God Does Whatever He Feels Like

Mark Shea is wound up.  Perhaps to much caffeinated chocolate.  Try the carob Mark. But then again, I agree with you.

…not a painting, not a scorch, not a photograph.

imageThat’s cuz it’s the real thing. Challenge to Skeptics: If it’s medieval forgery made by and for primitive suckers then get with the program. We live in the 21st century. There’s nothing technological a medieval could do that we can’t do ten times better and faster. So make another one.  But do it using the 14th century tech you say created this.  And don’t give me this piece of carob on the right…,,,and call it chocolate.  If that thing on the right is a “reproduction” of the Shroud then Justin Bieber is Enrico Caruso.

[…]

Not that Catholic faith rests on  the Shroud.  Millions of Christians have lived and died never so much as having heard of, let alone seen, it.  But such grace notes are kindnesses from a God who, under carefully controlled laboratory conditions and despite advice from the finest ideologues money can buy, does whatever he feels like.

God in his lab

It’s a reminder that God, under carefully controlled laboratory conditions,
can do whatever he likes

Never heard it expressed quite like that before. Mark Shea, over in his Catholic and Enjoying It blog is answering a reader.

A reader writes:

. . . Merely because there is no biblical reference to something does not make it a fake. The Bible is not intended to be the Big Book of Everything. John himself attests that there are plenty of things Jesus said and did that don’t make it into the biblical record (Jn 21:25). So lack of mention in Scripture does not necessarily make something a fake.

Likewise, the Shroud’s emergence into the documentary record in the 14th century doesn’t necessarily mean it was created at that time. Indeed, one of the problems of the Shroud is that nobody, even today, can make another one, which argues for its genuineness.

. . .  It’s a reminder that God, under carefully controlled laboratory conditions, can do whatever he likes . . .