Justin Bieber's "Unexpected Act Of Faith"

So Justin Bieber has apologized for his outrageous behavior, as well he should.  He has acted like the self-indulgent, undisciplined, spoiled rotten little punk that he is.  But I wouldn’t equate his apology to any kind of spiritual awakening.  Why should anyone assume repentance? 

Justin has claimed to be a Christian in the past (before he figuratively flipped God the bird).  What is the evidence of his, so called, unexpected act of faith?  He attended a week-long Hillsong conference.  That doesn’t mean that he is a Christian any more than watching fireworks on the 4th of July makes him a patriot.  What did he say?  Why should we assume a rebirth?  How is anything in these news stories to be interpreted as a life-changing epiphany?

Hillsong senior pastor, Brian Houston, said, "No doubt he’d probably be the first to say he lost his way in a whole lot of ways and, yeah, I think he realizes that it's now-or-never time to try to build better foundations into his life."

Another pastor, Carl Lentz said, “(Bieber) just wants to make his heart right.”

But building a better foundation in one’s life or making your heart right doesn’t equate to real Christian conversion.

I want to see genuine repentance which will be evidenced by a radical change in his behavior.  And I want to know what HE said.  I want to hear HIS OWN TESTIMONY from his own lips.  The testimony of a Christian must be IN HIS OWN WORDS.  In a criminal trial, would you be satisfied to hear testimony of a witness as told by a third party?  Of course not; a witness speaks for himself.  I don’t care to hear about Justin’s “act of faith” from the media, his fans, his pastor, or even his own father.  I want to hear his own testimony. 

The news articles don’t reveal much but they’re all we have.  So what, exactly, did he say?   

"I've turned a lot of people off in the last few years, but I know I can still put out good music and turn everything all around."

"There was really no preparing me for this life. I was thrown into this at 12 years old.  I didn't know what I was getting myself into. There were moments I am proud of. And there are moments I am disappointed with myself for. But the things I have done don't define who I am. I am (a) kind-hearted person who loves people. And through it all, I have lost some of my best qualities. For that, I'm sorry."

Bieber referred to the celebrity roast, just after his 21st birthday, as "a turning point" in his life. "I am looking forward to being someone you can all be proud of."  

"Someone close to me once said, 'It's how you rise from a fall that truly defines you as a man.' I'm excited for that challenge. And I want to say thank you for taking this journey with me."

Justin’s own words seem to be sincere in a humanistic, self-improvement sort of way.  He seems sincere in his determination to change and to try to do better for the sake of his popularity and his career. And I wish him well.

As for any genuine spiritual change in his nature as a result of any act of saving faith, I didn’t hear any of that.  I really hope that he comes to trust in the finished work of Jesus Christ and His death on the cross as payment for his sin.  

 I will just continue to listen for it from his own lips and then I will wait to see the evidence.  

   

****How to Celebrate Independence Day In A Socialist Country

Six years ago,  on February 18, 2008. Michelle Obama said, “For the first time in my adult lifetime I am proud of my country.” 

That was the beginning of my dislike for this country.  As of June 26, 2015, I must say, for the first time in MY adult lifetime, I am ASHAMED of my country.

Don’t misunderstand me – I love my country.  I love its founding principles of Truth and Justice and Liberty.  I love its exceptionalism.  I honor and respect those who sacrificed their lives to provide it for us and to protect our freedoms. 

 

I love the America that I once knew.  I hate the new Amerika that now exists; the socialistic Amerika that Michelle loves. 

Amerika is no longer a free constitutional, representative republic.  It is now controlled by a lawless psychopath who boldly stood before us and promised to “fundamentally change America” if we elected Him. Unfortunately, that is one of the few times He ever told the truth; it is one promise He has kept.

Today, for all practical purposes, we have a banana republic.  We have lost many of our enumerated rights.  Our dithering president is arrogant, inept, and dangerously foolish.  Congress is feckless and self-serving.  And, as of June 26, we now have a handful of unelected and unaccountable judges who have illegitimately usurped authority and who have created and imposed laws on, what, formerly, were free and sovereign states.  And we are in moral chaos; Up is down; black is white; good is bad; right is wrong, and men are women.  

