Last night I attended a men’s monthly Bible study at a church in Lamar. My neighbors had been inviting me for a couple of months, but when that mythical third Monday would roll around, I’d always have some outstanding obligation (mainly rehearsal for the Spooktacular). Since I’m running for Town Council again in January, I figured it would be good to feed my soul and my political ambitions simultaneously (they also brought sub sandwiches, so I was pretty well-fed holistically by the time I left).
The evening was spiritually, culturally, and politically encouraging. These men were fired up for Jesus, our country, and Trump, in that order. After everybody caught up a bit and after some introductions (I was the new guy at the meeting), the conversation gradually turned to politics, starting (I believe) with the necessity for a border wall, and Biden’s hare-brained pledge to tear it down.
From there, it was a free-ranging discussion, including vigorous airings of grievances; laments for the state of our nation; pledges to resist excessive government mandates; and repeated admonitions to trust in God. Our Scripture reading was Psalm 138. The Psalm is a reminder that God is in control, and will support us in our hour of need. Here’s verse 7, from the New King James Version:
7Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me;
You will stretch out Your hand
Against the wrath of my enemies,
And Your right hand will save me.
The discussion of Scripture and relating it to our present difficulties was a good reminder to avoid despair. Despair is a sin, as it implies a lack of trust in the promises of God. It inevitably leads to nihilism—the exact opposite of what God intends for us.
It was also encouraging to be amid like-minded men in various phases in their lives. Young and old, we were all informed on the problems plaguing our nation and our electoral system, but took solace in trusting in God. When someone asked what we would do if the authorities attempted to outlaw Christmas Eve services and came busting into the church, every man pledged to stand among those who would be arrested for daring to celebrate Christ’s Birth.
That’s a very remote possibility here in South Carolina, but it’s not so far-fetched. The close counts in Georgia and North Carolina indicate how much progressives have invaded and infiltrated the South (another topic of conversation). I doubt SC DHEC will send goon squads to break up Christmas Eve candlelight services—this year. What about in ten years? Or five? The pace of progressive change is so whiplash-quick, it’s not hard to imagine some bluer localities adopting draconian measures. Chicago has outlawed Thanksgiving gatherings; Michigan’s wicked witch of a governor is also banning family gatherings.
Nevertheless, the fact that these men were willing to risk everything to worship God was reassuring. A critique of middle-class conservatives is that we will ultimately choose comfort and our paychecks over the Truth—we talk a big game about resistance, but will fold like a house of cards when the rubber bullets start flying. This small gathering of Christian men suggests otherwise.
As I was sitting in the meeting, I imagined hundreds of other small gatherings and Bible studies all over the country. Surely similar conversations are being had among like-minded men. If that’s the case, we may have a chance at saving our nation after all.
Regardless, God is in control; it’s in His Hands.
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