Pastor Hurst

IT’S RIGHTEOUS ANGER, RIGHT?*

You may insist you never experience road rage but, if so, I suspect you haven’t yet begun to drive, are super-phlegmatic, or have nothing much to do or nowhere really to go. I think road rage, like all anger, is pretty much part of the warp and woof of our fallen humanity. I began this article contending rage’s universality so that you might not be too hard on my admission of it. Once, I was in a rush to make visitations at two different hospitals with the necessity of making it to the last one at a set time. At the first hospital, before I even got to the parking garage, I found myself behind a lady intent on talking to her passengers rather than driving. She was driving two mph or less. Once in the garage, though it seemed impossible, she slowed even more. There were no parking spaces available on the first levels. I was forced to follow her. Being in a hurry, I felt that anger slowly beginning to percolate from somewhere deep within. “Can’t she tell that someone is behind her? Doesn’t she care that she is holding someone up?” You know that feeling. You are hurling down the road at the 55-mph limit, and someone pulls and turns out in front of you forcing you to lock up the brakes; and, then, the infringer never accelerates past 25 mph—that feeling. Perhaps, at your sanctification level, you are beyond ever experiencing anger. I’m not. Later, listening to a talk radio host discussing the presidential orders, Supreme Court decisions, and current political candidates’ propagation and support of perversion and sin under the guise of equality, I began to feel the same type of anger I did when the slow pokey driver had impeded my driving. Were the experiences of anger related? I think so. We could take a lot of time to discuss the exceptions, and we could attempt to justify some anger by calling it righteous anger. However, I still believe this about most anger: My anger is my frustration of not getting my own way, of having something interfere with me, my way, my thoughts, my schedule, my work, etc. My anger rises from what is done to me. I use the same arguments as others that my disgust and anger I feel about things like the transgender bathroom use is righteous wrath against the unrighteousness and encroaching darkness. And I would like to believe that is all it is. Yet, I still suspect that political rage is a close cousin to road rage and most other rages. MY country is being altered and ruined. MY beliefs are being maligned, MY freedoms are being trampled, MY political convictions are being marginalized, and MY candidate is being beaten. Mine is righteous anger, right? I could justify my anger by calling up the example of Moses who waxed hot with anger when he saw the people dancing before the golden calf. But I cannot leave it there because Moses’ anger soon was replaced by his earnest intercession to God that He would not destroy them. Jeremiah had been sorely persecuted for his chastisement of the people for their sins. He could have been very angry. Yet, Jeremiah shed many tears for the same people. Back to Moses and the golden calf. It could be pointed out that anger is justifiable since in the same incident it is noted that God was angry with the people. Perhaps I can use God’s anger to justify mine. But, rarely is my anger pure anger like God’s. Most human anger is true of the nature I wrote of above. Beyond that, I keep being reminded of what James told us. “The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.” If it is truly the unrighteousness that upsets us, we must not only become angry at it. That will never change unrighteousness into righteousness. Intercession can. Weeping can. Not anger. If I am truly concerned about my country, I will intercede, I will weep; I will not simply rage. If you feel a little angry over what I have written, intercede. Weep. Don’t rage. ----Pastor Hurst *Written before the 2016 elections.

