It used to be that we laughed off the loons. We properly identified them as crazy people, as unhinged, as an infinitesimal minority that was good for a chuckle. With each passing day, however, there’s less chuckling as the realization dawns on more and more of us that the madness has spread, it has metastasized, and is drawing more adherents daily.
It’s no surprise, really, even the most fringe of things like Scientology, or veganism gets its share of the collective to follow suit and live by the guidelines set forth by their proverbial luminaries who blazed the path, but their numbers were always contained.
There are only so many people you can talk into eating Brussel sprouts for the rest of their lives, or into believing that they are the byproduct of some alien life form’s ill-timed bowel movement. This was a given. It was something we could count on, and as such, didn’t concern ourselves with.
There were other things for us focus on, trivial, trifle, irrelevant things, things that occupied our time, and kept us from seeing what was going on in front of our faces because it’s far easier arguing semantics than taking a stand.
When those sent to warn of what we are currently seeing when something could have actually been done about it, they were met with derision and vitriol, not from those of the world, but those of the church. We had more important topics to dissect, such as whether the earth was flat or round, or if Jesus had auto-tuned his hearing aid not to hear any prayers or supplications unless preceded by His Hebrew name.
When those topics waned a bit, we rushed headlong into searching out things that weren’t there, while ignoring those staring us in the face. Meteors, portals, black holes, oh my! So many things to be on the lookout for!
Why focus on anything we could affect as individuals? It’s the meteors, man, that’s the real threat. Even if they were, what could you do about it? Nothing? Figured.
While the church was stargazing, and writing emotional ‘I told you so’ letters to all those left behind because they didn’t believe in a pre-tribulation rapture, the darkness continued to chip away at the foundations, the pillars, and the load-bearing walls, until the creaks were audible. That only emboldened them more, and with a renewed vigor, they set about getting bigger chisels, while the household of faith comforted itself with mantras like ‘that’s never going to happen here,’ or, ‘by the time that happens here we’ll be long gone.’
The same people who were amused to no end about the idea of Communism rearing its ugly head in America, are now sending me pictures of spray painted hammers and sickles throughout the country. The same people who rolled their eyes at the thought of civil unrest or a revolution are now panicky to the point of losing their composure because they are seeing what some have been warning about for the past three decades.
For the most part, at this juncture, it’s a moot point. We can’t unmake this omelet. The most we can hope for is to put off the ugly bits for a season. I know, not what you want to hear sipping your morning coffee on an ordinary Thursday, but I’ve always been upfront with you. Even if it’s to shield you from unpleasantness, if I were to lie to you, it would still be a lie.
One way or another, the descent into chaos will continue to intensify. Whether it’s cities defunding police, or police walking off the job because they’ll get charged with murder if they dare defend themselves, the end result is still the same.
The gullible and foolhardy will continue to be used to further the nefarious agenda of the string-pullers, and the noose around the neck of free speech and free expression of thought will continue to tighten. Eventually, they will come for the church, as they always do. For the most part, the church will either be staring at the heavens or staring at its navel. Either way, fish in a barrel.
I’ve bummed you out enough for one day, but if it’s any consolation, remember the words of Paul, the apostle who said, if in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.