It’s disconcerting to find the word “speculation” used in the Bible in a negative way, especially since so many speculative novelists bend over backwards to convince believers that no, fantasy is not evil; nor is science fiction or the other sub-genres that fall into the catch-all term “speculative fiction.”

I saw the word speculations pop up in a most disconcerting way in Romans 1. After Paul’s greeting to the Roman believers he hopes to visit, he goes to some length to explain the slide into sin which humankind has experienced. Early in the process, he identifies this cause:

For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. (Rom. 1:21)

As it turns out, only the New American Standard Version uses the word speculations. Other translations say thoughts, imaginings, reasoning. I’m not sure that helps much. One of the things we speculative writers say over and over is that the imagination is God-given, that there is nothing wrong with pretend, that rational people know the difference between what is real and what is made up—such as the difference between Santa Claus and Jesus.

The verse gives me pause, however. What did Paul mean? Is there something futile in our fantasies and science fiction stories? Are we walking along the path of departure from God that Paul was describing?

I don’t think so.

First, the word speculative and the term speculative fiction don’t mean anything remotely related to one another. Well, OK, maybe remotely. According to the Oxford American Dictionary, speculative is defined as the following: “engaged in, expressing, or based on conjecture rather than knowledge: discussion of the question is largely speculative.” Speculation is defined as “the forming of a theory or conjecture without firm evidence: there has been widespread speculation that he plans to quit | this is pure speculation on my part | these are only speculations.”

The term speculative fiction isn’t even in the dictionary. For that definition I went to Wikipedia: “Speculative fiction is a broad genre encompassing fiction with certain elements that do not exist in the real world, often in the context of supernatural, futuristic or other imaginative themes. This includes, but is not limited to, science fiction, fantasy, superhero fiction, horror, utopian and dystopian fiction, supernatural fiction as well as combinations thereof (e.g. science fantasy).” In following the footnotes, I learned that part of that definition comes from an online digital dictionary, whose “main, proprietary source is the Random House Unabridged Dictionary.”

It seems apparent to me that the two terms are not talking about the same animal. As I understand the idea of speculation, the theory of evolution is more akin to the concept Paul was laying out for his readers than is speculative fiction. (I know many will dispute that idea, but there still is no hard evidence that non-mammals became mammals or non-sentient beings became sentient).

For one thing, we have the advantage of the added word: fiction. What speculative writers write are novels and short stories. We are not writing theology or science or history (except perhaps alternative history, and then the idea of “not the way it actually happened” is pretty clear.)

I think the point of contention comes from the idea that speculative authors are writing about things “that do not exist in the real world”: elves, aliens, dwarfs and fairies, and the like. That we write about make-believe worlds like Narnia or imagined times like Middle Earth. That we write about things that have not now and may not ever happen, like sentient robots or space travel to places where other species live.

It’s actually odd that some of the criticism about speculative literature from some Christians comes because we write about things that are real, like witches and angels and demons.

I’ll be honest: I don’t particularly enjoy supernatural stories. There are indeed real angels and real demons, but rarely have I read a story that aligns the supernatural beings about which they write, with anything true from Scripture. The same is also true about witches or divination. In other words, what the Bible refers to and the pretend beings in the speculative stores are not the same.

I’ll admit that the line is not as clear when we write about actual known beings as opposed to purely imagined beings. So for example, writing about something that is not such as elves or something that may become an actuality in the future such as human clones, but is not one yet, is different from writing about angels that actually are, now, in existence.

Sort of.

I mean, “realistic” fiction is all built on writing about characters that are like real people but are themselves made up. In most instances, readers are not confused. They understand they are reading a pretend story, one that did not actually happen, the characters are not real people, even though they talk and act in ways that real people do.

So the first point to understand is that stories of any kind, including speculative stories, are not real and they are not trying to relate real events about real people or real beings.

Second is this (which has been touched on before here at Speculative Faith): by telling imaginary stories, authors can at times reveal something true that no amount of explaining could do.

Paul was not referring to anything pretend. His point about “futile speculations” is that some people create ways to dismiss God, to act as if He does not exist or as if He is not sovereign. Their “foolish heart was darkened,” meaning that they no longer can see the truth that God has made so evident within creation.