MR. BIDEN GETS IT RIGHT

News-attentive people of our nation and around the globe were alarmed and shocked by President Biden’s use of the word Armageddon this past week. He did so to describe the danger portended by Russian President Putin’s tacit threat to use nuclear weapons against Ukraine and any who would interfere on her behalf. In case you missed it, at a Democratic fundraiser last Thursday night, President Biden warned, “We have not faced the prospect of Armageddon since Kennedy and the Cuban Missile Crisis,” referring to Putin’s threats. Using words like Armageddon and Apocalypse and others, media anchors, commentators, and pundits and TV show and movie makers, borrow from our Bible’s metaphors and language. Often, they don’t use the actual terms and descriptions; they just allude to them with the phrase, “of Biblical Proportions.” The aftermath of catastrophes of nature and cataclysms from malevolent human deeds are described as being of “Biblical Proportion.” The destructive forces that caused them are labeled “Biblical.” I don’t feel like their use of Biblical language is flattering. Rather, I want to berate them mockingly with “Get your own metaphors. Get a thesaurus and come up with your own adjectives. Do you need a title for your dystopic movie? Quit borrowing one from the Bible.” But then, I didn’t write the Bible, and I don’t think God copyrighted it. But there is something to be noted: First, when the secular world has run out of superlatives to describe the horrible, awful, and calamitous, they know they can resort to the Bible for even greater appalling and dreadful language. Second, though they wouldn’t understand nor concede so, they are actually from their vantage point seeing what Biblical prophecy says is coming. I am amazed at how close they and Mr. Biden come to getting it right all the while employing the apocalyptic language of the Bible. It's amazing how close they get to what the Bible has prophesied. For example, describing the effects of climate change, the “authorities” herald global warming that will result in disastrous consequences of “Biblical proportions.” The Bible DOES forewarn of global warming. It prophesies a conflagration that will engulf not just this planet but its atmosphere. That is global warming of Biblical proportion. Another example is scientists’ fearfully warning of the possibility of an asteroid, something from space, hitting our planet with effects of “Biblical proportions.” That is why two weeks ago they completed and vaunted the successful mission of launching a spacecraft and striking an asteroid in distant space. The end goal is to develop a missile that, when it is evident that an asteroid is on a trajectory to collide with the earth, can be launched to wobble the asteroid off its path. Again, they are not far wrong. The Bible speaks eschatologically of “stars,” a pan of coals (fiery censer), and other projectiles plummeting from the sky and plowing into the earth. Whether natural objects or supernatural, they will be of Divine instigation and aim. The effects will truly be of “Biblical proportions.” Just one more: World political, economic, and social leaders are decrying nationalism and crying for a one-world governance to respond to our world’s disasters, problems, and challenges. A global government is in their eyes and estimation, the only solution. They WILL get their way: There is coming a global government. It will be of “Biblical proportions.” It will come with a global dictator. The Antichrist. Mr. Biden, you are right. There is going to be Armageddon. But not just a metaphorical one. The metaphor describes the last battle between good and evil will be fought. The descriptive figure of speech comes from the Bible’s prophesy of a coming battle between the forces of evil and the forces of good just before the second coming of Christ and the end of the world as we now know it. I have been there. Megiddo is a real place. Standing on the edge of Mt. Carmel’s peak, I gazed into the wide Megiddo valley below. There I heard the Biblical prophesies about the place playing in my mind’s ears while seeing distant armies marching toward each other in my mind’s eyes. It was then that it struck me. The other places we visited and would visit were places significant because they marked where something historically had already happened. Megiddo was the only place we visited whose greatest significance was for what had not yet happened: But will. The Battle of Armageddon. Yes, Mr. Biden, you are right. We are living under the prospect of the battle of Armageddon that is sure to come. Since the political, scientific, sociological, and economic, authorities are going to use Biblical language to prognosticate, I believe I will skip listening to them and just go to the source from which they borrow it. I will just go to the Bible, note, believe, and heed what it says is coming. The Source gets it right. I’m not referring to Biden. But to the Bible.

