Bryan Cross and Perry Robinson have a predictable pattern. Every now and then they go over to Green Baggins and make their case. They exhume the same two or three decaying arguments they always use.
Perry's ultimate problem is that he doesn't care about the truth. God isn't real to him. God is just an idea. An abstraction. Not the living God. Not a providential presence. But an intellectual construct.
For Perry it's like a game of blackjack, in which you have to play by certain man-made rules. And he's attempting to show that Reformed players are sometimes inconsistent.
But even if they were inconsistent, the question which ought to concern us is whether our beliefs are consistent with revealed truth. It's ultimately irrelevant whether or not what one person says is consistent with what another person says. What good will that do me on my deathbed? What matters is that my beliefs match reality.
Yet Perry is myopically obsessed with scoring tactical points. But that takes us out of the realm of truth and into the realm of games. He's like a gambler in a burning casino who is so absorbed with winning a stack of plastic chips that he's oblivious to the encroaching flames. His chips are melting in the blaze, yet he keeps right on playing. When the firemen arrive and take out the charred corpses, they will find a chip in his clenched fist.
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