When man began to multiply on the face of the land and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of man were attractive. And they took as their wives any they chose. Then the Lord said, “My Spirit shall not abide in [or "contend with"] man forever, for he is flesh: his days shall be 120 years.” The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of man and they bore children to them. These were the mighty men who were of old, the men of renown.
— Genesis 6:1-4, ESV
The Hebrew phrase rendered here "Sons of God" (ben-'elohiym) is also used in Deuteronomy to refer to Israel and in Job and Psalms to refer to angels. Gesenius's lexicon points out that in the Hebrew language, ben (the son[s] of) can refer not only to physical generation, but also to an association with something (e.g. "sons of wickedness", "son of suffering"). Thus, this passage could be referring to the godly line of Seth's descendants (as laid out immediately before in Genesis 5), or it could be referring to angels (presumably fallen angels). The "daughters of man" are, obviously, human women. Interestingly enough, the word translated man here is the exact same word as is transliterated "Adam". So it is not beyond the realm of possibility that the contrast between the "sons of God" and the "daughters of man" is a contrast between those who followed God and those who, like Adam, rebelled against Him.
Of course, hermeneutically speaking, it is equally possible that this passage refers to the seduction of human women by (fallen) angels. However, this interpretation is doomed to dismal failure theologically, on three key points.
1. Angels do not marry.
Jesus tells us (Matthew 22:30, Mark 12:25) that after the resurrection, people "neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like the angels in heaven." This strongly implies that angels neither marry nor are given in marriage. The objection may be raised that, perhaps, these antediluvian fallen angels procreated with, but did not ceremonially wed the "daughters of men" (after all, the word here translated "wives" literally means "women" — the Hebrew phrase laqach 'ishshah usually means "to take a woman to be a wife", but is also used to describe Shechem's extramarital relations with Dinah [Genesis 34:2]). However, the mere idea of angelic procreation with humans is problematic in itself, as will soon be pointed out.
2. Angels do not have physical bodies.
We see, multiple times in Scripture, that angels appear or disappear at will (Exodus 3:2; Judges 6:12, 13:3; Luke 1:11, 2:9, 13, 22:43), can sometimes seen by some people but not others (Numbers 22:22-31, II Kings 6:17), and, most tellingly, do not interact physically with the physical world. Jesus' strongest assurance to His disciples that He was flesh and blood, not spirit, was eating (Luke 24:36-43). But nowhere in the Bible are we told of angels eating (earthly) food. In fact, we are given two distinct accounts of food being offered to an angel and the angel refusing to eat it (Judges 6:19-21, 13:15-20).
Someone might bring up Genesis 18-19 in an attempt to contradict this statement. However, I contend that the two men commonly referred to as "angels" may not have been angels at all, but rather prophets. The Hebrew word mal'ak literally means "messenger" and is used in Haggai 1:13 and Malachi 3:1 to refer to prophets. Furthermore, in Genesis 19, the words mal'ak and 'enowshe (which is a generic word referring to human men) are used interchangeably to refer to these mysterious figures.
3. Semidemonic Nephilim raise a number of insoluble problems.
The exact definition of the Hebrew word nĕphiyl is uncertain and can be understood a number of ways; in fact, Gesenius notes that a variation of the word in Chaldean refers to the constellation of Orion. (Gesenius goes on to note that he prefers the interpretation, "fallers, rebels, apostates". However, his wording indicates that this is merely his personal preference and that the actual definition of the word is uncertain.) We see this word used only one other time in Scripture: in Numbers 13:33, when the Israelite spies describe the inhabitants of Caanan; here it is used to emphasize the size and strength of their enemies.
