seeing in a mirror dimly

Along the ancient shores of the Pantheistic Peninsula surrounded by the immense Philosophical Sea drifts the ever-changing Process Thought. Having evolved from the ancient Plotinus species, this more fluid fellow eventually migrated to regions containing other schools of intellectual and cold-blooded sea creatures. There the Process Thought feeds upon the exotic flora of Relative Rockweed, Finite Fungi, and Mutable Moss. This unusual diet makes him well suited to the radically changing tides of the sea.

The early dominant varieties of Process Thought came to be known as the notorious Whitehead and Hartshorne. Interestingly, a unique Cobb strain has recently been discovered in great numbers and size around the Claremont Cove, where all sorts of bizarre creatures tend to flourish.

Explorers should be on the lookout when they sink to the depths of the Process Thought. Despite his innocuous appearance and lack of theological backbone, this vacillating creature is in fact a true man-ofwar. His noxious sting of slipshod thinking can be mind-bending and even fatal. Some believe that this explains the now classic and perhaps tragic case of noted explorer Clark P. Nock.¹

Specialists in theological sea exploration advise that the only sure way to handle the poisonous Process Thought is to beach him. Such a task, however, is easier said than done, considering that no creature is more difficult to get a handle on than one that’s lost its grip.²

¹For his part, Clark P. Nock says he feels fine

²For an alarming investigation into the dangers of the Process Thought, see John Fineburg’s Willy-Nilly Jelly Bellies: The Process Thought Revealed.”

PS - I didn’t write this! Check out previous posts on Neo-Orthodoxy and Calvinism for the intro to the series.

“Along the mountain ranges known as the Protestant Peaks (formed by the enormous shifts caused in the Reformation circa A.D. 1520) dwell the dedicated herds of the Calvinist. Having migrated from the Roman regions on account of violent dashes with papal bulls, these staunch survivors flourished for centuries on a diet of Providence Posies, Polemic Poppies, and lush bunches of Theological Tulips. His species can be easily identified by its five-point rack of antlers, a remarkable feature most helpful to explorers attempting to locate the herds and track their migration to scriptural formations emphasizing (1) total depravity, (2) unconditional election, (3) the scope of the Atonement, (4) irresistible grace, and (5) perseverance of the saints.

Though at one time the Calvinist herds were vast, in recent years this creature is rumored to be on the brink of extinction. No doubt this is in part due to the repeated attacks by his natural enemies the Arminian and Liberal, as well as certain  dispensationally inclined Fundamentalists and wily breeds of Pinnocks.¹ Some applaud this development and think the Calvinist’s long-standing claim to being a select species is at an end. Yet many believe that as explorers discover more about these ancient creatures and their feeding habits, the Calvinist is somehow predestined to persevere.²

In the illustration opposite, we see emerging from the background the Calvinist’s somewhat distant cousin, the Amyraldian. (Observe the four-point rack of antlers and expression of unlimited hope for atonement.) In the upper right corner appears the strict Hyper-Calvinist, whose points are often too numerous to count. 

¹ For further reading on the Calvinist-Pinnock debate, see Clark P. Nock’s The Calvinist: You’re So Vain, You Probably Think This Song Is About You, also available on cassette and compact disc.

² An enthusiastic defense of the Calvinist is found in the bestseller Getting the Points Across: Expansion of the Calvinist, edited by J. I. Sacker and R. C. Sprawl, Flag of Fact Press.”

(This is reproduced from the out of print and therefore copyright OK, Wildlife in the Kingdom Come: An Explorer Looks at the Critters and Creatures of the Theological Kingdom.)