COMFORTABLY CARNEL!

Ah, The First Church of Laodicea. This was Charlie Brown's church. This is where the politically correct gathered each week. A congregation of "saltless" Believers and non-believers alike. A beautiful Church, a wealthy Church and a comfortable Church with a comfortable message that would never offend anyone. Indeed the compromising Christian would feel at home.

The Laodicean Believers were not really HOT yet not really COLD either ... but, well ... comfortably neither. Contentedly living in the neither world seeking the best of both the world, and God. Being good but not necessarily godly A church with the comfortable temperature of tepid ... a truly lukewarm fellowship.

The Lord had it correct as He judged His Church of Laodicea. A Church that was there specifically to change the culture, was gradually embracing the culture.

Politically correct.

He used the term "luke warm." Not hot, not cold, but the temperature of flesh! The temperature of flesh. Tepid.

Because you are "lukewarm," I will spit or spew you out of my mouth. More correctly, "I will vomit you out of my mouth!"

Vomit too is flesh temperature.

We cannot do in the flesh what God wants done in the Spirit. When will we learn this?

Caution: Years later the Laodicean Church began to multiply, changed it's name and spread all over the world ... the Laodicean Church has moved into our neighborhoods; it too has a steeple and a cross.

Be sure and check the temperature of your Church.

Remember, with God, Hot is healthy! (Rev.3:16)

WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS

The trip across the lake was a short one and the disciples wanted to give Jesus a break so they "took Him along" in their boat. Suddenly the wind changed, a big storm hit! The little boat was taking on water.

Where are the bail buckets? They tried their best but it wasn't enough. More water coming in.

Meanwhile the Lord, was quietly asleep in the boat.

Lets not bother the teacher, He's tired; let Him rest. Keep on bailing or we'll go down! They soon found that the solution wasn't going to be bailing it was going to be God.

Indeed this is the night God almost died by drowning!

But for the quick thinking of someone in the crew all would have been lost!

When all else fails call on God!

As a result was one of the shortest and most meaningful prayers ever uttered!

"Lord save us ..." or we're all going down!

Too many of us, like those in the boat, have a God that has shrunk through the years to the size of the last resort ... A rather distant last resort God. When we're about to go under, then we cross our fingers and cry out!

"Lord save us!"

We've fallen for Benjamin Franklin's observation: God helps those who help themselves." Man's thinking exactly ... however for some reason God did not help them bail.

Sorry Benjamin, your statement is flawed.

Of the many lessons we can learn from this blustery venture, two stand out as primary;

Lesson one: Check the size of your God before you leave the shore! Lesson two: Never "take Jesus along" ... Follow Him!

My God is the Lord that stood facing the storm, and commanded the storm to stop! ... and it did. ~ Matthew: 8:25

MORE, MORE, MORE!

I was driving down the freeway near our bay and I passed a nice car hauling a good-looking boat and I wondered if the car or the boat was paid for. Not my business of course, but I was just wondering. Credit is a wonderful thing.

Then for some reason I thought about the taxes. I know there were taxes on the boat purchase, the car purchase and the trailer purchase and then a hefty license fee for the car, trailer and boat. On the other side of the freeway I was passing rows of nice homes, each one paying a hefty property tax to the city. All of the cars and trucks on the freeway were running on fuel which we bought costing mostly taxes. Ever notice the taxes on your cable TV or the taxes on your phone bill? In fact everything I looked at or had at home had one or more taxes attached to it's purchase, function and maintenance. Then of course there is the big bite, Federal and State income tax. (We all know April 15 and IRS!)

I'm tired of taxes. Are you?

I was reminded of a hike I took in the jungles of India some years ago, and found I had leeches on my legs. Now I'm from San Diego and had never even seen a leech. They started so tiny that I didn't even feel them attaching themselves to my leg. As leeches do, they were looking for blood. They were sucking my blood; my life out of me ... little by little. And they were growing, how fast they grow!

I'm back living in San Diego, California ... USA and my life is being sucked from me by, quite literally a million little taxes and a few big ones.

Our elected leaders are quite literally leeches. "We need more revenue, where can we put another small tax? Just another half-cent will bring in millions." Just another little leech.

Proverbs 30:15 God has it right on! The leeches cry more! More! There is never enough! They never look at themselves and their bloated lives.

In a bureaucracy there are no mirrors.

Have you noticed; it's always our fault, we're not giving enough.

In the last ten years we've seen disproportional growth in the City, State and Federal bureaucracies, still the leeches cry out for more. Every bureaucracy is similar to a leech in two ways, (1) it sucks life from it's host and (2) it grows ... every leech grows.

Don't get me wrong.

Small government is necessary, and realistic bureaucracies have their place, but when they grow and grow, way beyond their purpose, they actually become the leeches they are.

What we did with our leeches that hot humid night, was simply scrape them off ... painful, leaving our legs bleeding, but soon to heal.

Simple solution to our growing government ... scrape off a third of the leeches and put the other two-thirds to work!

ALL SHOOK UP!

Church a container of salt or a generator of salt? Good question. The Church started as a generator of salt and it's calling is to generate salt but the salt was never to be captured by a container ... worse yet, captured by IT'S own container!

Salt is what a Christian is to become; it's a God produced condition meant to be shared in the world! A God thing!

The Church has missed half of it's Divine calling by attracting and containing it's salt within it's beautiful container.

Isn't it true that many "containers" compete with each other to attract the most salt?

Is it actually true that many churches own themselves and run themselves? God forbid!

Is that the real calling of the Church; to build a container and fill it with salt?

I think not!

When most of us think of salt, we think of shaker! The two words seem meant to be together. The dictionary puts them as one. "Saltshaker." Saltshaker speaks both of salt and of action.

Both disturbing and distributing the salt within by turning it upside down.

Indeed the Church should have fellowship, worship and be educated; but always educated beyond content. The Church needs preachers that are shook-up! We need preachers that preach a shook-up message simply because they, themselves, are shook-up!

The messages would excite and we would become excited!

The saints would once again "glow".

What the world desperately needs from God, is a good shaking of the saints!

Come on, lets sing it together!

"Shook-up, shook-out and shook-all-over!"

Now, for God's sake! ... lets get out and be what we are where we are. (Matt.5:13)

TIJUANA RABBITS

At our southern border the Government continues playing the expensive game of "cops 'n robbers".

It's a game, an expensive game ... but nothing more.

When we were kids we would play the same game, we'd run around chasing and shooting at each other; bang, bang you're dead. "I got you!" "No you didn't!" "Yes I did!"

Boy fun!

But our childish games never took a life or cost a cent!

A child's game is one thing, this expensive border game, quite another; the fact that we are the ones paying for this sideshow as well as the unwitting clowns that perform it ... is simply unacceptable. Billions of dollars are just too much for such an unnecessary game. The key word here is "GAME."

An expensive adult game authored by political buffoons and played out by well paid overweight agents!

My little kids in Mexico had the game down pat. They called it Migra (Immigrations) The idea was to run from Mexico across the border to the Jack-In-The-Box in San Isidro, grab a hamburger and return without getting caught. These fast little rabbits were chased by the best and fattest, but seldom caught.

The kids loved the game. Those unfortunate few that were caught were held for an hour or so and returned to Tijuana. "You're caught!" "No I'm not!"

The big question is when are we going to get serious? The second, even more important question is with whom are we going to get serious. Serious is serious! Bang. Bang; you're really dead ... serious!

Meanwhile; send in the rabbits! (For the clowns to play with!)