I was thinking recently about the vast amount of craze that characterizes American societies these days. As if the menace of widespread gun-violence is not enough, perverted people there are nowadays blatantly taking it upon themselves to “come out” one by one and proclaim with pride that indeed they are “gay”. Have you seen Magic Johnson’s gay son, Earvin? Check it out. Oh! His parents are proud of him.
Never before in the history of America have homosexuals found it so easy to be that brazen in the exposure of their stance on love, sex, gay and lesbian relationships, and same-sex marriage. Well, why not? Why should they be kept under cover? Why should they cower under hidden guilt and shame any longer? They may as well be loosed. It is their right just like everyone else to be liberal in the “land of the free and the home of the brave”.
And then I thought, like I always do, “Do these reprobates ever stop to think what God’s view is on the way they project themselves? Do they even consider that the sovereign God of their fathers require that they conduct their lifestyles in such a way that would revere Him? After all, this sovereign God has been just and considerate enough to give to every member of the human race the freedom to choose. One can choose to live a wholesome and upright life with honor and respect for the will of God, or one can make the choice to live in violation of this God’s commands.
In contemplating the principle of free volition and the fact that the choice is everybody’s to do as he or she, pleases, my imagination yesterday conjured up a dramatic scenario involving a young boy with a blow-torch. Here is a theatrical ordeal:
Eric, a 25-year-old father of two was working in his garage, one Saturday morning, welding copper pipes for a large air-conditioning unit. His 4-year-old son, Ken, kept his company, seated on a low stool in the corner. His wife, Shiela, was constrained to an upstairs bedroom, nursing their one-year old daughter, Shan, who had been suffering from an irritating cold.
While welding, Eric was constantly being interrupted by the bawling and whining of his little son, who really wanted to work with the torch too. Of course, dad kept on pacifying him by advising him that it was a dangerous job and he could hurt himself with the flame from the blazing tool. “You are too small son,” his dad would say. “This is very hot, too hot for you to handle. You can’t work with this.”
Suddenly, Sheila made what seemed to be a rather frantic call: “Come Eric, come now, come quick!” “What happen?” he shouted. He quickly turned the torch to low flame, rested it on a moderately high shelf, and rushed through the kitchen door, sprinting up the stairs. In a moment, Ken realized that his dad had indeed gone. He had seen where he had rested the torch. The loud roar of its working blaze had given way to a silent “workshop”, and only a small blue flame was emitting from its tip. In a flash, an idea formed in Ken’s head. “It’s my turn now,” he told himself. “Let me get it.” He mounted up on the top of a red plastic jerry-can, and carefully grabbed the hose that led to the torch. Slowly he drew it to himself, until he could hold the weighty tool.
As he jumped down with the lit torch in hand, the jerry-can capsized, spilling a large quantity of gasoline all across the floor. Ken did not mind, he did not care, for at last he had the flaming torch. “C-c-c-c-c-h-h-h-h”, he jeered, pretending to be welding a metal plate on the wall. He tried to adjust the regulators as he would see his father do. He wanted to hear the powerful roar; he wanted to get a bigger, brighter flame. But while tampering, the torch tragically fell: “Booff!” Hitting the gasoline on the floor, the small flame instantly exploded into a massive inferno which rapidly engulfed the garage.
Just then, Eric rushed out to be startled by the disastrous screams of little Ken. “Ken! Ken! Where are you?” he called. “Fire! Fire,” he yelled with a panicking cry. The sound of his screeching child filled his heart with fright and dread. “Where are you, Ken? Where are you?” Soon Ken’s bitter wails grew fainter. Suddenly, Eric realized he was standing close to a fire extinguisher on the wall. In a rapid haste he shot a surge of Co2 foam at the base of the rising flame, but with little effect. The fire was growing. Black smoke filled the air.
Now joined by Sheila and the baby, the couple paced the lawn in fright and dismay. Cries of desperation filled the air as neighbors rushed to the scene. “My son! My son,” Eric mourned. The fire engine came in a hurry, and in a short time the fire was extinguished. But, it was too late for little Ken. His charred body laid lifeless on the garage floor.
