Can’t Consecrate Your Church without a Relic, Sir

    I met the relic merchant Jacob Spatharios in Ephesus. He had a little shop there then. He’s had to relocate several times since then – always ready to pick up and head on down the road a ways to set up a new shop in a new location, under a new name. But at the time he had quite an assortment of relics and other religious oddments for sale at his little shop in Ephesus. And all of them were, according to the hand lettered sign in the window, “Guaranteed thaumaturgically effective or your money back.”

    He had on display the foot and comb of the cock that crowed before Peter’s denial of the Christ. He had Pontius Pilate’s pinky decoder ring – used to decode and translate secret communiques and dispatches from Rome. He had the beak of Phillip’s pet cuttlefish, Saint Helveticas’ earlobe, Saint Albedo’s reflection, and Zerubbabel’s trowel and plumb-bob. He even showed me a bottle of Noah’s wine – once considered a very fine vintage. He declined to offer me a taste saying that it had long since turned to vinegar. ¹

    “Can’t consecrate your church without a relic, sir,” he told me, “not since the second council of Nicaea in the year 787.” He told me this as he offered a bicuspid from Hugh of Lincoln for my inspection. Hugh of Lincoln had once himself bitten the ulna bone of Mary Magdalene. He also showed me a chunk of stone which had been scored with teeth marks. “Count Fulk of Anjou went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem some years ago. In the holy sepulcher he knelt at the tomb of Christ and bit off a piece of the stone with his own teeth. He carried this bit of stone away and now, after a circuitous route and many exciting exploits that are too strange to be believed, sir, it has come to me and I offer to you. And at a significant discount. I’m practically giving it to you. It would make a fine cornerstone for the construction of any new church, sir.” But I waved it aside.

    “What’s this,” I asked as I picked up a plank of wood, “a board from Noah’s ark?”

    “No sir,” he said smiling, “everyone’s got a bit of Noah’s ark these days, just like everyone has a piece of the 'True Cross.' You’re right to be a little suspicious as there are many devious salesmen who would take your money and sell you the purported foreskin of Jesus, which would prove to be nothing more than a bit of dried bit of bacon. But you can trust me, sir. I wouldn’t lie to you. That there, sir, is an actual timber used in the scaffolding during the construction of the Tower of Babel.”

    I looked at him in disbelief.

    “It’s true, sir. I stole it myself.”

    “You stole it?”

    “Yes, sir. Noble trade it is, our relic thieving. Furta Sacra, if you like. The hero of the trade is a monk named Felix who once carried off the remains of Saints Agapitus, Cecilia, Columbana and several others. Me own da’, who was never quite so renowned as that lucky monk, once stole a pair of Fatima’s earrings from the basilica in Tyre.”

    “Fatima’s earrings,” I wondered aloud. “I thought these were Christian artifacts.”

    “They are sir, finest in the region. Did I say Fatima? I’m sorry, sir. It must have been mislabeled by the novices in Tyre. Them there were Joan of Arc’s earrings. Simple mistake, sir. But no harm done, right? No harm done. You know what they say, sir. The relics of the saints that the Lord has provided for us gush with fragrant oil.”

    He whisked the earrings out of sight into one of the many hidden pockets of his voluminous robe and, in the same motion, drew out a sachet bag. “What?” I asked. “And what is that?”

    “Is it unbelievable, good sir, that if God poured water out of a rock in the desert and for thirsty Samson in the desert, provided water from the jawbone of an ass, is it unbelievable that fragrant oil should pour out from the relics of the saints?”

    He paused and smiled, then with a flourish displayed the sachet bag to me. “This, my friend, is what remains of Saint Polycarp. After his death by fire, my great-grandfather Nicetes who was captain of the guard, pleaded with the magistrates to allow him gather up the ashes and bones that remained and to take them to a suitable place where they could be venerated by the faithful. But, truth be told,” he said as he glanced out the window, scanning the street in both directions, “I don’t actually have a license to deal in the holy artifacts. There was a slight… mistake with the paperwork. But for you I will make a special deal.”

    “I don’t see any oil,” I told him. He frowned and removed the sachet bag from view.

