My Critique of M. Bird’s “The Fundamentalists War on Wokeness is a War on Christian Love”

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First, he sets the stage with a foul video that his daughter saw as the apparent example of the critique of Wokeness. Interestingly he compare it to a “Mark Driscoll impersonation”, a person strongly embraced by SEBTS leadership at one time.

Then he made a broad, unevaluated claim that “The whole anti-woke and anti-critical race theory trope strike me as not so much interested in opposing progressive authoritarianism and its divisive racial politics as much as it serves to deny ethnic minorities have any grievances and white churches have any responsibility to do anything about it.”

He then aims his rhetorical guns at the sin others he seems to perceive as those opposed to the Woke Movement:

“If you want to talk about evangelical whoring it applies just as easily to churches who have tethered themselves to white supremacy who have fattened their hearts in the days of slaughter who messianize politicians and Caearize Jesus who crave war like a baby craves its mother’s milk who engage in a form of civil religion that combines the worst of racial prejudices with myths of national infallibility.”

And to those he uses terminology, not blatantly offensive as Durbin’s, but in the same rhetorical vein – demonizing those he sees as opposed to what he embraces.

“That evangelical is the false prophet who leads others to bow down and worship the beast with feet made of Darwinian economics legs comprised of corporations and colonies a stomach of moral indifference to the suffering of others arms made of confederacy and misogyny and a head made of the military-industrial complex.”

And lastly he makes the too common charge that those who are opposed to the Woke Movement are ignoring the biblical mandates when in fact they are not – it is the foundational methodology and actions that are being opposed, but he ignores that kind of in depth evaluation and just chooses to paint with a broad condemnatory brush –  

“Let me be clear love of neighbour requires you to be concerned for the just treatment of your neighbour whether they are Black Hispanic First Peoples LGBT migrant Muslim working-class or even Baptist. Any derogation of a Christian’s duty to be concerned about the welfare and just-treatment of their neighbour is an attack on the biblical love command itself.”

I myself know of no one who is opposed to the Woke Movement that is becoming so pervasive in the SBC that is a racist or any other “anti-someone” that he implies. Myself and others who are opposed to the Woke Movement are so because of the clear philosophically flawed underpinnings. We have long recognized the biblical injunction and by and large have lived by it our whole lives with no other motivation than God’s work in our lives and our recognition of the image of God in all. We do so from a biblical foundation and without false motivation and actions that do no more that attempt to make people guilty for things they have not done nor would ever consider doing. He would have done better by very directly and pointedly aiming his critique to Durbin and not broadstroking the whole “Anti-Woke.”

Gift of God

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Little Gift, you were seven days late

And then took 26 hours to make your debut

Blue, Fussing, and, just plain mad you came,

Perfect . . .

Except . . .

You see, without knowing you are seeing

You touch, without knowing you are touching

You eat without knowing you are eating

You smell, without knowing you are smelling

But, your daddy and I love  you

We find just as you are we need you

Want you, Have you.

Little Gift, you are always happy

Are you trying to say silently that you know

            I’m your mother?

Are you aware that the man with the scratchy face and

            Smile is daddy?

Can you know the arms that hold you with love?

What’s that  you do see? Angels floating by!

            With little hands you reach out . . .

Little Gift, you are in God’s hands and you

            couldn’t be safer

But you know that – Don’t you!

            I KNEW IT!

C. S. Madden

For our first son, Michael

1976

The Bells of St. Thomas

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By Kevin Michael John O’Madden

Irish is who we are. I was told that all me life…my life. Me…my father was Irish. My mother was Irish. My grandparents were Irish. Irish Catholic.

There’s a moniker worth being labeled.

My brother Shawn and I were altar boys. We were altar boys when being altar boys was cool. Going to a Catholic school in the early 60’s, being Irish, we were shoe-ins. But, being the early 60’s it had its “trials of the soul”.

When we started altar boy training, the Catholic mass was still said in Latin. Consequently we had to memorize all the prayers in Latin. All the prayers.

Then Vatican II happened. I didn’t know there was a Vatican I, much less that you could make more. The consequence of Vatican II was that the Catholic Mass would now be said in the native tongue of the participants.

