The Certainty Trap

/ W. Keith Brenton / 105 Comments

I’ve become convinced that certainty about what everything means in the Bible is a trap and a lie and the slipperiest slope ever.

Because it depends so heavily on the power of human reasoning.

And it usually doesn’t ask the Holy Spirit for help.

Certainty about everything in the Bible is, for some, absolutely necessary or their doctrine can become contaminated with uncertainty and their works found sinful because they did not — in every instance — rightly divide the word, and felt that somehow the intellect God gave them was a guarantee that they could and should and a command that they must.

That’s one of the dangers of seeing a command behind every period in every sentence of scripture, you see.

And I’m exaggerating, of course, for the value of emphasis — and please don’t take me to task for it as if no one on the “certainty” side of the argument has ever done that.

But let’s face it, when we lean on our own understanding … when we fail to ask for the Holy Spirit because we’ve convinced ourselves that He’s no longer given and wouldn’t help if He still were … when we become addicted to the adrenalin rush of certainty plus the power it brings over others ….

… we’ve gotten ourselves into a mess of trouble.

We’ve become self-reliant … authoritative … superior … judgmental … arrogant.

— when by contrast Jesus asks the believer to be reliant on Him, on His authority, on His superiority, on His judgment, on His humility.

Not everything in scripture is a command.

Nor is everything in scripture crystal-clear. Not every prophecy and mystery is self-explaining to the superior intellect.

If it were, then the humbly-blest (pathetic souls like me who can barely think their way out of a cardboard box) would be locked out of the gates of heaven for their ignorance and inability to decode God’s hidden agenda in scripture. Not because they didn’t obey; but because they didn’t obey everything they couldn’t understand.

Wow. That sounds really fair of God to damn the stupid.

Which leads me to believe that, when we rely on our own certainty instead of God’s, it’s because we’ve chosen to have a view of God that makes Him psychologically warped, secretive, vindictive, and condemnatory above all — while proclaiming Himself to be loving, kind, forgiving, merciful and just.

That’s where atheists go. They choose not to believe in Him because they don’t want to, and that’s the way they describe Him.

What does it say about the believer who chooses to believe in Him being that way?

Far too much of what we’ve been certain about are interpretations of scripture, conclusions drawn from it, based entirely on human logic that turns out to be fundamentally flawed under close inspection.

But there is one thing we can hang our hats (and souls) on — and should, and must:

God is who He says He is.

There are mysteries in scripture which He chose not to reveal in plain language — truths He reserves unto Himself, until the time He chooses to reveal them (and Himself) and in the way He chooses as well.

Even Jesus did not know the day and the hour.

Paul did not have instructions from the Lord on some issues.

There are things that angels long to look into.

You can be certain of it. You can be certain of what He says. You can be certain that He means what He says.

You can be certain that if you use even your best human logic to try to Sherlock out what He meant to not say, you will fail.

You can also be certain of this: reliance on self to be smart enough, good enough and by-golly-people-like-you-enough to earn your place in heaven is always going to fail.

Gnosis was never meant to be your god.

Certainty was never meant to be your god.

But what your God wants you to be certain about, He makes abundantly clear in scripture and His  words require no interpretation, no conclusions drawn, no human doctrine created to defend or explain.

They say what He means.

No more.

No less.

So don’t add. Don’t subtract. Don’t multiply or even divide them to the point where they no longer make His sense.

Ask for help. Ask for the gift of discernment given through the Holy Spirit. It just might be given.

If God loves us, He will tell us what we need to know.

But understand ahead of time that sometimes the scroll is meant to be eaten, and sometimes the words are sealed up for another time.

I’m certain of that.

The Return of New Wineskins

/ W. Keith Brenton / Leave a comment

I haven’t been at this blog very much recently. I’ve been very busy.

Over much of the holiday season, I’ve been trying to put New Wineskins (http://www.wineskins.org/) back into good operating condition, adapting and installing new page templates, sketching out new editions and recruiting writers for them.

The January, 2012 edition opened a couple of days before Christmas and has been going strong with the theme of “Incarnation: Being Christ in the World.” I’ve been very excited about the quality and quantity of articles published.