    Jacob Spatharios had many other relics and wonders in his shop but the objects that fascinated me that morning as I stood among the clutter of curios were a carefully folded handkerchief (stained with sweat) and an apron which were once owned and used by the apostle Paul. Jacob claimed that touching them to the sick and infirm would cure them of their illnesses and expel their demons. I might have purchased one or two of them for myself but I was skeptical of Spatharios’ thaumaturgical guarantee -and more than a little leery of his lack of licensure. The netherworld of the shadowy relic and antiquities market recognizes no borders and flouts all legalities and rules, ignores academics and scientific researchers. I don’t trust them.

    “What’ll it be, then?” Jacob asked ready for a sale. “The handkerchief? The apron? Something from the back room, perhaps. Something reserved for discerning customers such as yourself, sir?” he said with a disturbing leer.

    But I declined to purchase anything from his shop. His collection of curious was certainly curious, but however charged those items might have once been with the uncanny charisma and supernatural power when I saw them in Spatharios’ display cabinets they were old and inert – mere physical objects from the past, reminders of what could be, dead remainders of what the living God can do.

1Jacob Spatharios also had an extensive collection of documents and papers of religious import – ancient texts in a cardboard box pressed between recent pages of the daily newspaper - including the one hundred sixteen pages lost from the original Book of Mormon, the first draft of the so-called “Salamander Letter” and the “Satanic verses” purged from the words of the prophet (peace be upon him). These were all very suspect and I did not look long at them.

 Acts 19. 11-12

Dream Police and Rêv Conditioning

    “What am I going to do? I’ll be marked for Rêv Conditioning for sure. It’s illicit dreaming. A 0180 infraction with repeat modifiers.”

    “What are you talking about, Jeff?”

    “I’ve been dreaming about Shay – a woman that I work with.”

    “Multiple occasions?”

    “Three times now. The first time I dreamt that she pulled open her blouse to show me her new bra, but I recognized it as one of my ex-wife’s brassieres.”

    “That is strange. And the second?”

    “We – Shay and I – were at a museum together when her husband showed up to accuse me of having an affair with her. In the dream she defended me, saying that it wasn’t true – even though she knew, in the dream, I did in fact want to have an affair with her.”

    “And the third?”

    “The third was just the opposite. She was cold me, refused to speak to me or to look at me. And when I asked if I’d offended her in some way she said ‘Nothing.’”

    “She wouldn’t answer you?”

    “No. I asked if I’d offended her and she answered only with the word ‘Nothing.’”

    “It sounds as if you’re right to be concerned about the Dream Police.”

    Agents of the Imperial Dream Police smear a thin layer of ectoplasm over their naked bodies which acts as both an aphrodisiac gel and as an infiltration serum. This, along with the nictitating membranes that cover their eyes, allows them to slip into the unconscious sights and sounds of your sleep and dreams. And the sodium thiopental they secrete from their pores allows them to see through the absurdities of the dream and to know the truth of your reveries. They are weird figures dressed in white suits and dark-faced transparent helmets, communicating in grunts, clicks, and whistles.

    Dreams are great magicians, conjuring up fully formed and vanishing locomotives on their way to purgatory, poisoned uteruses, and piles of eggs stacked in the corner of the room.

    It all seems rather obvious in the light of the new morning, I suppose. Hardly even worth writing about. But if we accept the interpretive principle that we are each individual within our dreams, these rather commonplace dreams might become somewhat more revelatory. I don’t know what to think about that. I don’t know if I want to think about that. There’s too much bleeding in the Red Zone City to worry about a nightmare of knives and ex-wives.

    There will be no telephone apologies, only bad dreams. And I cannot worry about the Dream Police right now. Politicians may be able to get away with that sort of lack of concern – and not just in dreams, in waking life too. But me? Not so much. The Dream Police don’t care what the dreams mean. Symbols are arbitrary. Signifier and signified are both fluid- there’s no enduring link between the two. Meaning is irrelevant to their procedures. There’s too much else going on.

    And the Dream Police are jealous of their magic.