You guessed it. We now had to relearn all the prayers in ENGLISH. This has nothing to do with the story; I was just fishing for sympathy.

Any way, we were altar boys at a small, I’d like to say run down, but I believe “humble” is more appropriate, parish in urban Columbus Ohio. Shawn and I were great at serving the Latin mass, all you really had to do was begin with Dominae, and end with Deum Nostrum, with a lot of passionate and sincere mumbling in between. As long as you “hit your mark” on stage (the altar), rang the chimes at the appropriate time, let the priest determine how much wine goes in the chalice, don’t giggle at the participants sticking their tongue out for the host, you were a “Knight of the Altar”.

With the advent of English prayers, depending on the priest, you could squeak by or be the recipient of a glare that you knew meant, “You’ll obviously never amount to anything, AND will probably spend the better part of eternity roasting in purgatory”. But we were successful, and obviously preferred as supporting cast members in the celebration of “The Passion of The Savior”, brought to you every Sunday at 7, 9, 10:30 and noon. I used to believe we were so good at it that we were requested, but in reality, it may have been because Father O’Keefe knew the Maddens always came to 9 o’clock mass and that they always brought a pair of trained altar boys who could be drafted for the masses that may or may not have servants attending. In the hierarchy of altar boys, the older and more experienced were the ones who got to do the large productions like “High Mass”, high holy days in the church, weddings, baptisms, and funerals. Shawn and I were grunts. Merely foot soldiers in the trenches. We never did the really elaborate pageants of faith.

Except this one time.

I believe the scheduled acolytes were unavailable due to weather or illness, but at the end of mass one Sunday, Fr. O’Keefe asked Dad,( we had no input in the decision), if Shawn and I could do a funeral, scheduled at 2pm that day.

“Of course, my boys would be honored father.”

Now a Catholic funeral involves a grand procession down the center aisle led by two altar boys, with hands folded, followed by another altar boy bearing a tall staff affixed with a crucifix, and the priest, followed by two more altar boys (me and Shawn). When we all arrived on stage, those not actually serving the mass, sat, kneeled, stood and bowed on cue, on a bench to the left of the altar. That is where my brother and I were.

Keep in mind this was 2pm, Shawn and I had been at church since 8:30.

A Catholic requiem mass has a great deal of chanting, singing, incense and oration. If you don’t have a leading role in the event, and you’ve missed you’re traditional after church pancake breakfast, and lunch, it is understandable that at some time during the solemn chanting and incense burning, you might tend to doze.

While returning to conscience at one point, I realized everyone else was kneeling, and here I was enjoying a little nap time on my little bench right up there in front of God and everybody. I quickly fell to my knees, or that’s how it started. I actually had my cassock (the black robe), caught under my left foot, and as I threw myself forward, the front of the robe jerked me down prostrate on the dais. Now, my knees had the robe pinned to the floor, pulling my upper body down toward my belly button, with my forehead solidly in the carpet. Sister Mary Nevergetsmad, whom we all loved, said I looked like the Apostle Paul on the road to Damascus when Our Lord called on him.

Sister Beatrice Scaryperson had quite another take on the event. The glare from Fr. O’Keefe threw doubt on my chances of even making Purgatory. From here it just went down hill.

Most of the remainder of the Mass for the Dead swims in my memory as a slow march of doom. Even Shawn, who was more than familiar with my short comings in anything requiring strict adherence to protocol, ceremony, and sanctity, was trying to distance himself from the inevitable fallout of his brother’s nincompoopery.

The conclusion of the formal service is followed by a similar procession by the troupe back down the center aisle, leading the pallbearers and the casket of the dearly departed out the front doors of the church.

However… Fr. O’Keefe, wanting to avoid the possibility of this solemn event collapsing into something that might warrant the attention of the Bishop, told Shawn and I “you boys tend the bells”

Shawn and I had never “tended the bells”. Not even for the simple noon ringing that used to be common back in the day.

There we stood. Both of us staring at the rope.

What do we do? I don’t know, just pull it. O.K., how hard? I don’t know, I’ve never done this. Don’t look at me, I ain’t done it either.

