"The Last of the Good Samaritans."

In the early hours of the morning, Tuesday, April 27, 2010, a man died alone and friendless on a street in Queens.
He died of neglect, though the official cause of death will be listed as "multiple stab wounds". He was not an alcoholic, he did not die of a drug overdose; he died as a result of his principles. He died from an act heroism; a rescuer who found no one to rescue him!
Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax was a young man; a 31-year-old Guatemalan immigrant who chanced upon a scene of violence between a man and a woman. As he bore witness about what was happening, did he think, "Not in my America? This should not be happening in the Land of Opportunity, my new homeland. Did I flee the violence of drug lords in my native country to find no safety here? No! No! Not in my America!"
Was he motivated by his sense of honor as he stepped in between them, trying to save the woman from her assailant? She was saved, but he was stabbed in her place. As he lay bleeding upon the sidewalk; was he no doubt hoping and praying that rescue would come quickly? Was he buoyed and sustained by a belief that in America, fellow humans would see to his need and rescue would come quickly?
At least seven people walked by him in the last hour of his life. Several checked him out as he lay in a pool of his own blood. One even lifted him and saw his bloody wounds, before dropping him back and hurrying away. None of them tried to help him. Each hurried away in fear, in panic, in unconcern for the life of a fellow human being. What could they have been thinking? That it wasn't their problem? Someone else will do what is necessary, I needn't concern myself?
The Bible tells us it would be like this in the last days; "... men shall be lovers of their own selves, ... without natural affection, ... fierce, despisers of those that are good." II Tim. 3:2-3.
Jesus explained what it meant to be a neighbor in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. A man, a fellow-traveler on the dangerous highway of life is robbed, beaten and left for dead. He, too, hoped for rescue. He likewise had people hurry by and refuse to accept the very human burden of rescue. He must wait until someone offered to help; for him, help came in time. But not for Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax; not for the last of the Good Samaritans.

"Cultural Idle-atry"

Recently I had an old acquaintance, a former church member from days long ago ask to be on my facebook friends list. I knew better because of our past history, but went ahead anyway and let this person on. Perhaps, I thought, maybe something good can come of this to bring him back to truth.
Wrong! In no time at all, this individual began posting things on my wall that indicated their all-consuming passion - sports. Every comment was sports related; it was as if nothing else really mattered in life if not connected in some way to sports. One comment that finally got to me was to the effect that "God gave us Monday night football." That's when I lost my cool and responded with a comment "Are you sure that's what God had in mind when He created Monday?"
As a preacher and a church planter I know only too well the competition that God and the church have with America's sports fetish. When I hear of churches that cancel regular Sunday services to gather around a big-screen TV because it's "Super Sunday" (the Super Bowl), I want to scream! And when I remember that this former member left us and elected to become a member of one such church, I could only respond as I believe any man of God would have done; in a pastoral manner that would hopefully result in some personal introspection and a course correction.
So I vented and said, "Can't wait to see what 'sports' there are in heaven ... I can only imagine it might be something like seeing how far you can cast your crown! When does one cross the line with loving something so much that it becomes idolatry? I think passion for God should be second to nothing. Am I a fanatic? Yes or No ... (Say YES, please ...)"
To which came back the response, "Some things never change ..." and went on to say "... don't be a hater ..." Finally, I was informed that heaven was just one great big "football game in the sky"! And I thought to myself, "Yeah, you fault me for never changing, but I see that some things never change for you, either. You still love football more than God; just listen to how excited you get talking about it! You aren't so excited about God, or Bible truth, because you've left the truth. Sports were in the way of your walk then, and they still are, from what I can see!"
Similarly, I drove by a church that had a sign out "Have Breakfast With Santa This Saturday." That peaved me. So I posted this on my facebook; "Went by the [ ]church, saw a sign 'Have breakfast with Santa.' What, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em? So now it doesn't matter that Jesus came into the world to bring 'peace on earth' 'cause we got a fat man in a red suit running around giving goodies to all the girls and boys, and that's what Christmas is all about! The church is fine with that because people are fine with that; nobody cares for truth anymore!"
I can't help but wonder what an O.T. prophet would think if he were suddenly granted a visit to our time and he saw the state of the church in this day and age? What would he think of Christianity that sold out to the idolatry of the idleness and vanities of it's culture? What would he think of churches that replaced the nativity story with the Santa story? What would he think of Christians that were so confused in their love of sports that they saw Heaven as a giant football game for eternity?
I further went on to note that "Some things shouldn't change. I love life and I love God with a jealous love; I believe He should be number one in life. What O.T. prophet was appreciated for his opposition to cultural interests that interfered with religious duty? I'm in good company. Reserve your best passion for God, or else!"
I'm glad I haven't changed in this respect. Even George Foreman, former heaveyweight champion of the world two times over, had this to say about his love for the sport in his book God In My Corner; "... it can never become more important than God. if it ever does, the task becomes an idol. The way to prevent idolatry is to love the Lord with all your heart."
Now, I'm not saying it's wrong to have passions and interests in life not related to God and the church. I love art and painting, and playing music, and there are lots of things I enjoy, but you should see me when I'm teaching someone a Bible study; that's when you'll see my truest passion! I always put my best forward when it comes to church; I refuse to be more excited about anything than the work of God!
I can't help but think such cannot be the case where love for sports is a passion and an obsession. What if someone were to say to such a person; "I need a Bible study, and I want you to teach it. Only you; and I can only have it on Monday nights." The time slot is just when Monday Night Football is on, and you're going to miss it for the next twelve weeks of this study! What do you say to this soul who needs salvation? See me when football season is over?
That's the reality from a preacher and a soul-winner's viewpoint. And I think of others who have left us in the past, but when the doctors tell them "You've got two weeks to live" then they want to reach out and reconnect with us, because they know that "some things never change", and just now they're glad that we haven't ceased being who we are, our passion for God where it belongs, and still preaching the Old Time Gospel just when they need to hear it most! And that puts it into perspective, because what we do here on earth is really only preparing us for eternity, and how do such all-consuming cultural vanities and "idle-atries" fit in with eternity?
Go get 'em, preacher! Grr-r-r!