Readers of this blog who are interested in writing for NW should check out the Writers Guidelines, and the quick descriptions of Future Editions. You might also want to get up to date with the ministry itself by reading my introductory article for the January edition.

NW needs reviewers of books, movies and music (from a believer’s point of view, of course), writers of articles related to the monthly themes and not related to them at all, creative types who write or take photos or create art. NW needs writers who will keep track of new items and upcoming events. NW needs fresh points of view and perspectives.

Let me know, please — at this blog, by e-mail on the site, or in comments there — what your reactions are.

We now return you to our irregularly unscheduled programming.

What We Know and What We Don’t

/ W. Keith Brenton / 12 Comments

You can get yourself into a mess of trouble when you can no longer discern what you know from what you don’t.

For example, we know from Acts 20:7 that the intention of the mission party was to break bread on the first day of the week.

What we don’t know is a lot.

  • Was the term “breaking bread” used exclusively of the Lord’s Supper? Or was it simply indicative of a common meal? Or both?
  • Was the first day of the week the only day that this was done?
  • Was it done every week? (They did stay there seven days, v. 6. Did they also do this on the day they arrived? Does that exclude every other day of the week but the first?)
  • Had the practice become less frequent since the early, daily practice of church gathering in Jerusalem (Acts 2:42ff)?
  • If this was a weekly observance, was this practice unique to Troas?
  • Did they actually break bread on the first day of the week, or was it delayed until after Paul spoke and Eutychus fell from the window (vs. 8-12)? Or was it done both before and after?
  • Was this an example that was intended to be binding as law on the gathered church everywhere forever afterward? Or just a mention of an intention?

When we start saying that this passage of scripture says more than what we know, we’ve drawn a conclusion (or two. Or more). A conclusion may be a possibility, but it is not a certainty. And it is of human origin.

When we start saying that our conclusion is doctrine, God’s doctrine, and therefore law, we’ve gone beyond what the scripture says and have made our worship vain. (Matthew 15:9 and Mark 7:7, where Jesus quotes Isaiah 29:13)

That means we’ve gotten ourselves into a mess of trouble.

It really doesn’t matter how skillfully and scholarly we defend our conclusion; it remains a conclusion we’ve drawn. A theory. An idea.

No matter how conscientiously we observe our conclusion, nor how long — even to the point of it becoming a tradition — it remains a conclusion.

And if we start judging each other based on our conclusions, we’ve gotten ourselves into a bigger mess of trouble.

There are so many passages of scripture which make this principle so clear, I hardly know where to begin. Let’s settle for now with this one, from Paul who was given quite a bit more than just the ability to draw conclusions:

This, then, is how you ought to regard us: as servants of Christ and as those entrusted with the mysteries God has revealed. Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful. I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.

Now, brothers and sisters, I have applied these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit, so that you may learn from us the meaning of the saying, “Do not go beyond what is written.” Then you will not be puffed up in being a follower of one of us over against the other. For who makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not? ~ 1 Corinthians 4:1-7

As conclusions (or, if you wish to call them something else: interpretations, traditions, issues, disputable matters, whatever) we are free to observe them ourselves in good conscience — to the Lord — by the advice in Romans 14. But the same chapter forbids us from judging another believer, treating him or her with contempt, and putting an obstacle before them over this conclusion we’ve drawn regarding one day being holier than another.

I really don’t think that’s a conclusion I’ve drawn.

I think that’s literally what it says.

Personally — and this IS a conclusion — I don’t believe there is such a thing as celebrating the Lord’s Supper too frequently. If that is indeed what’s described in Acts 2 and Acts 20, then in the former chapter it seems to be done daily and devotedly; in public and in private; in generosity and hospitality; in the good pleasure of both God and man.

This early gathering of saints was heady with the joy of salvation, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and the blessing of fellowship together. If our goal as believers is to be like a first-century church, why not Jerusalem at the beginning? If our goal is to be like Christ, how much more like Him could we be in this? What benefits and blessings yet unknown to us might accrue from remembering Him in this unique way at the table?

Every single day.