What This is This? (Acts 4: 1-12)

    Some of you – those of you who see my Facebook posts, or who have read my books perhaps, may have figured out that I have strong opinions. And that I am not afraid or ashamed to put them out to the public. I am somewhat outside the political mainstream. Not a Republican. Not a Democrat. But something other. I’m not much of a patriot. I’m a pacifist. Radical? Maybe. Troublemaker? Not intentionally. I’m not afraid of conflict, but conflict is not my goal but it’s often there.

    This distinction, however, has been lost sometimes. I was kicked out of seminary after the Principal decided he needed to break me of my ‘rebellious spirit.’ And after having been restored and ordained, I spent twenty years at odds with the administration of my denomination. Consistently under review and frequently on probation. I was scrutinized. I was mentored and monitored.

    So – I chuckle a bit when I’m trusted with today’s pericope, with its theological and political uproar. Peter and John causing a public disturbance. Confrontation with the political and religious authorities – it sounds like my life.

    We’re continuing the story that began with the healing Pastor Mark discussed last week, when Peter and John at the Beautiful Gate saw the man born lame – “Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have I give unto thee – in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.” I must have memorized that verse as a boy; I still hear it in the King James Version.

    And that man went walking and leaping and praising God into the Temple.

    Following the miraculous healing of the man born lame, Peter and John launched into an extemporaneous sermon about crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus – which had occurred in the most recent days, and how faith in this risen Jesus is what restored the crippled man to health, and how “it was for you in the first place that God raised up his servant Jesus and sent him to bless you as every one of you turns from his wicked ways.”

    And then comes the repression. Then comes the suppression. The priests and the captain of the guard and members of the Sadducees were annoyed by Peter and John’s teaching - specifically about the resurrection of the dead – and arrested Peter and John and put them in prison overnight.

    What reason? What charges? Pffffffft. We don’t need reason. We don’t need charges.

    The next day Peter and John were hauled before the court to explain themselves. “By what power and by whose name have you done this?” There are no charges listed. There are no offenses. But Peter and John are called upon to justify their actions. By what power and by whose name have you done this, the leaders asked.

    So here’s the question. What this is this?

    “Are we being arrested for this act of kindness?” Peter asked “Are you asking us about an act of kindness to a crippled man and asking us how he was healed?” Are we being detained because we acted with kindness and compassion to someone in need?

    And this sounds like a bit of the hyperbole of the absurd. Surely you wouldn’t arrest us and put us in the cells overnight because of an act of kindness. That’s absurd. Right? In what world would that make sense?

    But in our world today it’s less an absurd notion than maybe we’d like to think; when public figures are deriding kindness and empathy as the curse and ruination of Western Civilization. “I can’t stand the word empathy” said one such figure. “I think empathy is a made up, new-age term that does a lot of damage.” (Charlie Kirk)

    Kindness will not be tolerated in much of the world these days – especially in places where it is needed most. Consider the fact that over 400 humanitarian workers have been killed in Gaza since the outbreak of that war – that genocide. Doctors and rescue workers have been targeted by snipers and bombed by airstrikes, even when they’ve been traveling in clearly marked ambulances or UN vehicles. Food and medical supplies are denied to the population within the war zone. Kindness will not be tolerated there.

    So, no. It’s no longer the hyperbole of the absurd to ask if we’re being arrested for an act of kindness.

    Perhaps Peter and John were arrested for a difference of theological doctrine?

    To understand here we need to recognize that there were a number of divisions within the Judaism of that day (as there are today, and as there are divisions within Christianity as well). There were the Pharisees -with whom Jesus and his followers frequently clashed (and with whom Jesus and his followers actually shared many similarities) and there were the Sadducees – who were generally from the aristocratic class. There were also the Essenes and later, the Zealots, and other shades and varieties. The faith was not monolithic.

    The Sadducees believed only the five books of Moses to be morally authoritative scripture while the Pharisees gave equal weight to the psalms and the prophets. The Sadducees disbelieved in angels and spiritual beings; the Pharisees saw them everywhere. But the big difference between the Pharisees and the Sadducees was on the doctrine of the resurrection. The Pharisees believed in the resurrection of the dead, while the Sadducees dismissed it as a relatively new theological innovation.

