Shifting Goalposts

There was a time not long ago when those who dared warn of the slippery slope of validating abomination were deemed, alarmists. When with love and kindness they tried to explain that sin is never satisfied, and darkness will not relent until it consumes all in its path, even those they considered brothers and sisters in Christ brought out the long knives and gleefully re-enacted the assassination of Julius Caesar on the marble steps of the theater of Pompey.

The godless applauded and cheered; they hoisted those with blood-soaked hands high atop their shoulders and rewarded them with baubles, trinkets, and appearances on Oprah and Larry King.

What’s the harm? They said with well-practiced looks of empathy for those demanding salvation while glorying in their sin, and contempt for those insisting that you must choose one or the other. Who are we to judge? Doesn’t love win in the end anyway? Give in to this one thing. Make this one compromise, and we can move on.

And so, because much of the church has lost the stomach for a real battle and has had cowardice bred into it by fanciful storytellers who twist the Word of God to ingratiate themselves to the world, the church relented.

In an instant rainbow flags were waving from church spires, pastors were competing among themselves as to who was most tolerant and welcoming, and those who really wanted to show the world how loving and all-embracing Christians could be, dragged their pre-teen children to parades to watch grown men simulate sex acts on floats, and prance around half-naked. Don’t you dare look away little Suzy, we wouldn’t want anyone thinking we disapprove of someone’s sexual orientation, now would we?

Before they knew what was happening, the goalpost shifted anew. Now it wasn’t about homosexuals being able to marry; it was about approving and validating drag queens, crossdressers, and other odd misfits with mental issues.

What could be the harm? They said. It’s just people who want to express themselves in a unique way. And so, churches opened their doors to drag queen storytime, where convicted pedophiles, grown men with criminal records dressed to look like women, read stories to children, then cuddled, wrestled, and plaid with them, because, you know, it’s normal, and that’s how you show love. Don’t you dare squirm in that bearded lady’s lap little Bobby, we wouldn’t want anyone thinking we are calling their gender identity into question, now would we?

Before the pastors could pick up the phone and cancel their tee time to deal with the now clear and present danger, the goalpost shifted yet again. Now, if you don’t embrace, validate, and acknowledge that parents giving hormone blockers to five-year-olds are brave and noble, you’re a bigot and a hater, and you have no love in your heart.

Now, if you don’t make your children available for indoctrination, and take issue with mentally ill pederasts and pedophiles being welcome into grade schools and children’s churches, you are an enemy of progress. It’s akin to welcoming the wolf into the sheep stall and chasing all the sheepdogs away. What could go wrong, I wonder?

When nine-year-old autistic boys dressed up to look like girls can dance and strip on a stage while perverted old men throw money at them and cheer is not only deemed the new normal but something to be celebrated, you know that rock bottom is not afar off.

We have come to the point where major news outlets are openly discussing pedophilia in a positive light, where pressure is being brought to bear on legislators to lower the age of consent for sexual congress, and through it all, the pied pipers of Christendom keep repeating the same tired question: What could be the harm? What could be the harm? 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea Jr.