If speculative fiction makes the truth of God more evident, not less, these stories are far from “futile.”

Why is evil so appealing?

By evil, I don’t mean the behaviors reserved for the worst villains: things like genocide, terror, slavery, and mayhem. Most people are turned off by the thought of engaging in those actions at the outset.

I mean the more mundane forms of wickedness: little lies, betrayal, petty theft, a second look,  secrets, anger, meddling, foolishness—the sorts of things we’re willing to excuse in a character we like because “they didn’t have a choice,” or, “they meant well,” or even worse, “this sets up a great redemptive story arc.”

There’s a simple answer: these things that appear so beautiful, appealing, and sometimes truly good, are an expertly laid trap.

In the beginning, our Creator set us in a world of unimaginable beauty and unimaginable freedom. He called it very good. He gave us sustenance for our bodies, the divine and human relationships that feed our souls, and meaningful work to satisfy our hearts. It was good. And it was beautiful.

The first temptation in Genesis 3 focuses on something that seems good on the surface; the knowledge of good and evil, wisdom, a little bit more of the image of God than the first humans apparently had. In their eyes, the conclusion felt right and good. What could be more beautiful than aspiring to be like the Creator?

Verse 6 emphasizes the desirous nature of the fruit, saying, “When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it.”

Regardless of good intent, it seems clear that the knowledge of good and evil could not be learned from books. It had to be learned through transgression. The first temptation was appealing because God made good things. The serpent used the beauty of God’s creation against us and the first family had few defenses against the cunning of an enemy already familiar with rebellion. Of course, the temptation usually pushes against what God has already told us.

The sad part is, we’re slow to learn the lesson. It’s still one of his favorite tricks, though some of our best storytellers try to warn us.

In Tolkien’s epic of the Ring of Power, the ring itself stands-in for the concept of sin and temptation. It is beautiful. It promises great power that can build kingdoms and deter evil. But it is a false promise that only distorts the user. The Ring, being fully under the sway of the enemy, consistently turns its users plans to ruin. Simply possessing the ring threatens to destroy Frodo’s soul.

Just as in our own fall, this primary deceiving threat spawns smaller temptations that threaten the characters in the story. A poignant example is the mirror of Galadriel. First, Samwise is tempted to abandon the fellowship for the good of saving the Shire. Then Frodo offers the ring willingly to Galadriel, though strong leaders have already refused their opportunity to take it up. Her rejection reveals the folly of trusting in good intentions:

“In place of a Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!”

Indeed, for men especially, mere physical beauty, like that of a powerful elf queen, is danger enough. C. S. Lewis uses this idea effectively in both The Magician’s Nephew and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, when the White Witch, Queen Jadis, meets the young boys Digory, and then Edmund. Both find her strikingly beautiful, if a little intimidating. They are willing to give her beauty the benefit of the doubt until she reveals her sadistic cruelty. Of course, then it is too late to resist.

In my own works, The Treasure of Capric and Siren Silence, the danger of temptation through beauty is a significant theme because of its prevalence in our modern culture. Cpt. Fallon, a soldier hunting the hero’s company, is haunted by an intimate encounter with a witch. At the same time, the protagonist, Kurian, is nearly lost to the seductive song of the sirens.

Through innumerable examples, both fictional and biblical, we see that what appears good and beautiful may be dangerous to our souls when wielded by our enemy.

But another type of beauty is revealed—still dangerous, but in a different way.

When the ancient Israelites experienced it, they asked Moses to go up the mountain and intervene for fear they would die. When the prophet Isaiah saw it, he cried out, “Woe to me! I am ruined! ” It caused David and his son to write glorious poems, and when Saul, the scourge of the nascent church witnessed it, he was blinded for three days.

Tolkien and Lewis present it in the joyous songs of their creation stories. I weave it into The Treasure of Capric as a song voiced by a gentle, timeless man, which the young Kurian feels will unravel him.

It is the beauty and holiness of the Lord. In contrast to the manipulations of our enemy, who is capable of appearing as an angel of light, this is true beauty and true goodness.

It is dangerous—but only to our false-selves and to the sin passed through our genealogy and carried on in our hearts and actions. That beauty is frightening because the transgression is so much a part of us that it feels detrimental to lose it. It feels threatening to accept the Savior’s offer to take the weight of it for us.

