In my continuing series on interactions with the church fathers via the Ancient Christian Commentary on the Scripture volume IV I have found an interesting interpretational method. When seeking a life of ease whether in ancient Christendom or modern, citing Scripture may be a supremely effective technique for getting your way. In order to accomplish this you will need to become skilled at interpretational methods overlooked by many so-called leading theologians. To complete the commercial cliché: these are methods the leading theologians don’t want you to know about. They provide great power to the self-important, and since that is what we are all about here at Theoblogian.org, I will describe one of these methods for you.

As you know, “Ice Age 2: The Meltdown” is in the theaters.  What you may not know is that yours truly is an unrepentant fan of the bug-eyed saber-toothed squirrel, Scrat.  And so, I would like to write something of a Theology of Scrat.  It may appear as merely slapstick comedy to you; but for those of us initiated into the deep esoteric Gnostic wisdom of Scrat, there is quite a bit of heady philosophy – well, alright, that’s somewhat overstated.  But be that as it may, I’d like to become a Scratologian and write Scratology (not to be confused with scatology – a messier word that doesn’t seem to be nearly so alarming to my spellchecker!).  In addition, I would like to write Scratographically (not to be confused with what I have elsewhere referred to as scatography – or the writing technique of those ideational scatologians).  And so this is the maiden voyage of the good ship Scratology.  Let’s start Scrat-Light. . . . 

Two weeks ago I wrote about the season of sorrows and changes of the season, and last week I found out that I have a 3cm lump on my thyroid. This is very treatable, and I may only lose half my thyroid. Whew! So I have nothing to worry about except the biopsy next Thursday and the surgery to remove the thing. Now I am on the prayer sheet at church, but I don’t want to need prayer. Last night I realized that I have been giving God the cold-shoulder. While I heard my name coming from various groups of praying people, my own prayer concerning this lump was reluctant, petulant and blind to God’s character.

We have seen the Church of the Grave in pictures, now we can move on to the Garden Tomb. There are not as many stories here, however. The Protestants just get along better than their Catholic/Orthodox friends in the Church of the Grave, I guess.

Sunday following our Easter dinner an unusual topic of conversation came up: congregational comments during the sermon. I don’t mean the loud “Amen!” or “Preach it!” comments. I mean the passing of notes or leaning over to your neighbor and whispering kind of comments. Strict etiquette may forbid such exchanges, but perhaps they aren’t all bad. Maybe they can even be beneficial.

I just finished an interesting book recently, so I thought I would share a few points from it. The book is entitled “The Gods of the Nations” by Daniel Block, who teaches at Wheaton (I hope to write my PhD under him at some point). The subtitle gives the content of the book: Studies in Ancient Near Eastern National Theology.

In this post I will offer my conclusion on the issue.  I knew setting out that I might not be satisfied with my findings, but I certainly enjoyed the ride.  I hope that you have enjoyed thinking about our Lord's unfinal resting place.  I look forward to your analysis of the data.

Through my grief God turned my understanding of him on its side. Before my baptism of grief, I may have said that “sin” or “his glory” was God’s bottom line. Yes. I may have considered God’s glory to be the organizing principle of God’s activity in the world and in history. I viewed God, first and foremost, as transcendent, abstracted from the world—unfamiliar with sorrow. This appears obvious to me now in the question I voiced one night in that first year after Nancy’s death. The answer I received changed my relationship with God.

How has sorrow changed you? Has it affected you r relationship with the Lord? Stiffened your resolve to serve him? Sapped your strength? Or has the effect of sorrow become a tangled mess? Perhaps it is a tangle that you have grown tired of, and now you try to live as you did before the sorrow. I am turning back to this tangle again. I have no expectation of sorting it all out, but I do wish to consider what changes have taken root and grown up in my life. Perhaps some have borne good fruit.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, though one of the most gaudy and sickening shrines, has, far and away, the most support as the location of Jesus’ burial in the literature.  Most modern scholars support the Holy Sepulchre Church as authentic, even if they wish it were not.  Since it is the favored position, we will begin with it.  This post includes the first half of my discussion on the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

In the story of the raising of Jarius’s daughter from the dead, Jesus intentionally deceived the crowd of professional mourners. This troubles me. Lying is never right...is it? I always feel guilty when I deceive, but my wife pointed out that Jesus deceived of the crowd in Mark 5, and I believe that her conclusion is justified. Jesus didn’t want the knowledge of what he had done to be spread, and he deceived the crowd to conceal the fact that he had just raised a girl from the dead.