I’m not a big fan of canned or prepackaged. That’s not to say I don’t eat absolute junk more often than not, but other than Spam, which, let’s face it, the only way to make comestible was to can it, I’d rather skip the metallic taste in the back of my throat if I can help it.
The same goes for sermons or talks I give. That’s not to say
I don’t spend time in prayer, meditation, reading the word, and preparing, but
as far as putting together presentations with slides and pictures, diagrams,
and charts, that’s just not me. To be clear, I don’t look down on well-prepared
talks, nor do I diminish the work put into them; it’s just not the way I work.
My thinking has always been that even if you take the time
and painstakingly prepare a six-course meal of various delicacies, from boar,
to elk, to duck, oh my, it does nothing for you if the person coming over for
dinner declares that they are strict vegan the moment they walk through your
door.
I may have a great talk, all polished and ready, that will do
nothing for you because it’s not what you needed to hear. Sure, you can cram a
bit more head knowledge in there, ooh and aah at some factoid or another, but
as far as the message impacting you like a rogue asteroid, that’s unlikely to
happen.
Last week I was asked to speak at a conference in California,
and because I’ve known the people putting it on for the longest time, I agreed.
As I was sitting in the back of the amphitheater getting the lay of the land
and taking in the atmosphere, I had an epiphany of sorts. The godless are so
giddy and relentless in their lunacy because they expected more of a fight from
the church than the church actually put up.
We surrendered as soon as war was declared, not one shot
fired, not one casualty had on either side, just plain white-bellied surrender.
What’s worse is that we surrendered what wasn’t ours to surrender in the first
place. We surrendered those God-given intangibles like life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness which were gifted to us with the presupposition that we
would hold to them, value them, and defend them.
We did none of those things. Maybe we thought they weren’t
worth defending, or perhaps we were just too cowardly to stand up and say no,
but either way, the ghouls and gargoyles who dream of your enslavement every
waking moment feel as though they have carte blanche to do whatever they want
for as long as they wish.
If there is still an America, our children’s children will
look back on this time and hang their heads in shame. They will see us not as
heroes who made the best of a bad situation but as cowards who gave up
everything for the illusion that a piece of cloth over our faces and a jab in
the arm would somehow make us immortal.
All men die! It is the way of things. The how and when of it
is not up to us, no matter how in control we think ourselves to be.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea, Jr.
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