Still, the simple choice stands before us: beauty that endangers our souls with false promises, or beauty that threatens our wickedness but promises the life of God.

The Treasure of Capric is available now. Lorehaven magazine says:

“With The Treasure of Capric, first installment in the King of the Caves series, Brandon M. Wilborn blends Brother Cadfael with Prince Caspian to conjure a complex, lived-in world populated by fully realized characters.”

Read the complete review in Lorehaven magazine’s fall 2019 issue.

As Christian authors of speculative fiction writing about spiritual warfare, about facing the Devil in combat, we may chose to include the Devil in the story. Or we may write a character inspired by Satan, but not under that name. Or perhaps we’d chose not to directly write about spiritual war at all, focusing on other themes. But overall we need to realize that when we are discussing spiritual warfare (if we do so), we are talking about fighting the works of the Devil–actions inspired and directed by Satan.

Maybe ironically, our most important tools in this continual spiritual battle derive from us focusing on obeying God (and of course Jesus) through the power of the Holy Spirit, not on us performing special prayers or actions to keep the Devil at bay (though praying against Satan is a real thing and can be useful). Remember, as identified in the last two posts in this series, the Devil’s primary goal is to corrupt by both getting God’s people to violate what they know is true (by committing sin) and to believe things that are not true (by persuasively presenting false doctrine). We combat these main goals by living genuinely righteous lives that honor God and by understanding and defending truth. Not by directly going against Satan–though we need to be aware of the Devil and alert to what he does.

This topic is bigger than one post, so this first part will address what the Bible says about spiritual war and the next post will offer suggestions on how Christian writers can apply an understanding of spiritual warfare to our works of fiction. Or in other words, how our artistic works can have an important role in the spiritual war that rages around us at all times, though largely invisible to our eyes (like cyberwarfare).

The tightrope walker’s irony as related to spiritual war:

Crossing between the two Eureka towers in Melbourne, 300 meters up, eyes looking out. Image credit: youtube

The “tightrope walker’s irony” is a phrase I may be inventing–I don’t recall hearing it elsewhere. But what I mean is the tightrope walker’s most important job is to stay on the rope he or she walks across. There are a number of things tightrope walkers do to perform this act. They often bend the knees a little and they frequently carry a pole held horizontally to help them balance. They maintain awareness of the rope at all times, but what they don’t do is actually look at the rope, at least not near their feet. Ironically, looking down at the rope hurts their ability to stay on it. Their gaze remains fixed in parallel to the rope, or at most, looking at the rope in the distance. They do not focus down on the part of the rope their feet touch.

This irony explains why the Devil is mentioned many times in Scripture yet is not the primary focus of any part of Scripture. Our war with the Devil is real–yet we win mainly by focusing on God rather than Satan. In the spiritual war we fight, we mainly vanquish evil by being good, not by trying to destroy evil. Though in fact, we need to be aware of evil and confront it directly at times–especially in refusing to accommodate sin and standing against destructively false ideas of who God is and of God’s purposes and plans.

The Armor of God

Image credit: Moreno Hills SDA Church

The most important passage of the Bible that addresses spiritual war is one most Christians are very familiar with. The armor of God in Ephesians 6:10-18 tells us specifically how to face “the wiles of the Devil” or “strategies of the Devil” or “schemes,” depending on translation (verse 11). Verses 11 and 12 make it very clear our primary enemies are not human, they are spiritual powers, reinforcing the importance of Satan in this discussion. Yet verse 10 summarizes that our response to spiritual war is to focus on God, to stand in his might, which is why being aware of the enemy is necessary, but being obsessed by him is not.

Note verse 14 starts listing what the armor is–and it isn’t some kind of magical glowing weaponry our spiritual selves adopt to protect us against invisible weapons headed our way–though that imagery is powerful and useful in stories to a degree. The armor are a set of traits needed for spiritual war, a set of qualities that directly challenge what Satan is trying to accomplish in spiritual warfare. The items are not listed in the order one first acquires them on becoming a Christian or else the “helmet of salvation” would be listed sooner. The items are listed in order of their usefulness in spiritual warfare.

