Draw me a picture of someone with his/her head in the sand.
I read the first two chapters of Ezekiel out of the Message translation and I didn't like it. Don't get me wrong, the translation is fine. I dig it. I didn't like the actual message God gave him:
"I'm sending you to the family of Israel, a rebellious nation if there ever was one. ... hardened in their sin. ... Don't be afraid when living among them is like stepping on thorns or finding scorpions in your bed .... Your job is to speak to them. Whether they listen is not your concern."
At that point I thought of John, the baptist. Just why was he crying in the wilderness and not on the street corner or in a nice clean house with nice clean listeners? Maybe he stanketh.
Neither of these men were socially palatable. They did not tickle a single ear. Neither these two nor several others were welcomed warmly. Few listeners said "Thank you, sir, may I have another?" If there were any Joel Olsteens among the prophets of old, I need to reread Genesis through Malachi to find them. Not even Moses, loved and respected, was full of good news.
It is the end of the week, the end of the month, the threat of mandatory Saturday overtime withdrawn when at last the full team was checked in and working full steam. We've had a wave of a viscious virus causing near death experiences in cubies all around me. The yakkin n hakkin sounded like a typical church congregation when the sermon gets long. Maybe not that bad. After my own personal 10.5 hour day, I could feel the body parts go numb one by one behind the wheel.
Since my only choices were elevator music, country, nerve jangling 21st century pseudo rock n roll, Michael Savage, or silence to fall asleep by, I chose Savage. He at least kept me fired up enough to get in the front door. I think I'll have popcorn for supper. Honey is putting in overtime at the company's annual 2 day festival. I don't have to pretend to keep up my end of a conversation. After this, I will catch the CSI rerun. Tomorrow, we'll see.
The prophets were admired and appreciated only after decades and centuries of hindsight. I look at the political mire, the determination of the enemy, and I cry out here in cyberspace.
There's a couple in our Sunday small group who will not show up if they think a lesson or series of lessons will look at the end times. In their last church in Florida, the pastor spent two solid years discussing it. They are fried. I see a pattern here. The current Christian is so accustomed to the promise of the Rapture happening any moment during this time of comfort and prosperity, they are totally unaware of the possibility of bad times before the baddest ever time of the Tribulation.
A suprised Christian is a vulnerable Christian, one who may cave in to capture by the enemy, one who hasn't prepared himself for the worst. Yes, I too am betting my chips on being taken before the tribulation's 7 years begins. But I am highly suspicious of being persecuted before that happens.
Exactly what is the posture of one whose head is in the sand? Where is the most vulnerable anatomical location?
"I'm sending you to the family of Israel, a rebellious nation if there ever was one. ... hardened in their sin. ... Don't be afraid when living among them is like stepping on thorns or finding scorpions in your bed .... Your job is to speak to them. Whether they listen is not your concern."
At that point I thought of John, the baptist. Just why was he crying in the wilderness and not on the street corner or in a nice clean house with nice clean listeners? Maybe he stanketh.
Neither of these men were socially palatable. They did not tickle a single ear. Neither these two nor several others were welcomed warmly. Few listeners said "Thank you, sir, may I have another?" If there were any Joel Olsteens among the prophets of old, I need to reread Genesis through Malachi to find them. Not even Moses, loved and respected, was full of good news.
It is the end of the week, the end of the month, the threat of mandatory Saturday overtime withdrawn when at last the full team was checked in and working full steam. We've had a wave of a viscious virus causing near death experiences in cubies all around me. The yakkin n hakkin sounded like a typical church congregation when the sermon gets long. Maybe not that bad. After my own personal 10.5 hour day, I could feel the body parts go numb one by one behind the wheel.
Since my only choices were elevator music, country, nerve jangling 21st century pseudo rock n roll, Michael Savage, or silence to fall asleep by, I chose Savage. He at least kept me fired up enough to get in the front door. I think I'll have popcorn for supper. Honey is putting in overtime at the company's annual 2 day festival. I don't have to pretend to keep up my end of a conversation. After this, I will catch the CSI rerun. Tomorrow, we'll see.
The prophets were admired and appreciated only after decades and centuries of hindsight. I look at the political mire, the determination of the enemy, and I cry out here in cyberspace.
There's a couple in our Sunday small group who will not show up if they think a lesson or series of lessons will look at the end times. In their last church in Florida, the pastor spent two solid years discussing it. They are fried. I see a pattern here. The current Christian is so accustomed to the promise of the Rapture happening any moment during this time of comfort and prosperity, they are totally unaware of the possibility of bad times before the baddest ever time of the Tribulation.
A suprised Christian is a vulnerable Christian, one who may cave in to capture by the enemy, one who hasn't prepared himself for the worst. Yes, I too am betting my chips on being taken before the tribulation's 7 years begins. But I am highly suspicious of being persecuted before that happens.
Exactly what is the posture of one whose head is in the sand? Where is the most vulnerable anatomical location?
posted by Jane | 8:08 PM
1 Comments:
Leonard Ravenhill said, "The prophets in their days are fully accepted by God and totally rejected by men."
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