غ ن يAcademic institutions, like religious institutions, are metropolitan in nature, gathering where the Scriptural God scatters. They are the elephant whose snout hoards knowledge for the tyrants of the earth like the Egyptian scribes (Genesis 41:8), inscribing their will with an iron stylus on the foreskins of human hearts, concealing them from God (The Eucharist, 270). The psychē (ψυχή) fights against God by clinging to the sarx (σάρξ), desperately struggling to shut out the pneuma (πνεῦμα) with all its might, concealing the uncircumcised heart from the Almighty God under cover of the circumcision of human institutions. Oh yes, Hellenists love the psyche. It’s what they “turn” (to) and in, epistrephein (ἐπιστρέφειν, Corinthians 3:16), away from him, spinning as they spin their rejection of the sufficiency of God. It’s the source of all they talk about on their podcasts. They gather it up in their communities to meditate on it and its endless crisis of “loneliness.” (2 Timothy 3:2–4) “If only they knew.” (Qurʾan, Sūrat al-ʿAnkabūt سورة العنكبوت “The Spider” 29:64) But God, in his sufficiency, is all seeing and all knowing, and their schemes will fail. Each moment in life, each kairos, each encounter with the unseen God in the crossing of neighbors in the ʿarabah terrifies the human institution, because the crossing presents each living, breathing soul with a divine uncovering, and the possibility of a revelation: we do not need the institutions. We never did. It’s ironic. The academy will insist it exists to question, to challenge and to tear down, but of its nature a building is incapable of the apostle’s turning in his withering, let alone the prophet’s birth-pains. Yes, they critique, but not to tear down, one stone from another. No. They critique in order to build their artificial mother. Their blasphemous alma mater. “Because they disbelieved and uttered terrible slander against Mary.” (Qurʾan, Sūrat al-Nisāʾ سورة النساء “The Women” 4:156) Yet, “God is not mocked” (Galatians 6:7), for everyone knows that milk sweetened with chemicals is toxic. Well, not everyone. Against them, and all who are like them, the Abrahamic scriptures neither build nor synthesize. They present no dogma. People who “read” them do, of course. That’s how we end up with buildings and tribes, which all three scrolls summarily condemn. Instead, what these texts offer is a method for hearing and seeing in daily living, so that each of us can hear how to walk our path in this life. Indeed, God, who is the source of all knowledge, has assigned a path for each of us, and this life is your test. Only you can hear and see what he has presented for you to understand, for your sake. It is your test. On that day, you have no advocate but yourself and no recourse but him. The sooner you stop covering your ears and hiding behind your eyes; the sooner you open your heart to his instruction, the better your chance of receiving his gift with empty hands. God has assigned a lesson for you in your brief time on earth, which, as the song says, is as “but a dream.” True knowledge does not come from men. It comes directly from him, and Scripture is a guide on the path through his wilderness. Unlike human institutions which traffic in recycled human words, Scripture offers only the witness—the martyrdom—of the unseen, of the done-unto by God, who stand by you on the path, bearing witness to your witness to his divine words. And the words are signs along that path to help you find your way, as you uncover the test he has prepared for you, which is yours and yours alone. The Bible was not written to establish anything. It was written to keep the path open, for your sake, so that nothing would ever stand in between you and God on the path, before the time, until the time he shall judge the living and the dead; and of his kingdom, there shall be no end. This week, I discuss Luke 9:38 ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★
