My beloved Pastor Wilson, (I am doing my best Apostle Paul imitation here. Most likely I should just be addressing these things to Screwtape and be done with it, but hope does spring eternal.)
My beloved Pastor Wilson of the antebellum-romanticism, who has rendered me quite invisible, reduced to me to nothing more than meaningless background noise, perhaps a disconcerting little squeak you suspect may well be coming from your right front wheel bearings?
I like to think I am at least that important, a disconcerting little squeak, somewhere among the grit and grime of the world.
Alas, he has done this indeed, forced me to squeak impotently into cyberspace, my tiny bits of wisdom, rejected, cast aside. It’s all good, I have friends here, they know me in the outer recesses, where the cool kids don’t get to sit.
Or as one of those defiant teen agers might say, wut-ever.
However, not one known to remain silent for long, should you try to cut me off mid sentence, I am liable to simply write melodramatic blog posts about you, for years and years, or perhaps mold you into a good character for my novel.
Pastor Wilson is doing an expose, a report so to speak, on the state of the church, one he promises will be long, drawn out, wordy, oh, so, so wordy, it may well take him a number of weeks.
I want to say a couple of things about the very first episode of this saga. Point number one, you are not “the church,” your church is not “the church,” it is of course, Jesus Christ’s church and it is much bigger than any of us. He is the One seated at the head of our table, and it is a table packed with an assortment of……tax collectors, feminists, liberals…..Californians even. Don’t faint. The ways of God are vast and mysterious indeed, and He simply likes who He likes. Go figure.
Also, you don’t get to tell Him who He likes.
As to a “minster’s task” you say, “A man who is charged with pulling down strongholds must be a student, therefore, of two things.” Scratch those two things right off the list. You have a much, much bigger problem here. A man, a mere man, can do no such thing. Only God can tear down strongholds, only God can change a heart. Forget that truth at your own peril.
Jude 1:9, “Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee.” Durst not, it means “dare not.”
Whenever the devil says, “Oh yeah, So you and what army,” and your response is to puff up your chest and gather your men, you have just lost the whole war. You might as well just pull out your sword and cut off your own ear. And why shouldn’t you? You haven’t been using your ear to actually hear what scripture has to say anyway.
As if to reaffirm this foolishness, Pastor Wilson says, “In the meantime, speaking of traditions, there are no pacifist traditions left. All worthy traditions must be militant in order to survive this time of upheaval.”
I see. So then let the Mighty Militant Manly Men continue to try to pound that round peg into its square hole, over some home brews of course, perhaps a roaring bonfire, some seared flesh, and whatever other masculine trappings can help to drive out the soul shattering, terror inducing…..”sin of soft.”
I don’t wish to get my girly cooties on any of that, to violate the sacredness of that manly space with spilled glitter, sticky glue, feathers or anything, I just must whisper to you gently from across the miles, pray my words are carried along on a soft breeze, Please hear me, this is so not the gospel of grace, this is so not the Father’s will……
And the Father will have His way, with or without you. At least we can be of good cheer about that.