One understanding of the Nephilim, as explained to me by a friend, proposes that the Nephilim were half-human, half-demon hybrids, and could not be allowed to exist (hence the flood). Somehow they repopulated after the flood, giving rise to the Israelites' requirement to leave nothing living of the peoples they drove out of Caanan — no men, no women, no children, not even animals. But aside from the lack of ground for this interpretation of the word and the failure of Scripture to support a semidemonic origin for any species, this explanation contains a further problem: The Israelites were ordered to eliminate every living creature in the Promised Land ... but they failed. (Judges 1 contains a long list of their failures, and Joshua 9:24-27 indicates another. Note also that Rahab, a prostitute and an inhabitant of Jericho which was utterly obliterated for centuries, was not only spared with her family, but also became one of Jesus' ancestors.) Now it is conceivable that God ordained for Israel to spare only the few people who were not part demon, but holding to this understanding of the text requires an unwieldy stretch of the imagination. Is it not more likely that the Bible means exactly what it says — that God had Israel obliterate their forerunners because of their forerunners' wickedness and to demonstrate to the rest of the world that HE IS A GOD BEFORE WHOM NO EVIL CAN STAND?
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Police!
This actually happened about twelve days ago, but I thought it might offer some enjoyment to my readers.
On the way home from Ruby's Cafe, I stopped at a QuikTrip to use the restroom and pick up an Arizona. I climbed back into the van and switched on the reading light on my instrument panel (the dash lights are extremely flaky; on the rare occasion when they actually come on, they will suddenly go back off without warning). I started up my music again (The Altar and the Door, borrowed from my brother) and pulled out.
After about a mile, I stopped at a red light. While waiting for it to turn green, I heard a very loud whistle coming from my left. I turned to look, and some guy in a white minivan was pointing at me and trying to get my attention. I was quite offended — was this some crazy homosexual trying to solicit me? The light went green, and we continued on our way. The van stayed right beside me for a mile. At the next intersection, I arrived just as the light was turning yellow. Hoping to lose the minivan, I sped through the intersection on the tail of the car in front of me. A little green car in the right-turn lane of the intersecting street honked loudly at me as I passed. Boy, some people are rude, I thought.
Four miles further down the road, I was convinced that two or three particular vehicles were following me, and I was eager to get home and away from them. But as I passed the library I remembered that I had a book in. Not sure how late they were open, I decided to stop by and find out if I could pick up the book. I turned into the neighborhood near the library, and a white pickup turned after me. I was quite disturbed. As I wound my way through the neighborhood, I kept glancing at my rearview mirror ... he was following me, but at a distance — as if he didn't want me to know he was following. But I knew.
I turned onto "B" Avenue, which goes right past the library, and was struck by how dark the road was. No cars were around, so I flipped on my brights. Nothing happened. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that my headlights were turned off. I quickly switched them on, and now things began to make sense ... the guys in the van weren't being weird, they were trying to tell me that my lights were off. The green car wasn't being rude — with my lights off, I was nearly invisible; I had narrowly escaped an accident. I took a deep breath and thanked God for keeping me safe.
But things only got crazier.
Shortly after I turned on my headlights, a white car turned into B Avenue heading in my direction. I realized that my brights were still on, so I clicked them off. The car was a police car, and as I passed it, it stopped. I turned into the library and glanced at my mirror. The police car had turned around and was following me, as was a second police car. I pulled into the library's back parking lot and parked.
The first police car pulled in behind me and turned on his lights. What on earth...? I wondered. Did I just go 30 in the 25 mph neighborhood? Do they have my van confused with some dangerous criminal? Could it have anything to do with my lights? ... No way, you can't get pulled over for that. Great, I must have been speeding. Now I'm going to get a ticket ... $200 fine ... insurance costs will go up ... this is not my day.
I turned off the music, rolled down my window, pulled out my wallet, and fished out my license. The police officer slowly walked up to my door, shining his flashlight into the windows of the van.
"Evenin'," he said.
"Good evening," I replied.
"Mind if I ask what you're doing at the library this late at night?"
"I have a book to pick up, and I'm not sure how late they're open." I handed him my license. The officer accepted it, then shone his flashlight over at the library window, where in large letters were printed "MON - THU 12 - 8"
"Ah, eight o'clock," I read, feeling rather silly.
He looked at his watch. "It's nearly ten o'clock. I don't know of any library that's open this late." I felt even more foolish.
"You going somewhere?" he asked.
"Yeah, I was on my way home," I answered. "I just had a meeting with some friends at Ruby's Full Cup Café; we left about nine." He nodded.
Then he hit me with the crucial question. "So, do you mind telling me why you just drove six miles without your headlights on?"
