Voices

 There’s something off-kilter if you care more about what strangers say about you than what God says about you or how they perceive you rather than how your Father does. It’s a valid observation given that all it takes for many believers to shrink back into their shells like some skittish turtle is being called a name, usually, one that ends in phobic. Either that or one that ends in the dreaded three letters IST. At some point, some intrepid heathen will come up with a combination of the two, maybe phobeist, and that will be that. Everyone will be silent for fear of being labeled, even though they know that they are not what they’re being called.

The devil doesn’t want what’s best for you, and his minions don’t have your best interests at heart. It may seem obvious to most, but some within Christendom, especially some in leadership, fall for the trick time and again. Some smug talking head keeps on about how Christians need to be less confrontational and have empathy for those struggling with their vices and perversions; then maybe we could find some common ground. The next thing you know, men in dresses are bouncing toddlers on their knees and reading books like why Bobby has two mommies and you should too in the church sanctuary!

That’s the trick. That’s the lie. That’s the bait and switch: the insistence that they are struggling with their sin. They’re not struggling with their sin, are they? They’re celebrating it, they’re proud of it, it has become their identity, and nothing else matters in this world than the proliferation of their particular perversion.

Suppose I’m remorseful, repentant, or regretful. In that case, if I no longer want to practice what I know to have been harmful to my well-being, I don’t flaunt it, nor do I insist that others do as I did, or else they’re a hateful bigot, worse than Hitler, worthy of execution, and not fit to dwell among mankind.

It’s funny how the church always has to concede, give up territory, be silent, and retreat. It’s funny how with each new push toward deeper darkness, it’s parents that are in the wrong for trying to protect their children from perverts, and shepherds that are in the wrong for trying to protect their sheep from the wolves.

Look back to ten years ago and list all the things you were told you would never see, things that would never happen, things the enemy would not have the brazenness to attempt, that have already happened. Every single one has come to pass, and then some.

We’ve come to the point where academics and university professors are trying to float the idea that sexual attraction to children by adults isn’t always immoral. They’re slowly pushing the narrative that it’s a preference, no more sinister than if you like chocolate or vanilla custard.

They’ve succeeded in pushing the Overton window so far in such a short time that we’re looking in the mirror and recognizing a sleazier, more debased version of Sodom staring back at us.

This could not have occurred without the direct aid of the supposed generals of God’s army. Not all, but most, whether through omission or full-throated support, have aided in the corruption and decay of decency and morality.

When even the godless are starting to insist that society starts pumping the breaks on this experiment in debauchery yet, pastors and leaders of denominations are waving them off, saying let’s give it a minute and see where it goes; you know your nation is in trouble. That’s putting it mildly. Dire straits is a more apt description as to where we are but wait until next June when pastors will have their churches wrapped in rainbow flags and show up to deliver their Sunday sermon in drag in honor and support of the movement.

See, there you go again, exaggerating. I’m with you up until the point where you jump the shark. You’ve only got six months to wait to see whether I’m right. What’re six months in the grand scheme of things?

No, this is not revelation; it’s a conclusion based on the knowledge of the enemy. The devil always tries to outdo himself. He is not content with the status quo as most churches are. If yesterday he took a finger, you can bet tomorrow he’ll try to take a hand. This is why compromising ourselves to a consensus was never going to work. Last year’s compromise was the starting point for this year’s negotiations. You can never give enough to satisfy the devil until he has the whole. Yet, somehow, we’ve talked ourselves into believing that God will be satisfied with anything less than your all. If the devil won’t take anything less than your all, what makes you think God will?

Say what you will, but the devil’s kids are committed. They cut off pieces of themselves, sow new parts on, take experimental drugs that will likely cause them to spiral into uncontrollable depression, stunt their maturation, thereby having the bone density of an eel, suffer hair loss, hormonal imbalances, all so they can hate the new version of themselves as thoroughly as they hated the old. That’s dedication. It’s a dedication to self-destruction, but dedication nonetheless.

Most Christians won’t even kneel when they pray because they have sensitive skin, and it’s a tad uncomfortable. They’ll keep quiet for fear of words yet have convinced themselves they will stand stoically in the face of persecution. I know, buzzkill. Maybe if I could muster up some pep, perhaps an acapella version of Enemy’s Camp followed by stomping around my office for a few minutes.

I can tell you what encourages me without clinging to delusion or fantasy: Salvation is not collective! God doesn’t grade on a curve! The soul that sins will die, and he who endures to the end will be saved! Beating dead horses isn’t as fun as I hoped, but sometimes it’s necessary to get the point across.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.