Blue Oyster Cult Lied to You

They had a weird name, which came from one of their manager's poems.  In that poem, the "Blue Oyster Cult" was a group of aliens who guided Earth's history. Yes, the Weird-o-Meter is pegging already.


They had some goofy-looking stage wear (yes, those are skin-tight black leather shorts...right beside the skin-tight white lycra jumpsuit).  The Weird-o-Meter is now smoking and making a strange grinding noise.


Musically, though, they were pretty cool - after all, they did do a song about Godzilla.  Oh no, there goes Tokyo!


Great...now I've got to buy a new Weird-o-Meter.


But I've got issues with "(Don't Fear) The Reaper".  Depending on your age, you might only know it as the "Saturday Night Live Cowbell Song", but it was a legit tune, and it was BOC's biggest hit (went to #12 on Billboard in November of '76).  Anyway, it's seriously whacked out.  Some lyrics:


40,000 men and women every day/Another 40,000 every day/We can be like they are/C'mon baby/Don't fear the Reaper/Baby take my hand/Don't fear the Reaper/We'll be able to fly/Don't fear the Reaper/Baby I'm your man


Buck Dharma, the song's writer, says it's about love, not death.  Yeah, sure thing, Buck...nothing says love like the Grim Reaper.  Have to remember that for Valentine's Day.


On a serious note, Buck really was lying - death is something to be feared.  Not because it's the inevitable end of physical life, but because it's the wage of sin (Romans 6:23).  I've heard that verse a million times, but really thought about it for the first time this morning.  For the sake of discussion, let's remove Jesus' redemptive gift out of the equation for a moment.  We earn something for the work we do, no matter what it is.  If the work we're doing with our hands, minds, and hearts isn't in line with God, we are going to get paid in spiritual death.  Complete, total, and eternal separation from God.  Go ahead and process that for a moment.


To make matters worse, earlier in Romans, Paul makes it clear that none of us can get around this.  We've all earned death, because "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23).  And if that wasn't bad enough...

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.

- Isaiah 64:6

In Jewish culture, being 'unclean' meant you had a horrible disease, and you weren't allowed to live with the rest of the people.  So, for us, no matter how good a life we try to live, it's not good enough to be anywhere near God.  As for the 'filthy rags', the literal translation refers to used menstrual cloths (thanks to Francis Chan for pointing that out to me in Crazy Love).  The very best we can offer God in terms of deeds equates to something we try to throw away without looking at because its so...gross.  Finally, as 'shriveled leaves', our sins have the power to move us all over the place - without our consent, and despite our efforts to stay wherever we are.


On our own, we are not in good condition.


Humility comes with realization of the truth, and when we accept the truth about ourselves - who we are, what we're worth, and what we do - we have no choice but to make good on what James tells us to do: "Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom" (James 4:9).


It's sobering, isn't it?


Without God, we're lost, plain and simple.  Going back to Romans 3, Paul makes it clear: 

Therefore, no one will be declared righteous in [God's] sight by observing the law; rather through the law we become conscious of sin.  But now a righteousness from God, apart from the law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify.  This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.  There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.

- Romans 3:20-24 

Without God, Jesus Christ, and faith in our Father's love and mercy, we need to see that death is our only option.  Blue Oyster Cult lied to you - without God, we need to fear the Reaper.


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I feel kind of bad leaving you on this note.  So, if you need a little pick-me-up, here's the best take on "Don't Fear the Reaper" ever.  Enjoy!

It's a Cryin' Shame

Hope you had a great July 4th weekend, and I hope that, in your celebrations, you didn't lose sight of how wonderfully blessed this country is, and how blessed you and I are to live under her flag.  God bless America.

--

My 9 yr. old son (good lookin' boy, isn't he?) is currently beginning a three-week stay with his grandparents, during which time he'll be about 900 miles away from us. Mama isn't taking it very well, and I'm not in the best of spirits, either.  Please don't read this as: "We don't trust her parents with our son."  That's not true at all; in fact, I love them a lot and trust them implicitly (otherwise, I would have nixed the idea off the bat).  However, things happen...and sometimes, bad things happen.