    Were Peter and John arrested because of their proclamation of the promise of resurrection in the person of Jesus of Nazareth? It’s very likely that it figured into the Sadducees decision to have them arrested. They may not have liked the proclamation of a doctrine they considered repugnant, but the Sadducees were typically tolerant of the other branches of Judaism.

    Peter and John were warned off from making further public disturbances – though the author of Acts records no real disturbance here. There were no shouting crowds. No mobs. No violence. If the Sadducees were worried about pushback from the Roman imperialist forces – which was a valid political concern in those troubled days – there doesn’t seem to be any reason for that concern here. If there was a disturbance or an uproar, it was of the Sadducees’ own making.

    What reason? What charges? Pfffft.

    We do not seek trouble. We do not seek conflict. But when mercy is done in the name of Jesus, and when Jesus is proclaimed as risen Lord, trouble may come looking for the church. When acts of mercy and kindness are viewed as dangerous and even criminal, the Church will be in trouble.

    We are not looking for trouble – but we will do the good works. We will act with kindness and charity. We will give of ourselves to others. We will live with empathy for those in need.

    We are not looking for trouble – but we will speak the truth of our convictions – sharing the inclusive love and redemptive life of the risen Christ Jesus with those around us. We will show the world the love of Christ for one and all.

    We are not looking for trouble – but this will probably cause a disturbance.

For a different - comedic - take on this same story: Allegedly

Dear Johnny Pentecost

 

    Dear Johnny Pentecost,

    I am a dedicated rapture watcher for many years now, patiently waiting for the flashes of light that will signal war and the next war and the next rumor of war. I’ve been waiting all summer for the next unannounced system failure – halt and catch fire. Should we soon be hearing the drums and drones of war.

    And what of the coming revival? An illegal sequence before the rapture, no?

    Signed - Anxious in Anticipation

    Dear Anxious,

    Your patience will soon be rewarded. Self-proclaimed prophets will come with unintended instructions, but do not despair. Keep an eye on the skies and keep to the program.

    ***

    Dear Johnny Pentecost,

    I am at my end of my rope. My mother-in-law does not regard the Biblical roles assigned to her. She is not a buzzing, but a roll of thunder in my soul. She opens my mail, personal letters, bills, and account statements alike. She has accused me of adultery fifty times if she has done it once. I have reminded her of her place, but she insists and will not submit. And in all of this, my wife says nothing. Please help.

    Signed – Bitter not Better

    Dear Bitter

    Disrespect begins in the head before it moves into the body. But in this case it has gone beyond and has given birth to the contempt of the unbeliever. It may already be too late for her or for you. You must take her by the arm and afterward by the shoulder and shake once or twice (but not more than thrice.) This will be her correction. In the end, unbelievers like her will receive the necessary correction and discipline. Till then you must instruct her in such things as are true, noble, just, pure, lovely and good report. Do not let her speak.

    ***

    Dear Johnny Pentecost,

    My aunt says that Minneapolis is preparing the way for the Antichrist. Is she wrong or is she just crazy?

    Signed – Confused in Saint Paul

    Dear Confused,

    Your aunt may be closer to the truth than you realize. Minnesota, the land of ten thousand lakes and taxes is a leftist, liberal, communist haven and Minneapolis is Moscow on the Mississippi. Minneapolis’ open embrace of the LGBTQI alphabet army is suggestive prophetically.

    In Daniel we read that “he will show no regard for the gods of his fathers or for the desire of women…” Meaning the Antichrist will not only reject his Christian heritage, he will refuse to submit to a Biblical understanding of sexuality.

    It is not prudent to take Biblical instruction from any woman, even a woman as wise and intelligent as your aunt however, in this case she may not be wrong.

The Pentecost Machine

from Doctor Luke’s Personal Notes (Ananias and Sapphira)

    Though I was not present to witness the deaths of Ananias (“Yahweh is gracious”) or Sapphira (“Beautiful”) and neither did I perform an autopsy on their bodies following, I have been asked by members of the community to address as a doctor and member of the Royal College of Surgeons the peculiarities of their sudden demise and to, if possible, describe the cause (other than the supernatural obvious). The community wants to retain a record of these events, as discreditable as it may be, so that Ananias and Sapphira and their legacy will not be forgotten.