TIME FOR REVERSE-DISPLACEMENT

Most often, a believer’s passion for Christ, for the things of God, for spiritual things, doesn’t just dissipate; it is displaced. One’s passion for Christ doesn’t usually just slowly leak out like air from a compromised tire. It is pushed out of its chair by another passion that then occupies where passion for Christ had sat. Two things this past week fixed the above conclusion in my mind: Something I read in a biography of President Chester Arthur, and a radio program discussing the homeless. Arthur’s biographer was discussing the president’s father’s flaming spiritual fervor. Chester's father had been called to preach during the fires of America’s Second Great Awakening. Explaining the need and impact of that awakening, the writer made a statement that struck me as an applicable commentary on the period of time we have just passed through. The author had taken the reader back to the First Great Awakening of the early 1700s during which America had experienced a tremendous revival. Spiritual fervor. Passion. But, during the colonies’ struggle for Independence in the 1770s and 1780s, “the conflict with Great Britain focused American’s attention on political upheaval, rather than on religious salvation, and membership in New England churches plummeted.” (The Unexpected President, Greenberger, Scott S.) Patriotic passion had displaced Spiritual passion. Upon reading this shocking fact, I immediately was reminded of 2019-2020: COVID and Politics had enflamed the passions of all Americans. Including Christians. Including conservative Christians. Because COVID restrictions so affected our Churches, because the rabid, ridiculous, radical machinations and policies of the left were heralded and enacted, it became easier and easier for caring and alarmed Christians to conflate spiritual and political passion. As in the Revolution, when Christians suffered both from the rigors and deprivations of war with Britain and at the same time were at the peak of national patriotism and political fervor, 2019-2020 saw Christians suffering from the crises of COVID and at the peak of political fervor over the impeachments of “their president,” a “stolen” election, and godless, perverted leftist ideologies dominating schools, government, and media. And, just like in the Revolution era, the spiritual passions were displaced by the patriotic and political. The desire for “religious salvation” has in wide swaths been supplanted by the desire for political salvation. And, again, church membership has plummeted. Not everywhere. Some churches are doing better than ever. Sharing the Gospel more fervently than ever. They are growing. But they are an exceptional anomaly. Churches have suffered. “Christians” have left the faith. The second thing was the radio program on homelessness. Pre-COVID, a co-op of churches had been providing lodging and food for the homeless. In the interview, the director was asked how that ministry was doing since COVID. You could hear the sadness in the director’s voice. She gave the numbers, which I cannot recall, but in gist, she said this. “Since COVID, churches have lost members, and we have lost many of those churches’ involvement. We are now able to help only a fraction we were helping before.” Another causality. In the end, the co-op of churches has suffered because individual Christians have lost their spiritual passion. And, in almost every case, their passion has been displaced by another. The reality is, it is very difficult to hold competing passions in balance without one displacing the other. It’s hard for them to share a seat. Even legitimate ones like a passion for one’s work and a passion for family. Very difficult. A passion for sports and a passion for the church. A passion for politics and a passion for evangelism. A passion for a hobby and a passion for ministry. A passion for your country and a passion for the Kingdom. This should not surprise us. Jesus warned that one will “hold to the one and despise the other.” Of legitimate passions, the “balance” is to be found in prioritization: Jesus went on to say, “But seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness." Passion for Christ must remain in the highest chair of one’s heart. No other passion must unseat it. Displace it. What about when the passion for Christ has been displaced? The answer is reverse-displacement. Reverse the displacement. Commit to having the passion for Christ displace the things that have displaced Christ. Have the passion to have the passion for Christ displace the passions that have displaced the passion for Christ. Have the desire of Paul: “But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things butloss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them butdung, that I may win Christ, … That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death;” (Php 3:7-10). May this passion to know Christ displace all other passions. It’s time for a reverse-displacement passion. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

DO YOU NEED TO THROW UP?

