Tight

 Perhaps we thought we needed to compete with the world for men’s attention and figured if we preached the whole counsel of God, if we preached the gospel of Jesus Christ in its entirety, and not carving out the bits and parts they wouldn’t like, we’d have so few people sitting in the pews we’d be hard pressed to cover the heating bill, nevermind the bloated benefits package.

As every billionaire is fond of telling their employees when he’s about to fire half of them, sacrifices must be made. They usually don’t do it face to face; it’s too risky. It’s generally via Skype from their yacht somewhere in Cannes because not only did they luck out stealing someone else’s idea, they consider themselves erudite and world-wise, and what better place to rub shoulders with other learned folk?

People in marketing, those who spend their days trying to convince their fellow man that something is too good to be true and they should jump on the deal before it expires, have concluded that getting someone to click on the three-for-two apple corer offer is only half the battle. After they click on the offer, they have to follow through and pay for their new acquisition, then wait the six to eight weeks while it’s shipped from China by a three-fingered toddler who chain smokes a pack of Camel unfiltered a day.

It’s not as though they don’t have to walk a fine line. The product you paid thirty bucks for can’t cost more than five cents to produce, but it can’t be flimsy enough that it breaks on the first coring. Sure, you have two spares, it was a great deal, after all, but it puts a bad taste in your mouth if you can’t get past that first coring successfully. Once the first one is a success, they’re pretty much home free because, let’s face it, how many people use an apple corer more than once?

When it comes to modern-day Churchianity, most of the people that don’t want to be there but come because their wives nagged them, or the girl they’re trying to woo insists that for a man to be her man, he must be very spiritual, will stay put as long as nothing is required or demanded of them. That’s why you have to make the entire thing seamless and pain-free. It can’t get any more pain-free than raising your hand and saying a prayer, then forgetting all about it, can it?

You came in bleary-eyed and with a hangover and a pounding headache. Forty-five minutes later, some sweaty fellow is slapping you on the back, congratulating you for getting saved, and encouraging you to fill out the visitor card and drop it in the offering plate on your way out.

Nothing has changed; you don’t feel saved, you don’t even know what feeling saved is supposed to feel like, but if the guy said it, you must be it, and now you can return to your life as though nothing has changed because nothing has.

You keep going back because you feel you’re making progress with the girl, and sure, they ask for a couple of bucks for every service, but you’ve to got to pay for your entertainment, and other than the talking part, the music’s pretty good.

Your presence confirms true and transformative salvation to the preacher, his insistence that you were saved confirms it for you, and one blind man leads another by the hand, all the while trying hard not to make waves or put you off in any way, shape, or fashion.

As I heard a pastor say once, by way of excusing his reticence to talk about Jesus, “You’ve got to ease them into this whole thing.”

If someone’s at the bottom of the lake drowning, you don’t hand them a straw and tell them to take shallow breaths; you pull them out. The whole notion that we ought not to preach repentance for fear of spooking the visitors is ludicrous. Church without Jesus is unsustainable. The recent hemorrhage of members from all major denominations is a testament to this.

When you look at the letters to the seven churches and realize that even the faithful church received an admonishment to hold fast to that which it possessed, it begins to dawn on you that there is never a point in your Christian walk where you can coast. There is no mountaintop, just a steady climb, and every inch of the way, you must be cautious and aware of pitfalls, snares, diverging paths, rockslides, and predatory beasts that would tear you asunder.

Revelation 3:11, “Behold I am coming quickly! Hold fast what you have, that no one may take your crown.”

Keeping your eyes upon Jesus isn’t just a quaint hymn; it’s proper instruction for the times we are living in. To hold fast is to hold tight, to grip, to ensure that even if someone tries, they will be unable to take your crown.

This isn’t some new revelation or doctrine; these are the words of Jesus to a church that kept His word and did not deny His name. These are souls who persevered, yet they are commanded to hold fast to what they have because the enemy hadn’t stopped pursuing them or trying to devour them.

It’s easy for some to be flippant about salvation nowadays because it is no longer Biblically defined by those tasked with rightly dividing the Word. Eventually, some church will have an Oprah moment where some fool will start pointing at people and yelling, “You’re saved, and you’re saved, and you’re saved!”

Most of the audience will be as stunned as those who got a free car. It came as a surprise to them too.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.