Job CCXXII

 Two things can be true at the same time. Water is both necessary for the continuity of life, but it can also kill. You can’t go without water for more than three days, but you can also drown in a pond if you don’t know how to swim.

God can be love and an all-consuming fire simultaneously. In fact, He is both of these things. The contemporary church has been laser-focused on His love for so long that they’ve forgotten, dismissed, or ignored that He is also an all-consuming fire. It’s the only rational explanation as to why so many take liberties with Him, speak in His name, or shamelessly make up lies regarding their stature in His eyes, and how they’ve gotten to experience what no individual in the Bible has.

Look at me! Look at me! I’m not just your average, run-of-the-mill special; I’m extra special, the most special, and I know that because I got a guided tour of heaven in my physical form and was even asked to give God my two cents about how to better run the universe! Sorry, pumpkin, but being delusional nowadays isn’t special; it’s ordinary and commonplace.

Even those who had a glimpse into the spiritual world, those who had the honor of seeing beyond the physical, were so rare as to stand out throughout the four-thousand-year span of the Biblical record. Through it all, there doesn’t seem to have been a shortage of false prophets, seers, revelators, or teachers, but the supply of the authentic was always finite in comparison. That should tell us something, but our need for experience over relationship makes us disregard what was for the illusion of what could be.

There will always be more false prophets than true prophets of God. There will always be more false teachers than true ministers of the Word who rightly divide it. It has always been the case, and will continue to be thus until the return of Jesus. The only thing that has changed from generation to generation is the numbers, not as far as percentages, but the volume itself. The more populated the earth becomes, the more false prophets there will be, because the enemy understands the math behind deception more readily than most preachers.

Technology has also allowed them to reach a broader audience, or in fishermen's parlance, get more lines in the water, and the more lines you have in the water, the likelier the chance of getting a nibble.

Could you imagine the sort of following David Koresh would have had, had all the social media platforms been around when he was trying to convince everyone he was the reincarnate Christ? The wise among us still would have pointed out that Jesus needing coke bottle glasses seemed a bit iffy, but the reach would have been broader, and the gullible would have been more numerous, to be sure.

People without an anchor, those who are not rooted in Christ and the Word, tend to gravitate toward extremes, however those extremes might manifest themselves. Rather than purposefully picking up their crosses and following after Jesus, they spend their days ricocheting from one guardrail to the other, like some out-of-control projectile, until they reach terminal velocity and leap over the guardrail altogether.

I’ve seen people oscillate between insisting you have to wear homespun linen tunics to church, and insisting you can show up in a wife-beater and a pair of board shorts, to then giving up on going to church altogether because those in attendance were unwilling to submit themselves to them and follow their meandering path.

Jesus is not some fixed point off in the distance, so far away that He’s almost imperceptible, giving us license to wander about on switchbacks until we end up in the same spot we started. He is near, right before us, and sticks closer than a brother, keeping pace, and leading us the way we must go.

I’ve never once considered what I was wearing when the trials of life were so pronounced that the only thing I could do was fall on my face before God and weep. It’s in those moments that the pretense, posturing, and pontification of whether you should use cologne or have gel in your hair when you come before God are stripped away and become irrelevant. When your heart is overwhelmed, there is nothing performative about your brokenness, nor are you concerned about how others perceive you in that moment.

What will others say if they see me crying? Who cares? What will others say if they see me fall on my face before God with groanings and heart cries? Who cares? I am not in the presence of God to impress others or elevate their opinion of me or my spiritual maturity. I am in the presence of God to feel His embrace, to feel His comfort, to feel His joy and His peace that surpasses understanding.

Job wasn’t looking to impress anyone. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him. It’s obvious he wasn’t looking his best. He was not wearing fine linens, nor was he freshly bathed. He no longer held any clout with his contemporaries or even those of his own household. He was at his lowest, likely lower than any of us have ever been, so much so that we cannot fully relate to his situation. Chances are his flesh reeked of putrefaction as he lay in a pile of ashes, but God still heard him when he cried out, and did not turn away because he wasn’t wearing his Sunday best.

The only ones who will judge your appearance for good or ill are other people. God cares not for your garments, whether they are made of linen or cotton, whether they are freshly pressed or have some wrinkles to them. There’s no bouncer at the door checking if you’re freshly shaven or if you’re wearing cologne. He looks at the heart, for that is what He desires to make His throne.

But what about the man who didn’t have on a wedding garment at the king’s feast? If it’s true that you don’t have to wear a three-piece suit to approach God, why was that man kicked out? That was a parable not about the outer garments of the individual but the inward condition of his heart. If you plan on attending the wedding feast of the Lamb, then know that His expectation is that you be washed, made clean, born again, transformed, and sanctified, without spot or wrinkle, for nothing wicked or defiled will enter His kingdom. You can’t sneak your way into heaven. You can’t fake your way into His wedding feast. There is a list, and if your name isn’t on it, there’s no one you can bribe, cajole, or intimidate into letting you in.

What Jesus said to Nicodemus holds true to this day, and beyond to the last day: unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God!

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.