Things That Have Recently Baffled Me

Today, it was over ninety degrees outside, and I kept my air-conditioner on the whole day. Winter ends in three weeks.

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The sports commentators are going crazy over the basketball player Andre Karilinkov’s wife. She evidently told the press that she allows her husband to cheat on her one time per year with one woman. I’ve so far seen nine sports commentators praise her as the greatest wife ever, “a woman whose face should be carved onto the Mount Rushmore of Wives.” The story broke last Wednesday, and the first such commentator I saw lauding this model of generosity had ashes on his forehead.

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Jimmy Carter recently said, “I worship the Prince of Peace, not the prince of pre-emptive war.” In response, Fox News ran a fifteen-minute segment on how Carter’s faith is fraudulent because such statements show that he is working against American values.

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About a month ago, a blind, overweight, and ill seventy-five-year-old man who was to be executed in California requested that authorities not revive him if he were to have another heart attack before his execution date so that he would die naturally and not have to go through the execution. The authorities denied his request saying, “At no point are we not going to value the sanctity of life. We would resuscitate him.” They executed him on January 18th.

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Evidently, according to one of the men in our church, Christ and his apostles and all of the first-century Christians, were not actually drinking wine all of those times it’s mentioned in the Bible. It was really grape juice. Grape juice wasn’t really invented in the nineteenth century after all.

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I heard this story at church the other night.

‘Ol’ sister Pollard used to read the Bible just a little each day. One day she said to me, “I just finished the Bible for the fourth time this year.” She just kept at it. When she got old, she went into the nursing home, and one day, she came to church—it was right before she died—and she looked horrible. I could see that she wasn’t feeling well, and I asked, “Sister Pollard, why did you come to church if you’re feeling so bad?” And she replied, “Honestly, I was afraid not to come?”’

The story was told as though it were a good one.