This tweet so perfectly illustrates the fundamentalist tension between loving something while being forced by your self-imposed standards to despise it at the same time.

“I love to be able to go to the buffet on Sunday after church and then go home and watch football! But those waitresses and football players should be in church instead of working on the Sabbath. But I love what they do! So I’ll just sit here and judge them while I enjoy the fruits of their labors.”

Fortunately, there are enough ungodly people left in the world to keep fundamentalists fed and entertained. Being able to judge those who do the things you love is just an added bonus.

Fundamentalism is rife with strange superstitions concerning the ability of mere things to somehow hold mystical powers of evil. If you want to freak out a fundy, invite them over to your house and then ask them to help you organize the cupboard where you store your wine and Ouija boards. For to a fundamentalist that isn’t just some fermented grapes and silly writing on a cardboard box. No, indeed these things actually are themselves evil.

It’s as if the concept of “sin” has somehow turned into a dark mysterious force that infects everything it touches. And in a moment of weakness if an unsuspecting person should allow a picture of Santa Claus to hang on a door or a statue of Buddha to sit on a shelf or an NIV to lay on their coffee table, that object is, in fact, a doorway from which the very powers of hell can gain access to your life.

By way of illustration, I was once told by an elderly lady that the pastor of her church got up in the pulpit and railed against unicorns as a symbol of the New Age Movement and a likely symbol of the occult. After this very biblical and Christ-honoring sermon (one can only imagine that the text was Deuteronomy 33:17) this elderly woman’s daughter came to her mother’s house and broke the horn off the unicorn statue that the daughter had given her mom as a present some months earlier.

With the satanic protrusion removed, we are left to believe that the evil the unicorn contained all seeped out of the hole where the horn had once been and (lacking a proof text for the satanic nature of horses with holes between their ears) she did not do any further violence to the statue. Her mother’s good nature, however, was left much worse for the wear than the figurine was. And what did this accomplish? A little glass was shattered. A heart was broken. And evil remained unchanged for it stayed right where it always has lived in the heart of a person driven by fear and ignorance.

Now we all know that an idol is nothing. But carve that idol out and fill it with alcohol or stick a peace sign on it or tell someone that it’s a talisman from an African witchdoctor and apparently nothing turns into something pretty quickly. Reality is a funny thing in fundyland.

Reader StillFundy sent in this poster that he discovered in fundyland. Can you spot all of the changes?

And if you’re not a weaker brother you can also click here to see the unedited original. Somewhere Stan Lee is weeping softly.

I don’t know why I posted this. The only possible reason I can think of is that I secretly dislike you all very much. I mean, could there be any other reason for inflicting this kind of pointless pain on you?

Nothing says “come celebrate” like a list of rules about what you can wear and do when you come.

It’s been a while since we saw anything from David Grice so here we go…

The combination of false statements and circular reasoning is just astounding.

“We know that Jesus made fresh grape juice because that’s what we use in the Lord’s Supper and we use it in the Lord’s supper because…that’s what Jesus made?” QED.

You read Christian fiction? Well, I only read missionary biographies since whatever isn’t true is bound to be a lie. And you know where liars go.

You don’t believe in kissing before you’re married? Well I don’t believe that married people should be intimate on their wedding night either. That time should be spent in prayers for their marriage and asking to be blessed with children as quickly as possible.

You don’t shop at stores that sell alcohol? I don’t shop at stores where any of the employees even drink alcohol. And I know because I ask each of them personally.

You only read the KJV? I only read Parris’s 1760 revision, second printing with the wood engravings of Adam and Eve au natural. Don’t be fooled by one of Satan’s counterfeits.

You only let your children court instead of date? Well I never let my son court a girl unless I’ve been taking her out myself for at least a year to make sure she’s a good and godly girl. And so far they’ve all been trollops.

You only listen to hymns? I only listen to a capella hymns performed by
people with whom I am in complete doctrinal agreement. Most of my cassette tapes are of Mama.

You go to church three times a week? Sometimes I go to church during the middle of a week day, stick a mirror on the front pew and preach to myself for an hour. It’s always good stuff too.

You tithe? Every week I stick my entire paycheck into the offering plate and then pray for the Lord to give back to me whatever I actually need. Thankfully, I’m the pastor so it always all comes back with interest added.

Like most spiritual ideas in fundyland, the Little Foxes Theory begins by yanking a couple of verse from the surrounding passage and doing them no small amount of violence. Apparently the best way to understand this bit of Scripture is that in the middle of writing out some spicy love poetry, the author suddenly takes a break to write a brief essay on why little sins like not tucking in your shirt lead to bigger ones like not wearing a shirt at all. It certainly makes perfect sense that right after penning the words “let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely” that the time is ripe for a bit of moralistic guilt-tripping.

Watever its questionable exegetical roots, there is no question that the “little foxes” concept has taken firm root in fundyland and then grown into quite a warped and twisted shape. For the way this principle is often taught is that as long as one takes care to obsess over the minutia of life then the larger sins will never even be a temptation. If you dress right, listen to the right music, never say “golly,” or watch The Simpsons on TV then there’s almost no chance at all of you smoking pot or getting your girlfriend pregnant. Almost.

This idea of keeping the little things in order to thwart the larger sins also informs the sermon habits of many fundyland pastors who honestly believe that as long as they are keeping kids from running in the hallways and keeping their parents from reading the NIV that they have nothing to fear from the sins of lust, and greed, and pride. It’s a very tidy notion that is not at all bothered by its complete disconnection from reality.

The real tragedy here is that oftentimes people in fundyland are led to believe that if they cannot “win” over the temptation to listen to rock n’ roll or wear more than one earring per ear that they might as well give up and live a life of debauchery. After all, what’s the difference? The little foxes are going to get you. It’s only a matter of time.

It’s just like Solomon says in the very next verse: “My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.” I know it sounds a lot like more love poetry but I’m sure that is somehow related to the topic at hand. You just have to know how to look.