Truth is the first item listed in the armor–because as I explained last week, Satan is primarily in the business of a type of war that parallels “Information Operations,” negatively or even dismissively called “propaganda.” Like in case of the serpent speaking with Eve, not all that Satan says is entirely false. But falsehood is an important element in his program to get Christians to deny God in practice by living in sin or to believe untruth. So truth, as in knowing truth, practicing truth, and speaking truth, is a top priority for Christians to succeed in spiritual warfare.

Righteousness comes second on the list. Note that since I think the “armor of God” is an extended metaphor rather than an invisible spiritual reality (as in invisible magical glowing armor), I don’t think that righteousness being equated to a breastplate is nearly as important as the role of righteousness itself. Since one of the main goals of Satan is to tempt Christians to sin, living a life in which a person submits to God and through the power of the Holy Spirit expresses the fruits of the spirit (Galatians 5:22-23) i.e. living a righteous life that avoids sin, prevents the Devil from obtaining one of his primary objectives in spiritual warfare. It also means that if you are living in habitual sin, you are in effect serving the Devil and fulfilling his will. Righteousness matters!

Preparation (of the gospel of peace). This attribute is slightly controversial because it’s a phrase and which element is more important? The preparation (or “readiness”)? The gospel? Or the peace? Different translations and commentaries put emphasis on different elements, but I’d say after reading this in Greek and studying a bit that the most important part is to get ready or prepare–but the preparation isn’t generalized. It’s a specific kind of preparation, one that opens the door for the “gospel of peace.” Again, not everyone agrees on this passage but I believe this means a person has to practice, learn, and study as well as build good relations with others in order to move forward (note this is compared to footwear) to share the gospel (which gives peace but also is enabled by peaceable relations).

The “peace” part I think ties into the end of 2 Timothy 2 (verses 24-26) in which the Bible says the follower of God should not quarrel but be gentle to all, not allowing falsehood to pass by with no comment, but to confront it “in humility correcting those in opposition,” with the hope that “they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil” since they have been “taken captive by him to do his will” via their false ideas. (By the way, I would not claim to have mastered gentleness as this passage describes it–but I do recognize it as important and it’s something I’m working to achieve.) I think the “peace” part of “the preparation of the gospel of peace” likewise relates to having peaceful relationships (as much as is possible), which I think relates to presenting the gospel not in pride, but “in humility.”

So the third attribute stands on its own but also shapes how we are to use truth and righteousness. With preparation–and with a goal of sharing the gospel that both brings peace and which is assisted by peaceable relations.

Faith, which is likened to a shield is specifically said to “quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one” (Ephesians 6:16b NKJV). This indicates that doubt is one of Satan’s primary methods of attack, because “doubt” is probably the correct antonym of “faith” in this passage. But I think the power of doubt has wound up being overemphasized by some people who look at this passage. Yes, doubt is a tool Satan uses. Recall how the serpent raised the question “Did God say?” in Genesis 3:1–but doubt wasn’t the real point and this passage on the armor of God isn’t just about doubt. Doubt was the door opener to suggesting disobeying God brings benefits (knowing good and evil) and God’s motives are corrupt (he is trying to withhold unfairly). Getting believers to doubt God is one of the Devil’s weapons but by no means the only one. And we deal with doubts not just with faith I would say, but also with truth and preparation and perhaps also even with righteousness. But faith is the primary way to face doubt, whereas doubt is a tool to getting believers to believe false things and adopt sinful lives.

Salvation is almost mentioned as an afterthought in Ephesians 6, which seems odd because believers would think salvation is primary. Maybe faith comes before salvation (or the two simultaneously) but clearly a person is not righteous, does not know very much truth, and isn’t very prepared to share the gospel of peace before first finding salvation. Likewise in an analogy of armor, warriors in the real world who have no other protection at all will either first acquire a shield or a helmet and then worry about a breastplate later. But this passage is not a treatise on how to live a successful Christian life or how to prepare for physical combat. It’s not about how to please God or how to grow as a Christian. While the armor of God is metaphorical, the spiritual warfare the armor is needed for isn’t metaphorical. Yes, first, you need to know the Lord before you can do anything else, but for those to whom this passage was first written, Christians in Ephesus, the things they most needed to fight the Devil were truth and righteousness, because that’s where the Devil mostly attacks. Yes, also preparation, faith, and most basically salvation have to be in there, too. But salvation is a requirement to be in spiritual warfare at all, rather than a specific attribute to cultivate, unlike truth, righteousness, preparation, and faith.