My stomach flipped. Okay, this was the reason they pulled me over ... now I'm going to get a ticket. Wonderful. I tried to keep my voice calm as I answered. "I forgot to turn them on when I left the QT at 101st and Memorial, and didn't notice until I turned into this neighborhood where there are no streetlights," I explained.
He nodded disbelievingly. "So you didn't notice? No headlights?"
"Yeah, with all the streeghtlights ..."
"And no dash lights?"
"My dash lights don't work. That's why I have this," I answered, showing him the reading light on the instrument panel. He looked in. The dash lights were off and the headlights were on, so I was obviously telling the truth, at least about that.
There was silence for a minute. My heart was racing, my stomach was twisting, and my voice was starting to shake.
"Sorry, I'm kinda nervous," I added; "I've never been pulled over before."
"Yeah, well, people don't usually drive around at night with their lights off," he pointed out.
"I know. I'm sorry; I realize the danger in that. In fact, I think I nearly got hit going through one intersection," I answered. "It won't happen again."
He nodded distantly. "So, can I ask ... just a standard question ... you haven't been drinking anything, have you?"
I picked up the half-empty Arizona bottle from my cupholder. "Just tea," I answered.
"Just tea," he repeated. "OK. Hang on a minute, let me call this in." He took my license back to his car.
I took a deep breath and finished the Arizona in an attempt to calm myself down. Then a second police car pulled in with its lights flashing as well. Oh, great, now what? I wondered. I fished out the registration and proof of insurance for the van while I waited. An officer got out of the second car and talked to the officer in the first car for a minute. Then the first officer came back up to my window and said, "Sir, could I ask you to step out for just a moment? We just want to run a quick test to see if you've been drinking anything ... just a standard procedure to satisfy —" he gestured in the direction of his superior officer.
"Sure," I said, climbing out. "Oh, do you want the vehicle registration?"
"Sure," he replied. I handed him the registration paper. He glanced at it and said, "That won't do me any good; I need to see the proof of insurance."
"Oh, insurance," I answered, feeling stupid again. I traded the registration for the proof of insurance. He looked at the proof of insurance, nodded, and handed it back to me.
He had me stand in front of him and watch the end of his pen with my eyes (not turning my head) while he moved it back and forth in front of my face from directly in the beam of his flashlight to the darkness of the surrounding night. He watched my eyes to check the pupil dilation rates — the eyes of a person who is under the influence of alcohol or drugs have trouble adjusting from darkness to light and vice versa. After a couple of passes, he nodded to the other officer and said I was fine.
"Thanks; we just wanted to check on that 'cause we've had several people call in concerned about you driving with your lights off. And some people were trying to get your attention ... ?"
"Yeah," I answered, "one car honked at me when I went through an intersection, but I just thought they were being rude. And somebody else was whistling and pointing at me, but I thought they were ... you know ..."
"Trying to get a date?" he chuckled.
"Yeah."
"All right. Well, have a safe trip home," he said.
"Okay. Thanks," I said. I also thanked the other officer and shook his hand. They returned my license and left. I sat for a minute to recover my breath, then drove home. My stomach was still twisting when I walked in the front door about fifteen minutes later.
On the way home from Ruby's Cafe, I stopped at a QuikTrip to use the restroom and pick up an Arizona. I climbed back into the van and switched on the reading light on my instrument panel (the dash lights are extremely flaky; on the rare occasion when they actually come on, they will suddenly go back off without warning). I started up my music again (The Altar and the Door, borrowed from my brother) and pulled out.
After about a mile, I stopped at a red light. While waiting for it to turn green, I heard a very loud whistle coming from my left. I turned to look, and some guy in a white minivan was pointing at me and trying to get my attention. I was quite offended — was this some crazy homosexual trying to solicit me? The light went green, and we continued on our way. The van stayed right beside me for a mile. At the next intersection, I arrived just as the light was turning yellow. Hoping to lose the minivan, I sped through the intersection on the tail of the car in front of me. A little green car in the right-turn lane of the intersecting street honked loudly at me as I passed. Boy, some people are rude, I thought.
