The End is Nigh (just not this Saturday)!

The End is Nigh!

I wasn't going to even touch this flaming hive of radioactive bees, but I was randomly flipping through my radio dial on the way home and the guy on that side of the microphone started in on me.

He began to say that that Rapture will be Saturday, and that God even said he was going to let His people in on the date of Christ's second coming, and that it was this Saturday.  Normally I would just flip to my metal station, but in all honesty I hadn't heard a single bit of decent evidence that made me think "Okay, maybe they're right" so I was hoping for something to set a fire under me to jump onto the Rapture Train (which, ironically enough, is the name of my Michael W. Smith tribute band).

This guy said the same things that every other person has been saying, but it made me furious because it looks over the most obvious things the bible says.  I started arguing with the radio in disbelief that he really was over looking the basic concept of "thief in the night" and was being over analytical of the same verses he was saying was being misinterpreted.

Then, in a fit of rage you can only have with someone on the radio, I screamed out "Why would God want us when we're at this such a broken pile of junk?"

This is why there will be no Rapture Saturday.

God wouldn't want us right now.  Why?  The church is at its own throat instead of being the beacon we're called to be.  We're arguing over dogmatic principles instead of going out and changing the world.  God isn't going to take His people because the boat wouldn't be filled enough.  Yes, there are some very powerful people changing the world, but the Church as a whole is really missing the mark.

Take these people claiming the Rapture is Saturday.  All they're doing is saying "repent, the end is nigh" and what does that do?  The end is always "nigh" if you think about it: Rapture or not.  We're all on the brink of dying in a random accident, heart attack behind the wheel, or a bad prescription interaction.

The End is Nigh!

These churches that are claiming Saturday is our last time to repent, but they're missing the fact of what repenting means, what kinds of radical changes happen when Christ comes into your heart, and what kind of changes you can make in others, for others, all because of this change.

This is why there will be no Rapture Saturday.

Those claiming other aren't doing anything but promoting fear.  They're standing on their corners with their bullhorns.  How are they helping?  Who are they saving?  No one comes to Christ through fear, only pure acceptance.  God isn't a God of fear, but one of love.  He wouldn't have put Christ to suffer on a cross to scare us into salvation.

This is why there will be no Rapture Saturday.

Here we sit (myself included) arguing amongst one another, pointing fingers, claiming things about God, biblical teachings, personal beliefs, all of this while millions die of starvation in our own backyard.  God wouldn't want His children home yet, vecause we're not ready to go home, we're not done with what we're called here to do.

The real issue is what happens Sunday morning, midnight, or even 6:01 EST?  We will all be still here, people will still be dying, children will still be starving, and these people speaking for the Church, and at 6:02 EST the Church is put onto trial, by those who have always said God is false, and the Church, as a whole, takes two very large steps backwards, all because these false prophets who people believe speak for Christ, for all of us, but they don't.  They speak for themselves in a very blatant breaking of the third commandment: "You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God, for the LORD will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name." Exodus 20:7.

Lord, please remind us why we're really here: to do Your work, not our own.  Open our hearts to understand the way to You isn't through threats, fear, fire, or brimstone, but through love, and sacrifice, and the truth.  Lord, be with those who are afraid they're not worthy of Your love, and remind us all that Your grace is open to all who are open to Your change.

Grace and Peace,
Jesse

PS: See you all Sunday morning.

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Do we all forget the bad?

Sunday night we (I have returned to my 6:00 p.m. Refinery service, much to my own relief) started a series on Judges.  No, not Judy, Wapner, or Joe Brown, but Shamgar, Deborah, Jephthah, and Samson (to name a few).  Now, I’m not highly familiar with Judges, save for Samson’s epic 1000 kill streak with a donkey’s jawbone, so it’s going to be a great series.  It not only gives me a reason to look closer at a book I have actually overlook and skipped plenty of times, but it also gives me a chance to jump back into home with a series based around a book of the bible, not a book with some jibba-jabba of how hell is empty.

The last part was a joke.  I’m a humorous, remember?

Well, during our intro to Judges, Pastor John talked about how Israel got into this downward spiral of falling away from God, going back to God, and falling away from God, each time getting progressively worse, instead of progressively better.  He said Israel fell into the habits they had gotten use to, forgot how they screwed up before, and continued to screw up, finally calling for help, which God gave in for of a Judge, and then they were back doing things all over again, but this time much worse than the generation before.  A lot of this had to do with Israel forgetting its past, because we have a tendency to forget the bad stuff that happens in our past.