Shawn reached up and pulled down steadily on the rope. A very slight “pong” came from some where above us.

This is harder than I thought. Gimme a hand.

Both of us grabbed it and gave it a mighty hove. BONG-BONG-BONG. The rope went up, we both jumped up and grabbed it pulling it down while we bent our knees, and landed on the floor in a squatting position while still grasping the rope.

BONGBONGBONGBONGBONG.

Ohhhh yeah! We got it now by golly!

Up we went, grinning like gargoyles.

BONGBONGBONGBONGBONGBONGBONG.

The door crashed open. There stood Fr. O’Keefe. His white hair which is always combed and properly slicked to his head, stood out in thick strands looking just like the Great and Powerful Oz. His eyes bulged, I know this because I had never seen bulging eyes before, but the sight of his eyes confirmed my mental image was dead on. Though there was no possibility of wind in the belfry, his robes and vestments were flowing as if by a mighty tempest.

JAYSOOS MAUREEE EN JOUSEFFFF, WHAT IN DE NAME O GOD ARE YE BOIS DOIN?????

He stepped up grabbed the rope, stopped it in mid swing, the bells went BAbonk.

ONE RING, SAY ONE HAIL MARY, ANOTHER RING, SAY ONE HAIL MARY, A THIRD RING, SAY THREE HAIL MARYS AND START OVER!!! CAN YE DO THAT BOYS?

…yes father.

ARE YE BOTH SURE O THAT?

…yes father

Alright then boys, keep that up till someone comes to tell you to stop. Remember, one Hail Mary between rings, three rings, three Hail Marys and start again. Got it right?

…yes father

To this day I know, I mean I KNOW the proper sequence of bell tolls for a Catholic Requiem Mass. Not that I ever got the chance to do it again.

Old Blue

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By Veracity O’Haney

Recollected and presented by Veracity O’Madden

April 5, 1980

I remember a story my grandfather told me once; well, actually, I remember a lot of stories he told me – he called himself “Veracity,” to lend credance to these stories he tells his grandchildren.

Well, as I was saying, I here repeat the Story of Ole Blue, as he told us by the grand fireplace in Haney’s Castle in the Land of LawCo.

As you might suppose, it is about a dog named Blue and he was a huntin’ dog. It does seem that a lot of folks from the hills and mountains along the Great Ohio named their huntin’ dogs Blue. Go figure.

In any event, it seems when he was a youngun in that wondrous land he was out hunting one day, rabbits if I remember correctly, getting on in the years that I am, and anyway, Blue was hollerin’ and bellerin’ up a storm as befit the good time that old dog was having chasing those whily rascals as it had been a good bit since he had been out riding the land of them as it had been raining a good bit at that time.

Ole young Veracity said that it was a Sunday and he know’d he should have been in ‘going to meetin’’ but the sun had come up so bright that he stole out early with Blue and decided to do his worshipping oout in the woods scarin’ up rabbits and squirrles.

As I was saying, Blue was running every which where, running this way and cutting back that way – just having a plain good time out in the morning sun flushing out rabbits, birds and anything else that had decided to take it easy and warm themselves in the early morning sun.

Well, Veracity weren’t but a bout ten but had had been hunting with his dad, Adonirum Judson, since he was three and so before long he and Blue had quite a few of the unfortunates in the bag when behind a felled tree came the most God awful scream he had ever heard!

He ran voer to that tree as fast as he could as just before Blue has bolted at high speed in that direction.

As he cleared the felled tree he stopped dead in his tracks.

Blue was halved completely in two from his nose all the way down to the end of his tail.

It seems that blue had jumped the log after the rabbit and had run dead over the axe that my story teller had inadvertantly left embedde in fallen trunk.

And that is where the sin lay.

It was bad enough having a hunting dog halved but boy! when his pa found out about him leaving the axe out, Lord have mercy!

He could return the axt to the shed where it should have been but still he had the family dog now split in two to explain and there weren’t no explanation but the truth that would fit. And being raised as he was, if asked, the only thing that would come out of his mouth was what had actually happened.

Well, he had to do something and do it fast.

