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8/8/2019 Drop the Cymbal Before the World Goes Deaf http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/drop-the-cymbal-before-the-world-goes-deaf 1/5 Drop the Cymbal Before the World Goes Deaf By Thom Hunter -- http://thom-signsofastruggle.blogspot.com/ All I ever needed to know in life I learned on the treadmill with my earphones on. Not really. But . . . I have learned some things in the afternoon cross-connection between Glenn Beck and Oprah Winfrey, switching between them when commercials come on, their wisdom delivered directly through my earphones in the midst of an adrenaline rush while I try to burn off about 400 calories before the programs end. I'm a captive audience, taking in the technology and the glitz . . . and the messages of the hosts and guests, all carefully edited and sharpened to a point. Got me. What I've learned from Glenn is that no matter what happens in the elections, we're going to be going to hell in a more expensive hand basket . . . and we need to make some changes. Be better brothers to each other and restore the values of the forefathers and put lots of stuff in the garage. And pray . . . a lot. And buy books . . . a lot of books. What I've learned from Oprah is that glitz and guts count more than truth and glory when it comes to deciding what it right and wrong for us. What's really important is that you know who you are and are true to yourself; not that you know who He -- that would be God -- says you are and are true to Him. Yesterday's Oprah show-and-tell

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8/8/2019 Drop the Cymbal Before the World Goes Deaf

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Drop the Cymbal Before the WorldGoes Deaf 

By Thom Hunter -- http://thom-signsofastruggle.blogspot.com/

All I ever needed to know in life I learned on the treadmill with my earphones on.

Not really.

But . . . I have learned some things in the afternoon cross-connection between GlennBeck and Oprah Winfrey, switching between them when commercials come on, their wisdom delivered directly through my earphones in the midst of an adrenaline rushwhile I try to burn off about 400 calories before the programs end. I'm a captiveaudience, taking in the technology and the glitz . . . and the messages of the hostsand guests, all carefully edited and sharpened to a point.

Got me.

What I've learned from Glenn is that no matter what happens in the elections, we'regoing to be going to hell in a more expensive hand basket . . . and we need to makesome changes. Be better brothers to each other and restore the values of theforefathers and put lots of stuff in the garage. And pray . . . a lot. And buy books . . .a lot of books.

What I've learned from Oprah is that glitz and guts count more than truth and glorywhen it comes to deciding what it right and wrong for us. What's really important isthat you know who you are and are true to yourself; not that you know who He -- thatwould be God -- says you are and are true to Him. Yesterday's Oprah show-and-tell

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was Ricky Martin, the suave, talented Puerto Rican singer who makes girls swoon, ishappier and happier as each day passes because he has proclaimed his gaynessand made it safe for all Hispanics to come out of the closet and be who they weremeant to be. Let's sing a new song and make the world a better place. If he hadever known, he gushes -- right after watching an old clip of himself dancing along asa cheery 12-year-old in the group Menudo -- how wonderful it would be, he wouldhave come out long ago. It's just so beautiful "out" here. Have a coke and a smile.A very bright and brilliant perfect smile.

And the Oprah audience? Ooohing and aahing over Ricky like he has suddenlypried open a door of wisdom, not released a new CD, called, appropriately enough,"Me." As if he is sharing a treasured belief reflecting the Creator's grand design, nothis own book about "Me," from which he read a poignant passage picked by Oprahherself, applauding himself for coming out and making the path clear for his childrento grow up in a world of acceptance and be good to all their lovers. From a practicedchoir, the chorus of "Awwws" swept over him, his perfect smile beaming equally tothe Oprah-proud studio audience hoping to win a surprise gift from the zillionaire

host, and out to all the broken people sitting behind televisions in their afternooneasy chairs of solitude or pounding out calories on their treadmills of hope: "Just belike me. Free to be." No prizes, no live performances by the trainer-sculpted,fashion-designer draped, make-up-enhanced, fortune-propped up happy man. Justa box of Oreos or a sweat-towel, depending on your preference for what makes youfeel better today.

And then Ricky sings his new song. Buy the CD. Get the book. There ain't nothingwrong with you that a little idol worship can't fix. The men in the culture-gildedmansions -- the Eltons, the Doogies, the Ellens and the Rickys -- say so; the Godwho builds your mansion says . . . "no."

If Oprah and Ricky think we're all good just as we are, with no need to change, thenwhat else matters? Just . . . feel the love. Go with the flow. Love ya . . . peck, peck.

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord.

“Though your sins are like scarlet,they shall be as white as snow;

though they are red as crimson,they shall be like wool. -- Isaiah 1:18 

There's the love.

Come . . .Now . . .Scarlet sins . . . white snowCrimson sins . . . like wool

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Most important? "Let's settle the matter." 

Why are we so unsettled about settling the matter?Why do we dig deep for justification when truth lies in plain sight?Why do we build mansions to hide in when true joy comes when the walls fall down?Why do we follow pied pipers who peddle the doctrine of self-acceptance instead of following the words of the One who paid the price for our self?Why do we look for others' words to lift us out of darkness when He said "I am thelight?"Why doe we look for others to lead us out of that darkness when He said "I am theWay?"