I thought about that for a moment and let it slide by, but then I really started to think about that statement.  Maybe it was because I don’t have a lot of happy memories, or because I may be mentally unstable, but I remember my bad memories, I remember a lot of them, and to be blunt, it makes me a little worried.

Childhoods should be happy, no doubt about that, and to think there are a lot of happy memories, most of mine are slightly dark and depressing.  I have a few happy memories, and those mostly have to do with me being alone, and then that’s where it gets dark.

Israel had it rough.  They were slaves, brought out of Egypt by a guy with a stutter claiming to be lead by the almighty God.  If I was Israel, I’d try to hold onto the good times too.  The Red Sea, and the Mana, or the time Moses came off the mountain and saw us partying and broke those giant tablets he was carrying.  Man, that was a good party.

Israel is like a child hiding from its past.  It doesn’t want to remember what happened, so it holds onto the good stuff to make it through, and then when it hits the fan (you know what “it” is), they plead with God, who is ever loving, and He smiles on them, giving them a Judge to smite their enemies, and get business in order.

I’m not sure when God is sending me my own Samson to smite my enemies, and yes, I know Jesus was that Judge (stop with the Jesus Jukes, okay?) but you know, sometimes we just need a smiter to smite those worth smiting...

Growing up, I had a smiter.  His name was Ricky, and for the record he was in fact a stuffed raccoon.  Not like a taxidermist stuffed raccoon, but a cute cartoony stuffed animal kind.  He smited the darkness, the things that went bump in the night, the horrible days of school, the lousy games of t-ball, the nightmares, the what evers; Ricky was my Judge.  He lost an eye during a battle with my older cousin, and I still remember that night, like all the other dark memories.

I don’t too often think back to my childhood.  Mainly because, try as I might to think of the good things, I come up short.  That doesn’t keep me holding onto the good times and forcing my subconscious to push back the bad.  The good times are in deep contrast to the bad times, and do remind me there was a decent enough childhood that I didn’t end up a serial killer, or something worse... like a scientologist... or even more so worse... a universalist...

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Dreams

To preface this, I normally wouldn't post such a private thing such as a dream to this site, but this one really has me thinking about how the mind works, and how powerful it really is.

Before I can tell you about this dream, I have to take you back to 1993.  I had my first operation in September of 1993, and during that time I had a lot of television watching, being cooped up in bed and all.  Well, that same year, at that same time, Fox put out this little show called the X-Files, you may have heard of it.  Anyway, to make a long story short, after seeing the first few episodes, I was hooked, and sometime between then and the end of the first season, I had this dream where I was on vacation when I stumbled upon this film crew, filming something another, which I learned was an episode of the X-Files.  Being the nerd boy I was, I stuck around and I was in a leg cast, and was in a wheelchair, so the crew was kind of nice, and one day one guy let me behind the scenes.  Well, while back there, the director, who I had no idea what he looked like or whatnot, anyway the director was screaming at someone another about an actor missing.  He then came around and saw me sitting there and was like "Do you mind doing a stand in so we can at least get something done?" and I was like "Do what?" and he was like "I need to get the camera angles and lighting right, but our actor playing the cripple isn't here yet."  "Sure!" So he takes me to this set, that looks like an interrogation room and puts me behind the table and he starts moving around, well David Duchovny comes in and is like "Oh, good, he's here" but the director is like "No, this is just a stand in, the real guy is way late" so Duchovny goes "Let the kid do the lines, there's like a whole five lines." So the director asks if I have any experience and I go "No" to which he says "perfect, you'll do anyway, we're behind schedule" so he gives me the script and then we're all of a sudden about to shoot, so Duchovny sits down across the desk from me and I start the scene, and it's going perfect, and Gillian Anderson walks in and does her lines, and I shoot mine back, and then that's the scene, and then this kid comes in and thanks me for warming up his spot, but the director yells at him about being on time, and the kid is like "You can't use this, he isn't union" and the director gets all POed.  I'm suddenly leaving the set, really POed, when Gillian Anderson comes out and is like "You did good in there, but Duchovny says they can't use the shot because you're not union.  She thanks me again and Duchovny comes out with a VCR tape and hands it to me, tells me I should keep it.  The two of them sign it, I thank them and off I go.

What does this have to do with anything?  It gets weird now...