Word of God. I’ve heard many commentators mention that while the rest of the armor is defensive, the “sword of the spirit,” a.k.a. “the word of God” is the only offensive weapon. The problem I have with this interpretation is the next thing listed is prayer, which is also a weapon of spiritual war, one I would say has value in both offense and defense. But the metaphor dropped away by the time prayer is brought up. I guess if the metaphor had continued, prayer could have been compared to arrows, or Roman javelins–pila, flying to support our friends under attack. But I would say the flow of thought of the passage instead had moved to things that are basic and fundamental and which support what is needed for spiritual war. While the word of God can be a weapon against Satan in a way, it’s main purpose is to feed into the truth and righteousness and even the faith that we need to stand against the schemes of Satan. And when we prepare the Gospel, it’s our source of preparation, what we prepare from. So the word of God is basic, foundational to the other attributes used in spiritual war, in the same way salvation is, so with salvation winds up being listed near the last. Because this passage, again, is not about the Christian life in general, it’s about spiritual war and gives what we need to fight the enemy.

Prayer is the last thing listed, though as I already mentioned, the metaphor of armor came to an end before prayer is found in the text of Ephesians 6. But the passage makes it plain that prayer helps all believers (including ourselves) face the temptations to sin and the untruths that Satan tries to bring into the lives of our fellow Christian believers.

Notice a number of major Christian attributes are not mentioned at all in Ephesians 6. Again, this passage isn’t all about the Christian life, but instead about how to fight spiritual warfare. But love is indirectly in the passage in that the reason why the gospel is one of peace is because it’s a gospel of love. And the preparation of the gospel in terms of building good relations is fueled by love. But loving others does not include giving up on telling the truth and living righteously–though love ought to permeate how truth and righteousness function for us.

Bringing Every Thought Captive

II Corinthians 10:3-6 is a passage often misunderstood. It’s about spiritual war, but it’s in the middle of Paul correcting some misbehavior on the part of infamously naughty Corinthian church. Let me quote it (NKJV):

³ For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh. ⁴ For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, ⁵ casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, ⁶ and being ready to punish all disobedience when your obedience is fulfilled.

Without diving too deep into the context and passage here, the “when your obedience is fulfilled” part reveals what I already said is true. Paul was dealing with some Corinthian disobedience/misbehavior and was specifically handling the issue of them questioning his authority, and in the midst of that, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he says in effect the corrections he’s giving them are actually an element of spiritual warfare. He isn’t just correcting them for carnal purposes, but spiritual ones. The “casting down arguments” doesn’t only refer to something you do within your own mind as many commentators take this passage, but mainly refers to confronting untruth. Just as Paul was in the midst of doing with this letter to Corinth, because as long as they believed and practiced untruth they were in effect exalting themselves “against the knowledge of God,” something Paul knew he needed to correct. (Even though they were Christians! Even though Paul loved them!)

This passage shows that part of fighting spiritual warfare is pointing out untruth. Advancing truth, speaking truth, confronting falsehood are what is meant by “casting down arguments” and “bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.” This passage isn’t just about internal-in-your-own-mind stuff, though I’d say you need to have your own mind straight before addressing others. This passage doesn’t say to be mean, angry, or unloving (other parts of the Bible make it clear that confrontation should be “in humility”–as I already quoted–and with love), but it does say that confronting falsehood is part of spiritual war. Which matches up with what I said last week about spiritual war being like Information Operations. We need to confront false messages and ensure the true message of God gets out.

Submit to God in Vigilance

James 4:7b famously says, “Resist the Devil and he will flee from you.” To pick up the context of that fragment, let’s look at the rest of verse 7 and verse 8 (NKJV):

⁷ Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. ⁸ Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.

Our spiritual life consists primarily in connecting to God through knowing truth and living righteously through our relationship with God, empowered by the gift of the Holy Spirit. That’s why James 4 first talks about submitting to God before talking about the Devil and continues talking about the relationship to God after mentioning Satan, saying in very clear terms that living righteously is not optional–in context that’s because it’s part of the spiritual war. But we don’t live that way to defeat Satan per se–we ought to live that way because we love God and desire to draw near to him. But, living for God generally speaking, including obeying his will and understanding his truth, is the primary way to win the spiritual war. 

