And this is what happens when Evangelicals don’t shut up.
If only they’d followed my earlier advice and kept their traps shut.
(And this linked on the same Evanjellicle site that fawned all over Martin Luther King, Jr.)
I suspect the Evangelical church—if we can call it a church* with a straight face—is going the way of the Democratic Party. I suspect it, like the American Left, cannot walk back the sentiments it has expressed in the heats of passion.
Neither group has the gift of reflection and self-criticism, and both will attempt to double down on their errors in judgment.
When that happens, and when it occurs to church-goers that they have lost the consolations and encouragements of a serious religious life, when the emptiness of soul begins to crush their lives, where will they turn? Some conspicuous personalities have turned to the Catholic Church, the Eastern Church, etc., but the typical middle-class, scrunchy-faced, entertainment besotted pew-warmer is not likely to wrap himself in a self-vindicating change of venue.
Where will he go and what will he be seeking?
* You might read three typical and representative pieces offering the glib sensibilities of modern Evangelicalism:
Laughter certainly has to be the best medicine.
One choice Religious Flake (and hysterical consumer of fake news) solemnizes his post-11/9 breakdown here:
Even if Trump doesn’t/can’t carry through all the terrible things he repeatedly vowed to do to Muslims, immigrants, POC, women, and LGBTQ folks – and its unconscionable that so many Americans voted for him, thinking/hoping he could – the cultural validation he gives those who take his words and translates them into action is chilling.
Billy responds in the comment column:
I’d always hoped that we were building, building, building toward being a better society, but in actuality we’ve been paving over issues that were never solved. It has to be all ripped up, dug out and made firm before we can even start building again.
More shovel-ready jobs!
I must admit to a little discomfort these days. I’ve been watching more television only because of the recent apocalyptic election. The Hive is acting like a bunch of creeps standing outside the Ladies Room watching the women emerge and making rude comments about their suitability as females.
“Reporters” have collected around the Trump Tower, they are watching people emerge from the elevators, and they are passing judgment on them as to their suitability for a cabinet post. They are offering little biographical vignettes and causes for concern about the loss of our personal freedoms, blah, blah, blah. They don’t know why anybody is there, they don’t know who is being considered and for what, but they are certain America needs to worry because the fate of the world hangs on these choices.
But I must insist on worrying about something much more important.
During the commercial breaks I noticed an ad for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
I confess I don’t know what in the world to make of the movie. I hope The Gospel Concoction soon has some guidance for us as Christians.
What is the Christian message in the film?
- Where is the Gospel in the storyline?
- Who is the redeemer-figure?
- What does the movie tell us about our culture?
- What valuable Kingdom Truths will emerge that we can discuss with the unchurched around the water cooler?
- After going to this movie, how can I relate Biblical values to my neighbor down the street as he walks his dog?
Let us hope some guru at TGC is on top of this and will supply some answers to these important questions so we can do more of this cultural engagement thingy that has become so important to us.
Perhaps the serenity is no bigger than a man’s hand, but the winds are beginning to subside.
The blowhards are still there, still drawing paychecks, and still defending the unjustifiable, but they’ve taken a painful blow to their middle parts, they are gasping for air, they are trying to stand up straight, and they are primping for the cameras as though their place in the world still exists.
Humorous and pathetic. And ironic, which is always a special treat for me; something to go into my 2016 Prayer of Thanksgiving for sure.
The nation has looked like a playpen. Or an asylum. More like an asylum.
There is still a lot more grousing to come of course, still some street violence to demonstrate one’s deepest personal virtues, but still, the Season of Idiots appears to have run its course, and the idiots have won handily.
As I prophesied.
But Bach still speaks to us, Dvorák, Rachmaninoff, Dante, Blake….
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