Seeing Stars from Deepest Wells? (2)

 

 

Recently I was reading Revelation Chapter One aloud to Vickie from Peterson’s, The Message. We came to verse 16 and “His mouth a sharp-biting sward, his face a perigee sun.”

 

“What does perigee mean,” I asked? Since neither one of us knew I looked it up.

 

The online Merriam – Webster dictionary informed us that perigee means “the point in the orbit of an object (such as a satellite) orbiting the earth that is nearest to the center of the earth.” This means that while we can speak of perigee moons, we cannot speak of perigee suns since the sun does not orbit the earth. Peterson chose an incorrect word (a check of the online version of The Message shows that this has been corrected).

 

Whether we are writing of seeing stars from the deepest wells, or of perigee suns, we ought to be checking ourselves.

 

We visited a church not long ago which sang a song with the words, “Then You came along and put me back together.” Where does this come from? We are not put “back together” by Jesus, we are made new creations in Him, our old “man” dies with Him, and we are raised in newness of life. We now have a new identity in the Trinity – we are not a Humpty Dumpty miracle. Our modus operandi seems to be, “If it feels good write it and sing it.” We no longer care about the truth of our lyrics, any more than we care about the truth of our books.

 

I still recall the reaction of a leader in the church association I was with when The Shack was published, all he cared about was that it touched people. When I circulated a paper to pastors demonstrating the error of the book and its attack on the Atonement, he wondered what my “problem” was. Apparently touching people is all that matters, it does not matter whether we touch them with truth or error, with light or with darkness.

 

Of course, error is often subtle and looks good, even looks great, and so people are attracted to it – as Paul writes, Satan transforms himself into an angel of light (2 Corinthians 11:14).

  

I recall my reaction to Stephen Ambrose’s Nothing Like It In the Word, an account of the building of the transcontinental railroad – it was that it contained implausible error after error, common sense errors. How could people read the book and not see that the railroad could have never been completed at the daily rate (often in inches when blasting through rock as I recall) that Ambrose was using. The public loved the book, at least until wiser eyes critiqued it. As one online writer observes, “The book was rife with factual errors, misquotes, contradictions, demonstrably misleading and/or inaccurate statements, and unsupported conclusions.”

 

But why allow facts to ruin a good story?

 

My reaction to a biography about Bonhoeffer was similar, the difference being that my reaction was on two levels, one was literary and the other historical and theological. On a literary level the writing was, at times, juvenile. On an historical and theological level, it was often inaccurate, error filled, and failed to comprehend, even in a rudimentary fashion, Bonhoeffer’s thinking. When two historians, one from Grove City College and the other from Wheaton, took issue with the author’s inaccuracies, he accused them of nitpicking. Many people loved the book, once again, why allow facts (and in this case poor writing) to ruin what we think is a good story?

 

The same is true of our fascination with Biblical prophecy, which is seldom Biblical, but sure is entertaining. I have a friend who has been a member of his Presbyterian denomination for decades and yet who goes along with popular teachers on prophecy – teaching which his denomination and tradition do not support. When I send him examples of what his denomination teaches (from the denomination’s website), when I suggest that he talk to his pastor, he will have none of it – it is better to go with the crowd and the popular franchise prophecy industry and money generating teachers and preachers than to take the time to thoughtfully consider what his denomination teaches, what his pastor believes, and to actually read the Bible.

 

If it feels good, believe it. If it sounds good, it must be true.

 

Well, I really just wanted to write about seeing stars from deepest wells, which I consider a somewhat innocent offender in this lineup of inaccuracies, for I think Arthur Bennett simply used something he’d assumed for decades was true – a warning to us all. Other offenders are more serious because they can hurt people.

 

The problem isn’t really with the authors and speakers; it is with the readers and listeners. If we knew how to read and how to listen, if we didn’t allow ourselves to be led by rings in our noses, we would ask, “Is this true?” Then we might say, “Enough of this nonsense!”

 

If we don’t know the Scriptures, what can we expect? If Jesus isn’t our North Star, if He isn’t the heartbeat of our lives, if we aren’t loving Him with all that we have and all that we are…then we will surely be led astray…and it will be on us, not on the traducers who feed us poison. Yes, they will have their Day before the Throne, but so will we.

 

Despite of Bennett’s mistake in his prayer, The Valley of Vision is a wonderful compilation of prayers, with Christ at its center. As for Peterson and Revelation 1:16, he really should have known better, another warning to us all.

 

Stephen Ambrose is a sad example of someone who once performed exemplary work becoming an example of the slovenly.

 

The above song lyrics, The Shack, the Bonhoeffer biography, the prophecy teaching industry which has seduced so many and picked their pockets; they are all another matter. They are not a matter of seeing the stars from the deepest wells, but rather of descending into the darkness of the wells and taking others with them.