Why Jesus Came (In His Own Words)

/ W. Keith Brenton / 2 Comments

Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” ~ Mark 1:38

“Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” ~ Matthew 20:26-28 (also Mark 10:45)

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” ~ Luke 19:10

“Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.” ~ John 12:27

“‘You are a king, then!’ said Pilate. Jesus answered, ‘You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.’” ~ John 18:37

The incarnation of the Son of God is miraculous and wonderful in so many ways … but if the Story ends at the manger, or even in Egypt, then it is only a partial telling of the miracle and wonder; it only hints at the purpose.

For His purpose as stated is much the same as ours:

  • To preach good news
  • To be a servant; to give up our lives in service
  • To seek and save the lost
  • To face the hour of sacrifice with courage
  • To testify to the truth

Long ago the Preacher opined, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

Jesus knew His time and His purpose. We who believe should, too.

Our time is now.

Our purpose is His.

Closed-Minded Debate

/ W. Keith Brenton / 25 Comments

Uh, what’s the point?

Closed-minded debate is what takes place between one or more contestants with no intention of changing point-of-view on the subject at hand.

While it may afford some entertainment for the participants and/or spectator-lurkers, of what real value is it?

It’s kind of like idling an engine for a few hours just to generate heat. No actual work gets done; no real result accrues from it.

How do you recognize when closed-minded debate is taking place? (Especially if you happen to be involved, and of the open-minded variety?)

  • The closed-minded debater will not concede any point. After all, he is right; why should he?
  • The closed-minded debater will insist on framing the issue/wording the question. This is to her advantage.
  • The closed-minded debater will frame the issue / word the question in personal terms if possible. This is to his advantage, as it opens to the door to personal attack as a diversion.
  • The closed-minded debater will make use of diversions frequently when unable to respond logically and accurately to a point made by her opponent.
  • The closed-minded debater will divert to side issues (relevant or not) in order to lengthen the discussion. (Some dogs bark because they like to hear the sound of their own voices. My neighbor has one.)
  • The closed-minded debater will show no interest in learning; learning is not the point. The closed-minded debater will show no interest in consensus; consensus is not the point. Winning is paramount. After all, he is right; why should he show such interest in collaboration with someone who is wrong?
  • The closed-minded debater will only recognize authorities and commentators who agree with her, and will discredit (substantively or not, usually not) those referenced by her opponent.
  • The closed-minded debater will only be able to see facts and citations of authorities one way, the way presently seen, and no other possibilities.
  • The closed-minded debater will accuse his opponent: of evading, of illogic, of intellectual dishonesty. After all, she is right; why shouldn’t she?
  • The closed-minded debater will frequently take offense at comments made with no intention of offending. This establishes power and calls into question his opponent’s character and therefore (ostensibly) generates sympathy for himself among the spectator-lurkers. No comment is too small to be magnified into a personal insult. This is also, often, a diversion.
  • The closed-minded debater will show little regard for conversational or personal ethic in the process. As stated before, winning is paramount; and when one is right, the end justifies the means.
  • The closed-minded debater will not be persuaded. Will. Not. Be. Persuaded.

These are fairly widespread tactics; you’ll see them all over the Web and on every so-called news network. What is truly disappointing to this believer is the size of the culture of closed-minded debate within Christendom. Believers –who of all people should be the first to understand the difference between faith and fact; the necessity of being open-minded and selfless with others; the victory that comes through saying “I was wrong” — seem to be among the very worst in many instances.

Their language may not (or may!) be as offensive, but their utter contempt for those who disagree with them on dearly-held beliefs — whether well-founded or not — is absolutely unmistakable … whether by another believer, or someone who does not believer, does not know the Story, has never really even heard of Jesus of Nazareth (other than as part of a curse or epithet).

Christian discourse should be light-years above simply civil discourse. It should be persuasive in its humility, its love and its deep concern for others above self. It should be unyielding in matters of faith, and understanding in matters of opinion, and sufficiently mature in spirit to discern them.

I have gone past being weary of the level of discourse among believers that I’ve seen (and, sadly, been a part of) and my tolerance for it has reached an all-time low.

