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Sunday, 20 May 2018

Verifiably False Doctrinists

“There’s something I don’t understand. Our parents were in VFD, but so was Olaf – so is VFD a noble organisation or a wicked one?”
A Series of Unfortunate Events S2 E10 ‘The Carnivorous Carnival: Part Two’ (2018)

Credit is due to whoever decided on the points at which Netflix’s adaptation of Lemony Snicket’s Series of Unfortunate Events1 was to be split into individual series; with thirteen instalments to play with, various options were certainly possible, but the one chosen makes for some pleasingly neat storytelling. The biggest mystery set up in ‘The Austere Academy’, the first story of Series Two – namely, to what do the mysterious letters VFD refer? – is resolved in ‘The Carnivorous Carnival’, the finale of the same series. Well, I say ‘resolved’; there’s plenty left that the three Baudelaire orphans don’t know, because that’s one of the key themes or motifs or plot drivers of the whole saga, but they at least find out – here be spoilers – that VFD stands for Volunteer Fire Department, and that the aforementioned Volunteer Fire Department is a secret organisation which uses codes and disguises and a special sort of miniature telescope with a Swiss-army-knife-esque range of capabilities, and to which a host of people the Baudelaires have encountered belong (or belonged, since most of those people have now died in unfortunate circumstances). Their parents were in it. Their former guardians Montgomery Montgomery and Josephine Anwhistle were in it. And the repulsive villain Count Olaf, who has been scheming to get his hands on their fortune by whichever unscrupulous means he thinks might work since Episode One, is also apparently in it.
 
I don’t imagine these firefighters are volunteers, but you never know.
This revelation explains rather a lot. It explains why a secret passage runs from under the Baudelaire mansion (or the site where it was before it was razed to the ground, rather) to the lift shaft of an apartment block whose penthouse is owned by Esmé Squalor, Count Olaf’s girlfriend. It explains why Jacques Snicket, who was doing his very best to help the Baudelaires and their cause until Count Olaf murdered him, had the same tattoo on his left ankle that Count Olaf does. It explains why the various costumes in Madame Lulu’s back room, where the Baudelaires found the documents that informed them about VFD, bear remarkable resemblance to the various costumes with which Count Olaf has disguised himself at various times in order to evade the authorities. What it doesn’t explain is how individuals as noble as the Baudelaires’ parents could have belonged to the same society as individuals as wicked as Olaf and Esmé. The trappings are the same – the tattoo, the costumes, the special VFD spyglass – but the behaviours, the purposes, the values, are so vastly different. So which side represents the authentic version of what VFD is supposed to be?

That’s the question Klaus Baudelaire asks Madame Lulu, aka school-librarian-turned-Volunteer Olivia Caliban, as per my opening quotation. “Jacques said there was a time when VFD was noble,” she replies. “They were dedicated to putting out fires, literal and figurative. There was a schism. You know what that means?”

Klaus does, of course, because he’s very well read. “A division between members of the same organisation.”

Olivia nods. “One side decided it was better to start fires.”

So then, the organisation is supposed to be a noble one, but some of its members diverged from that authentic mission of putting out fires and started to do the opposite. They are completely opposed to what VFD truly stands for – and yet they still bear its trappings. They still have the tattoos and the costumes. They still know the locations of the secret passages and the correct code phrases. They look as if they belong to the organisation, to enough of an extent that an outsider might suppose that the whole organisation were as wicked as they are. They are wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognise them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorn bushes, or figs from thorn bushes? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognise them by their fruits.2 – Matthew 7:15-20
 
Grapes, not on a thorn bush. Oh dear, I really want some grapes now.
A false prophet bears the trappings of a real one. He looks like a Christian; he knows the right things to say. How can you tell whether he belongs to the authentic strand of the Church, or the divergent strand that’s completely opposed to what the Church truly stands for? Jesus tells us: by his fruits. Logically, a plant only produces fruits according to what kind of plant it is – vine or thornbush, healthy or diseased. That much is straight out of Genesis 1:12, as well. What a plant produces reveals which sort of plant it is.

But what does that mean once you step out of the metaphor and start trying to apply it to human beings? What are these ‘fruits’ Jesus is talking about – these things that a false prophet produces and may be identified by?