Yet if all that’s true, why does I Peter 5:8 tell us to be vigilant about the Devil, or to rephrase that, to be alert, to take the threat seriously, to recognize the spiritual war is real? Why does that matter if all we need to do to be on the winning side of the spiritual war is to obey God? Why do we need to think about Satan at all?

Well, we don’t have to focus on Satan, actually. We don’t. But we should be aware that Satan is working in the world. Being aware of the Devil should affect how we pray for others and ourselves–we should pray God protects us and others from temptation and evil (as Jesus taught, see Matthew 6:13 and Luke 11:4). Because we know that’s part of the war. We also should realize the Devil has influence in this world–so we should be alert to false messages, false teaching, and sin, even among people we know are Christians, because we know Satan is active in the spiritual war and we know his goals include getting Christians to unwittingly do his wishes. That doesn’t mean we live in fear or panic–not at all, because we know God is much greater than Satan and as long as we remain close to God, were are safe from what Satan can do to us.

But we should be alert, vigilant, and aware of the fact that our faith lies in God, not our fellow human beings. We need to pray for our friends and Christian leaders and in gentleness point out if they go astray. Not out of fear of Satan, but because we understand how spiritual warfare works and what our role is in fighting that war.

How Christian artists and authors can make specific contributions to the spiritual war I’ll look at this upcoming week, God enabling. But for now, what are your reactions to this article? Does it make sense to you that spiritual warfare is both vitally important and also something we don’t need to focus on (instead we focus on God)? Have you heard other thoughts or interpretations about the armor of God or other passages I’ve mentioned? Any other input? If so, please mention them in the comments below.

As I get older and hopefully wiser, I find myself realizing how much drama and excitement there is in the real world, as opposed to my younger mentality where I thought that reality was boring and that the worlds of imaginations were far more interesting. Yet as I learn more about the world that God has made as an expression of His glory, I also learn how much of it truly sounds like fantasy.

I’ve been an armchair theoretical physics fan for a couple of decades now. My favorite book on the subject is Dr. Michio Kaku’s romp through hyperspace, appropriately titled Hyperspace (and I will never get tired of telling anyone who will listen that Dr. Kaku once called my house when I was sixteen to interview me for his radio show after I had emailed my praises for his futuristic tome Visions). String theory, ten dimensions, wormholes, particles and waves – all that stuff really excited me as a teenager. Still does, though not with the same giddiness. These days, it’s more of, “Man, isn’t God amazing?”

One quiet evening, I was perusing the titles on Amazon Prime and came across an episode of Nova called Einstein’s Quantum Riddle and I gave it a go. The program details the discovery of quantum physics and Einstein’s refusal to acknowledge “quantum entanglement,” which essentially means that two particles can somehow be linked across the expanse of space and act and react at the same time despite their vast separation. It sounds ridiculous at first but the math is solid, and later experiments showed it to indeed be a legitimate phenomenon. Scientists are still baffled as to how this could actually take place but it does, and this is leading to breakthroughs in quantum computing that exceed our wildest imaginations.

As I was watching the program, I found myself shaking my head along with Einstein. How can particles be linked across space like that? Relativity shows that nothing can travel faster than light, so how could a signal from one particle to another traverse astronomical distances instantaneously? One scientist put it simply, “Perhaps there is no such thing as space.” For weeks I’ve been trying to wrap my head around that, and I’m still reeling.

We humans, as rational beings, want everything to make sense. Einstein had his world-changing theory of relativity show very beautifully how time and space interact, and then quantum physics came along and caused major disruptions, much to his consternation. There have been numerous attempts to reconcile quantum physics and relativity, with string theory being the closest candidate, but the “Theory of Everything” remains elusive. I wish general and special relativity explained everything because it would feel so nice and satisfying, or if quantum physics was the blueprint for the entire universe, but we also know that relativity is still in play. It’s frustrating that such “nonsense” winds up being true.

