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Fighting the Good Fight

Let’s be honest for a second. Just for a moment.

I’ve been alive only 21 years. I haven’t been in the darkest corners of the world, or the hotspots of this week’s top VH1 list of places to be. I’ve been fortunate to live in a digital age where information is available at the fingertips of those who thirst for it. I’ve been blessed with a company of people who have taught me to neither be moved by the textbook scholars or the eclectic apostles of mystics. I’ve roamed the crumbled streets for answers in the middle of conflicting neighborhoods and poverty-stricken war zones. I consider myself a passionate seeker of truth, and wisdom. I’ve peered into the faces of the lost and seen their lifeless spirit quenched of hope. I’ve listened to the clerics, the champions of worldly doctrines playing the same tune as the pied piper leading millions astray with righteous indignation, as they stand and scoff at the kid with the Jesus tattoos pleading for anyone to listen.

And it’s been my impression that a trend has been rising in the savvy subcultures. A presence so forceful, to ignore it would be vain. This generation of anti-believers, spiteful critics and aggravated skeptics are at the heart of what could be called the anti-Jesus movement. And the more I am surrounded by those on “the other side of the Cross,” I am suddenly aware of how Jesus must have felt on his way to Calvary. As he stood shaking in the streets under the weight of the murder weapon that was to ultimately be used on Him, and people from all sides yelled “heretic” and “blasphemer,” as spit landed on his sweaty body and obscenities were cast at him … and I’m suddenly back in the year 2007 where a similar situation is created whenever someone brings up the name of Christ. I wonder: where are the lights in the city on the top of the hill? Did someone set off an electromagnetic pulse through the Christian community? And is it our right to turn our heads and cover up our ears, escape back to our homes and wash our hands clean of this confrontation? While the one we call Lord turned His eyes toward the heavens and uttered a plea of forgiveness from a God who was watching the murder of His Son.

It is easy for us to become numb and fall accustomed to our sacred traditions. Our world becomes a series of Sundays scratched off on our calendars, an X next to every attended church event. We lose our focus on the intended purpose for our life as we become buried in the visceral, the obsolete, the finish of the paint job on the shell over our meaningful existences. The Love that conquered the world has somehow been stitched into a Sunday suit worn twice a week at most. Our version of being the Light is refusing to see the opening of The Golden Compass so that the viral news headlines read “Heretical Hollywood Tanks in the Box Office.” The 84% “Christian” population has done their part while supporting next year’s blockbuster lineup of busty babes that is considered acceptable viewing material as long as you’ve sprouted a few hairs on various parts of your body.

The existential world is left festering in confusion and professing their unbelief in defiance of a moral existence. I’m alone in my car weeping for the people who are unknowingly, undeniably at large to the message of Truth. Passionate people who have become objects of a media-driven culture shepherding millions into spiritual genocide. If the pied piper was still alive, he would be suing for copyright infringement. Or maybe he, like many, just caved to the highest bidder.

I’m not an advocate for the drive-by antics of the “street-vendor-esque” minister, peddling salvation for head counts or ticket sales. But those admonitions are vaporized when the testimony of encouraging other believers to shine their Light like an exploding star is introduced into the equation. And in a time as critical as now, it’s really not conducive to the Message to be debating evangelistic strategies.

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I am saddened by those who scowl at the minister of the Love message, but no matter how sad it is, I deplore the believer scowling back and would always be firstly concerned with reaching the unbeliever on an intimate, serious level, before some vain attempt to fulfill a personal quota for evangelistic shrapnel discharge. And I would gladly leap in front of that sort of spiritual buckshot and take the hit for a chance to reach that person on purely love-driven motives.

I want to encourage everyone to take the responsibility to live the life of a true follower of God. To be rivers of righteousness, mighty floods of justice. Take a stand for the message of salvation, that is life to them that believe. Be the hands, feet, and voice of Christ in your school, job, neighborhood, home, etc. And don’t limit yourself to the passively receptive. Fight for the lost souls and the aggressive anti-evangelic. If you take the time to reach into someone’s heart, you’ll find there are many modern-day Paul’s worth fighting for.

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