Four miles further down the road, I was convinced that two or three particular vehicles were following me, and I was eager to get home and away from them. But as I passed the library I remembered that I had a book in. Not sure how late they were open, I decided to stop by and find out if I could pick up the book. I turned into the neighborhood near the library, and a white pickup turned after me. I was quite disturbed. As I wound my way through the neighborhood, I kept glancing at my rearview mirror ... he was following me, but at a distance — as if he didn't want me to know he was following. But I knew.
I turned onto "B" Avenue, which goes right past the library, and was struck by how dark the road was. No cars were around, so I flipped on my brights. Nothing happened. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that my headlights were turned off. I quickly switched them on, and now things began to make sense ... the guys in the van weren't being weird, they were trying to tell me that my lights were off. The green car wasn't being rude — with my lights off, I was nearly invisible; I had narrowly escaped an accident. I took a deep breath and thanked God for keeping me safe.
But things only got crazier.
Shortly after I turned on my headlights, a white car turned into B Avenue heading in my direction. I realized that my brights were still on, so I clicked them off. The car was a police car, and as I passed it, it stopped. I turned into the library and glanced at my mirror. The police car had turned around and was following me, as was a second police car. I pulled into the library's back parking lot and parked.
The first police car pulled in behind me and turned on his lights. What on earth...? I wondered. Did I just go 30 in the 25 mph neighborhood? Do they have my van confused with some dangerous criminal? Could it have anything to do with my lights? ... No way, you can't get pulled over for that. Great, I must have been speeding. Now I'm going to get a ticket ... $200 fine ... insurance costs will go up ... this is not my day.
I turned off the music, rolled down my window, pulled out my wallet, and fished out my license. The police officer slowly walked up to my door, shining his flashlight into the windows of the van.
"Evenin'," he said.
"Good evening," I replied.
"Mind if I ask what you're doing at the library this late at night?"
"I have a book to pick up, and I'm not sure how late they're open." I handed him my license. The officer accepted it, then shone his flashlight over at the library window, where in large letters were printed "MON - THU 12 - 8"
"Ah, eight o'clock," I read, feeling rather silly.
He looked at his watch. "It's nearly ten o'clock. I don't know of any library that's open this late." I felt even more foolish.
"You going somewhere?" he asked.
"Yeah, I was on my way home," I answered. "I just had a meeting with some friends at Ruby's Full Cup Café; we left about nine." He nodded.
Then he hit me with the crucial question. "So, do you mind telling me why you just drove six miles without your headlights on?"
My stomach flipped. Okay, this was the reason they pulled me over ... now I'm going to get a ticket. Wonderful. I tried to keep my voice calm as I answered. "I forgot to turn them on when I left the QT at 101st and Memorial, and didn't notice until I turned into this neighborhood where there are no streetlights," I explained.
He nodded disbelievingly. "So you didn't notice? No headlights?"
"Yeah, with all the streeghtlights ..."
"And no dash lights?"
"My dash lights don't work. That's why I have this," I answered, showing him the reading light on the instrument panel. He looked in. The dash lights were off and the headlights were on, so I was obviously telling the truth, at least about that.
There was silence for a minute. My heart was racing, my stomach was twisting, and my voice was starting to shake.
"Sorry, I'm kinda nervous," I added; "I've never been pulled over before."
"Yeah, well, people don't usually drive around at night with their lights off," he pointed out.
"I know. I'm sorry; I realize the danger in that. In fact, I think I nearly got hit going through one intersection," I answered. "It won't happen again."
He nodded distantly. "So, can I ask ... just a standard question ... you haven't been drinking anything, have you?"
I picked up the half-empty Arizona bottle from my cupholder. "Just tea," I answered.
"Just tea," he repeated. "OK. Hang on a minute, let me call this in." He took my license back to his car.
I took a deep breath and finished the Arizona in an attempt to calm myself down. Then a second police car pulled in with its lights flashing as well. Oh, great, now what? I wondered. I fished out the registration and proof of insurance for the van while I waited. An officer got out of the second car and talked to the officer in the first car for a minute. Then the first officer came back up to my window and said, "Sir, could I ask you to step out for just a moment? We just want to run a quick test to see if you've been drinking anything ... just a standard procedure to satisfy —" he gestured in the direction of his superior officer.
