We see in the Gospels that Jesus often met the
 misguided good intentions of the Pharisees with compassion and disdain,
 only to be set upon by the same religious elite with burning eyes, 
crass insinuation, and outright mockery as foreplay which led ultimately
 to plots of conspiracy, false witness, and murder. God, The Ancient of 
Days, was in mid swing reconciling fallen man to himself through the manifestation
 of His Word become flesh, Jesus Christ The Anointed One and His 
Anointing. Hallelujah. Can there ever again exist a more horrifically 
tragic transmogrification of irony, evil self-aggrandizement, and 
hypocrisy as that which was demonstrated by the scribes and Pharisees? 
It remains a mystery how Christ could be simultaneously fully God and 
fully man - the hypostatic union to reference the proper Christology. 
Yet, like a kernel of wheat destined to be made broken bread (John 6:35,
 Matthew 26:26) and like a lamb born to be led to the slaughter 
(Jeremiah 11:19, Isaiah 53:7), Jesus Christ laid it down,  giving up the
 ghost in the very prime of His human life here on this earthen soil. 
 
 I too, in 2012, have witnessed horrifically tragic transmogrification 
of irony, evil self-aggrandizement, and hypocrisy not unlike that which 
was demonstrated by the scribes and Pharisees long ago in a galaxy not 
so far away. I have seen people bend and twist their theology and 
doctrine to make it line up with their prejudices and fears. Multitudes 
this year walked by sight rather than by faith while being swept up into
 emotional political hurricanes and mob mentalities which all could have
 been much more God glorifying than they shall, years from now, turn out
 to be in the final historical analysis. Periods of America’s churchy 
past are far from scripturally sound and this year revealed much guile 
in us which was the opposite of spiritual fruit. God’s true church, just
 as it was during the not so distant and extremely profitable era of 
American slavery, is indeed invisible. Thank God for zealous 
abolitionists. However, in terms of representation in American churches,
 righteousness was quite the minority then as is the case this very 
moment. Some still wonder if Heaven will be segregated. We have heaped 
shame upon ourselves in abundance, Heavenly Father. Please help us, Lord
 God Almighty, to see ourselves the way You see us and not through 
phantasmagorical rose colored glasses like we apparently see ourselves 
as though we have not sinned and You are a liar (1 John 1:8-10). 
 
 You have not called us to win any popularity contests, Lord. The truth 
always has and always shall either make us mad or make us glad. Such is 
the nature of conviction, Holy One of Israel. Righteousness shall never 
sit on the fence. There is no in between. There shall be no co-mingling 
of funds so to speak. I suspect my friends list shall dwindle not many 
days hence after the transparency with which I have herein had the gall 
to express myself. And, oh my goodness, has this American actually had 
the nerve to play the race card as we have so benignly classified such 
blood forced verity? Has another figurative Native American actually had
 the nerve to cry foul from the Trail of Tears? Yet, being neither a 
prophet nor the son of a prophet, I am completely unconcerned how I 
appear to people who can neither create nor destroy my life. “It is too 
late baby. Now, it’s too late,” said Carole King some forty one years 
ago. Whether it is regarded as diatribe or ballyhoo, my cat is out of 
the bag. Praise God! I am but a foolish thing of the world if I confound
 but one wise man in this day and age. 
 
 Fortunately for the 
faint of heart, like a bear, I am entering hibernation now with these 
keystrokes. I am not boring as some have surmised. There should be some 
humor evident in whatever this communication is ultimately classified. 
Genuine friends will love me hereafter regardless of what I think out 
loud. All may take solace in the fact that I shall not soon be heard 
from again. I need a season of quiet reflection, perhaps a month, 
perhaps longer, in which to dream of a kinder, gentler America than this
 year has fully disclosed. We are a nation of brilliant rain men. Idiot 
savants rule us. I would imagine at least one someone out there shares 
this sentiment. I want my imagination to run wild having been fed a 
steady diet of God’s Word, the whole counsel of God, and nothing but the
 truth. 
 
 Therefore, help me, God is my prayer. Make me a 
thousand times more loving, forgiving, and compassionate than I am. Help
 me to wash away all the pain of my experience thus far so that all that
 remains in me is what You shall use to glorify Your holy name, Lord 
Jehovah. Hallelujah! I am excited about the new things around the corner
 of my life in Christ. I anticipate sharper senses, keener insights, and
 greater discernment through which You shall be glorified and exalted. 
Purify my thoughts, oh Lord. Strengthen my resolve to present my body a 
living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto You. Please do not allow me to 
be conformed to this world, oh God. Help me to be transformed by the 
renewing of this mind so that I may prove what is that good, and 
acceptable, and perfect will which originates in the thinking of the 
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost who agree wholeheartedly in Heaven 
as one . Hallelujah! Smile graciously upon and bless exceeding, 
abundantly, each and every soul who spared the time to read this 
inconsequential post during my hiatus. Thank You that I can hear You 
more clearly now, Lord. If I never do this again, please let me serve 
You more obediently with the greatest sense of purpose imaginable. Let 
me take everything as seriously as I have taken music all of my life 
thus far. Let me gladly give up Facebook altogether if that is what You 
call me to do in this hour, Lord. Considering what You have done and 
continue to do for my benefit, I will gladly change my life for You, 
Almighty God. Help me to decrease so that You may increase in me for the
 rest of my days in Jesus’ mighty name. Amen. 
© 2012 Brian L Hunter
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