cite that flaw have been atheists or agnostics.

I remember my parish priest telling me straight out when I was a kid: "The Bible is not a history book."

Of course, the current Pontiff may take issue with that notion...

Ummm, it's Expecto Patronum...

----Oh, so now you're a Latin Grammar Nazi, too?

No, a J.K. Rowling one.

I'm shocked to hear a Christian point out that logical flaw, even a liberal Christian like Fred.

I got in to the habit of pointing that sort of thing out before I gave up on the whole fundie thing. That and my general historian's insistence that if it wasn't written down it didn't happen and if only one source recorded it, then it probably didn't happen that way started to get me in trouble.

Of course, we see where that's gotten me...

That said, I believe it is possible to remain a Christian while acknowledging that there's a massive inherent logical flaw in calling the Bible completely true. I tried walking the line for a bit and I just don't seem to be able to do it.

No, a J.K. Rowling one.

Ah. Got the original refernce, but never having actually read anything even remotely Harry Potter-like I didn't get the nitpick...

Of course, the current Pontiff may take issue with that notion...

Not likely, he's fully aware that the books Catholics included in the Bible are the ones that were felt to contain enough 'truthiness' to be part of the Canon.

Geds, I'm so much of a geek I almost went off for Latin reference materials just now to see if Rowling got her Latin right...

Yet here LaHaye and Jenkins have completely removed Christ from the gospel of Christ and no one seems to have even noticed.

So much of religion these days seems to be not about anyone's faiths, but about increasing their poll numbers (and thus their power base) voluntarily or otherwise.

Not, "God said we should all do this, and it seems like an excellent idea," but, "Our Religion says to do this. Because we said so. Oh, yeah, I think God did too, in some verse somewhere."

I'm shocked to hear a Christian point out that logical flaw, even a liberal Christian like Fred. The only other people I've heard cite that flaw have been atheists or agnostics.

Ha. I had a pastor once who caught a very similar logical flaw. "How do you know Jesus was God?" "Because the Bible tells us." "Well, how do you know the Bible is true?" "Because Jesus says it is." (Come to think of it, while I remember Jesus affirming the validity of the Law, I can't remember any affirmations of the verity of Scripture.) Anyway, this pastor was fed up with the question-begging logic and gave us the definitive answer to how we know Jesus was God: "Because [Jesus] rose from the dead."

Even at the age of 12, a militant Biblical literalist and young-earther and all associated, that bothered me terribly. Then again, maybe that's when I started questioning the logic of that kind of belief.

It's a curious thing: Christians who try to convert you seem to do it on the assumption that you've never heard of the Bible or Jesus before. Every time somebody's tried to hard-sell me, the preamble is always, 'Can we tell you what we believe?' Usually, you know what they believe already, you just might not agree with any or all of it - but it's said as if the only reason you aren't at their church is that you don't know what goes on there, and that if you did, you'd convert on the spot. 'Let me get this right? You mean Christians believe Jesus was the son of God? Wow, I thought you all worshipped a big green poodle! This changes everything!'

It assumes a tremendous amount of ignorance on the part of every non-Christian in the world, but I wonder if there is, at base, either a sense of fear or charity. The fearful explanation would be: they must not know what we believe, because our beliefs are unquestionable - it would be too scary to think that anyone could hear the same evidence I've heard and come to a different conclusion! The charitable one would be: I shouldn't judge them, they just don't know any better.

Or maybe it's just a conversation-starter.

I personally have the suspicion that the fear explanation is a strong part of it. If you spend your life dwelling on the absolute truth of beliefs that are purely based on the assertion of an authority, and you can't separate 'faith' from 'absolute proven conviction', the idea of questioning that authority has to be pushed right out of your awareness if you aren't going to explode.

On the other hand, what else are you supposed to say? The people who have impressed me with Christianity most are the ones who seem filled with light and love and show it in how they behave - but that takes time, and can't be fitted into a pre-prepared speech.

On the Time Traveler From The Future...

The worst one I ever read was by Dan Simmons. It was about how weak Europe allows Muslims to settle in her lands, and they take over and rename it to Eurabia and so on.

http://www.dansimmons.com/news/message/2006_04.htm

And the worst part is that when he's not in ARABS ARE COMING mode, Dan Simmons is an extremely talented writer.

Geds, I'm so much of a geek I almost went off for Latin reference materials just now to see if Rowling got her Latin right...

