http://theologynetwork.org/blog/feedxml/ ItÂ’s often been in taverns, with a cosy drink to hand, that the best theology has been done – take CambridgeÂ’s White Horse Inn, from which the Reformation spread through England. Carrying on the tradition, welcome to The Merrie Theologiane! Here we believe that good theology is not something dry and dusty. Good theologians are a merry breed. Why? The good theologian chuckles at how absurdly good the gospel of Jesus is. He laughs, because he doesnÂ’t take himself too seriously. And he knows the power of a good giggle: tittering at what tempts him robs it of its power. So donÂ’t be a pompous ass. Be a merrie theologiane! To help you chortle through all your theology, each month weÂ’ll introduce you to some more merrie theologie. Copyright 2008 UCCF: The Christian Unions Christianity en-uk UCCF: The Christian Unions no Copyright 2008 UCCF: The Christian UnionsJesus,God,Gospel,UCCF, Christian,Union,Church,UCCF,Theology,Bible,uccf:thechristianunionsReligion & Spirituality/Christianitywebmaster@theologynetwork.orgUCCF: The Chrstian UnionsJesus,God,Gospel,UCCF, Christian,Union,Church,UCCF,Theology,Bible,uccf:thechristianunionsItÂ’s often been in taverns, with a cosy drink to hand, that the best theology has been done – take CambridgeÂ’s White Horse Inn, from which the Reformation spread through England. Carrying on the tradition, welcome to The Merrie Theologiane! Here we ItÂ’s often been in taverns, with a cosy drink to hand, that the best theology has been done – take CambridgeÂ’s White Horse Inn, from which the Reformation spread through England. Carrying on the tradition, welcome to The Merrie Theologiane! Here we believe that good theology is not something dry and dusty. Good theologians are a merry breed. Why? The good theologian chuckles at how absurdly good the gospel of Jesus is. He laughs, because he doesnÂ’t take himself too seriously. And he knows the power of a good giggle: tittering at what tempts him robs it of its power. So donÂ’t be a pompous ass. Be a merrie theologiane! To help you chortle through all your theology, each month weÂ’ll introduce you to some more merrie theologie. http://theologynetwork.org/blog/feedxml/http://theologynetwork.org/Images/feeds/Blog_Merrie-Theologiane.jpg ‘What a bubbling fountain of humour Mr. Spurgeon had!  I laughed more, I verily believe, when in his company than during all the rest of my life besides.’  ThatÂ’s what people said about Charles Spurgeon, the nineteenth century ‘prince of preachersÂ’ http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/a-merry-heart-doeth-good-like-a-medicine ‘What a bubbling fountain of humour Mr. Spurgeon had!  I laughed more, I verily believe, when in his company than during all the rest of my life besides.’  ThatÂ’s what people said about Charles Spurgeon, the nineteenth century ‘prince of preachersÂ’.    A 19th century cigarette card of Spurgeon.  The text reads: ‘When I have found intense pain relieved, a weary brain soothed, and calm refreshing sleep obtained by a Cigar, I have felt grateful to God and have blessed His name.Â’ There was laughter everywhere with Spurgeon, too much so for some.  Someone once complained about all the gags in his sermons, to which Spurgeon said ‘He would not blame me if he only knew how many of them I keep back.Â’ His love of cigars provided a steady stream of giggles.  While he would enjoy a cigar en route to his church so as to prepare his throat, others felt this to be unchristian behaviour.  ‘Mr Spurgeon, tobacco is the devil!Â’ said one outraged contemporary.  ‘Yes, thatÂ’s why I burn it!Â’ replied the preacher.  (Lest the reader is worried, he once told a fellow preacher that if ever he smoked excessively, he would quit smoking immediately.  The suspicious colleague asked ‘What would you call smoking to excess?’  ‘Why, smoking two cigars at the same timeÂ’, replied Spurgeon.) Such humour was an effective way of bringing to the surface the real issues in the people around him.  One day, for instance, a rather pompous gentlemen loudly exclaimed to his face ‘Mr Spurgeon, I don't agree with you about religion; I am an agnostic.’  ‘Yes!Â’ he replied, ‘that is a Greek word, and the exact equivalent is ignoramus; if you like to claim that title, you are quite welcome to.