Why do we hasten to hidden places instead of hiding His word in our hearts?Why do we cry out to be known when He tells us He has always known us?Why do we seek other voices when He said "listen?"Why do we rush from door-to-door when He said His would open if we would butknock?

Why do we run toward cliffs of uncertainty when He said "come" . . . "now" to thecalmness of certainty, the satisfaction of settling?

We're filling the void with the wrong voices pushing the wrong choices. We canread . . . we can hear . . . we can speak . . . we can share. We could care . . . if we'ddare.

Dare to love. For real. Not like Ricky on a sound stage, or Elton behind diamond-studded glasses, or Ellen dancing around in tennis shoes laughing, or Neal PatrickHarris in a sitcom, or Oprah in isolated self-celebration. No, like Christ, giving,longing, seeking, teaching, healing, helping, seeing, hearing, saying, changing.LOVING. All truth; zero glitz. All giving; no taking. Forgiving us for what we

became; changing us to what we should be. Coming alongside so we don't have towonder where we're headed. Guiding us in and forward; not erecting roadblocks ona route of rejection. Talent and riches aside, these actors and singers are just peoplelike the rest of us, tempted in a fallen world. I would never wish them harm -- indeed Iwish them wholeness -- but I do wish them truth, so they could use their voices tolead other strugglers to freedom instead of to ticket lines and concert halls. Blindguides.

In a world frightfully flinging itself along to no-where, Jesus proves the patience of love and says "Come." "Now." He is always ready, always waiting.

And the Help of the helpless says . . . help.

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love Me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love Me?” He

said, “Lord, You know all things; You know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed My sheep." -- John 21:17

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Peter was hurt? Well . . . I would be too if Jesus had to ask me three times if I lovedHim. Why else do I always do what He says is good?  Always believe what He saysis true? Feed his sheep? Oh . . .

Did I hear that right? If I love you, I will feed your sheep? Are you talking to me?Hold on, let me turn down the . . .

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only aresounding gong or a clanging cymbal. -- I Corinthians 13:1

As Christians we're out of tune on the sexual brokenness issue, gonging andclanging, offering headaches for heartaches . . . and the mute button is getting aworkout. Cue Ricky and his feel-good, all-is-well, love-love-love smile. So happy.

Unfortunately, we often don't know religious from righteous, Christianity fromchurchianity; hope from a hole-in-the-ground, mercy from meanness, forgiveness

from forget it, love from leave. We teach restoration, redemption and rescue. Andthen we run from the reaching. Cue Oprah.

"But do not have love?"  There's the rub. All those polished words are but thecymbals from which the clanging erupts. We're not real in voice or deed. Wememorize the verses and know the applications, but we don't really love . . . notenough of us. Yes, some do . . . but the church is a collective, a body. We believersare not requiring much of each other, even as we demand a great deal from thebroken who would love . . .love? . . . to join us and share in what we say we have.Peace. Mercy. Grace. Wholeness.

I'm not lamenting the lack of love demonstrated towards me when I was hiding in the

church like a broken boat towed into harbor, weighted with guilt from an out-of-control obsession with a love-me temptation that had twisted itself into a use-mefixation. I know now the need for them to see true confession and real repentance, toknow for sure this was actually a sheep . . . and not in wolf's clothing. Actually, thelack of love I experienced makes the need to share it so clear now. A calling from thefalling. In its own way, that vacuum was a blessing.

Know some sheep? Love Christ? Then why are they so hungry? Will they find whatyou are withholding somewhere out there in the welcoming wilderness among thewolves who . . . want them . . . in ways Jesus never intended for His sheep to bedevoured in their weaknesses?

If someone comes to the pantry door, weak and thin, hand outstretched,not feigning faintness, but near to falling, we fill their cup. The sexually-broken are nodifferent. They are weak, fading, fearing, losing feeling, so-often falling they mightnot know which way is up . . . fill the cup. Don't sound the gong. Don't send them todrink from the stagnant creek of a cackling culture instead of the living water of anendless river of grace.

Jesus bore the debt and bore the burden, yet too many Christians can barely bear 

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the sight. If the sexual sin of others repulses you in a way that your sins don't, prayfor forgiveness for your lack of forbearance and God will give you strength.

For the homosexual, the pornography-addicted, the adulterer, the lust-bound, keepyour courage and keep coming. In the body of the church are the hands and feet of the faithful who will love you and walk with you and speak truth into your lives,catching you with compassion when you fall until you finally stand and live beyondthe chains. They may be too few, but they are better than the "it gets better" bunch.

There really is a way out, but it takes a double-dare. One dares to seek. Another dares to care. Both dare to love. In the absence of cymbals they hear each other;truth wins a battle and sin slithers away in darkness.

Jesus said "Come." The world is watching to see if we agree with Him . . . and to seewhat happens if they do indeed come.

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