    Ananias: 42-year-old, male with no previous history of heart disease or cardiovascular difficulties and his wife, Sapphira: 30-year-old female with sparkling blue eyes and a clean health history were both suddenly and inexplicably struck dead on the same day, within a few hours of each other.

    The couple had voluntarily sold a piece of property and brought the cash to the apostles as part of the voluntary communalism being put into practice by the Followers of the Way. Ananias reportedly told Peter that the amount he brought in was the full amount of the sale. But when challenged on this, Ananias began to sweat profusely. The apostle Peter described this as a lie not to men, but a lie to the Holy Spirit and asked him, “Wasn’t the property yours to use as you wished? And once sold, wasn’t the money yours to give as you desired? What put this scheme into your head? Your philargyry will not save you. Keep your money. Keep your mammon. Keep your mummery.”

    And with that Ananias fell down dead; he ‘breathed out his soul,’ as one witness described it. A group of young men wrapped the body in a sheet and took it out for burial.

    A few hours later Sapphira came too and was challenged in the same way by Peter. “Listen! You can hear the footsteps of the men who just finished burying your husband returning. They’ll carry you out next.” Immediately she fell down dead like her husband. The group of young men who had just buried her husband, wrapped her in a sheet and buried her body next to that of her husband.

    There are a variety of physical conditions that could have resulted in this sort of sudden death. The sudden onset of excessive sweating could be indicative of a Heart Attack. This “cold sweat” would probably have been accompanied by other symptoms including chest pains and a racing or skipping heartbeat. If their deaths were caused by a Stroke they would have felt a numbness or a prickling sensation in various parts of their body, along with a headache and blurred vision. This is not an uncommon occurrence; deaths caused by strokes are fairly common. Emperor Valentinian died as the result of a stroke precipitated by yelling angrily at a group of foreign envoys. I might have suspected a Pulmonary Embolism but there is no indication that either of them were coughing or that they experienced a bloody or frothy mucus with the coughing. Shigellosis (a bacterial intestinal infection) might be considered except there was not an accompanying diarrhea, fever, abdominal pain, or bloody stool. Neither does an Aortic Rupture seem likely as this would have been accompanied by a sudden loss of blood pressure and a blue tinge to the skin. It may have been a case of Exhaustion as the result of diseased blood vessels in the lungs – but this seems unlikely. There was no trace of either Strychnine, or Prussic Acid, or Opium.

    More exotic diagnoses have been suggested including: Being Struck by Lightning – I read an article in one of the Latin medical journals about an entire football team from The Democratic Republic of the Congo that was simultaneously killed by a bolt of lightning. The old adage, “Lightning never strikes the same place twice” is veritably untrue. It is possible that the couple in question were both killed in the same place by separate lightning strikes. This is strange, but not outside of the realm of fortean possibilities. Or they could have been killed by other articles falling from the sky. A villager in Sulaymaniyah, Iraq was killed by a falling Meteorite, and the Greek playwright Aeschylus was killed by Tortoise dropped by an eagle flying overhead which mistook the author’s bald head for a stone on which to drop and break the tortoise’s shell. It’s true that none of the witnesses mention lightening, meteorites, or tortoises, but these possibilities cannot be completely discounted.

    My sometimes traveling companion, Paul, has often suggested that members of the church who violate the standards and expectations of the community should be Turned Over to Satan for the “destruction of the flesh.” I am not sure what he means by that but it sounds like death to me.

    Psychosomatic or Psychogenic Death (sometimes referred to as “Voodoo Death,” is a parasympathetic backlash of the mind against the strong emotions of fear and terror that is powerful enough to shut down the body. It is possible that the couple were, quite literally, scared to death.

    A skillful physician could, from the color and cast of the skin, make an inferential diagnosis of an illness, but it is impossible at this far removal in both space and time to make any authoritative diagnosis, but it would seem that something incredible and fearful happened here. More than that I would not hazard to say.