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For those who don’t know, Pastor Wilson likes to do a series called “No Quarter November,” where he sets something on fire like a sofa or a truck, and proceeds to take the filter off and speak plainly. It’s an entertaining marketing ploy involving giving away some of his books.

So right out of the gate we have, “Like Dead Flies on a Window Sill.” There are a great many things I am in complete agreement with. I also enjoy Francis Schaeffer. I have little or no loyalty to Big Eva. The last couple of years have indeed exposed a great many boils of cultural hypocrisy desperately needing to be lanced. Alas, those boils are not all on the left side of the aisle, nor reserved for secularism.

Let us talk about one fat, dead fly that simply will not rest. Wilson adds to his list of horrors, “the ecclesiastical lynchings that occurred in the name of dealing with sexual offenders.” 

Sigh.

Double sigh.

So what is the one thing that keeps me separated from the church at large? What is the one thing that has me looking at some transgendered antifa thug and going, meh, just looks like flip sides of the same coin. Same crap, different costume. What gives rise to my political apathy? Why do I enjoy reading Wilson on one hand, and yet I would also cheerfully build a wall, take up arms, and give his ideology and belief system, Absolutely No Quarter At All?

Ha! Make America ANQAA for right wingers who will not listen to anyone but their own selves.

A bit amusing, one would think when one was floating out in the deep ocean of the 9th circuit of hell for years on end, almost any boat that came along would be most welcome. One would not say for example, “I realize I’m dehydrated, covered in blisters from the sun, and awash in the bilge of my own filth, but I really do prefer to wait for a more perfect lifeboat. In fact, if the choice is between you and death, I’ll take the death. It’s all good, I’ve actually made reservations for the afterlife.”

Those are some strong words, but I mean them, there is a deal breaker so powerful, it is a hill I will die on. It’s about making sure that women and girls are heard, listened to, and respected. It’s about believing us when we speak about sexual assault. It’s about acknowledging our pain. It’s about creating a system of safety. It’s about valuing women and girls (and many boys and men too) enough, that you are willing to stand up and proclaim that sexual abuse is wrong. Pedophilia decimates it’s victims. Your number one priority must be their well being and safety and not the empathy you feel towards sexual abusers. Not even the empathy you feel towards those who may experience the discomfort and embarrassment of false accusations. That is a travesty, however not all victims are Potiphar’s wife and not all of the accused are Joseph.

If that is your worldview, then it will color everything you do and it will impact how you perceive those who are telling the truth. You will simply not believe them, you will deny and dismiss them, or worse you will blame them.

With no shame at all, with no self awareness, with a complete inability to empathize, Wilson offers mockery, the analogy of a husband standing on the sidelines while his wife is being attacked saying, “Guys, guys! This is simply unacceptable. I disapprove of this kind of behavior in the strongest possible terms. Honey, honey . . . thoughts and prayers!”

That actually made me cry. You know why? As small and pathetic as that tiny effort is, that is what every sexual abuse victim longs to hear. You don’t even have to do a darn thing, just state that sexual abuse is unacceptable, you disapprove of this behavior, and your thoughts and prayers are with the victim….and not just with the perpetrator.

David thou art that man. Or rather, church, thou art that husband. Or rather, church if you could just be that husband you hold up for mockery and ridicule, it would actually be an upgrade.

The vast majority of abuse victims don’t even get that much from the church at a large. We don’t even get a wussified, pansy reaction, and someone sending good vibes. Nope, nine times out of ten we get blamed, and not only pushed out of the church, but pushed away from Christ Himself. If His ambassadors are this hypocritical, heartless, and brain dead, then what else have they lied about?

The church at large is often even worse than that negligent, wimpy husband. Victims don’t even get a few positive twinkles from the universe and a brief nod.

The left is bursting at the seams with hypocrisy too, and have their fingers in their ears, but at least you can be certain if you are ever a victim of assault the first question they ask you will NOT be, So what were you wearing? Have you ever heard of Potiphar’s wife? Weren’t you flaunting your money around and tempting everyone? Do you have any unconfessed sin of your own? Didn’t you dye your hair pink and wear yoga pants when you were a teen? Are you sure this wasn’t your fault? Maybe you just misunderstood the situation….

Wilson reveals his genuine feelings when he states, “the ecclesiastical lynchings that occurred in the name of dealing with sexual offenders.”  Can you name one single false accusation of churchian sexual abuse in the past few years that has led to the “lynching” of an innocent? I can not think of a single one. Of course I probably haven’t scrutinized every single court case, or poured over all accusations with a fine tooth comb, but that is hardly my fault. There have been hundreds.

Heck, the pResident is chief can’t even seem to keep his nose out of little girl’s hair. The madam of Epstein Island is currently in jail…… and yet not one single perpetrator has ever seen the inside of a courtroom. You’d have to be willfully blind to not realize that our culture, our system, our dysfunction is all heavily rooted in the unchecked sexual abuse of children.

Culture is always downstream from the church. I know this because I’ve spent a lifetime living in the flushing zone. Some days there just isn’t enough sweet smelling spray to cover up the smell of all the bovine poo pouring out of the mouths of her shepherds.