"Sure," I said, climbing out. "Oh, do you want the vehicle registration?"
"Sure," he replied. I handed him the registration paper. He glanced at it and said, "That won't do me any good; I need to see the proof of insurance."
"Oh, insurance," I answered, feeling stupid again. I traded the registration for the proof of insurance. He looked at the proof of insurance, nodded, and handed it back to me.
He had me stand in front of him and watch the end of his pen with my eyes (not turning my head) while he moved it back and forth in front of my face from directly in the beam of his flashlight to the darkness of the surrounding night. He watched my eyes to check the pupil dilation rates — the eyes of a person who is under the influence of alcohol or drugs have trouble adjusting from darkness to light and vice versa. After a couple of passes, he nodded to the other officer and said I was fine.
"Thanks; we just wanted to check on that 'cause we've had several people call in concerned about you driving with your lights off. And some people were trying to get your attention ... ?"
"Yeah," I answered, "one car honked at me when I went through an intersection, but I just thought they were being rude. And somebody else was whistling and pointing at me, but I thought they were ... you know ..."
"Trying to get a date?" he chuckled.
"Yeah."
"All right. Well, have a safe trip home," he said.
"Okay. Thanks," I said. I also thanked the other officer and shook his hand. They returned my license and left. I sat for a minute to recover my breath, then drove home. My stomach was still twisting when I walked in the front door about fifteen minutes later.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Michigan again!
Well, as all my readers probably know by now, I went up to Michigan last week for the cast and crew screening of The Meaning of "Choice". Mr. Thompson was kind enough to donate some of his Frequent Flyer miles to get me there — I am very grateful to him for that.
My first flight from Tulsa on Thursday morning took off just after 6:00 AM, so I got to fly through the sunrise. I took several pictures which would have been astounding if the airplane window had not been so filthy.
I had a great time with the Thompsons. I even played a little Airsoft with Collin — and got to use against him the gun he threatened me with the the movie. Ah, sweet revenge.
Friday night arrived and we headed over to St. Michael's Media for the screening. Almost everybody was there.
Sadly, the Thorns were unable to make the trip from Ohio, and a couple of our actors (Leslie Burken, Mrs. O'Connor, Young Sarah O'Connor) were also missing — but we nevertheless had a good crowd.
Zyrek Castelino, our wonderful, indispensable audio engineer and all-around fantastic guy is moving to Indiana this weekend. So we included in the festivities a surprise farewell party for him. We even got Clare to cut the cake with the knife from the movie! (She was reluctant at first — she even went so far as to try to give me the knife ... scary thought! — but she accomplished the feat quite well.)
May the Lord bless you in this new leg of your journey of life, Zyrek!
Here are a few faces of the awesome people I was so blessed to meet again ...
Annick Marshall takes a bite of Zyrek's going-away cake while photophiliac Evan Thompson grins at the camera.
Allision Marshall also samples the cake.
Danielle Thompson and Evvie Marshall chat.
Zyrek and Annick ... two of the most awesome people in the world.
Staredown contest between Catrina Marshall and me. Longest staredown I've ever had. We each won once.
I had a wonderful time with my "family away from family", and hopefully sometime I'll come back to visit again.
Until then....
— The Panther
My first flight from Tulsa on Thursday morning took off just after 6:00 AM, so I got to fly through the sunrise. I took several pictures which would have been astounding if the airplane window had not been so filthy.
I had a great time with the Thompsons. I even played a little Airsoft with Collin — and got to use against him the gun he threatened me with the the movie. Ah, sweet revenge.
Friday night arrived and we headed over to St. Michael's Media for the screening. Almost everybody was there.
Sadly, the Thorns were unable to make the trip from Ohio, and a couple of our actors (Leslie Burken, Mrs. O'Connor, Young Sarah O'Connor) were also missing — but we nevertheless had a good crowd.
Zyrek Castelino, our wonderful, indispensable audio engineer and all-around fantastic guy is moving to Indiana this weekend. So we included in the festivities a surprise farewell party for him. We even got Clare to cut the cake with the knife from the movie! (She was reluctant at first — she even went so far as to try to give me the knife ... scary thought! — but she accomplished the feat quite well.)