So I’ve set some goals for myself when I feel drawn (or sucked) into closed-minded debate:

  • I will not be the closed-minded party.
  • I will love and pray for the one(s) who disagree(s) with me.
  • I will not argue matters of opinion anymore. You’re entitled to my opinion any time you like it; just read it here. I’ll be glad to read yours. I’ll probably be secretly delighted that we’re alike or different in certain ways because I believe that such commonality and diversity will both enrich and strengthen the body of believers. But I’m not going to go into hours and paragraphs and billions of pixels over something we don’t have to agree upon.
  • I will argue matters of faith. When I encounter something that challenges faith, has the potential to enlighten or strengthen or deepen it, I will argue it and argue it passionately.
  • I will admit when I am wrong. And I am frequently wrong.
  • I will continue to tell you when something is my opinion, my conclusion … and when something is simply the fact as virtually everyone else in the known universe agrees upon it, citing reference when possible.
  • I will do my best to discern the difference between those two.
  • I will concede my opponent’s points when they are correct. Hey, it happens.
  • I will always try to be a brother to a sibling in Christ, a fellow believer, and share fellowship with her.
  • I will always try to be a brother to someone who does not believe, and share fellowship with him as well.
  • I will continue to believe that Jesus loves without precondition, which is my example to follow.
  • If I cannot foresee a worthwhile outcome, I reserve the right to not participate in a challenged debate at all. I may well ask the challenger: “Is there really a possibility that either of us is going to change the other’s mind on this matter? If not, is there really any point in proceding?”

Well, that’s my short list. It’s a start.

But I think it’s a good one.

The Nativity Story from John 1

/ W. Keith Brenton / 4 Comments

Yesterday, a friend on Facebook asked a group of mostly preachers what they would be preaching about on Sunday, December 25, Christmas morning.

I answered, “I don’t preach, but if I did, I’d preach on the Nativity Story from John 1. Yup, John 1. It’s short, but cosmic.”

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. … The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. … For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known. ~ John 1:1-5, 14, 17-18

I love the baby-Jesus-in-a-manger version of the story as dearly as anyone. But this version has incredible power in its brevity.

The very Son of God, the Word, who was with God and was God from the beginning, took our form to live with us. The glory of which angels sang was now visible in Him. You could see grace. You could see truth. In Jesus, you could see God.

Want another tiny sample of this part of the Nativity Story?

“Very truly I tell you,” Jesus answered, “before Abraham was born, I am!” ~ John 8:58

They wanted to kill Him right there in the temple by throwing rocks at Him, they were so incensed to hear this. He claimed to be God. But truth is a defense against blasphemy as well as libel … and He walked away, unharmed. I have to wonder if their hands were stayed by doubt in their conviction that He was only a man; that a man could not also be God.

Another glimpse?

Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.” Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work.” ~ John 14:8-10

God with Us. Immanuel.

Jesus knew who He was. He knew what Isaiah had prophesied in 7:14, and He knew that “Immanuel” meant “God With Us.” He had to have known what His mother had treasured in her heart for all those years.

And in telling Philip and the other apostles once again Who He was, He was promising to give them the very Holy Spirit within Himself so that God could do His work through them as well.

One more glimpse, this time from someone other than John:

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. ~ Philippians 2:5-11

God became a single cell; a nothing; a thing invisible except through a microscope. God became a baby. A young man. A servant.

A sacrifice.

God intended all of this to happen, and that was why it was as good as done as soon as Jesus was born, and the angels could sing praise at His birth for what He would yet do as a man, and a servant, and a sacrifice.

Jesus showed us that God could be in and among man, so that God could continue His work in us and among us and through us by His own Holy Spirit.

Jesus showed us that we could be born anew; become something very different, something still like a human being on the outside, but full of grace and truth and God within.

Jesus showed us that the true glory of God is to serve, to give, to be given and spent out and used up in love to others.

He gave up a throne in heaven to wash dirty feet.

He gave up being in the Presence of God in order to be the Presence of God.

He surrendered His life there to surrender it again here, and to give it abundantly and without measure to anyone who hears and believes and asks.

Eden: Literal, Mythic, Allegorical …?