Warning: Content is gross! What I am about to write about is admittedly really gross. It’s about throwing up. Vomiting. Regurgitating. Upchucking. Heaving. Retching. Puking. You get the idea, and writing all those synonyms has made me feel nauseated. If you take exception with my language, I appeal to Jesus. He used the same word when He noted His reaction to the Church of Laodicea’s lukewarmness. He said He would spew, vomit, them out of His mouth. Throw up. It’s not the vomiting of the stomach that I’m talking about. It’s the vomiting of the mind, of the heart. Why do we vomit? Described in layperson’s terms, a bug causes a build-up of poison in the stomach and one must get it out. In more medical terms, a virus has caused one’s gastrointestinal tract to become irritated and inflamed and any contents in it further irritate it. Vomiting is the intestinal tract’s effort to rid itself of all those irritants. Either description will serve the purpose here: Sometimes we need to vomit, to throw up. Not because our stomach is irritated, not because of a build-up of poison in our belly, but because our mind is irritated. There is a build-up in our hearts. We’ve got a bug of hurt. We’ve got a virus of worry. Something has poisoned our emotions and irritated our minds. Probably going to be a bit too transparent here, but, hey, I’m already talking about vomit. Once, I was so troubled in mind and heart with news I had received and could not process, I felt I had to talk to someone. I went to a friend and warned him. “I have to talk to someone. I am so upset I have to get it out.” I explained why I felt I had to share: “It’s like having a stomach virus. You feel a buildup of poison, and you have to get it out. This isn’t going to be pretty. Throwing up never is. But it gives relief. At least for a little while.” Then, I poured out the pain and poison of my trouble. When I finished, I said, “I’m sorry that I threw up all over you.” God knows our stomachs--and our hearts. He made both. He knows we need to empty the poison of each. He has designed the stomach to eject its poison through throwing up. He has given our hearts and minds a way to rid themselves of their poison. God informed us of this with an invitation via the admonition of a Psalmist. “Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: … (Psa 62:8). “Pour out.” In the psalm, “pour out” is rooted in another analogy--the pouring out of blood from the body. Blood that ultimately comes from the heart. Pour out the emotions of your heart. Pour out what is troubling you. Pour out your life, yourself. Essentially, throw up the poison of your heart and the trouble of your mind. We have an example of this in Hannah. The only clue that she was pouring out her heart was that her lips were moving. But she was pouring out her pain of not being able to have a child, of being ridiculed and tormented by a rival wife. The observing priest, Eli, seeing her lips move and trying to find an explanation for such uncommon behavior in “church” concluded Hannah was drunk. “You need to quit hitting the bottle. You’re drunk!” he charged. Hannah responded: “Oh, no, Sir! ‘I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soulbefore the LORD.’” (1Sa 1:15). Again, slightly different analogy but same idea. Getting out what is troubling you. Throwing up. The invitation and admonition is to pour out our hearts to God. That, we definitely need to do. We need to pray. We need to cry out to God. We need to pour out and cast all our cares upon Him. Yet, although I don’t believe in confessors, God has made us so that we need others. Human others. Sometimes to pour out your heart to a friend, a confidant, a spouse, a pastor, is a must. It is tantamount to pouring your heart out to God. God uses such folks. Just a note of caution here: Just as you do not want to throw up in public in front of everyone, but in private, so with those personal, intimate, pains, poisons, and such. Never do you want to throw those up in public. It is a real friend and confidant that will allow you to throw up your sickened heart to him. The person to whom you do so may have nothing to say to help and may be able to do nothing to help the cause of the pain, but it will relieve you to be able to unburden your soul. If there is such a one in your life to whom you can rid yourself of the build-up of poison, be grateful for them, and go get it all out to them. Throw up. There is something to be said to such confidants. As I told my friend: “I just threw up all over you. You may not want to talk to me anymore because my sharing all of this must be toxic. It was toxic in me. It had to be difficult to listen to me.” “No,” he insisted, “I want you to share. You got to share.” I am thankful for his understanding and friendship. Nobody likes to be thrown up on no matter how close they are to you. It isn’t pleasant to be around someone throwing up. It can feel like you are getting thrown up on. It can make you feel ill yourself. However, I have visited the hospital when a patient suddenly became nauseated. A nurse would be trying to help. The patient would throw up and, in the process, get it on the nurse. The patient when finished would begin to apologize. The nurse, whatever her revulsion and displeasure over what had gotten on her would say, “It’s okay. You’re sick. I just want to help you.” So do true friends. So does God. Be thankful that you can pour out your heart to them. It will help. Are you troubled in heart and mind? Has worry and pain poisoned your thoughts? Has it all built up until you are just soul-sick? Do you need to throw up? Go throw up! Share with a trusted friend. More importantly, pour out your heart before God. --Pastor Clifford Hurst *Are you weary, are you heavyhearted? Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus; Are you grieving over joys departed? Tell it to Jesus alone. Chorus: Tell it to Jesus, tell it to Jesus, He is a friend that's well known; You've no other such a friend or brother, Tell it to Jesus alone. “Are You Weary, Are You Heavy-hearted?” Author: Jeremiah Eames Rankin