Â’ At other times, there wasnÂ’t much of a reason, he just enjoyed the joke.  During a heated few months when he debated some theologians who believed in baptismal regeneration, he quietly had a baptismal font installed in his back garden as a birdbath.  ‘The spoils of warÂ’, he called it All this is made rather pertinent by the fact that Spurgeon used to suffer from terrible attacks of melancholy.  More than anything else, his humour was a weapon for his own heart.  He knew the truth of Proverbs 17:22.  As he put it when preaching on Philippians 4:4, ‘I want you to notice, dear friends, that this rejoicing is commanded. It is not a matter that is left to your option.... You are commanded to rejoice, brethren, because this is for your profit.’  Thu, 25 Sep 2008 16:26:02 +0100 56E-DA4-A64-4BF- Today in theological debate, mentioning Adam and Eve is likely to get you into discussion about the interpretation of Genesis 1, the age of the earth, or whether the Fall was a real historical event. There was a time, however, when youÂ’d have been p http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/navel-or-no Today in theological debate, mentioning Adam and Eve is likely to get you into discussion about the interpretation of Genesis 1, the age of the earth, or whether the Fall was a real historical event. There was a time, however, when youÂ’d have been pinned to the wall by your sparring partner and forced to declare your position on the thorny issue of whether or not Adam and Eve had navels.  While Monks spent time literally 'navel gazing' over the puzzle in the quiet of their monasteries, fierce rival factions warred outside over what they took to be a key theological battleground. When Michelangelo painted Adam with a navel on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, he was labelled a heretic by some theologians.  In 1646, Sir Thomas Browne an English philosopher published his Pseudodoxia Epidemica in which a whole chapter was dedicated to the evils of ‘Pictures of Adam and Eve with NavelsÂ’, describing it a ‘vulgar errorÂ’. Michelangelo dares to paint Adam's navel on the roof of the Sistine Chapel.  The opposite team argued hard for Adam and EveÂ’s belly buttons, laughing-off accusations that they must have pictured God with one since the our first parents were made in His image. Unfortunately, this group had to deal with some internal politics as three distinct camps emerged; the pre-umbilicists, mid-umbilicists, and post-umbilicists.  The first group assumed that Adam and Eve were created with navels (usually in order to give the appearance of prior history, solving the infamous chicken and egg connundrum); the second posited that surely AdamÂ’s navel was created when the Lord removed his rib to create Eve, and Eve went without; the third places the umbilicus on the pair after the Fall as a reminder that theyÂ’d been severed from the Lord, just as a child would be severed from his mother at birth. The debate over whether Adam and EveÂ’s navels were intrusions (innies) or protrusions (outies) is still simmering in theology faculties around the country. Thu, 28 Aug 2008 10:32:52 +0100 56E-DA4-A64-4BF- Tertullian, the great North African theologian writing around 200 AD, was like a cross between Bruce Banner and Oscar Wilde: scary enough that you didnÂ’t want to get on the wrong side of him, and very, very funny. Tertullian, ready either to explo http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/armed-to-the-teeth-with-laughter Tertullian, the great North African theologian writing around 200 AD, was like a cross between Bruce Banner and Oscar Wilde: scary enough that you didnÂ’t want to get on the wrong side of him, and very, very funny. Tertullian, ready either to explode or write a 'Knock! Knock!' joke. Tertullian chuckled so much it disturbed people.  First of all, he used to laugh at how simple – in fact, how absurdly simple – truth is, meaning it takes a humble mind to recognise it.  Once, he put it like this: ‘The Son of God was crucified: I am not ashamed, because it is shameful. The Son of God died: it is immediately credible, because it is silly. He was buried, and rose again: it is certain,  because it is impossible.