May the Lord bless you in this new leg of your journey of life, Zyrek!
Here are a few faces of the awesome people I was so blessed to meet again ...
Annick Marshall takes a bite of Zyrek's going-away cake while photophiliac Evan Thompson grins at the camera.
Allision Marshall also samples the cake.
Danielle Thompson and Evvie Marshall chat.
Zyrek and Annick ... two of the most awesome people in the world.
Staredown contest between Catrina Marshall and me. Longest staredown I've ever had. We each won once.
I had a wonderful time with my "family away from family", and hopefully sometime I'll come back to visit again.
Until then....
— The Panther
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Be Thou My Vision
One of my all-time favorite hymns is Be Thou My Vision, an Irish hymn dating back to somewhere in the 700s. I love it, not only for the simple beauty of the music, but because the words are at once profound in their theology and challenging in their message. Every verse is a strong reminder to put my focus on God, rather than on myself.
Over the last few days, I've been going through some struggles, and the third verse of this hymn particularly stood out to me:
Be Thou my Battle-Shield, Sword for my fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my High Tower;
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Pow'r of my pow'r!
I have always loved paradoxes, and this verse is full of them. It is a prayer asking God to be my ...
May God alone be my vision and yours.
— The Panther
Over the last few days, I've been going through some struggles, and the third verse of this hymn particularly stood out to me:
Be Thou my Battle-Shield, Sword for my fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my High Tower;
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Pow'r of my pow'r!
I have always loved paradoxes, and this verse is full of them. It is a prayer asking God to be my ...
- battle-shield and sword: I cannot win any battles by myself. This is a prayer that God would be the One Who shields me from harm, and at the same time the One Who fights for my cause.
- dignity and delight: Dignity (self-respect) and delight (happiness) are usually considered unrelated, perhaps even incompatible. But in God they are one and the same. I have no dignity of my own, and to delight in myself or anything else in this world is folly. This is a prayer that God would be sufficient for me when the world spurns or lures me.
- shelter and high tower: My shelter is the place where I go to hide from storms or enemies or wild animals. A high tower is a lookout, from which I can see more clearly than I could standing on the ground. This is a prayer that God would give me peace and wisdom to both endure and conquer the trials He sends my way.
May God alone be my vision and yours.
— The Panther
Monday, July 16, 2007
Of Arks and Arks
Just some random facts, figures, thoughts, and musings on Noah's Ark, the Ark of the Covenant, and related topics ...
An editor recently published an article in the Opinion section of our newspaper mocking the Creation Museum and Young-Earth Creationism in general. Among other things, he said, "If [Noah brought dinosaurs on the ark], it must have been a much bigger ark than even the Bible claims. Loading the Apatosaurs alone would have been quite a fete." Aside from the obvious misspelling at the end (a fete, or fête, is a party; a feat is a grand accomplishment), he displays an obvious wilfulness to overlook Answers In Genesis' full claim. I sent him an email to inform him of his error and advise him that I found his conduct highly unprofessional. But he did get me thinking ... do we really understand how massive Noah's ark really was?
The Biblical dimensions are 50 cubits wide, 30 cubits tall, and 300 cubits long. So? That doesn't make any sense to our Western measurements. Well, that translates to about 75 feet wide, 45 feet tall, and 450 feet long. Having trouble figuring out the size? That's about the height of a four-story building, nearly twice as wide as it is high (a 5:3 ratio, to be exact), and the length of one-and-a-half football fields. By the way, the Hebrew word for "ark" (as in Noah's Ark) seems to be a derivative form of a word for "box". Starting to get the picture? We're talking a massive three-decker barge the size of a giant warehouse! So forget that tiny, rounded, tippy ark you see in most Noah's Ark pictures; the Bible gives us the picture of a giant box nearly 1/10 of a mile long!
Now, what about the other ark mentioned in the Bible, the Ark of the Covenant? Is there anything special about that? The short answer is, of course, yes. The Hebrew word essentially means "chest" or "coffin"; and this was no ordinary chest.