From this story of our National Anthem, we see just how important it was then, for the patriots of the Revolutionary war, to protect the symbol of our freedom and how determined our enemy was to try to destroy it.   America has always been protective and emotional about our flag.

Today, just a few days before July 4, the Stars and Stripes; the symbol that once flew proudly over so much that was good, has been  co-opted and remains to fly over a nation of people that have forgotten their history or don’t even care. 

So most of the brain dead masses don’t get it.  Now our flag flies as a symbol of the country that now is.

 

There is one more “change” that I wish Obama would make; I wish that His new oppressive, totalitarian government would fly a different flag and stop disrespecting and degrading our “Old Glory.”

This year, for me, Independence Day will be a special holiday because I will honor the memory of a great, once free, nation that is now on life support.  I will pledge my allegiance to the flag of the United States of America with this qualifier; my allegiance will never be to the lawless banana republic that now exists; it is to the constitutional "Republic for which it  (the flag) stands."

May God Bless America.

Who Killed Our Constitutional Republic?

What happened to the United States of America on June 26, 2015?

I am not overly upset with feckless, dishonest career politicians who ignore their constituents to serve themselves.  Neither am I upset about a lawless, dishonest, psychopathic, President who circumvents constitutional law and order to enact illegal laws by executive order.  Nor am I even very concerned about nine unelected old judges who violated their oaths, trashed our constitution, and invented unnatural laws to impose on sovereign states.  None of that surprises me.  That is exactly what men (which is the grammatically correct generic plural noun that includes women) do.  Those are all normal actions of sinful men who reject God and His moral laws.

What upsets me the most is Christians.  That’s right, CHRISTIANS; those who name the Name of Jesus Christ and then disobey His command to be salt and light, who squander our God-given privileges of self-government, and who hold hands with the forces of darkness to their own demise.  And in case you are wondering exactly who those Christians are, let me be perfectly clear; the chances are it is YOU! 

YES, YOU!  You with the Christian bumper stickers; you who post Jesus memes with happy platitudes on Facebook; you who sit beside me in church.  You are responsible for all those reprobates who scheme to rule over us with the very power and authority that was rightfully yours.  You gave it up.  You deliberately forfeited it.

I say YOU because you comprise the majority (60%) of all eligible, nominal Christians and you DON’T VOTE.  You didn’t vote in 2012, you didn’t vote in 2008, and you most likely didn’t vote in elections prior to that.  Furthermore, you probably won’t vote next time even after reading this rebuke.

You are like the unwise servant who buried his talent.  Our constitutional representative republican form of government was a costly gift to YOU.   Good men fought, sacrificed and died for this amazing experiment in self-government so that YOU could enjoy your liberty.  And you buried it. 

But you have principles, you say.  You cannot violate your conscience by voting for a candidate who doesn’t quite agree with you on every point so, by default, you have cast your lot for the other side.  And you won't vote for a man whose faith is different from yours.  Well, you're not voting for a pastor, for crying out loud.  Statistically speaking, you make up the largest voting block of all demographics and you were responsible for the election of those who would destroy our representative republic.  If only 5-10 percent of you had actually taken the time to vote right, we would not be witnessing the political death of our nation. 

So enjoy your new tyrannical totalitarian government; you are responsible for it, you deserve it, and you own it.  If you did nothing to stop it, then you have no right to complain about it.  And when your children and grandchildren ask, “What happened to the United States of America on June 26, 2015?” you can tell them, “I DESTROYED IT.”

“Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.”  James 4:17

Ten Reasons Why I Own A Gun (In case anyone needs to know)

Liberals are always asking, “Why does anyone need a gun?”

Well here’s a better question; Why should any free person have to explain why he needs anything?

BUT,  just in case you really need to know, here is my list of the top ten reasons why I need a gun.

       1.      So I can start a foot race.

       2.     So I can make loud noises on the fourth of July.

       3.     So I have something to put my bullets in.

4     4.     So I can have a reason to buy a gun safe.

       5.      So I can put my horse or my dog out of his misery if he breaks a leg.

6     6.      So I can keep important papers from blowing off my desk.

7     7.      So I can blow up my desk.

8     8.     So I can shoot cans.

9     9.      So I can clear out my congested nose.