"Could President Obama Be The Antichrist?"

I am just sitting here reading the news online, and feeling a chill tingling down my spine. I refer to an associated press article by Josef Federman titled "Envoy: US favors overal Mideast peace accord".
In this article, US envoy George Mitchell is quoted during his diplomatic visit to Syria, saying that "the United States is determined to achieve a 'truly comprehensive" peace settlement that includes normal relations between Israel and all of its Arab neighbors. We will welcome the full cooperation of the government of the Syrian Arab Republic in this historic endeavor,'"
It is to be understood that Mr. Mitchell is a functionary of the Obama administration; therefore his statements of record serve as a weathervane, pointing which way the wind of global U.S. diplomacy blows. His recent visit to Syria is a complete reversal of former Pres. Bush's foreign policy with regard to this nation as a country which supported and was actively involved with sponsoring terrorism.
Lest you think Syria is not guilty, ask any non-Hezbollah Lebanese!
It is both frightening and disconcerting to realize that we have a sitting president and administration that is willing, not only to sit at the negotiating table with a nation that is known to support the same mentality that resulted in the horrible and cowardly depradations of 9-11, but that is now indicating a willingness to single them out and push them forward into a leadership role for a Mid-East peace settlement!
What is even more frightening, if one knows and understands Bible prophecy concerning the end times, is this adminisration's seeming rejection of Israel's sovereign national interest, and the new intent to push for a comprehensive Israel/Arab peace settlement. Both the new U.S. policy of "less than a friend" towards Israel, and "more like a friend" towards her Arab neighbor nations, and the call for universal peace are historic departures from any previous administration since Israel became a recognized sovereign nation in 1948.
It also smacks of favoritism towards Israel's Arab neighbors; not towards Israel. The United States has in past years been at times Israel's only friend, hope and ally. What is to become of Israel if the most powerful nation in the world abandons her to the interests of Muslim theocracies?
And the part that really chills me and gives me pause is what the prophet Daniel said in Dan. 9:27:
"And he shall confirm the covenant with many for the week: and in the midst of the week he shall cause the sacrifices and the oblation to cease, and for the overspreading of abominations he shall make it desolate, even until the consumation, and that determined shall be poured upon the desolate."
This passage is widely understood to be refering to the Biblical figure called the Antichrist, who will dominate world leadership during the Tribulation Period, a "week of years" or seven years of global government.
The Antichrist will be a global pariah who will come to world-wide acclaim and leadership by settling a comprehensive Mid-East peace. The Book of Revelation calls him a man of peace, but his administration will be dripping with blood. A significant part of his peace plan will deal with Jerusalem, and the allowing for the Temple Mount to have multiple use, including a third Jewish temple. Yet in the end, he desecrates this temple in the middle of his seven year administration by declaring himself to be god, and demanding Jewish and global allegiance and worship.
The religious Jews will utterly reject this notion, and his policy will then be to ruthlessly drive the Jews from their homeland. Israel will come to be seen as the problem; a rogue nation that will not cooperate with the global peace plan.
Already there has been discussion in the U.N. about getting peacekeepers involved in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict; and not necessarily with the consent of Israel!
He will have world opinion with him in this matter, and the final conflict, in which he gathers together a global confederation consisting mostly of Arab nations, in concert with the former Soviet Union and some European nations, will be called the Battle of Armageddon. The prophetic Book of Revelation has the armies of the nations gathered in the plains of Jezreel, before Megiddo, where they will be consumed by “the brightness” of the Lord’s coming. Flesh will melt from bones and eyes from sockets, and blood will flow to the depth of a horse’s bridle in a cosmic nuclear meltdown that is divinely originated.
And what concerns me is the apparent nearness in time we may be to all of this, with a sitting president, who to all appearances just may well be a “sleeper Muslim”, and who certainly is willing to utilize any of his misty Muslim heritage to his diplomatic advantage in dealing with Muslim nations. And now he announces his foreign policy intention to make a universal peace, which of course is to be desired, but if it is the fulfillment of Bible prophesy, is to be feared for what comes after. And that means that if Mr. Obama is not the antichrist, could he be a forerunner; a reflection of the spirit of the antichrist age?
I wonder ...

