The Preacher

I have said this before, and I will say it again. Eventually, all things come to blood. If a nation heads in the wrong direction for long enough, good men will die. Here’s the thing though: how can you expect a nation to turn around if you do not pursue that which is great, rather than that which is barely acceptable? How can you expect goodness to come forth by choosing between the lesser of two evils?

Let’s take it a step further: If you believe that America is heading in the wrong direction but you are not willing to fight for what is good nor willing to look the part of a fool for the sake of righteousness; if you continue to be complacent and hope that tomorrow will be no different than today, then let me congratulate you on the murder of your children¹.

For if you truly believe that all things come to blood, and you do not fight today, then you are leaving that fight to your children. You are leaving them to live in a world made worse by your inaction and to either become corrupted by that world, or to be killed by it.

You are leaving them to death.

And if you are that sort of man; if America is a nation composed of men who are willing to make that choice, then we will deserve the death that comes. We will deserve it, because day by day, in a million tiny ways, we will have chosen it.


¹Let me be clear here: if you are fighting for good as well as you know how, I cannot accuse you. But there are those of you who are and have been compromising. Who know it, and need to be confronted with it. You have made easy choices for the very reason that they are easy. I have been one of you. I say, let it end today.

John’s comment made me realize that I might need to be a little clearer about the gauntlet I threw down statement I made last week.

I love reading a good book for the first time. I absolutely love it. There is nothing quite like the excitement that builds as you are masterfully forced to consider new ideas or pulled along in the exploration of some new world or brought face-to-face with a fascinating new character. It is breathtaking and wonderful, and I find it hard to pass up the chance.

It is also overrated.

You see, a good book is an intimate thing. It is a secret conversation with a man or woman of genius, it is a world unto itself, it is Odin’s eye plucked out and traded for magic and secrets, it is a pearl-white drop of wisdom poured out from someone’s soul. And it is deserving of more than just your passing notice.

You might think to say that I am taking this too seriously. I promise you, I’m not. I have and will continue to read almost anything and everything¹ that comes my way with even an ounce of story and an even tinier amount of wit. I will read it, and I will enjoy it.

But given the opportunity, I will delve back into my bookshelves before I will grace the door of the library or allow my shadow to fall across the rack of new releases. To me, reading only new books is like meeting many fascinating people, but only getting to do so once. It is like dating for pleasure. I mean, come on, get married already. Settle down. Have some kids. Commit for crying out loud. To me, a book I’ve read five or six or seven times, is like an old familiar friend. A good book is, without belittling her or it, a little like my wife: well known, somewhat comfortable, but still chock full of secrets.

And I find that it changes the way I read. No longer do I merely read from line to line or page to page, but rather from chapter to chapter, theme to theme, thought to thought. I float atop these books. I swim through them. I know them.

Seriously, you should try it.

¹ Case in point, I remember back when I was seven or eight, Cheez Doodles® started printing a story on the back of each their bags. It was about a castle or something and I think Cheez Doodles® were involved, but the point is, I read it, and liked it, and was disappointed when they stopped. To be even more honest: to this day, I still find myself occasionally checking the back of the bags just in case they’ve started up. Sir Cheez-a-lot was in trouble when they left him, and I’d like to see how things turned out…

Without apology, I would rather read one good book thirty times than thirty good books once.

You?

In Romans 3:19-20 Paul says the following:

Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God. Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin.

Now, I had absorbed the fact that no man has been saved by the works of the law, but there was still a part of me that thought the law technically could  justify someone. You know, if some “hypothetical” man was somehow able to keep the law then he would be saved by the law. But what Paul is telling the us here is that this is not true. Instead, he is saying something along these lines:

To those of you who are trusting in the works of the law, you have completely misunderstood its nature. You are like a carpenter who has a too-short board, and who believes that if he measures it over and over again it will somehow get longer.  Jesus Christ was not made perfect by the Law, but rather, was perfect all along. All the Law did was allow you to contrast His perfection with your gross unrighteousness. The law, to those who are in sin, is nothing more than a tape measure, but you have been trying to use it as a ladder to God.

What do you think?

Just a quick note to confirm what everyone who was interested has already noticed: the online study of Romans has been delayed a few weeks so that the physical meetings I am setting up might have a better start. Sorry for the delay.

Somehow a subscription passed into my wife’s possession to the ever-relevant Today’s Christian Woman, a magazine that answers the really pressing questions, like “Christians and Cosmetic Surgery”.  The resources-you-can-buy-to-tickle-your-soul page, titled ‘enGaGe!’ (except that the letters are all the same size, and not the same color), has advertisements for a sentimental Christmas DVD, some way-too-hip-looking guy hawking coffee-break long “thought-provoking reflections” on “relevant issues,” instructions on proper IM etiquette when communicating via that medium with your busy teenager, and ideas for spiritually scrapbooking your personal faith journey.  The real jewel of the lot is an ad for Come Closer, described as a “beautifully worded invitation to accept Christ’s call to life, love, and breakfast on the beach.”

Ah, there is a time when the great satirist must lay down his quill and roll up his parchments.  He must sigh, slowly shake his head and realize that the world itself has surpassed his even his abilities of producing the bizarre.   Following the (retired!) Dave Barry, each satirist realized that they could not go about lampooning some modern silliness without the necessary disclaimer that he was not making this up.  His services are no longer needed.  The age of the great satirists has surely passed.