In a recent e-newsletter, Todd Wilson shared a harrowing account of losing track of his son.  At the bottom of the newsletter, Todd provided a link for dads to share their own "lost kid" stories.  There were a bunch of responses that really gave me the willies, but I wanted to share this one about a guy who lost his son...twice.  The first time, he wandered off and was quickly found.  But the second time, things were a little different:

"Cameron was w/ my sister at a local festival & he wandered off. We ran all over the place trying to find him, alerting the cops and such. Once again, I saw someone carrying him, but this time it was a creepy looking older guy that seemed a bit shocked to run into me. He claimed he found my son @ the other end of the festival. I thanked him for returning him. He looked around nervously & said 'Uh, yeah, I gotta go.'"

I know how you feel right now, because I feel the same way.  I'm sick to my stomach, too, and my heart is twisting in on itself, agonizing over how I would react, how somebody could even contemplate taking a child, and what could have happened to that little boy.


Little children are so fragile, so vulnerable, so innocent and naive.  They have no idea what horrors are out there; they don't understand the depths of evil that swirl all around them.  They don't grasp the truth that there really ARE monsters out there, just waiting for the perfect time to strike.  At a moment's notice, these precious children can be drawn away from the safety and security of their parents by a flash of color splashed on a bouncing balloon.  They can be pulled away from us in a breath by the intoxicating aroma of strawberry cotton candy or a by the silliness of a soft, fuzzy golden retriever puppy.  Instantly, they can wander away from everything good and safe...and into the widening mouth of a beast aching to devour them.

"Be self-controlled and alert.  Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."

-1st Pet. 5:8

You and I - we are the wandering children.


Think about lost children, and the fear they must endure once they realize they've wandered away from the people they know and love and trust.  Does that same emotion wash over us when we realize how far we have wandered away from our Father?  Are we reduced to trembling as they are?  Do we "grieve, mourn, and wail", as we're prompted in James 4:9?


God-centered humility is the result of a series of ongoing reality checks.  If we are not driven to intense fear by the distance we continually put between ourselves and our Father, we are believing a lie and parading around in front of the open door of the lion's cage.


Please, do not allow yourself to be devoured.

In Case You've Just Joined Us...

I don't hate the occasional hail.  It's not that I can't stand the downpours at a moment's notice.  I don't despise the peeling thunder that shakes my house or lightning flashes that streak across the sky and down into some other subdivision, setting fire to someone's utility shed.  It's not even the unsettling cool breeze or the darkening afternoon sky that gets me down.  It's what happens before each storm rolls in that drives me crazy during these summer days in Jacksonville.

When I was playing volleyball in high school, I hyper-extended my left elbow.  Well, truth be told, the kid who drifted out of his position on the power angle hyper-extended my left elbow.  Boy, if I saw that kid today, I'd- oh.  Sorry, I digress.  Anyway, it was pretty gross, and it hurt like crazy, but there was no permanent damage...or so I thought.  As I've gotten older, my elbow routinely stiffens, cracks, and hurts.  But just before the storms come, which is an everyday occurrence this time of year, things go south in a hurry - it begins to ache.  Most times, it's tolerable, but occasionally, it's a killer, and there seems to be nothing I can do about it.

My elbow is aching again, but there's no rain coming (at least not yet).  The storm is in James 4:9, and it's going to be a whopper.  But for now, I'm just going to deal with the ache, and take a moment to look back at where we've been.

This entire blog was (is) an exploration into humility for me, and I had (and still have) hopes that what I discover may have value for you.  My journey began with James 4:10:

"Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will lift you up."

Thankfully, in the preceding verses, James addressed the process of humbling oneself. Here's how it breaks down:

1. Submit to God (see "Tapping Out", "Tapping Out...Again", and "And in This Corner...")
2. Resist the devil (see "Viva La Resistencia!")
3. Come near to God (see "Come a Little Bit Closer...")
4. Wash your hands (see "Feeling a Little Dirty?")
5. Purify your hearts (see "Humility...with Fava Beans, and a Nice Chianti")

During this time, I've also gotten to share some reflections involving my 11th wedding anniversary, as well as an INCREDIBLY powerful video of humility in action (if you haven't watched this yet, please take a moment to do so...it'll knock you out).

But coming up next week, we travel into territory that's far from comfortable; next week, we "grieve, mourn, and wail".  Have a great rest of the week, and get ready for the storm.

Your elbow hurtin' yet?  Mine is killin' me.