"A House for the Sparrow."

As I was working at the church last week, I heard over my shoulder a strange noise; a sort of whispering disturbance just outside my office window. At first, it registered as only a minor disturbance. I thought it must be another of those fast moving thunder storms we had been experiencing, getting ready to hit again.
But it didn't stop; it grew persistent. Looking around, I was surprised by an amazing sight. A little bird, I don't know what kind, it was mostly brown and grey, with bands of these shades going backward from it's head, but it was launching itself from the day lilies growing just outside at the window. It would hit the window, tapping with it's beak and then fall to the ledge which wasn't sticking out enough to support it. Hopping back on a day lily stem, it would repeat the process over and over again.
Amazed at what I was witnessing, I moved over by the window for a better look. The little bird, I realized was trying to get into my office. But why? I wondered. Did she know that a bad storm was coming, from which she was seeking shelter?
She kept trying, but she couldn't understand why she couldn't just fly in. Perhaps she saw me near the window. She flew away; but no! She went to the other window and tried repeatedly to get in there as well!
I opened the window, a laborious process involving dealing with blinds and removing the screen, just to see what would happen. Did the little bird really want in my office? And what would she do if she got in?
But she flew away, and I closed the window. I was so amazed and in wonder about this, that I began to consider; does the little bird feel the presence of God in this place like I and so many others feel it? One feature of the church is that the building seems full of the peace of God, like there are angels there. Any time you are alone there, it's really amazing how you can sense God.
Did the little bird want in because she could feel it too? I wondered.
David said in Ps. 84:2-3:
"My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the LORD: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.
Yea, the sparrow hath found a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O LORD of hosts, my king, and my God."
Blessed sparrow; God bless the sparrow, and God bless the child! Truly, "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me".
Some time later, the little bird came back. It was getting close to service time, and she tried valiantly once again to get in. "Boy, that little bird wants to go to church!" I thought. "I wonder why God's people don't come to church sometimes. Does this little creature know something or feel something we don't?"
It kind of makes you wonder!

Meet Sasha.