Â’   Fighting talk for those who reasoned God couldnÂ’t become man, nor three be one! But he also used to laugh at the absurdity of false belief.  This was quite appropriate, he reckoned: ‘There are many things which deserve refutation in such a way as to have no gravity expended on them. Vain and silly topics are met with especial fitness by laughter. Even the truth may indulge in ridicule, because it is jubilant; it may play with its enemies, because it is fearless. Only we must take care that its laughter be not unseemly, and so itself be laughed at; but wherever its mirth is decent, there it is a duty to indulge it.Â’ Marcion was a heretic to be given exactly such treatment.  Marcion, reasoning that Jesus was God, felt he had to deny that Jesus was fully human.  Tertullian reckoned this merely proved that Marcion himself was not fully human, because he must be lacking a brain.  Tertullian thought he probably had a pumpkin instead, meaning Marcion was half-man, half-fruit. He dished out such lines because he believed they were just the sort of jolt the pompous heretics, puffed up with all their pretentious ‘profundityÂ’, needed.  And, especially for dealing with those who denied JesusÂ’ humanity (and so were a bit inhuman themselves), it was a very human way of arguing.   Perhaps PC means we canÂ’t be like Tertullian any more (or like Paul in Galatians 5:12).  Or is it that PC, bone-dry theology is itself a bit half-man, half-fruit? Wed, 11 Jun 2008 16:04:51 +0100 56E-DA4-A64-4BF- Reading different versions of the bible can be a good thing. But sometimes it can be quite surprising. Read Psalm 91:5 in the Coverdale Bible of 1535 and youÂ’ll find ‘Thou shall not nede to be afrayed for eny bugges by nightÂ’ (‘bugÂ’ meant ‘someth http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/bibles-worth-burning--- Reading different versions of the bible can be a good thing. But sometimes it can be quite surprising. Read Psalm 91:5 in the Coverdale Bible of 1535 and youÂ’ll find ‘Thou shall not nede to be afrayed for eny bugges by nightÂ’ (‘bugÂ’ meant ‘something terrifyingÂ’).  Bored or naughty typesetters, however, once forced bible readers to be much more wary: In the 1562 edition of the Geneva Bible, Matthew 5:9 read ‘Blessed are the placemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.’  A 1716 edition of the King James Bible has Jesus say ‘sin on moreÂ’ in John 5:14, rather than ‘sin no moreÂ’.  A 1795 edition had Jesus say in Mark 7:27 ‘Let the children first be killedÂ’ instead of ‘Let the children first be filledÂ’. Probably the worst mistakes, however, were made in the 1631 and 1653 ‘Wicked BiblesÂ’.  In the 1653 edition, 1 Corinthians 6:9 read ‘the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of GodÂ’ and the 1631 edition had the seventh commandment as ‘Thou shalt commit adultery.’  The bibles were ordered to be burned, and the sloppy (one hopes it was just sloppiness) printer fined a then-hefty £300. In the Charing Cross Bible of 1651, the bored typesetter replaced Ezekiel 48:5 with the following rant: ‘I amme sick to mye Hart of typesettinge... I telle you, onne daye laike this Ennyone with half an oz. of Sense should bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the livelong daie inn this mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workeshoppe.’  It also included the following three extra verses at the end of Genesis 3: 25. And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee? 26. And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next. 27. And the Lord did not ask him again. Unlike the ‘Wicked BiblesÂ’, however, the Charing Cross Bible was (after painstaking research) proved to be a forgery.   Wed, 07 May 2008 11:44:36 +0100 56E-DA4-A64-4BF- The old Puritans arenÂ’t generally known for their rollicking laughs; yet when it came to naming their children, they seemed to have the most roguish sense of humour.  Not satisfied with biblical names, some sought to give their children whole bible v http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/those-priceless-puritans The old Puritans arenÂ’t generally known for their rollicking laughs; yet when it came to naming their children, they seemed to have the most roguish sense of humour.  Not satisfied with biblical names, some sought to give their children whole bible verses or edifying slogans for Christian names: ‘Job-Raked-Out-Of-The-Ashes,Â’ ‘Search-The-Scriptures,Â’ or ‘Fly-FornicationÂ’ for example.  