Last night I have this dream that I'm on vacation with just about every direct family member I know.  Myself, my wife, my daughter, my parents, and my wife's parents, and we're in Las Vegas, and it's late and as we're going back to the hotel room my wife reminds me of the cooking class I had signed up for when we arrived at the hotel.  The hotel's restaurant is owned by Wolfgang Puck, so I'm like, hey if Wolfgang's best chef is giving a class, I'm in.  So I roll down to the restaurant and it's packed, way packed, and I'm like what the hell is going on.  There's a camera crew, and there's some white drapes up that weren't there that morning, so I'm  a little confused.  I go up to the maitre'd and tell him I'm here for the cooking class, and he says the chef is running a little behind but he tells me the room off to the side is for the class.  I roll over to this side room and it's a little dark and it's showing the history of the restaurant, and Wolfgang, and I slide into this small open spot in front of these two people who I can't see because of the darkness and I feel a tap on my shoulder.  I turn around and it's Gillian Anderson and I look like a deer in headlights and I whisper "Hey." She leaves over and says something to the guy behind me and I turn and it's David Duchovny.  He smiles and is like "long time no see" and I'm all like "YEAH!" so when the video is over and the lights come up, the two are all "Wow, what a small world..." and I'm like "Holy crap, what the hell?" and Duchovny is like "Carter and the two of us still talk about the day you showed up out of no where and saved the day" and I was like "You're pulling a fast one, right?  The camera crew out there is like Candid Camera, right?" and Duchovny is like "No, it's for my show, we're here to film with Wolfgang, and now I have an even better idea.  Duchovny excuses himself and Anderson starts asking about what I'm doing in Vegas, and I show her pictures of my wife and daughter, and we're making small talk when Duchovny comes in with Wolfgang and he's like "Forget the cooking demo, it's boring, I've got another plan" and he pushes me into this small back room with all these cameras and I'm shaking a little and Duchovny's like "Okay, so I have this show I'm shooting a pilot on and it's just improve stuff, and we're just going to go with the flow of the scene, so I want you to just have fun.  Forget the cameras are there."  "What?"  He explains it to me again, and I turn around and at this table is Anderson, a midget, now Duchovny, and Al Roker.  There are playing cards and poker chips and I slide up to the table, put on a hat that was hanging on the back of my wheelchair and toss on a pair of sunglasses.

Filming starts, I act like I loose my first hand, Roker says "You've lost the last five hands, it may be easier to play without the sunglasses." I snap back "Listen, if I want your opinion I'll ask Willard Scott, okay?  Are we clear about that?" Roker slams his hand down and goes "I'm tired of being the only black guy at these games." and Anderson goes "Wait, you're black?"  Duchovny follows suit (pardon that pun) and is like "No, Lauer is the token guy on that show.  Now, where are the sandwiches?"  Wolfgang comes in with a plate of sandwiches, I grab one, bite into it and spit it out.  "Wolfy, what the hell is this?"  "It's a tea sandwich.  Cucumber, a nice wine sauce." I slap the tray out of his hand and yell at him "I wanted just peanut butter sandmaches, not this crap!  Who eats this crap?"  "Well..." Roker snaps at him "and bring me a beer, Miller Lite."  Everyone stops and looks at Roker "Miller Lite?" Anderson smirks "I probably have more hair on my chest that you do..." something another happens and I'm suddenly outside the room, watching the playback on Duchovny's laptop and we're all laughing, and Roker goes "How do you know this guy?" and Anderson goes "He saved us back while we were filming the second season of X-Files.  We had this actor who thought his stuff didn't smell and Jesse shows up and steals his job."  "I wasn't union so they couldn't use the shot, the actor was fired and all was well in the world."  Roker asked something on the lines of what kind of work I had been doing since and I told him living a normal life, and then Duchovny hands me this envelope, and I open it and inside is this card, and he's like "I signed you up for the union, you'll get all kinds of weird mail, just ignore it unless it looks interesting." and then I wake up.

I've never questioned the strength of the mind.  The abilities it has to control the body amazes me, alone, but this blew me away.  A dream I had years ago is put into the subconscious only to be randomly pulled out for no reason but to completely amaze me.

However, if I'm ever in Vegas, and I end up in a fictional poker game with Al Roker, David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, and Wolfgang Puck, I'll have this entry to prove my ability to see into the future.

Or I'll have this entry to prove beyond a mater act that I am not in sound mind nor body.  I have another post brewing that has nothing to do with X-Files, David Duchovny, or Gillian Anderson being racist.

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