Inside the Ark of the Covenant were a golden urn of manna, Aaron's budded staff, and the two tablets of the 10 Commandments. What is so significant about these? How do these stand for the Covenant?
The manna was God's gracious provision to the Israelites when they grumbled against Him, a crime that merited — and usually earned — severe punishment. Aaron was chosen to be the high priest of the Israelites, though he was the man in charge when Israel made their golden calf. And the two tablets were a replacement for the two that Moses broke in his anger at the golden calf. The covenant was a covenant of grace, and every one of these items was a stark reminder of God's undeserved mercy.
Now consider the symbolism of the angels on either side of the mercy seat. The mercy seat was where God's tangible presence would appear before Moses and the priests (Ex. 25:22). The cherubim on either side faced each other, but with their faces turned toward the mercy seat; they did not look upwards towards God's face, but downwards toward the place where the blood of the sacrifices would be sprinkled, and toward the items inside the ark. Peter talks about God's grace as "things into which angels long to look". The angels know well God's glory and holiness. As ministers of His justice, they understand His justice. Yet even they cannot comprehend the mystery of grace. Salvation was not offered to the angels. Jesus came as a man, not as an angel. He died for men, not for angels. Though they may know far more about His glory than we do now, we have something at which they can only marvel. And we mortals cannot comprehend this mystery, either. We should marvel, as well.
The Panther
An editor recently published an article in the Opinion section of our newspaper mocking the Creation Museum and Young-Earth Creationism in general. Among other things, he said, "If [Noah brought dinosaurs on the ark], it must have been a much bigger ark than even the Bible claims. Loading the Apatosaurs alone would have been quite a fete." Aside from the obvious misspelling at the end (a fete, or fête, is a party; a feat is a grand accomplishment), he displays an obvious wilfulness to overlook Answers In Genesis' full claim. I sent him an email to inform him of his error and advise him that I found his conduct highly unprofessional. But he did get me thinking ... do we really understand how massive Noah's ark really was?
The Biblical dimensions are 50 cubits wide, 30 cubits tall, and 300 cubits long. So? That doesn't make any sense to our Western measurements. Well, that translates to about 75 feet wide, 45 feet tall, and 450 feet long. Having trouble figuring out the size? That's about the height of a four-story building, nearly twice as wide as it is high (a 5:3 ratio, to be exact), and the length of one-and-a-half football fields. By the way, the Hebrew word for "ark" (as in Noah's Ark) seems to be a derivative form of a word for "box". Starting to get the picture? We're talking a massive three-decker barge the size of a giant warehouse! So forget that tiny, rounded, tippy ark you see in most Noah's Ark pictures; the Bible gives us the picture of a giant box nearly 1/10 of a mile long!
Now, what about the other ark mentioned in the Bible, the Ark of the Covenant? Is there anything special about that? The short answer is, of course, yes. The Hebrew word essentially means "chest" or "coffin"; and this was no ordinary chest.
Inside the Ark of the Covenant were a golden urn of manna, Aaron's budded staff, and the two tablets of the 10 Commandments. What is so significant about these? How do these stand for the Covenant?
The manna was God's gracious provision to the Israelites when they grumbled against Him, a crime that merited — and usually earned — severe punishment. Aaron was chosen to be the high priest of the Israelites, though he was the man in charge when Israel made their golden calf. And the two tablets were a replacement for the two that Moses broke in his anger at the golden calf. The covenant was a covenant of grace, and every one of these items was a stark reminder of God's undeserved mercy.
Now consider the symbolism of the angels on either side of the mercy seat. The mercy seat was where God's tangible presence would appear before Moses and the priests (Ex. 25:22). The cherubim on either side faced each other, but with their faces turned toward the mercy seat; they did not look upwards towards God's face, but downwards toward the place where the blood of the sacrifices would be sprinkled, and toward the items inside the ark. Peter talks about God's grace as "things into which angels long to look". The angels know well God's glory and holiness. As ministers of His justice, they understand His justice. Yet even they cannot comprehend the mystery of grace. Salvation was not offered to the angels. Jesus came as a man, not as an angel. He died for men, not for angels. Though they may know far more about His glory than we do now, we have something at which they can only marvel. And we mortals cannot comprehend this mystery, either. We should marvel, as well.