Well, it’s always a good principle, when one wants to know what something represents in the Bible, to check out the contexts in which it shows up in the Torah, given that that’s the exegetical core of the whole business. Most of the references to fruit (פְּרִי, p’rī) or producing fruit (פרה, prh) in the Pentateuch are, predictably, about literal fruit, or about increased numbers of human beings; the first instance of a metaphor similar to Jesus’ in Matthew 7 that I can find comes from this chunk of Deuteronomy:

For you know how we lived in the land of Egypt, and how we passed through the midst of the nations through which you passed. And you have seen their detestable things, their idols of wood and stone, silver and gold, which are with them. Beware lest there be among you a man or woman or clan or tribe whose heart is turning away today from the LORD our God to go and serve the gods of those nations. Beware lest there be among you a root bearing poison and wormwood, and when he hears the words of this oath, he blesses himself in his heart, saying, peace shall be mine, though in the stubbornness of my heart I walk – to sweep away the watered with the dry.3 – Deuteronomy 29:16-19

Here, then, it’s really, really clear what the metaphor means: a plant that produces bad stuff stands for a human being who is minded to serve gods other than the LORD; more specifically, it stands for a human being who looks at what God has said and thinks he’s going to be fine if he persists in indulging the inclinations of his own heart. This fits with the whole false-prophet thing: bad fruit isn’t being ignorant of what God has said, but rather knowing what God has said, choosing to follow your own ways instead of his, and declaring a blessing over your decision. A false prophet bears the trappings of authenticity in that he’s aware of God’s revelation of himself, just like a real prophet would be, but he is identifiable as false by the way he refuses to be changed in accordance with that revelation. He is identifiable by the way he does what he feels like, instead of what God commands – thereby committing idolatry – and yet assumes that it will be well with him.

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen “by their fruits shall ye know them” used as if it meant that we can tell whether or not a ministry is faithful to God by whether or not it’s ostensibly successful: did a lot of people show up and pray the prayer, kind of thing. Ostensible success, however, is categorically not a good indicator of faithfulness: if it were, the vast majority of the prophets in the Old Testament would have to be relabelled as false ones.4 No, the kind of fruit Jesus was talking about was just obedience, faith in practice. There are going to be guys who talk the talk, he says – who bear the trappings, who know the code phrases – but you’ll be able to tell they’re not the real deal by their failure to walk the walk.

In a way, it’s just obvious, really. At the end of ‘The Carnivorous Carnival’, Count Olaf sets the whole carnival premises alight, destroying all the documents in Madame Lulu’s back room along with everything else on site. He might bear the trappings of an authentic Volunteer, but the fact that he’s going around starting fires instead of putting them out shows that his allegiance is not to the true mission of VFD.5 Likewise, if someone who bears the trappings of an authentic Christian is nevertheless going around advocating following her own ways instead of God’s – putting forward something other than Christ’s death and resurrection as the means of salvation – that shows that her allegiance is not to the true mission of the Church.

Outsiders who don’t know the nature of the group might witness the wicked activities of its false members and consequently wonder whether the whole group and its cause isn’t likewise wicked – like Klaus wondered about VFD. Those of us who belong, however, and know what our community’s true mission is, and that it is noble, can tell the true members from the false ones by whether or not they pursue that mission. We can tell false prophets by the fact that, although they know what God says, they don’t let it shape their lives, and don’t see anything wrong with that.

We’re going to encounter false prophets – that much Jesus assures us of – and the more experience we have of good fruit, the more easily we’ll be able to tell the bad. So let’s strive not to make the mistake of blessing ourselves as we walk in the stubbornness of our hearts, but rather to cling to the truth that blessing and peace are only ours because Jesus shouldered the punishment for all our stubbornness and idolatry, and, by gifting us his own righteousness in exchange, changed our nature so that we can bear good fruit instead of bad. An altogether Fortunate Series of Events, wouldn’t you say?

Footnotes



3 Again, whole chapter: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Deuteronomy+29&version=ESVUK. You’ll have spotted that my translation differs slightly: I felt it was a tad misleading to stick with the ESV’s ‘bitter fruit’ for ‘wormwood’, in that the use of the word ‘fruit’ implied an even tighter connection between the two passages I discuss in this post, and once one has made one change, that sort of opens the floodgates for a host of others. My rendering is, predictably, clunkier.

4 Consider, say, Isaiah 6, where God explicitly tells Isaiah that nobody’s going to listen to his prophecies: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=isaiah+6&version=ESVUK.

5 And I couldn’t very well leave without giving you a link to this hilarious song about Count Olaf, now could I? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsS3reVFLJI

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