The first thing to do was to get old Blue and that weren’t going to be easy.

It seems that he had caught that rabbit after he had been halved and now both of him were fighting over the rightful ownership of the unfortunate rodent, which showed how stupid that dog was, for it belonged to him no matter how many there were of him.

After first snatchin’ up the rabbit, my grandfather picked up both of Blue and stuck each side under each arm and headed back to the house.

He had a little time for he knew that everyone should be at church (which he was not), knowing his mother as  he did.

Halfway to the house he remembered his friend Cory. Cory and him were pals and he knew Cory would be home because he had told him once that his father was an atheist and didn’t believe in going to church. Cory like animlas and had often hurt critters and put them back together agains and if anyone could git Blue back in one piee Cory could, but he had better hurry because church was getting out soon and Blue was fighting up a storm with his stupid self in grandpa’s young arms. Dumb dog.

Well, Cory did good.

He got out his sewin’ kit and stitched old Blue back together again. Then Veracity got a curry comb and covered up the stitches with Blue’s fur.

It didn’t do no good though.

As soon as he got home, he came around through the field to allay any suspicions, his maw laid into him. He figured on that though and took it as a matter of course.

What killed it though was his daddy pettin’ his beloved ole Blue – he was fond of that stupid dog, and feeling the stiches and following them down his back to his tail.

He immediately figured it out cause he knew that only something as sharp as a razor and as big as an axe could to that to his dog, and he kept his axes razor sharp.

He also deduced that the axe was left out in the field by his not too bright son and that put the topping on the cake and the brush to the seat of ole Veracity’s pants.

And, if you don’t believe this like I didn’t (brother Kevin did), you can to this day see ole Blue stuffed and sittin’ in my Haney’s Castle in that wondrous land of Lawco, scar down the back and all.

Do I laugh? Do I Cry?

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By Emily Madden, aged 15 on the day she lost her brother Nathan

Click to access DoIlaugh.pdf

Do I laugh?

Do I cry?

Do I sing?

Do I dance?

Do I rejoice?

The world is spinning all around me

I stand dizzy

I stand confused

not knowing what to do

Then your voice comes to me in a whisper soft song.

“Trust in me

And I shall comfort thee

Look to me

And I shall guide thee.

Fall upon me

And I shall embrace thee.

I fall to my knees

I look to the skies

I place my trust in Your mighty ways.

Your peace embraces me

Your hand guides me

Your loves comforts me.

As the world inside may crumble and fall

I place my trust in You, O Lord

And the world may still spin

But now I feel Your presence

And fear no more

The TNK Canon in the New Testament and Early Church

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Click to access TNKCanonZechariahNote.pdf

If you want a fairly thorough academic delineation of the Jewish canon at the time of the Incarnation, see Duane L. Christiensen, “Josephus and the Twenty-Two-Book Canon of Sacred Scripture.” JETS 29/1 (March 1986) 37-46. Among other things you will find early church writers listed who endorsed this listing and canon. He lists, Origen (c. 250), Hilary of Poitiers (c. 254), Eusebius (c. 320), Cyril of Jerusalem (c. 250), Athanasius (c. 360), the Council of Laodicea (360-364), Epiphanaius (c. 368), Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 370), Jerome (c. 380) and Rufinus (c. 390). He was citing M. Stuart, Critical History and Defence of the Old Testament Canon (Andover: Warren F. Draper, 1872) 255 and A. Sundberg, The Old Testament of the Early Church (Cambridge: Harvard Univerysity, 1964) 134-155.

The TNK/OT canon was fixed before the Incarnation. Josephus states this in his Contra Apion This is shown by Josephus’s use of the Letter of Aristeas in his Antiquities12.12ff where he writes, “38 For we have not an innumerable multitude of books among us, disagreeing from, and contradicting one another, [as the Greeks have], but only twenty-two books, {g} which contain the records of all the past times; which are justly believed to be divine;

 39 and of them five belong to Moses, which contain his laws and the traditions of the origin of mankind till his death. This interval of time was little short of three thousand years;

 40 but as to the time from the death of Moses till the reign of Artaxerxes, king of Persia, who reigned after Xerxes, the prophets, who were after Moses, wrote down what was done in their times in thirteen books.

