by John Immel
“Run, run as fast as you can! You can’t catch me! I’m the Gingerbread Man!”
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there were two bloggers taking on abuses in twenty-first century American Christianity.
Rumpelstiltskin was clever, adorably blunt and talked about Metaphysics and Epistemology. The Gingerbread Man was sweet and cuddly, serving milk and cookies to his readers while grumbling about blogging for the greater good.
Rumpelstiltskin talked about Ethical and Political theory. The Gingerbread Man gave people a safe place to tell their stories of being under the thumb of giants up the SGM beanstalk chanting, “Fee-fi-fo-fum! We smell the blood of an Arminian.”
Rumpelstiltskin combated the roots of the Giants’ power and the absurdity of reform. The Gingerbread Man railed against the “unbiblical” nature of Sovereign Grace Ministries’ polity.
For many days Rumpelstiltskin’s blog was listed on the Gingerbread Man’s blog. And then one day, it was not. The Gingerbread Man did not say why, and Rumpelstiltskin did not ask. Since he can spin his own straw into gold, it did not matter. Many days passed and the blogs continued, until one day the Gingerbread Man was asked.
Hi Gingerbread Man, If Rumpelstiltskin is your friend, then why did you take SpiritualTyranny.com out of your blogroll list?
And the Gingerbread Man answered:
Berlin, There was a time that I think Rumpelstiltskin was taking a strong doctrinal stance that I disagree with. When I asked for a clarification and asked a simple question “who owns man?” he would not give me an answer. I don’t know if Rumpelstiltskin believes that man owns himself, or is owned by God. Simple question/simple answer.
It’s not Rumpelstiltskin’s fault that his IQ is at least 20 points higher than mine, nor it his fault that I’m uneducated. I was feeling that he was leading to a conclusion that man owns himself, which is an unbiblical belief. Again, this is not an accusation, because I don’t know what he believes. He can clear this up if he likes, or he can continue to talk over my head.
Having said all of that, I have a lot of friends who I disagree with. I honestly like Rumpelstiltskin a lot.
I’m so glad you asked on this public forum
Rumpelstiltskin having heard some variation of this underlying objection for many years sat on a tuffet with little Miss Muffet. He did not like curds and whey, so he talked while she ate. “Why are the clever the villains? Those brothers really were Grimm when they made me the antagonist. They don’t even know me, and I have to justify myself when it was that stupid farmer who lied to the king?”
“Did I lie?” asked Rumpelstiltskin, as Miss Muffet took another bite. “No. Did I put my daughter in a bad spot with the king? No. And that simpleton the King who had to threaten to get the girl to do what he wanted. Isn’t that just like all men in “authority” bullying and threatening? And as an authority, shouldn’t he have known the truth from a lie? Well, that just goes to show that just because you have the zeal and concern to rule doesn’t mean you’re worth goose dropping, golden or not.”
Miss Muffet nodded.
“And that girl,” continued Rumpelstiltskin, “is the one who spread the tradition handed down from her father. She could have told the truth. But no, she perpetuated the lie to save her own skin. And she was the monster that was willing to sell her child for a cushy spot in the castle. What mother does tha—
Rumpelstiltskin paused, “Uh, Miss Muffet, I don’t mean to frighten you, but uh. You have a guest that has sat down beside your—”
Miss Muffet’s eyes went round.