/ W. Keith Brenton / 7 Comments

I’m not here to make enemies or stir the pot on this one. I know it’s popular at one extreme to defend the literality of the Genesis creation account even to the length of a 24-hour-day. I know it’s popular at the other extreme to see it as two accounts, mythic in nature and structure, and both meant to be allegorical in their meaning.

What if it’s possibly all of those things — and much, much more?

(I’m not an extremist on matters of theory. More of a collectivist.)

I find great value in seeing the deep meaning in the creation account, but I see it as a single account, inspired by a single Author. After all, it’s not likely that there were eyewitnesses who recorded the creation story in writing, is it?

We’re dealing with a God who could have created (and still can) in any way He wishes. He doesn’t have to follow what we have defined as the laws of the universe, and He doesn’t have to limit Himself to what we have decided are His boundaries by what we deduce from scripture.

This God created all things in seven days. I don’t know how many hours long those seven days/ages/epochs of creation were. I don’t know how fast the earth was rotating then, or how much time passed between sunrise and sunset. I really don’t care. There weren’t any clocks then, or any writers that we know of to watch them. I believe it means “day” because it says “there was evening and morning” … I suppose that means “sunrise” and “sunset” … six times. That’s pretty definite. Moses quotes it twice in establishing Sabbath: “For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth ….” (Exodus 20:11; 31:17)

He created it and He related it — presumably through His Holy Spirit to the writer (quite possibly Moses; it isn’t exactly autographed, is it?) — to benefit all of us. He created it and He related it, so I see no reason why God couldn’t have been truthful in relating it exactly as He created it. It’s written in the simplest possible language, structured as a gorgeous cosmic poem, telling the Story exactly as He wanted it told. Children memorize it. They sing songs about it. (“Day one; day one …”) It’s clear and pointed and colorful and memorable.

If you were God and wanted your Story passed down from one generation to the next, isn’t that the way you’d want to do it? Especially to that first generation, who literally woke up in a new world every morning?

And about that. I said I believe there is one account. I don’t divvy up the account into two parallel and somewhat contradictory stories, one ending at Genesis 2:3 and the next beginning at Genesis 2:4. It’s all one Story.

God created in seven days, culminating in mankind on that sixth day (and much of the animal kingdom over which mankind — male and female — was to rule). But Genesis 2:4 — as nearly as I can tell — backs up to focus in on a special creation moment within that larger story in which God created A MAN, male, before there was even vegetation and living creatures to tend. At some time on that third day …

Now no shrub had yet appeared on the earth and no plant had yet sprung up, for the LORD God had not sent rain on the earth and there was no one to work the ground, but streams came up from the earth and watered the whole surface of the ground. Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being. ~ Genesis 2:5-7

Whether geysers, springs or both watered the earth, I do not know and have no need to speculate. The fact is that God created a caretaker for the garden He was about to plant in the east, and He provided the man with an eyewitness point-of-view for the remaining days of creation. My picture — totally interpretation! — of the days that follow (four, five and six) is that God creates fantastic new living things: plants, fish, birds, animals; and asks Adam what he would like to name each one as He does so. Adam has a function in creation, of giving name and meaning to what God creates.

God also gives the man a choice between two trees in the center of the garden that would determine his destiny. The man could eat of the tree of life and live forever (though no mention is made of that option expressed to him), or eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil — and die that day.

Choice. Now whether you take this account literally or allegorically, that point is indisputable. The man could choose to obey or not. This was real choice, life-or-death choice, and it comes in the simplest terms available.

But in those days that followed, there was one thing not good: the man was alone. God was not alone; had never been alone. (The Hebrew word for “God” in the creation account is actually plural, elohim … “Gods.”) His Spirit had hovered over the waters at the beginning (Genesis 1:1-2) and the Word was with Him and was Him and everything was made through Him and for Him (John 1:1-4) — and the Word would one day be named “Jesus” (14-16). Yet the man was alone, and God formed Eve for Adam from his very own side, to be at his side, and to be the mother of all living. You can’t have “mankind” without a mom.

After all things are named and the couple are settling in, they are naked before God because they have no knowledge of good and evil and therefore no shame — they only know God and the goodness He has created and provided.