      10.    So I can end a severe migraine headache.

****A Fathers Day Tribute To The Memory Of My Dad

It is hard to believe that it has been over twenty years since my father died.  And memories of him are fading.  Now I am older than he was at his passing and memories of him are swiftly fading.

Dad was a little crusty on the outside; a tough construction worker with leathery skin, rough hands, and a rough demeanor to match.  His direct, no-nonsense, sarcastic style of conversation was often misunderstood but, to those who knew him best, it was endearing. He was not overtly affectionate and I don’t remember him ever telling me he loved me. But I never doubted his love; he demonstrated it in very real and practical ways.

I never had what some people today would describe as “quality time” with my father (or my mother, for that matter). In fact, I don’t remember ever hearing the phrase, “quality time,” used in any context when I was growing up. With seven children, there was always work to do and most of the times I had with my father were spent in hard work.

Dad was a straight shooter; he always meant what he said. You could count on it. Disobedience often brought fearful and painful consequences by his own large, rugged hand. He understood the Proverbs…” evil is bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction drives it far from him” and “he that spares the rod hates his son.” He never automatically sided with me against my teachers or others in authority. He taught me that, although they are not always right, it is always right to submit to their proper authority.

But he was also fair and, believe it or not, he was kind. Our family never had much, but we always shared what we had with others. And he was always forgiving. I remember how often I disappointed, failed, and hurt him but still, he loved me because I was his son.

My dad taught me to judge people on the merits of their character, not on their appearance. He understood that true friendship required work and that people must be accepted with and in spite of their shortcomings. He had friends of varied colors, backgrounds, and stature. The only people he could not tolerate were intolerant bigots.

Our family depended on him to provide for our needs. Although he was a skilled craftsman, no job was beneath him. Several times in my life, construction work was hard to find so, over the years, I watched him work as a night-time school janitor, a drive-in theater usher and a door-to-door Fuller Brush salesman. He found dignity in honest work and he wanted his children to see him getting up early in the morning and going to work to bring home a paycheck rather than going to the mailbox to bring in a welfare check.

He valued his reputation. He was honest and just in his dealings. Sometimes, as a contractor, he would make costly mistakes. But he always finished the job at the agreed price regardless of the loss. He was a man of his word.

He was faithful to his wife and his children and that provided a great deal of security for us. Home was a good, safe place to be. We didn’t always have everything we wanted, but he always tried to give us everything we needed.

Not only was he our provider, he was also a strong and brave protector. I remember, at the age of nine, one evening when he had sent me out to buy something at a neighborhood market (in those days it was safe for children to be out after dark). On my way home I passed a parked car with four guys who yelled something at me. I was scared and felt threatened and told my dad when I got home. He immediately got up and went out to confront them and warned them to keep their mouths shut and leave his kids alone.  In retrospect, I imagine he was really fearful of confronting four thugs at night but he never let on.

It has been said "a child is not likely to find a father in God unless he finds something of God in his father."

A pastor once asked some children in a Sunday school class to draw pictures of God. He intended to use them to illustrate his sermon. At the end of class, the children were excited to show off their pictures of men with long robes, white hair, and big, outstretched hands amid rainbows, bluebirds, and fluffy white clouds. Finally, one little girl showed her picture of a simple man dressed in a suit and tie. "I don't know what God looks like," she said, "so I just drew my daddy instead."

Much of my early understanding about the character and attributes of God, I learned, by experience, from a father who was seldom in view, but he was always there.


 

Public Urination (and other gross behavior)

To the street people of our community.

I'm struggling with an overpowering compulsion to apprise you of my contempt for your repugnant predisposition to evacuating voluminous excrements from the recesses of your entrails upon the cloisters of our sanctuaries and around the colonnades of our cathedrals. 

I would likewise express my abhorrence for your detestable practice of public urination within the passages of our business offices and at the portals of our mercantile establishments. 

Furthermore, I would relish an opportunity to convey my utter disdain at the discovery of your sullied, odorous, and otherwise repulsive prophylactics. In short, I yearn to inform you of the despicable nature of your uncouth deportment.

But, alas, I cannot. My wife won’t allow me to express my frustrations with words that you can understand so never mind. I'll just clean up your crap for you. 

You're welcome.