I believe that it's supposed to be a "language of magic with powerfully Latin roots," which lets her out from any mangling she feels like performing :)

Of course, I'm waiting for the New International Version of Charms and Incantations for the Aspiring Wizard before I accept Rowling's version as Gospel. ;)

Not likely, he's fully aware that the books Catholics included in the Bible are the ones that were felt to contain enough 'truthiness' to be part of the Canon.

That's as may be, but he also seems to have this certain nostalgia for the thirteenth century that gives me the willies.

That said, I believe it is possible to remain a Christian while acknowledging that there's a massive inherent logical flaw in calling the Bible completely true.

I agree. Some atheists I've encountered insist that all Christians believe that the Bible is the Word of God. That stance doesn't take into account the variations I've encountered. Would it be correct to say that non-literalists generally see the Bible as divinely inspired, while the literalists generally believe that God took possession of the authors' writing hands? Or is it more complicated than that?

but it's said as if the only reason you aren't at their church is that you don't know what goes on there, and that if you did, you'd convert on the spot. 'Let me get this right? You mean Christians believe Jesus was the son of God? Wow, I thought you all worshipped a big green poodle! This changes everything!'

Make the poodle pink and my daughters might want to join...

True story - on Christmas Day last week, Jehovah’s Witnesses came canvassing in our neighborhood during the morning. (They didn't identify themselves, but they were carrying copies of The Watchtower.) After they left I wondered why they wouldn’t be going to church services or spending the day with their families.

Ok, so what's the scriptural equivalent of Avada Kedavra?

Seriously - the magic spell analogy is an excellent summary of how folks of this theological ilk view the Bible. Every once in a while, I forget that I go to church with lots of such people - then I'll have a conversation with someone about something I've found troubling, and the response will be "Oh, well it says in Isaiah..." as if that solved the problem definitively as if it had been written directly to me. Eesh.

Fred, you're a great gift to frustrated intellectual (or faux intellectual) Evangelicals (or faux Evangelicals).

I'm shocked to hear a Christian point out that logical flaw, even a liberal Christian like Fred. The only other people I've heard cite that flaw have been atheists or agnostics.

Any Christian who's ever done serious study of philosophy (ie - reading anything other Francis Schaffer) would immediately be confronted by a host of questions about authority & establishment of intellectual foundations. Any honest Christian thinker would have to acknowledge this, unless they're dealing with people who read LB as if it were good literature.

A few years ago, when both my parents and the in-laws were staying with us for the holidays, I overheard my dad and my FIL talking about religion, and my father said, "Jesus is the most important thing in my life." (He might have said person, I'm not sure.) Not, "my belief in Jesus," but Jesus himself. This struck me as very unlikely at the time, and even more absurd the more thought I give it. For one thing, my father has always been a lot more interested in Lahaye-style prophesizing than the actual Gospels. When I was a kid, we used to take long road trips, and often he'd bring along 12-tape sets on the prophecies of Daniel, for instance. His bookshelves are full of books on Revelation, and books by Hal Lindsey and Lahaye (stuff he buys at flea markets for a buck). He doesn't have too many flea market books on Jesus, and as far as I can tell, the only thing about Jesus that's particularly important to my father is telling himself how important he is.

That doesn't seem to be too far off from what's going on in LB.

Anyway, this pastor was fed up with the question-begging logic and gave us the definitive answer to how we know Jesus was God: "Because [Jesus] rose from the dead."

Pfft. That doesn't prove Jesus is the Son of God. It just means that Jesus is a zombie. Or possibly a vampire.

The sad thing is, Jesus said a lot of really, really cool stuff. You don't need to back up 'love thy neighbour' and 'judge not' and 'be charitable' and 'don't use prayer to boast' and 'look for the beam in your eye' and all those other things by saying, 'Believe them because the Circular Argument says they're true!' The message is pretty darn impressive on its own.

All that banging on about the truthfulness of it sounds more like you're interested in being right than in what you're right about. 'This is true and I'm right, this is true and I'm right, love thy neighbour this is true and I'm right and anybody who disagrees with me is EVIL!' It's not very convincing.

The website Making Light quotes this comment: “The United States behaves like a salesman with a fantastic product who tries to force people to buy it at gunpoint.” (Emma of Late Night Thoughts). This kind of evangelism seems to be taking a similar line. At least at the starting point, who cares whether it's literally true that the guy who said this stuff was born in Nazareth and said this particular thing and two o'clock in the afternoon, and that's a Historical Fact? Lead with the good stuff, and you'll probably get people's attention without having to beat them over the head about why they should believe you. They might just believe you because they decide it sounds true on their own - though of course, that lets in the possibility of freedom of thought...