The remaining four books contain hymns to God, and precepts for the conduct of human life. (Apion 1:38-40 JOE).

As I noted in my chart we have Luke 24.44 where Jesus notes, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you– that everything written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” (Lk. 24:44 CSB17). That is the TNK canon – Torah (Law of Moses), Nev’im (Prophets), and Kethubim (Psalms the first of the four books noted by Josephus). For the historical note, in Matthew 23.35 Jesus makes a historical note that excludes the Maccabees; “So all the righteous blood shed on the earth will be charged to you, from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zechariah, son of Berechiah, whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar.” (Matt. 23:35 CSB1). The canon of the NT writers was the Jewish canon which is also the protestant canon. We use Jesus’s canon.

The whole discussion of the use of the term “Septuagint” regarding the concept of canon is laid out nicely in Edmon L. Gallagher’s “Suddenly and the Gradually: The Growth of the Septuagint and its Canon” in JBL 143, no. 2 (2024): 303-322. If you are near an academic library you should read it.

The Jewish scriptures at the time of Josephus were divided into three distinct sections; the Torah or Law, the Prophets, and the Writings.[1].  In the modern translations of the Old Testament, the book of Daniel is numbered with the Prophets. Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia, the standard Hebrew Bible in use in schools puts Daniel in the section of the Writings.[SM1]  This dichotomy will be dealt with later.

The books of the prophets contain much detail concerning the history of the Jewish people.  Josephus, in his Contra Apion (1.37-43), lists twenty-two books; five of Moses,  thirteen of the prophets, and “the remaining four books contain hymns to God and precepts for the conduct of human life.”[2].  The prophets extend historically from the time immediately following the Exodus (anywhere between 1500-1200 B.C.E.) to just after the return from the Babylonian exile. Josephus spends much of his time in this period of Israel’s history and it is curious that he devotes as much time as he does to the book of Daniel, moreso than any other of the major prophets.[3].

[1].Josephus himself gives this division in C. Ap. in 1.37–43. It is also found in the New Testament (Luke 24.44).

[2].Thackeray’s note (p. 179, n. b) list the prophets as probably Joshua, Judges and Ruth, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Ezra and Nehemiah, Esther, Job, Isaiah, Jeremiah and Lamentations, Ezekiel, Minor Prophets, Daniel. The “four” he lists as Psalms, Song of Songs, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes.  Sid Z. Leiman is in agreement with this numbering in his “Josephus and the Canon of the Bible” in Louis H. Feldman and Gohei Hata, Josephus, the Bible, and History (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1988), 53–54.  This differs with the arrangement found in Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia which, though containing the same books and recognizing the same tri-partite division (Law, Prophets, Writings), places Job, Ruth, Lamentations, Esther, Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Chronicles among the writings. Baba Bathra 14b (Babylonian Talmud, ~200–500 C.E.) is the source of this arrangement.

[3].Concerning the major writing prophets, Josephus mentions Isaiah eight times; Jeremiah nine times; Ezekiel five times. In the former, non-writing prophets, the prophet Elijah is referred to seven times, and Elisha is mentioned six times.  Daniel, however, has a major portion of an entire chapter devoted to his work and prophecies. Feldman notes on page 630 that among the biblical figures that Josephus gives his attention, he focuses a proportionately large amount of space to Daniel. He notes that “the ratio of Josephus to the Hebrew text for Joseph is 1.63 (1.20 with respect to the Septuagint; 5.45 [3.75 with reference to the Septuagint] for the episode of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife; 3.26 [2.38 with reference to the Septuagint] for the narrative dealing with Joseph’s dreams and subsequent enslavement; 4.09 [2.97 with reference to the Septuagint] for the pericope comprising the final test of Joseph’s brothers), the ratio for Daniel (Ant. 10.186-218: 537 lines in the Loeb Classical Library; 407 lines in the Hebrew Aramaic text of Daniel, chapters 1-6 and 8; 790 lines in the Septuagint text of Rahlfs) is 1.32 with respect to the Hebrew and .68 with respect to the Greek.”