In Which the Gloves Come Off

Some of this is hyperbole, but you’ll have to work that out for yourself, because I am a radical, a total nut-case.

You know, that English word drawn from the Latin radix, meaning “root” — as in, getting back to the roots. You’ll have to set aside the politicized meaning of the word in our modern discourse, wherein we shout slogans at one another, but nobody actually talks to people who think differently. Not just the roots as in “the good ol’ days” of whatever you imagine things might have been, but way back beyond anything you probably know about.

I’m all about getting back to the Garden of Eden, of walking through the messy disemboweling of our human lives at the Flaming Sword of Divine Revelation, the voluntary act of repentance, literally turning away from all that man has built up to prevent naked communion with God. And if I have to bend and break rules of grammar and English usage along the way, you can either hang on tight or get the Hell away.

Jeremiah was a radical, and technically a traitor to boot. He preached about surrendering to the invading Babylonian forces. Elijah was a traitor, too. He called God’s fire down from Heaven onto the arresting posse of troops sent after him. Jesus was a radical in that sense, since everything He taught condemned His government, and wasn’t too easy on those in charge of the lawful worship in the Temple.

So while I can’t pretend I’m in the company of those men, their lives indicate it’s not inherently wrong to challenge the existing system.

I carry on like a clergyman. I am well aware of how that works in our society. Except there is not a single organized religious institution suitable for my calling. Not a one of them that I’ve encountered is doing enough right that I could stand to participate. You belong to a church? I reject your church, and if the leadership knew enough about me, they’d reject me, too. In other words, just about all the baggage one expects to find with a clergyman is missing in my life.

We are in such bad shape that we can’t do anything righteous without starting all over from scratch. And on a another planet. In a different dimension. It’s as if we all come from other star systems, so totally alien we can’t imagine who Christ is. I’m that radical.

But I’m not carrying any swords, bombs or torches. I’m not calling fire down from Heaven on folks who don’t agree with me. All I’m doing is standing out in the wilderness, a very far and safe distance from our damned rotting civilization, and calling for folks to come out of that world. Stop being Western; stop being “Christian” by the commonly accepted meanings. Stop being “civilized” in accordance with the biggest lie the Devil has offered so far.

What do you have to change? You are the only one who can know the answer to that. That is, you have to get that directly from God yourself. I’ll offer suggestions in the form of what I am doing, but you’ll never catch me insisting you have to do it my way. But I will always insist that the way you see it done all around you is wrong, wrong, WRONG! I assure you that if people aren’t shitting their pants at your words and behavior, you are not trying hard enough. They crucified Jesus for what He said and did.

If you are not some kind of living, flaming challenge to everyone’s assumptions, then you are moral chickenshit. But I’ll wait for you to catch on. I’m not in any big hurry. Meanwhile, if pagans, Buddhists, Muslims, atheists — and folks who don’t fit any useful labels — cluster to this blog while Christians throw flaming darts, I think I’m doing a good job of talking about Christ.

I’m not going to come after you and drag you away from your current life. You have to volunteer. You have to throw away all the stuff you have now and take that long damned hike out where I am. You’ll never make it unless God is with you. I’m not out here to offer an example in the sense that you need to ape me and join my little cult. I’m pretty hard to find (sometimes hard to understand) in the first place, so every escapee is likely a friend. If you simply opt out of the mainstream, chances are you’ll think of me as an ally at the minimum. There are so few of us, that I’m glad for that little bit of company.

This ain’t no movie with a happy ending. Welcome to my insanity, if you can handle it.