You never know when your life is about to change; it just happens. You're going about your day to day routine, then suddenly, as you're walking past the greenhouse, you look down and see a kitten huddled behind the door, all hunched and cozy in the sunlight. A Siamese kitten, with a beautiful smokey little face and ears.
She sat there, unafraid; a good sign, and she didn't run away when I knelt down to speak to her. I'd never seen her before, and as far as I knew, she'd never seen me, either! But at that moment, we began the intricate dance of moving from strangers to friends. She knew she liked me the moment I scratched behind her ears.
"That man knows how to do an earicure!" she must have been thinking, as she positioned herself for more.
I petted her and released her, assuming she was a neighbor's cat, and would be gone the next time I saw her. But hours later, she was still there. Same spot, same position.
I pointed her out to my wife, when she got home from work. It went from, "I wonder whose cat she is?" to, "I think she might be a stray..." to, "I think she's trying to adopt us!" to, "Do you think God is trying to send her to us?"
Now you have to know my wife. After 35 years of marriage, and raising three kids and one husband (who's only about half raised), a dog, several cats, a couple of rabbits and assorted hamsters, lizards and other life challengers, she was all done with pets! No more! One husband too many already ... no more!
The kitten, I'd have to say she was a "spring kitten", probably no more than five months old, judging from her size, was not in the best of shape. She moved slow, and seemed sick. She sneezed a lot. We tried to ignore her; maybe she would get tired and go away. Go back to her home, wherever that was. She moved into our garage overnight. The next morning when I went out there, I was startled to see her laying on an old tablecloth I had covering up some of my canvases. I felt sorry for her; she hadn't gone home, she had no home, she was hungry. I went and got her a little cream. She lapped at it, but couldn't drink it all.
Later that day, she was still hanging out by the garage. I feed her some chicken scraps. Her appetite still was not normal. "Maybe she goes home to eat. Someone else must be feeding her," ventured my wife, "because she doesn't seem that hungry!"
Over the next two days, she was still hanging around, sleeping in the garage overnight, and hanging around the back door like a hobo waiting for a hand-out. Then she began to show some interest in coming indoors. I let her in for short visits, to see how she would behave. My wife was not happy. "I don't want another cat!" she protested. She'd call the animal shelter, she'd check around, send out a mass email. "Anyone want to adopt a stray kitten? She's Siamese ...?"
No takers, thanks just the same. Even the animal shelter; "We're full up; no room in the inn." I had to go away for a few days on a trip; my wife said that if she couldn't find her a home, then maybe I could keep her. You see, I love cats, and have always owned them or wanted to. The last cat we had, Bart, was a Siamese mix; all black like his black cat father, but all lean and long like his Siamese mother. He was a good cat, well house trained and respectful of my wife's things (like her Christmas tree, which made him especially good!) But he wandered off on one of his evening strolls, and never returned. We never learned what happened to him, but at the time he went missing, there was a rash of missing cats in our town. Someone was criminally stealing cats, to what purpose, we never found out.
I returned home from my trip, and Sasha was still there. "If we take her, you're paying for everything!" said my wife, over and over. "Allright," I agreed.
A week had now gone by, and the moment of decision came. My wife reluctantly agreed. "I guess we can keep her." I knew she must be feeling sorry for her, at least a little. So I went around town, purchasing the necessary things, and returned home. I brought the kitty in, and announced the good news. She didn't seem that surprised.
We now began to discuss name options; what shall we call her? "How about Smokey?," I said. "No, we need a feminine name," answered my wife. Later, she thought of one. "What about Sasha? I kind of like that name."
"Yeah, Sasha; that's a good name," I replied. Also a good omen, I thought, that she was the one to name her. And so Sasha stuck. She's still trying to learn it, as well as a few other house rules, such as "No scratching on the Furniture!" and "No scratching on the Oriental Rug!" and "No pooping on the Carpet!", which, if she doesn't learn to do soon, will endanger her room and board arrangements! "I don't know if we can keep her ..." is a daily mantra from my wife; but she still hasn't found it in her heart to put her out.
The funny thing is; Sasha follows her everywhere. She's under her feet in the kitchen, she's in her coupon clipping, she even spent forty-five minutes in my wife's lap while she was outside trying to fill up water balloons for a Sunday School lesson. Sasha insisted on cuddling up with her; would not be dismissed! I think that was the one that won my wife over!
Now she sits with her on the couch, and sleeps with her in bed, cuddled right up next to her head. She thinks she's her Mom. She knew, she must have known who she had to convince that she belonged with us!
The truth is, Sasha adopted us. Plain and simple. We didn't adopt her, we weren't looking for a cat, my wife had made it plain that I would have to "get over it" about wanting a cat. It was her turn now; no more animals. But I wonder if God did send her to us? One of His little helpless creatures, who needed a home and a family and companionship? Sasha is the most cuddly cat I've ever had; she loves to be social, she sits with us for movies, she needs us! And I'm reminded that the Bible says, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, ..." and I believe God knows what's best. He sent a wonderful little stranger to our house, and now Sasha has a home.
At least, until she does one wrong thing too many, and my wife's sympathetic intincts give way to her pragmatism!
Pray for Sasha.