Crossing The Line
Some sick piece of work left me a comment telling me I’m going to Hell for not agreeing with them. Just like that. I’m going to Hell. Accepting Jesus as my Lord and Savior? Doesn’t count. Believing on the Lord Jesus Christ according to Acts 16:31? Nope, doesn’t count. Being born of the Spirit according to John 3:5? Doesn’t count. Because Trump. Yes, it was smarmy, brimming with self-satisfaction and self-righteousness. It was also honest, and full of conviction. I can respect the candor while reserving deadly contempt for taking advantage of the anonymity afforded by the internet.
So how about you? You and I work together. We live in the same neighborhood. We pick up one another’s mail and watch each other’s houses when the other is away for a few days. The reasons don’t matter. That’s what we do in the West. Going on vacation is not viewed as an opportunity to break into your neighbor’s house and steal their stuff. This isn’t Central Asia.
Closer To Home
Let’s talk Church. Your tithe is right alongside with mine in the offering plate. Before the days of separated by 6 feet and fear masks, you and I were cheek-and-jowl, taking in the same sermons Sunday after Sunday. If you think, if you truly think I’m going to Hell because I voted for Donald Trump, I want to hear from you. I bet some of you have even taken my hospitality as I have taken yours. My daughter may have sat your kid. So, let’s hear it. Let’s for once and for all put it out there. Not hiding behind a key board, not thinking it, I want you to tell me, and I want your rationalization.
And then, you need to have the following epiphany: You have spent ALL of your capital. ALL of it. You don’t get to lecture me about anything, every again. After cheering cities going up in flames, establishing “autonomous zones,” and rejected this nation as founded and reformed, you peed away even the illusion of any moral authority.
Your move.
Selah.
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