It's a shame. So many groovy bits of the Bible to talk about, and Rayford has to pick the pratfall.

What else would give Buck this constant case of the chills?

Sitting under the air conditioning vent as the restaurant's AC is going full blast?

Your comment about finding an abandoned child made me think of the scene in Children of Men where Clive Owen walks through the firefight with a baby and everyone simply stops shooting and stares in awe. L&J couldn't summon one tenth that kind of power--but we knew that already.

The other idea that seems to be at work here in LB is a variation on the magical/spellcasting spirituality we've seen elsewhere in the book. The incantation of chapter and verse, the authors seem to believe, invokes mystic power. This idea is prevalent in a lot of the "spiritual warfare" talk popular among the charismatic strands of evangelicalism.

I call it "Bible as Grimoire". Back when my head was getting seriously messed up by The Gospel According to Hal Lindsay, I was told because I hadn't said The Magick Words in the exact word-for-word phrasing the current "Witness" was trying to get me to say, I Wasn't Really Saved (TM). Apparently you had to use the One True Wording of the spell.

Internet Monk calls "spiritual warfare" types "guys who make me think I stepped into a bad Star Wars prequel" and Totem to Temple gets even nastier with some really stupid RL examples. I call 'em Masters of Mighty Magick wannabes, and prefer Witchfinder General to Star Wars as type example.

Have you ever noticed a lot of "spiritual warfare" types have such a small and puny God? If God (whom they have this direct line to) were as big as they claim, why are they always running around in circles screaming about The Devil hiding under every bed? Why the pee-your-pants terror of Satan hiding behind every bush?

Apsalar, I have to ask you - where is your nickname from? I think I might know, but I'd like you to confirm it.

The worst one I ever read was by Dan Simmons. It was about how weak Europe allows Muslims to settle in her lands, and they take over and rename it to Eurabia and so on.

Yeah, someone linked to that before, so that's probably what Fred had in mind.

on Christmas Day last week, Jehovah’s Witnesses came canvassing in our neighborhood during the morning. (They didn't identify themselves, but they were carrying copies of The Watchtower.) After they left I wondered why they wouldn’t be going to church services or spending the day with their families.

Probably because they were under the impression they'd be damned if they did. I gather that Jehovah's Witnesses have a two-tier system, the automatically-saved at the top, and the 'Other Sheep' who have to canvass non-stop if they want the slightest chance of salvation. Those poor guys must have been Other Sheep.

Also I don't think JWs are allowed to celebrate holidays. Perhaps it was a way of making sure they felt their difference as much as possible, and putting them out of the way of temptation just in case they felt like roasting a turkey while they were home. Poor souls.

Ever seen this? It's an hour-long documentary made, as far as I can tell, but some ex-Jehovah's Witnesses who've subsequently become straight Christians, exposing bad stuff that goes on and recommending Christians to reach out to JWs and try to help them. I fear I tend to just close the door on them as kindly as possible, being to agnostic to make much of a dent on their opinions myself, but if anyone feels like trying some deprogramming, it's pretty good:

http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=2183288529160546808&q=jehovah%27s+witness+cult&total=42&start=0&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=0

'Let me get this right? You mean Christians believe Jesus was the son of God? Wow, I thought you all worshipped a big green poodle! This changes everything!' -- Praline

No, they worship Young Earth Creationism and The Rapture. Don't know why those two always seem to go together, but they do.

Try to imagine what it would mean if the world were like this -- if, as the authors imagine, everyone inherently recognized the teaching of the KJV Bible as an unchallenged and unchallengeable authority. In such a world there would only be atheists or pantheists or Buddhists or Hindus because all of those people simply didn't yet realize that the Bible told them not to be atheists, pantheists, Buddhists or Hindus.

Actually, for many evangelicals, it seems that the reason we atheists are so pernicious is because we DO recognize the absolute truth and authority of the Bible and yet we pretend to not believe in it. We know what we're doing is wrong and untrue, but we do it out of rebellion or something, not because our beliefs are in any way actually indicative of our beliefs.

But I don't know what's worse: the attitude I cite above or your interpretation, in which I'll suddenly fall to my knees and believe just as soon as I hear this incredibly convincing and original proof of God (and/or Pascal's Wager).

Here's a thought: Wasn't Buck the one who suggested Israel's surviving a nuclear attack was some sort of divine action? Why would he then be so unprepared for Rayford's proposal?

If God (whom they have this direct line to) were as big as they claim, why are they always running around in circles screaming about The Devil hiding under every bed? Why the pee-your-pants terror of Satan hiding behind every bush?

