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I would pay for going against my Cardinals; Jake Westbrook outpitched Cliff Lee--one of Philadelphia's "Four Aces"--and my fantasy team suffered. (Normally, my brother and I never put an opposing pitcher up against the home team, win or lose, but we both thought it was stupid to bet against Lee with Jake pitching so bad.)
To quote the great American philosopher David Gates on another matter, "And God, I miss the girl." I'm utterly hopeless; I can't go two days without texting her; I wonder if she still reads the blog. I'm gonna drive her away. Someone punch me in the face.
Please pray for me; exam on Wednesday, and I don't care. I just don't. This class has symbolized all the reasons I became Catholic all rolled into one. Not only does noone care about the critical question of who died and made the Westminster "divines" pope, I'm apparently all alone on the island of Hermeneutical Chaos, too; that is, the multiplicity of legitimate good faith disagreements about the interpretation of Scripture are really clashing visions of what constitutes the Church. And I have seemingly written it a million times, but Scripture cannot function as a "rule of faith" for the Christian people if one cannot find the people. You have two choices, if you are foolhardy enough to change the meaning of "apostolic" to avoid the charge of schism: 1) Relativize the boundaries of the "Church," which leads to chaos, or 2) relativize the meaning of Scripture (same difference). Option (1) is the confessional Protestant stance, which goes great, until the honest person, by contact with evident truth outside his community, questions the value of the community's distinctives. In other words, if he can say, "We don't have a monopoly on the truth," he shouldn't be ordained, and he shouldn't be bound. Option (2) gives us theological liberalism, which is as close to Hell as we can get in this life, intellectually.

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I shall be praying about the exam. Which class is it?

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