Young Ken had made the wrong choice. He could have chosen to be safe. He could have reflected on his father’s warnings and he could have decided not even to touch that torch. But he fantasized that he was a welder, and ignored all the advice of a caring father.
Just as Ken was not born a welder, no one is ever born a homosexual. It is a conduct that is chosen; it is a behavior that is cultured. Like Ken, it is something that fierce violators of God’s warnings want to do. Yes, it is a matter of fantasy for an alternative lifestyle. And as far as God is concerned, He certainly will not be hoodwinked or tricked into accepting from America, or any other nation for that matter, that which He considers to be overtly abominable.
There was a time, in case some homos don’t know, when God poured down fire upon a particular city that had taken a similar route as gays do today. The city of Sodom, from which we get the words “sodomy” and “sodomize”, was a gay city steeped in the mire of homosexuality. Like Noah in the antediluvian world, Lot and his family were the only upright people in Sodom. The people there, especially the men, were bold and daring. They sexually challenged any man who came as a stranger to the city.
One night, God sent two angels to Lot’s house to warn him, his wife, and his daughters to urgently escape Sodom. He was about to destroy the corrupted place with fire. Upon seeing the messengers, a gang of vile men surrounded Lot’s house to hound the strangers inside. They raged with passionate lust in in their hearts for the visitors and, yes, their fantasies drove them to desire an “affair” with them. Mr. Lot, so accommodating and kind- hearted, went out into his yard to have a meeting with these wicked people. He stooped so low to offer them his two daughters for their satisfaction, but they would not be appeased.
Suddenly, one of the messengers ran from the house out into the yard. Grabbing Lot by the arm, he rushed back into the house with him, and securely shut the door. They were all safe inside, and finally the impervious gang left. But the next day, the angels escorted the Lot’s family out of Sodom and, like Eric’s garage, in no time the city was engulfed in a huge inferno destruction for those who wanted to be gay; the demise of those who thought they could twist the arm of God and have Him accept their pernicious lifestyles.
It is time that the supporters of gays in America realize that they cannot twist the arm of God. Yes, they can wrestle the “torch” out of his hand by their own choosing, but to play with it, this blow-torch, is to self-destruct. The old saying goes: “Can’t play with fire and not get burn”. Like poor ‘lil Ken, it is just a matter of time.
Those tenacious American founding fathers, who fought with faith and love for the good of their country, would be “rolling over in their graves” today if they only knew the decadence that has now rushed in to tragically demolish the civil, social and moral structures of the land they left behind. Word is now “out” that on Tuesday, April 2nd, U.S. Republican Senator Mark Kirk announced that he stands in support of gays. His endorsement of same-sex marriage and his defense of the gay community bring to 50 the number of senators who are now in favor of gay and lesbian lifestyles. There are 46 supporting democrats, two independents, and two republicans, with Kirk being one of them.
Senator Kirk, whose health had been recently affected by a stroke, had this to say: “When I climbed the capitol steps in January, I promised myself I would return to the Senate with an open mind and greater respect for others. Same-sex couples should have the right to civil marriage. Our time on this earth is limited, and I know that better than most. Life comes down to who you love and who loves you back — Government has no place in the middle.” In response, I’d have this to ask: “But where is God’s place, Mr. Kirk? Does He have one?”
Amazement! Intrigue! How could well-meaning respectable American men, including the President, change their minds on fundamental standards of right and wrong? Or, perhaps there are no absolutes on right or wrong any longer, since everyone has the right to swing to the center — the grey zone of permissibility. Sorry, not with God though. Hey! His standards never change.
The little boy with the blow torch is not a pleasant story. There is nothing “gay” and happy about imagining such a horrific incident. All those advocates of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and same-sex marriage rights need to realize that just as the sovereign God of this universe judged Sodom with unquenchable fire, they too ultimately stand in a precarious position. Unless they relent, like little Ken, it’s just a matter of time.