Yet through all the upheavals and discoveries and brick walls, God’s glory is magnified, not diminished. There is a tendency for academics and scientists to think, “The more I know, the smaller God becomes,” when in fact it should be the opposite. Even Albert Einstein, a pantheist with a very shaky concept of God, said about quantum mechanics: “The theory yields much, but it hardly brings us closer to the Old One’s secrets.” The more we learn, the more in awe we should be of God’s power and creativity. And while it may cause much frustration and anguish for the brilliant minds here on Earth, it it more than worth the chase.

One thing I love about speculative fiction is the fact that it opens the door to the impossible. It expands our vision of reality.

Years ago, people didn’t have the constraints of science as we do today. They didn’t have the skeptical, “show me” mentality of the Missourian. They believed what they couldn’t see because they’d been told it was so.

Today our response is more apt to be, Really? Those Muslim converts first heard about Jesus in a dream? Really? His behavior mirrors that of people in the Bible identified as having an evil spirit. Really?

In truth, all the events of the original Christmas would likely come under our skeptical questioning today. Think about it.

Mary was astounded. How could she not be? An angel had told her she’d get pregnant, and here she was, still a virgin, staring down into the little face of her newborn son.

As if that wasn’t enough, a group of shepherds crowded into their quarters to worship her baby. Angels, they said, had told them about this child—where he’d be born and how they could find him and how they would know him.

Then there were the two people she encountered in the temple when she and Joseph went to present Jesus according to the law. First was Simeon who said strange things: that her son would be a light to the Gentiles and a glory to Israel. Then in his blessing, Simeon added that her son was appointed as sign to be opposed. Simeon concluded with some confusing personal prophecy about a sword piercing Mary’s own soul.

Then there was the prophetess Anna who thanked God for Mary’s son and talked about him to everyone who was looking for the redemption of Israel.

All this came on the heels of her cousin Elizabeth—her barren cousin Elizabeth—getting pregnant. The angel had told Mary that would happen, too. And it was then he made the whole astounding series of events make sense: “For nothing will be impossible with God.”

The bottom line, and the only thing a person actually needs to believe in order to accept the astounding things we read about connected to that first Christmas, is that truth which Mary accepted. When the angel made his declaration about God’s greatness and power and limitless ability, Mary submitted to God—to His plans for her, His capacity to accomplish what He’d made known to her through His messenger.

She got it—that God was bigger than the laws of nature and that He was the Fulfiller of prophecy. She ought not to be a mother, but she was. The shepherds ought not to have known about her son, but they did. Simeon and Anna ought not to have declared a poor baby born to an unwed mother in a manger to be the Messiah, but they had.

Indeed, God can do the impossible.

That’s really the truth that separates people today as believers or unbelievers. If God can do the impossible, then He could take on human flesh and be born as a baby. If God can do the impossible, then He could die, once for all, the just for the unjust. If God can do the impossible, then no sin is too great for Him to forgive, no person so far from Him than He can’t reach them.

One of the worst kings in Israel’s history illustrates that point. Manasseh

erected altars for the Baals and made Asherim, and worshiped all the host of heaven and served them. He built altars in the house of the LORD of which the LORD had said, “My name shall be in Jerusalem forever.” For he built altars for all the host of heaven in the two courts of the house of the LORD. He made his sons pass through the fire in the valley of Ben-hinnom; and he practiced witchcraft, used divination, practiced sorcery and dealt with mediums and spiritists. He did much evil in the sight of the LORD, provoking Him to anger. Then he put the carved image of the idol which he had made in the house of God (2 Chron. 33:3b-7a).

A hopeless case, right? Idol worship, child sacrifice, witchcraft. Evil. But God didn’t turn His back on Manasseh.

The LORD spoke to Manasseh and his people, but they paid no attention. Therefore the LORD brought the commanders of the army of the king of Assyria against them, and they captured Manasseh with hooks, bound him with bronze chains and took him to Babylon. When he was in distress, he entreated the LORD his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers. When he prayed to Him, He was moved by his entreaty and heard his supplication, and brought him again to Jerusalem to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the LORD was God. (2 Chron. 33:10-13)

Impossible! But no. God “was entreated by him.” God forgives. God redeems. God reconciles.

The Christmas story is both the proof that God can do the impossible and the declaration that the God who is Lord of the impossible accomplishes the miraculous.