The Panther
First "real" post
Well, since people are apparently reading this blog now, I suppose I should try to update it once in a while.
Right now I am busy working on a couple of slideshows for the high-school graduation of a brother and his friend — which is taking place this Saturday. After the graduation, I'm not sure what will be happening, but I will try to remember to keep you readers posted from time to time.
The Panther
Right now I am busy working on a couple of slideshows for the high-school graduation of a brother and his friend — which is taking place this Saturday. After the graduation, I'm not sure what will be happening, but I will try to remember to keep you readers posted from time to time.
The Panther
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Welcome to the Panther's Lair.
Friends, family, and anyone else ... welcome to my new blog. I've just started it, so there's not much to see here yet, but there will be more to come in the future. From time to time.
if you scroll down a little you can see some links to FrontSight's website. FrontSight is one of the world's best firearm training providers, and if you act within the next couple of days, you can receive a certificate for a free four-day firearm training course (ARV $2000). Go to this page and follow the instructions.
"After you have placed our links on your link page, simply e-mail me (info@frontsight.com) a link to the page you have listed our links on along with your name, address and a personal statement that you will keep the links on your page for a period of at least three years.
I will personally review your link page to verify the links are in place and then mail you a special certificate, that has no expiration date, to attend the Four Day Course of your choice. The certificate is also transferable, so if you cannot use it, you can always transfer it to someone who can."
Yeah, it's that simple.
The Panther
::edit::
Time's up. The offer expired at the end of June. Sorry, folks. :-(
The Panther
if you scroll down a little you can see some links to FrontSight's website. FrontSight is one of the world's best firearm training providers, and if you act within the next couple of days, you can receive a certificate for a free four-day firearm training course (ARV $2000). Go to this page and follow the instructions.
"After you have placed our links on your link page, simply e-mail me (info@frontsight.com) a link to the page you have listed our links on along with your name, address and a personal statement that you will keep the links on your page for a period of at least three years.
I will personally review your link page to verify the links are in place and then mail you a special certificate, that has no expiration date, to attend the Four Day Course of your choice. The certificate is also transferable, so if you cannot use it, you can always transfer it to someone who can."
Yeah, it's that simple.
The Panther
::edit::
Time's up. The offer expired at the end of June. Sorry, folks. :-(
The Panther
FrontSight Firearms Training
- Front Sight Firearms Training
- Ignatius Piazza - founder of Front Sight
- Ignatius Piazza Blog
- Ignatius Piazza - in Las Vegas Mercury
- Front Sight - in The Mail on Sunday Review
- Ignatius Piazza - in Times Democrat
- Front Sight - on CNN
- Ignatius Piazza - in National Enquirer
- Front Sight - in Icon Magazine
- Ignatius Piazza - in Chicago Tribune
- Ignatius Piazza - in Gun World
- Ignatius Piazza - in San Francisco Chronicle
- Ignatius Piazza - in Fort Worth Star Telegram
- Front Sight - in Financial Times
- Front Sight - on BBC News
- Front Sight - in Gun Web
- Front Sight - in New York Times
- Ignatius Piazza - in Small Arms Review
- Front Sight - in Sierra Times
- Ignatius Piazza - in Forbes Magazine
- Ignatius Piazza - on World Net Daily
- Front Sight - in Guns & Ammo
- Front Sight - on USA Today
- Front Sight - in Santa Cruz Sentinel
- Ignatius Piazza - in Handvapen Guiden
- Ignatius Piazza - in Las Vegas Sun
- Ignatius Piazza - in Las Vegas Life
- Front Sight - in US News & World Report
- Front Sight - in London Times
- Ignatius Piazza - in Washington Post
- Front Sight - in El Pais Seminal
- Front Sight - in Pajaronian Register
- Front Sight - in Black Belt Magazine
- Front Sight - in Cybercast News Service
- Ignatius Piazza - in El Mercurio
- Front Sight - in Los Angeles Times
- Ignatius Piazza - in Playboy
- My Experience at Front Sight
- Ignatius Piazza - on Reform America
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