The other day I saw an interesting (odd?) ad about ludicrous laws. It was sponsored by the American Banker’s Association. Three archaic state laws were presented, all so preposterous that they have become humorous rather than judicious.
The first law, a Florida statute, says you cannot bathe in a bathtub without wearing some form of clothing or swim suit. The second, from Maine, says it is illegal to whistle on Sunday—even if you are whistling a hymn. And the third ludicrous law, this one from Pennsylvania, makes it illegal to drive in the country at night unless you stop your car every minute, send up a rocket, and wait ten minutes before moving ahead (making for a long night drive from Altoona to Allentown).
If these laws are still on the books, then the states in which they were enacted make 100 percent of their citizens lawbreakers. (I see an all-night seminary bull session on this one: Is it better to be a lawbreaker knowingly, or to try to follow a silly law that is impossible in today’s society?)
I was about to toss the ad and forget about it when I remembered some ludicrous laws we Christians have developed. The only place you will find them is in the Book of Hezekiah in the Recondite Standard Version.
Our first “law” says it is illegal to fellowship with another Christian who holds less than 99 and 44/100 percent of your views. Among other things, it effectively keeps us from preaching in one another’s pulpits, enjoying one another’s fellowship, and possibly, just possibly, praying for one another’s spiritual welfare.
Most notable, perhaps, is its impact on those espousing various eschatological views. For example, there is no way a posttribulation-rapturist will eat bread with a pretribulation-rapturist—at least on this side of the Pearly Gates. (There is evidently some kind of doctrine-difference shredder at The Gates where we quickly dispose of these divisionary and diversionary doctrines before we embrace each other on the other side.)
But while variant views of eschatology have been the leading doctrines of division, they are quickly moving out of first place in favor of the doctrines concerning sex education in public schools and the promoting of condoms. Could it be at last that a posttribulation-rapturist will enjoy more Christian fellowship with the pretribulation-rapturist than a procondom-promotionist?
The second ludicrous law, toward the end of Hezekiah 2, makes it illegal to be an effective Christian unless you are a highly visible one. Indeed, spirituality relates directly to wattage and name recognition. With this law, Christian heroism emerges from ratings rather than sacrificial service, megabucks rather than discipleship. Any good, trendy Christian will recognize the value of hype above worship, glitz above holiness, and schmaltz above sacredness. Glitz, Hype, and Schmaltz have become so prominent in Christian legalism that they have formed their own law firm.
I don’t know what we will do with all the excess baggage of ludicrous law number 2 at the Pearly Gates. I’m rather afraid the divisionary-doctrine shredder will get clogged and short out if we try to drop in all those watts of power, not to mention the hype, glitz, and schmaltz.
Is it possible we will speed up customs at The Gates if we drop off more excess baggage before we get there? Of course, if we do, we will just have to plod along with such old-fashioned ideas as holiness, discipleship, and sacrificial service.