If God is the Creator of The Universe, than by definition, Satan is one of his Own. Unless God has made a demon so big he can't lift it, God's eventual triumph at the Apocalypse should come as a surprise to no one.

Several philosophers have claimed that the Devil is a strawman, a useful tool created intentionally by God to push the Universe, in the long run, in the always-intended directions. If Satan is aware of this, no wonder he's sometimes disgruntled.

It seems to me (as a non-attending Anglican, if anything) that it is possible to believe that Jesus was the Son of God, was born of the Virgin Mary, preached, died on the Cross and rose again, but without accepting that the people who wrote about it were any more reliable narrators than anyone else back then (or now, but we have more outlets, sources etc). So there's disagreement about where and when Jesus was born? He probably never actually sat the disciples down and told them, and by the time the message got to the Gospel writers it had conflated with the story of that terrible time they had to go to be taxed, and the bad behaviour of some soldiers somewhere(Roman? Herod's? who can remember after all these years?) And that Herod really was a nutter.

And once you're back in the Old Testament territory, you're definitely into biased chronicles, tribalist spin, and recording laws, myths and religious songs - all of which other cultures do in just the same inaccurate way.

It might mean that you can't rely on the Bible to be ahsolutely true, but that doesn't mean that it isn't.

Yeah, someone linked to that before, so that's probably what Fred had in mind.
They did? I must have missed it. Do you remember which discussion it was in?
(And I really thought I was going to be the first to come up with it, too...)

It's a real pity about the ARABS ARE COMING, though...Ilium and Olympos are some of the best Sci Fi you've ever read, and then suddenly they switch gears into RAAAAAWR GLOBAL ISLAMIC CALIPHATE DESTROYED WORLD WITH BOMBS.

What else would give Buck this constant case of the chills?

Sitting under the air conditioning vent as the restaurant's AC is going full blast?

Serves them right for trying to bribe the waiter; the maitre d must have spotted them as troublemakers when they came in and put them at a table they'd want to vacate as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, Rayford evidently pushed junior Bucky into the chilly chair, and he's just going to have to shiver till Rayford decides that it's time to make another phone call.

Patronus charm: I checked here, mainly because I can't find my old college Wheelock, but it appears that 'patronus' is either second or forth declension and that Rowling got it correct. Thanks, cmjr, being both a Latin geek and a Rowling geek (the first geekiness strongly encouraged the second) I was going to point that one out.

On the Biblical authority thing, the best sermon I ever heard in my life was by the preacher my church had when I was in high school. The title was "Bibliolatry," and points out that Christians are to worship God and respect the Bible, not the other way 'round. Christians believe the Bible contains God's word, not that it is an official transcript of God's deposition in Creator of the Universe v. Satan . I still remember J. Carter Paul's words, "When God writes, He has to use broken pens," meaning that no human can ever understand fully what God is trying to say, so we always get it at least incomplete. That sermon, by itself, kept me in the church for years when sleeping in on Sunday seemed like a much better idea.

my father has always been a lot more interested in Lahaye-style prophesizing than the actual Gospels. When I was a kid, we used to take long road trips, and often he'd bring along 12-tape sets on the prophecies of Daniel, for instance. His bookshelves are full of books on Revelation, and books by Hal Lindsey and Lahaye (stuff he buys at flea markets for a buck). He doesn't have too many flea market books on Jesus, and as far as I can tell, the only thing about Jesus that's particularly important to my father is telling himself how important he is.

Any thoughts on what produces that mindset? Stephen King's "The Dead Zone" implies that it's a simple inability to deal with emotional trauma - during John Smith's coma, his religious yet earthy mother gradually descends into Hal Lindseyland. At one point she is convinced that the Rapture will involve spaceships rescuing the elect.

When I was about 14, I read a copy of "The United States and Great Britain in Prophecy" that I had found in my grandparents' house. I had never spoken to them about religion, although I knew that their background was Presbyterian. I don't know if my grandparents believed the nonsense in the book, which claimed that the English-speaking peoples were the descendants of the ten lost tribes of Israel.

The time traveler turned with great sadness. "If only," he said, "if only you had listened to the author of this story and done everything he advised when you had the chance." And then he was gone, returned to that doomed and tragic future from whence he came.

That IS a standard trope of Dystopian fiction, a descendant of the Cautionary Fable.

Given that sub-genre, the Dan Simmons story cited does an excellent job of it.

