Button your lip. Don’t let the shield slip.
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask.
And if they try to break down your disguise with their questions –
You can hide, hide, hide,
Behind paranoid eyes.
You put on our brave face and slip over the road for a jar.
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar,
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd –
You hide, hide, hide,
Behind petrified eyes.
You believed in their stories of fame, fortune and glory.
Now you’re lost in a haze of alcohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high –
And you hide, hide, hide,
Behind brown and mild eyes.
Behind Paranoid Eyes
Before we begin, can I get your attention, students? I can already hear the flatulent disagreements coming from the Churchian crowd, so let me help you:
1. I am not nice, Christians are nice and nice is love and God is love so God is nice and since I am not nice to Churchians, I am bad.
2. God is a Conservative and Republican American and we are to hold up those values no matter what. So if a candidate aligns with us on a single issue such as abortion, then everything else must also be Christian.
3. There is nothing wrong with the World System. We are called to be moral citizens of that system and shine like lights as we act exactly like the world in every way except for the bars and strip clubs, those are obviously bad and god wants us to have all the good and sacrifice just the bad.
4. You, JC, are bad. You fell and drank and fought and sinned and have no moral platform to speak from because your failings are public knowledge while ours remain secret. So as long as people don’t know about our backsliding, bitterness, unforgiveness, porn habit, lying, apathy, complacency and hate filled gossip, we can judge you but you can’t say anything to us. (Cue Nellie Olson from Little House sticking out her tongue).
Ok. Said it for you. You are free to move on now.
This morning as I sat down to peruse social media before I began my day I literally sat in shocked, impotent silence. I browsed through the feeds as all of the Amerikan Christians began their days all over the country.
There were the obligatory cat videos, the Trump is God’s choice memes, the inspirational scriptures splattered across pretty pictures as if a gum drop fairy exploded, leaving it’s day-glo primary colors as grim evidence of the carnage. You could take your pick of millionaire preachers peddling encouraging garbage to a sugar addicted audience. I scrolled through Christian posts that touted kicking out all illegal immigrants, building walls, church defense seminars, love for guns and shooting your enemy, anti healthcare, anti poor and pro corporate memes and many that equated being Amerikan with being Christian.
Another day in Laodicea.
Happy people going to work, cleaning their houses, raising their children and thanking God for another day of peace and prosperity here in the Land of Promise.
And as I looked, I couldn’t help but juxtapose.
Last week I posted a picture and story of one of the orphans in Kenya that was crying because the other kids ate his banana. There was no other food to give him for the day. 172 Christians saw it, scrolled past and went and grabbed a processed snack from the pantry to buttress their already fat stomachs. Not one person commented, not one person gave. Hell, it didn’t even get a sad face emoji. I guess they are mad at me so forget hungry babies, they’ll show me, alright.
I have up to 25 girls between 8-13 waiting for a home to be finished in Honduras. A place where they will be safe from traffickers or in many cases, safe from their own family that prostitutes them every single night. As I lay me down to sleep…
Last night within one hour of the town where I currently am, I discovered up to six girls engaged in prostitution. One looked like a consenting adult but it’s hard to tell when they are strung out on drugs. The others were young which means that they are victims of human trafficking, stolen from their family and fed drugs and tortured in order to keep them docile for the oil field guys that care more about their own release than they do that they are paying to rape someone’s daughter.
Thank God it’s not my daughter. Thank God it’s not my family. Thank God that I am free to put on my Hillsongs CD and surround myself with Christian decorations in my warm and comfortable home.
I know, It is just so hard to care about some place that you have never personally seen when you live in the middle of the Amerikan Babylon and are dazzled by the neon lights and hazy glow of the television god.
Awhile ago in a small town where I had lived, I noticed an engraving on the facade of an old building near the downtown. Up near the very top it reads ‘Salvation Army 1905’. At one time the Army was here, playing their music out on the streets and preaching the Gospel message to all who came within shouting distance. That building is now an Eagles club where locals drown their sorrows in booze and place their hope in pull tabs. As for the Salvation Army, it is now a thrift store downtown.
Has sin decreased to the point that we no longer need that sort of Gospel or have we simply backslid as a church to the point that we no longer care?
When did the golden calf god that you made in your own image somehow take priority over the scriptures? When did the command to go into all the world change to “go into the world to make money right here at home”?