A MISERABLE BIG FISH IN A MIGHTY SMALL POND

It is largely the reason for the craziness we are seeing in our society—everything from mandatory pronoun use to gender transitioning. It is the reason for most of the vitriol and anger—real or affected. It is the reason for the easily-offended-ism. It is the reason for pompous arrogance and narcissism on one hand and despair, suicidal inclinations, and deprecating inferiority on the other. It is the reason our government is imploding, our places of higher learning are deteriorating, our families are fragmenting, and, in many places, our churches are being ravaged. It is the Main Character Syndrome. Main Character Syndrome describes when one thinks, imagines, or acts as if he were the leading protagonist in life. Knowing our base nature and the drive for self-preservation, I suppose that humanity has always had its chronic sufferers of the Main Character Syndrome (MCS) and that all people have bouts of it. However, today we have an epidemic of it. The internet has facilitated its outbreak, transmission, and casualties. Folks post what they had for breakfast. And lunch. And supper. And the snacks in between. Everyday. As if these were great accomplishments. Their story is the one that matters. And in their story, they are the only one that matters. (Not that it’s wrong to share things of your life. The issue is why and how you share.) TikTok is largely nothing but the postings of those suffering Main Character Syndrome—and, at the same time, it’s also a main proliferator of MCS. Safe spaces have to be provided on college campuses so that folks can assuage and massage their Main Character Syndrome. The definition of marriage had to be mutilated so someone could pacify his urge to be the main character. We could go delineating the damage. If only people were satisfied to be the main character of just their story. Rarely are they. Not satisfied with having the leading role in their story, they attempt to insert themselves into the leading role of any and every story. Posted on the internet is a tragic loss of life in a distant state. An MCS sufferer, though he may have only once crossed paths with the deceased, in the comment section exudes on and on about how close he was to the deceased, what an impact the deceased had in the great accomplishments the commenter has made, how he has become the great person he is because of the deceased. There is a car accident that imperils the survival of some involved. A sufferer of the MCS may have only driven past and rubbernecked the scene. Yet, later, as he tells of the accident, somehow, he becomes the lead actor. He narrates with embellishments and redactions in such a way that he comes out as the hero that saved the occupants’ lives. He may have only made the 911 call--a later redundant one. Or, pulled over to let the ambulance through. But he is the hero. MCS is another reason I abhor the ubiquitous hackneyed “My story, my story, my story, my journey, my journey, my journey…” I get it. We all have a unique story, a unique journey. We would all profit if we took the time to inquire after and then listen to the unique stories of others’ lives. When a single person of the 7 billion inhabitants of the earth dies, an irretrievable modicum of history is lost forever. The aggravation isn’t that an individual has a story. It’s his obsession with his story. As if his story is all about him. He not only plays the leading roles but the supporting roles and every role. As a pastor, I have observed how the MCS is destroying individuals. At times, I am aggravated but mostly I hurt for them. They are miserable. They cannot be content in a church family. They cannot forge lasting relationships with folks. They can never live in reality. They cannot become a part of any ministry they do not lead. They must have the leading role—either as subject or object--or they are not happy. Or, they must be able to cast themselves in later telling as the main character. They see everything and everybody and every event only in terms of themselves as the main character. It is truly all about them. A fellow worshipper avoided them. The preacher intentionally targeted them. The one who brought donuts didn’t bring their favorite. The songs were not the ones they would have selected. They were not asked to sing. They must be the main character. Yes, MCS sufferers are not content just to be the main character of their own story. They must be the main character of every story. Or they won’t help write it. They must be a one-man band or they’re not playing. If it’s not their song, they are not singing. If it’s not their theme, they’re not amening. If it’s not their dance, they’re not dancing. If it wasn’t their idea, they’re not participating. If it’s not their thing, they’re not coming. Oh, they would, if they could be the main character. The great damage of MCS to an individual is that it prevents him from being a part of something larger than himself. He is the largest thing in his world. Not being a part of something larger than himself, he never finds meaning, purpose, or fulfillment. He is a big fish in a very small pond. A miserable big fish in a mighty small pond. Far better to be a small, contented fish in a large pond. Here’s the thing: For Christians and church, I thought Jesus was to be the Main Character. I thought that we were all about His Story. I thought He is who makes our story. Think of the difference it would make if each Christian, whether in personal life or the corporate life of the church, would make Jesus the Main Character. Jesus IS the Main Character of this story of the Gospel that transforms lives and gives hope, peace, love, and joy. He “plays” the life-altering, life-giving role. The question to ask is, “What would my story be like if I truly made, not me, but Jesus the Main Character of it?” I think the best thing for my and your story would be—pun intended—to let Jesus have the LEADING role. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

THERE’S A UNICORN GOING DOWN THE STREET”