And speculative fiction expands readers’ thinking so that we can more easily come to grips with this truth.

This article originally appeared here in 2016. For another discussion of Christmas from the archives, see “Christmas Is Too . . .” by Shannon McDermott

If it’s in the Bible, it means something, probably something important. That viewpoint is somewhat axiomatic, but never fails to surprise me. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of things in the Bible that tend to go right past me until someone smarter than I am calls my attention to them. A good example is the dimensions Noah was given to build his ark. Okay, I might say to myself, it’s big.

And then someone who knows a thing or two about the size of a cubit and how a ship’s hauling capacity (called displacement) is measured runs the numbers and discovers the ark has roughly the same displacement as the Titanic (the Titanic!) and the dimensions were designed to make it incredibly stable in rough seas. That’s the kind of information that’s always catching me by surprise and makes me smile. It’s just cool.

That brings us to the gifts of the magi, or wise men: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Gold is obvious. It’s been the store of value for thousands of years and its use is all over the Old Testament books of the Bible, especially in the description given for building the temple and the Ark of the Covenant. Solomon’s vast wealth is described in the amount of gold he accumulated. If you want a real eye-opener, here’s a little research on just how much wealth Solomon collected each year in gold: $1.2 billion dollars! This is calculated from 666 talents of gold (1 Kings 10:14) with a mean weight of 75 pounds per talent, 16 ounces per pound and the current dollar value of gold at roughly $1,500 dollars per ounce). And remember, this is real, tangible wealth.

It’s no wonder that gold was the Old Testament symbol of kings. When the magi brought gold to honor Jesus, they were proclaiming him king. More, they were proclaiming him to be the ultimate king, in their eastern tradition, the “king of kings.”

Given the plot and structure of books I’ve written in the past, it may be surprising to some that I was raised in a very Protestant household. I’ve read with amusement those reviews that have postulated that I must have been raised in a Roman Catholic household, if not some other orthodox background. I have to admit that I really had no idea that some churches still burned incense as part of their services until I attended an Anglican Church. After a bit of reading (and to be bluntly honest, paying attention when I was reading) I noticed that the high priest of Israel burned incense in the temple on the Day of Atonement. One particular interpretation of this act appeals to me. The smoke of the incense was to fill the Holy of Holies and hide God who dwelt on the mercy seat in order that the high priest might be there in the presence of God without dying. To see God was to die.

When the magi brought frankincense to Jesus, they proclaimed him to be their high priest. The importance of this second gift is difficult to overstate. In the Old Testament tradition, the kings came from the tribe of Judah, while the priests came from the tribe of Levi. Thus, the two powers were to be kept separate. Yet, in the birth of Jesus, the two powers were combined and the presence of the two gifts together foreshadows Jesus’s role as both king and priest for the people. This is explained more fully in the New Testament book of Hebrews when the author claims that Jesus is of the order of Melchizedek, who was both priest and king to his people.

The last gift of the magi, myrrh, is the most solemn, but no less prophetic. An embalming oil, Myrrh symbolized the Christ’s mortality as a man. Imagine bringing a gift to the Messiah proclaiming his suffering and death. What could be more antithetical to the previous two gifts than myrrh? How could they stand it? With this last gift, the magi proclaimed that all three powers God had ordained in the Old Testament had come together in the birth and person of Jesus Christ and would be fulfilled. Gold proclaimed Him to be our king, the one who would rule over his people, and indeed the whole of creation, forever and ever. Frankincense announced that He would be our high priest, intervening with God, Himself, on our behalf, offering prayers and intercessions for us. And finally, myrrh revealed that our King and Priest, God forever, was somehow a mortal man would also serve as our prophet, a man who would die in the place of his people.

The study of the gifts of the magi is a study without end. Each reference leads to another revelation, an additional unveiling of who Jesus is, but it’s a study that begs to be undertaken. It was a study that I undertook before I wrote The End of the Magi. I hope this Christmas everyone will study and appreciate the enormity of what was being said with those gifts. Come and behold Him!

Patrick Carr and his novel The End of the Magi will feature in this month’s Lorehaven magazine.

We interview Patrick and review The End of the Magi as well as review thirteen more great Christian-made fantastical novels.

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To contact Patrick about this book or any of his fantasies you will find him at his website, Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.