Surely no child could be so-named with a straight face. Perhaps the best-known example was ‘Praise-GodÂ’ Barebone, a member of the Nominated Assembly in CromwellÂ’s day. Praise-God Barebone ‘Praise-GodÂ’ got off lightly, though – his brother was called ‘Christ-Came-Into-The-World-To-SaveÂ’ Barebone.  Nevertheless, he decided to exact his revenge on his son, naming him ‘ Unless-Jesus-Christ-Had-Died-For-Thee-Thou-Hadst-Been-DamnedÂ’ Barebone.  Unsurprisingly, people found it easier to refer to the son simply as ‘DamnedÂ’ Barebone. Yet, for some reason, ‘DamnedÂ’ preferred to be known as Nicholas, and it is under that name that he founded LondonÂ’s first fire insurance company and fire brigade If youÂ’d like some more Puritan advice in naming your child, maybe one of the following can inspire you: No-Merit Sorry-For-Sin More-Trial Small-Hope Kill-Sin Fight-The-Good-Fight-Of-Faith Tue, 25 Mar 2008 11:15:00 +0000 56E-DA4-A64-4BF- Some of most rib-tickling theologians of all were the ‘holy foolsÂ’ of the 6th century, who behaved foolishly so as to defy the conventions of the sinful world.  Perhaps the most famous was Simeon the Fool. Simeon the Fool (as he never looked) He http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/what-a-fool Some of most rib-tickling theologians of all were the ‘holy foolsÂ’ of the 6th century, who behaved foolishly so as to defy the conventions of the sinful world.  Perhaps the most famous was Simeon the Fool. Simeon the Fool (as he never looked) He famously began his ministry of folly by entering the city of Emessa (dragging a dead dog behind him) and mimicking JesusÂ’ healing of the blind man.  Jesus had used saliva and clay on the manÂ’s eyes; but when a man suffering from leucoma in both eyes approached Simeon, he anointed the manÂ’s eyes with mustard, burning him and so aggravating his condition that he went completely blind.  The rest of his ministry consisted of streaking in the circus, tripping people up, and consuming vast amounts of beans on solemn fast days – with predictable and hilarious results.  During church services, he would pelt the priests with nuts and blow out the candles; at other times he would drag himself around on his buttocks, punch adulterers, eat raw meat and defecate in public.  Simeon was understandably revered by many (and was later canonised as a saint); yet when he ran naked into the crowded womenÂ’s section of the bath-house and jumped in to join them, he was promptly beaten and thrown out by the women, who suspected that perhaps he was not as foolish as he pretended.  Simeon has inspired many people down through history, men such as Basil the Fool and John the Hairy, and is widely followed today. Wed, 20 Feb 2008 15:52:55 +0000 56E-DA4-A64-4BF- The good theologian chuckles at how absurdly good the gospel of Jesus is. He laughs, because he doesnÂ’t take himself too seriously. And he knows the power of a good giggle: tittering at what tempts him robs it of its power. So donÂ’t be a pompous as http://theologynetwork.org/merrie-theologiane/pull-up-a-chair-next-to-martin-luther The good theologian chuckles at how absurdly good the gospel of Jesus is. He laughs, because he doesnÂ’t take himself too seriously. And he knows the power of a good giggle: tittering at what tempts him robs it of its power. So donÂ’t be a pompous ass. Be a merrie theologiane! Luther knew how to be merry: at home, Luther had his own bowling alley (he loved bowling – heÂ’s said to be the guy who standardised the rules, fixing the number of pins at nine); he even had his own brewery.  Much of the Reformation in Germany stemmed from Luther having people over for dinner.  He had people over the whole time.  And over supper theyÂ’d talk theology: sometimes it was justification, sometimes the theology of farting.  For example: “I resist the devil, and often it is with a fart that I chase him away.  When he tempts me with silly sins I say, ‘Devil, yesterday I broke wind too.  Have you written it down on your list?’” Clearly the DevilÂ’s taunts werenÂ’t so bad after that!  Fancy some more?  Laugh your way through this most rip-roaring read:   Thu, 24 Jan 2008 14:37:09 +0000 56E-DA4-A64-4BF-