“There’s a unicorn going down the street!” a four-year-old looking out the living room window shouts to her mother cooking in the kitchen. The mother puts down the mixing spoon and joins her child at the window, “Where?” Mom asks. The child points to the street, “There!” The mother peers out and exclaims, “Oh, you do see a unicorn! How wonderful of you! What a pretty unicorn. Mommy’s going to call Daddy at work and tell him. Then, Mommy’s going to bake a cake and invite folks over to celebrate your seeing a unicorn.” Rather, many mommies today would—or so they have been told by the culture that they should. In not so distant past if the child had announced, “Mommy, a unicorn is going down the street,” Mommy probably wouldn’t even have bothered to go look. She would have hollered from the kitchen. “No, you are not seeing a unicorn. But you do have such a wonderful, creative imagination.” If the child kept insisting, a less busy mother would join her child in looking out the window. Depending on what the mother saw she would respond to the child, “There’s no unicorn walking down the street.” Or, “Nothing is walking down the street.” Or, if there were, “Oh, honey, that’s not a unicorn. That’s just a horse.” Or, “Ha! Ha! The neighbors tied a stick to their dog’s head to make it look like a unicorn.” Or, improbably, “That’s not a unicorn. That’s a rhinoceros! It must have escaped from the zoo!” But the mother would have never agreed with her child that there was a unicorn walking down the street. Why? Because there would NOT have been a unicorn walking down the street. Not on that street. Not on any street. Not in any plat. Not in any city. Not in any country. Not on any planet. Not the legendary unicorn imagined by storytellers and artists. Not the one in the child’s picture books. Not the stuffed one in her daughter’s bedroom. Those are imaginary. Unicorns don’t walk down the street. The reason the mother of days gone by could say there was no unicorn walking down the street is she, as humanity always has, believed truth is what corresponds with reality--objective truth that is. The child declares there is a unicorn walking down the street but, that does not correspond with reality. What she claims isn't real. There is no unicorn. Never has been. Pop culture today would insist, “It may not be the mother’s truth that there is a unicorn walking down the street. But it IS the child’s truth. It is true to the child.” This is a ludicrous misunderstanding of the difference between subjective truth and objective truth. The child can say, “I love horses,” and it be true. That child does love horses. The mother can say, “I hate horses,” and it be true; the mother hates horses. But that is subjective truth. That kind of truth varies depending on how the one who says it feels. That’s why the child and mother have contradictory truths. What each says is true to her and not to the other. But this kind of truth involves preference, feelings, perceptions, and experiences, not objective realities. This is subjective truth. Objective truth is that there is either a horse walking down the street or not. The little girl can love unicorns and it be true (subjective), but she cannot say a unicorn is walking down the street and it be true (objective). Folks today, rather than acknowledging reality, think they can have their own view of reality. They believe their view of reality is reality. They believe that whatever they individually think, feel, and believe is reality. They think because they say it, what they say is real, the truth. Because they say there’s a unicorn walking down the street, there IS a unicorn walking down the street. And no one can contradict them. No one should attempt to prove them wrong by observing that there is NOT a unicorn going down the street. Not only can no one express to them that he sees NO unicorn going down the street, but he must also affirm them by saying, despite there being no unicorn, “You see a unicorn going down the street. How nice!” Not only must no one NOT say there is no unicorn, not only must one affirm them despite there being no unicorn, but all must also celebrate their seeing a unicorn. “You see a unicorn? How wonderful. You are such a great child for seeing a unicorn. You are so brave to believe there’s a unicorn walking down the street.” “I see a unicorn.” Take that claim and replace “see” with “feel,” and “unicorn” with a gender. Now the little girl says to her mother, “I feel like I am a boy.” The mother cannot say, “No, you are a little girl.” She must agree with her little girl and praise her for believing she is a boy. She must call dad at work to tell him the good news. She must bake a cake and invite extended family and friends to celebrate the little girl’s believing she is a boy.” And nobody, nobody, dare declare that she is NOT a little boy. All must agree with the little girl that “a unicorn is walking down the street.” The fact is, there IS a unicorn walking down America’s street. No, unicorns do not exist. But the mentality I write of above does. Objective truth as a measure, guide, and standard has fallen in the streets and subjective truth has the whole road to itself. It is strutting. Truth has fallen in the street. No, it has not just fallen, truth has been knocked down, pummeled, kicked to, and left lying at the curb. All the while, the unicorn, the figment of the perverse imagination of our culture that has forgotten God prances with head held high down the street. Or so it seems: However, “Forever, O LORD, thy word is settled in heaven.”(Psa 119:89). --Pastor Clifford Hurst