weary

I’m weary tonight.

I’m weary of empathy and compassion so often being refused access within the evangelical heart.  It’s a DISEASE.  It’s an epidemic.  It’s a cancer of the soul.

How a brother in Christ goes to his fellow brother, pours his heart out to him; confides that he is being tormented by clinical depression – one that has driven him to the precipice of suicide.

And the response is, “Man up,” “Do some push ups,” or even worse, “You don’t love God.”

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How the social media landscape is crawling with memes and content of people who seem strangely delighted when people fleeing oppressions and tyranny we cannot fathom; horrors that we have had the silverspooned privilege of never having to experience ourselves, are called “animals.”  When victims of horrifying injustices who are peacefully making their voices heard are colluded against and kicked in the teeth ten times harder and their commentary to them is, “Well, if you won’t take it laying down then get on the ship and go back to Africa.  Or Cuba.  Or wherever.”

This is the Christian voice we want the world to hear?  This is a light flashing upon a dark sea?  In what world?

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I’m weary of the elegance of patriotism and the American flag being concocted into a golden calf and a bronze serpent and becoming the god the evangelical unconsciously genuflects before as LORD and MASTER.

I’m weary of the politics of this temporary, corrupt and dying world taking on a more passionate and zealous precedence within the evangelical spirit than the gospel, the great commission and the greatest commands (Matthew 22:36-40).

I am so unspeakably weary.

Weary of the dividing delusions of political-dyed-in-the-wool-gang-mentality-tribalism of “Trump can do no right and Obama could do no wrong;” of “Trump can do no wrong and Obama could do no right.”

I’m weary more than anything of the cowardice and the fear that still somehow exists within my heart at times. I’m weary of the gurgling disgust that festers and lurks within me at this moment where there ought to be peace and overflowing Spirit.

I’m weary of the societal antidotes of empathy and compassion being rejected and dismissed as being too “girly” too “sissy” and too “soft.”

Jesus did not hang His head and breath His last on a Roman cross in order to raise up an army of headstrong, machismo Americans who are too tough to enter into the pain of others or to weep at the plight of those who don’t look like us. He desires an army of compassionate, tender-hearted, grace-loving CHRISTIANS, commissioned and possessed by His Spirit to love everyone in their sight with the same amazing grace that saved a bunch of wretches like us.

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All I know is, when Jesus comes, He won’t care who embraced the Elephant and who embraced the Donkey.

The only thing that will matter when the world is on fire will be who embraced the Lamb.

And who loved his fellow human being as much as he loved himself.

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