P.S. Ever noticed you can tell what's REALLY worrying a culture at a certain time period if you look at their Dystopian fiction? From Nuclear Wars to Cyberpunk to Global Warming, dystopian futures show and tell the REAL worries of a zeitgeist. (Or at least of the author within that zeitgeist.)

It might mean that you can't rely on the Bible to be ahsolutely true, but that doesn't mean that it isn't.

That statement's pretty close to Russell's Teapot. If we can't verify that it's true by other means, than its truth is a matter of faith. (It may be 100% totally accurately true. In a world of mistranslations, editors, and people willing to lie to serve their own ends, how can we know this?)

It sounded like things he had heard in church and from friends, but this guy had chapter and verse from the Bible to back it up. And this business of the two preachers in Jerusalem representing two witnesses predicted in the book of Revelation? Buck was aghast.

I;m visualizing this with all the glory of Chick tract artwork. :-)


Praline,

Props to you for picking up my post and running further with it than I could. The old "Stick 'em under the AC vent" trick, eh? :^)

I'm shocked, SHOCKED to find that believing in the Bible is a matter of faith!

Anyone else have a Casablanca moment just now?

Pfft. That doesn't prove Jesus is the Son of God. It just means that Jesus is a zombie. Or possibly a vampire.

Sam Kinison did a routine where he had the Apostles reacting like the people in George Romero movies.

"Apparently thousands are making some sort of a pilgrimage to the Wailing Wall. They're lined up for miles, trying to get in and hear the preaching."

If I remember right, the last time we saw the two preachers they're "preaching" consisted of reapeating the same few phrases over and over again, mostly variations on "Jesus is Lord." Even in a world traumatized by The Event, it would probably take a little more to set off a wave of conversions. I guess you have to give LHJ some credit for consistency, as this is just another example of the spellcasting theme at work. It makes me wonder what a LHJ-penned version of Harry Potter would look like? Somehow I imagine the Unforgivable Curses being quotes from the UN charter.

On another note, I think the emphasis on the "two preachers" shows an amazing lack of imagination on the part of the authors. Isn't the Tribulation a time of false prophets? Well, where are they? You'd think the globe would be seething with mass conversions to strange cults. (I wouldn't be surprised, though, if the authors retconned some into existence in the later books.)

I think one of the problems with the End Times Prophecy is that it doesn't scale well. 2000 years ago, this imagery would have been mind bending, as most people never left the village they were born in or at best the region. You were considered a worldly traveler if you had been all the way to Rome(!) So, talk of fire breathing fakirs and dragons and brazen women was wild stuff, when compared to your daily routine of herding goats and sweeping the dust out of the corners of your shack. Today though, we have video games that present more interesting and dramatic imagery. It's not uncommon for people you know or even yourself to take vacations in Prague, Rio or Beijing. Many poeple think, "Rome is nice but, really I saw the old Katherine Hepburn movie, Roman Holiday and it just looks like temples and gillato carts. That's great and all and one day I'll get there but I'd rather go to Berlin or Las Vegas, maybe see the Grand Canyon first."

Your average Rube from Frogleep Indiana can log on to a computer at the local library and not only see pictures of the Great Wall of China and Kamodo Dragons, but watch videos of Japanese game show contestants and transgender Carnival floats. Hell, they show that stuff on Fox News (While decrying it as shameful and shaming you for watching it).

Compared to all this, the Book of Revelations is kind of quaint. And after everything that the people in LB have just gone through, matching it up with Bible imagery would not only be tedious but insulting as you're insinuating that your missing loved ones are merely pawns in some by-the-numbers Mesopotamian passion play.

Re Roman Holiday: Audrey Hepburn, not Katharine. 'Cause I'm a movie geek.

Sam Kinison did a routine where he had the Apostles reacting like the people in George Romero movies.

Is that the same routine where Jesus had to explain to His girlfriend where He'd been all weekend, and she didn't believe Him?

I;m visualizing this with all the glory of Chick tract artwork.

My favorite character in any Chick tract is the dude who's all, "Now hang on. When you say 'Jesus' you're talking about the what now?"

Axiomatic: yes, me too! So when are the rest of the usual suspects going to join us?
Praline: The JWs don't celebrate birthdays or civic holidays because they consider them unimportant. The don't observe Christmas because the Bible doesn't give a date for Jesus' birth and they consider Dec 25th to be a pagan holiday.
They do observe Easter, but only as the anniversary of Jesus' death and resurrection. The Bible gives a date for the Crucifixion, so they don't consider it pagan.

Axiomatic: It's from the Malazan books by Steven Erikson.

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