That gives the Accuser an opportunity — to provide another point of view, to lie, to create doubt, to tempt … and to ruin, destroy and eventually kill. He strikes at their innocence; their Achilles heel.

Why is that choice provided by God? Why was the temptation permitted?

God is love. Love is choice. Real choice. Life-or-death choice. The Accuser had made this choice, and chose self … and in Eden, God has created a crucible of choice to vindicate His love for (and goodness toward) others against the Accuser’s selfish desire and evil intent toward others.

At some point in the future, the Word would become flesh and receive the name “Jesus” (“God saves!”) and fully vindicate with a crushing blow to the Accuser’s head, destroying death once and for all.

That’s my take. It may be pure speculation, but — as I have said in other contexts — it fits all the known facts and I think William of Occam would be willing to shave with it.

You don’t have to agree with me. We’ll still be siblings in Christ if you believe but disagree with me.

But this view of the creation account makes a lot of sense to me … and makes a lot of other things in scripture make more sense.

Do me a personal favor. Before you write it off or fly into paragraphs of objections, think about it for a couple of days. Read the account again. Study it. Pray about it. Ask God for clarity on the matter.

Then feel free to leave a comment, okay?

It’s not like this all came to me in seven days, you know.

The Plan

/ W. Keith Brenton / 1 Comment

I have never really been a fan of James Cameron’s The Abyss (1989), but as someone who grew up yearning to watch Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (on at the same time evening worship started on Sundays) and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (Disney’s World of Color, same time, different channel), I had high hopes when I went to see it.

Not sure anyone emerged from the chilly theater as a fan, but the movie had moments. Most James Cameron flicks do.

The one that resonated with me (to the best of my recollection)?

Trapped in a deep undersea sub-structure rapidly filling with icy water, oil rigman Virgil and estranged wife Lindsey are trying to come up with a plan to get both of them over to an airtight compartment back on the rig hundreds of yards away. He still loves her passionately; she has shown only cold contempt for him. He is wearing a wet suit; she is not.  And the minisub is a wrecked piece of junk:

Lindsey: Please, listen! Just listen to me for one second. Now you’ve got the suit on, and you’re a much better swimmer than I am, right?
Virgil: [reluctantly] Yeah, maybe…
Lindsey: Right? Yes! So I’ve got a plan.
Virgil: What’s the plan?
Lindsey: I drown, and you tow me back to the rig.
Virgil: No. No!
Lindsey: Yes! This water…
Virgil: NO!
Lindsey: …is only a couple degrees above freezing! I g-go into deep hypothermia, my blood’ll go like ice water, right? My body systems will slow down, they won’t stop…
Virgil: Linds…
Lindsey: You tow me back and I can, I can be revived after, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Ten-fifteen minutes!
Virgil: [pushing the suit collar at her] Linds, you put this on, you put it on!
Lindsey: [pushing the collar back at him] No, it’s the only way! Just put this on! Put this on, you know I’m right. Please, it’s the only way, you’ve got all the s-stuff on the rig to do this! Put this on, Bud, please…
Virgil: [putting the collar back on] This is insane.
Lindsey: Oh my God, I know. But it’s the only way.

Maybe it’s not the only way; after all, I didn’t get to see all of those scientifically-stoked hours of Voyage and Leagues. Maybe it’s just a few hokey moments of pretty good melodrama in an otherwise immemorable movie.

Granted.

But the scene resonsates with me because I have always wondered how the conversation in heaven took place where The Plan was formulated. You know: The Plan.

We can theorize and argue all we want to about atonement theories, but when we intellectualize the subject, we fail to to address and experience the raw emotion of The Plan.

The Father will have to abandon His beloved Son in ultimate anguish. The Son will have to suffer in indescribable physical pain. And die, trusting the Father who has turned His back on the sin borne by the Son. And the Son must stay dead for three days. And then be resurrected, to a whole new and different kind of body, apparently.

Somehow, among all the nice, systematic, logical theories we can muster, The Plan turns out to be the only way.

It is the only way we can be revived from asphyxiation while drowning in icy sin.