I have been in travail for the church planted in the country where my old flesh was born. So many do not know the truth here, so many. And whose fault is that if not ours? What excuse will we offer for our apathy and complacency to God? We stand on the brink of judgment and still we will not budge. All it would take is for China to dump their reserves of the US dollar in exchange for the Euro and we would be plunged into a depression to rival 1929, if not an all out economic collapse and yet here we are, eating and drinking without a care in the world beyond our own homes.
Rich and increased with goods and in need of nothing. I have a job, praise ye the Lord, I don’t need to know how to pray. My family is safe in our Churchian cocoon, surrounded by niceness, the World System has been good to me!
What exactly will it take to awaken the church from its slumber and for us to once again be stirred by the things that once stirred us long ago and far away from where we are now?
A few years ago I had the option of buying a schoolhouse that sat directly between two Indian reservations. For 5,000 dollars we could train natives to preach, we could train young people for missions for no charge. We could set up a church where no others existed and feed the hungry, clothe the naked and preach the good news to a forgotten, sin-sick and desperate people. For over two years we told of the need and not one person ever stood up to help, not one.
In Houston we reached out to street kids, ministered at AIDS hospices, delivered food to the poverty pantry and stood for the truth in the midst of a seeker sensitive stronghold. And regardless of all that we did, when we came under a brutal attack from the enemy, we looked around and no one stood with us.
Everywhere that I go and in every nation that has believers who write to me, the need is overwhelming, the potential is there and yet no one seems to care. And I don’t get it, my friends, I just don’t get it.
What is this madness that causes us to ignore the obvious, present need and yet buy some television preacher multiple homes on both coasts or a Rolls Royce?
What are the blinders that have fallen over our eyes that cause us to sleep while our house burns all around us? Why do we never mobilize and give God no rest until the nation we have been assigned to is one that He blesses once again?
Why did Hudson Taylor opt to give up everything to take the Gospel to mainland China and yet in our age, we never mounted a meaningful effort to save Russia when the opportunity presented itself? What did he have that we don’t?
What drove the Salvation Army in the early years that we don’t have now? What would cause them to take over city after city and we can’t even witness to our own neighbor?
Perhaps the real question should be, what caused that wonderful evangelistic army to become a ministry of thrift stores that had no problem flying its banners above a halftime show where some secular tart sang songs- not of the old ship of Zion and how God can still save you from an eternal hell but instead it was songs of worldly passions and lusts?
God help us.
Why have we stopped caring?
Is there no balm in Gilead any more? Is there no righteousness left that can stop our assimilation into this Amerikan Babylon? I do not know what exit off the highway led us to this ghetto called Laodicea but I watch as opportunity after opportunity slips away both here and abroad and I have to admit, it gets hard to hope that we will ever see our way clear of this place.
But hope I must and hope you must. Because we were born into the Kingdom for a time such as this. This darkness is the time that we were born for, right now.
If the church is asleep, we are here to awaken the Elect inside of it.
If the nation is slipping down a slope towards wrath, we are here to stop it.
In order to see that happen you are going to have to put down the Kool-Aid they have been giving you, the one laced with tares, and think clearly for yourself.
These days of the forgotten first love and Laodicean worship are the days we were chosen for, before the foundation of the earth.
The darkness is not happening to us- we are called to happen to that darkness.
But we must do something and do it now. Now is the time to shake yourself from your slumber and take back the ground that the enemy is squatting on. You must act now, church. You must act now for the sex trafficked, for Natives on the reservation, for the squatters that are forgotten and for the AIDS victim and the dispossessed in your own back yard, for the single mom and the Meth addict. You must act now or forever hold your peace.
And you will hold your peace with no peace in your heart because you loved your own comfort and security more than you loved God. You have given up nothing for the pearl you display and that is exactly the value that you place on it. You sit in your comfortable home while young girls are sold online in or near your town. You overfeed your doughy flesh while a baby cries for a single banana. You hide behind jaded eyes while a fake Christian holds up the evangelical buzzwords in our highest office, never even considering what medicine you are swallowing or what your hypocrisy has done to our testimony towards the last few generations.
We fiddle while Rome burns.
You must go, it is a command! And if you can not go yourself, by God, send someone else in your stead!
Do not be a part of the Amerikan Babylon but rather be the one who tears it apart, brick by corrupted brick.