If asked, most Christians would probably say that atheistic Darwinism is the most powerful threat to the faith these days, the goal being to create a godless world. At one time, I would have agreed. Having spent the last few years studying eschatology and the occult, however, I've come to see things differently. We've had the answer in front of us for 2000 years, and we can see the story unfolding behind today's headlines.
Atheism is not the enemy's goal; it's merely a tool in his hand, a weapon he is using alongside armed conflict, social calamity, and moral decay. With these things, he intends to destroy Christianity as the dominant worldview of the west, leading people to believe that Christianity has no answers, that the loving God of the Bible cannot possibly exist, that we are effectively on our own. Yet, he also knows that human beings possess a God-given spiritual sensitivity, an inner sense of morality and destiny, and an inherent longing for purpose and fulfillment. Atheism cannot provide these things. It may be able to weaken the faith of some (perhaps even most) in the western world, but it cannot replace that faith. It's a label on an empty philosophical bottle. It's cold. It has no answers. Someone once said that "Nothing is what rocks think about." If so, then atheism is the religion of rocks, for it offers nothing beyond its own premise; it's essentially a statement of (perceived) fact, nothing more.
What the enemy ultimately wants is for both atheism and Christianity to fail. In their place, he will substitute the worship of himself. The Bible predicted this long ago. It tells us that, in the last days, a composite religion will arise, led by a false prophet who will deceive multitudes with demonically-empowered miracles.
No, atheistic Darwinism is only a means, not the end. An atheistic world would not worship Lucifer, and that is what he wants above all things - worship.
Keep your eyes on the occult, and on the current efforts to unite the world's major religions - an effort centering on the city of Jerusalem and, likely, coming under the leadership of the Vatican. Luciferianism is the power at work behind the headlines, the "mystery of iniquity" to which the apostle Paul referred twenty centuries ago, the guiding hand behind every conflict and deception in the world today. It has many faces, manifests in many ways, but it has only one goal:
The enthronement of the "god of this age."
"Can God Forget?"Centuries of years have gone byThe land where we live is so dryOh, when will the Lord hear our cry?God give us this land or we die.
Can the rivers forget how to run?
Can a woman forget her own son?
Can the sun cease to set?
Yes, they can, but my God can't forget.
The land that we live in it sleeps
But somewhere a soul softly weeps
Oh, when will my God move His hand?
Or doesn't the Lord understand?
Can the rivers forget how to run?
Can a woman forget her own son?
Can the sun cease to set?
Yes, they can, but my God can't forget.
Lord, in Your Word we have read
That You can make life from the dead
Oh, why then have You not moved yet?
Can it be that my Lord could forget?
Can the rivers forget how to run?
Can a woman forget her own son?
Can the sun cease to set?
Yes, they can, but my God can't forget.
Children, how small is your faith?
Is My hand so short it can't save?
How can I forget even one
When I look on the hands of my Son?
Can the rivers forget how to run?
Can a woman forget her own son?
Can the sun cease to set?
Yes, they can, but my God can't forget.
- Len Magee
"Hell and destruction are never full; so the eyes of man are never satisfied." - Proverbs 27:20
"The White Ship" is a classic short story by H.P. Lovecraft, colorfully illustrating the biblical truth that fallen man is never truly satisfied. No matter how much he obtains by way of wordly goods, he is always convinced that true happiness lies just around the corner or by obtaining just a little more. Apart from his Creator, however, the search must always end in tragedy and loss.
***
I am Basil Elton, keeper of
the North Point light that my father and grandfather kept before me. Far from
the shore stands the grey lighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are seen
when the tide is low, but unseen when the tide is high. Past that beacon for a
century have swept the majestic barques of the seven seas. In the days of my
grandfather there were many; in the days of my father not so many; and now
there are so few that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as though I were the
last man on our planet.
Out of the South it was
that the White Ship used to come when the moon was full and high in the
heavens. Out of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently over the
sea. And whether the sea was rough or calm, and whether the wind was friendly
or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and
its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. One night I espied upon the
deck a man, bearded and robed, and he seemed to beckon me to embark for fair
unknown shores. Many times afterward I saw him under the full moon, and ever
did he beckon me.
Very brightly did the
moon shine on the night I answered the call, and I walked out over the waters
to the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. The man who had beckoned now spoke
a welcome to me in a soft language I seemed to know well, and the hours were filled
with soft songs of the oarsmen as we glided away into a mysterious South,
golden with the glow of that full, mellow moon.
And when the day dawned,
rosy and effulgent, I beheld the green shore of far lands, bright and
beautiful, and to me unknown. Up from the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure,
tree-studded, and shewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and
colonnades of strange temples. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded
man told me of that land, the Land of Zar, where dwell all the dreams and
thoughts of beauty that come to men once and then are forgotten. And when I
looked upon the terraces again I saw that what he said was true, for among the
sights before me were many things I had once seen through the mists beyond the
horizon and in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. There too were forms and
fantasies more splendid than any I had ever known; the visions of young poets
who died in want before the world could learn of what they had seen and
dreamed. But we did not set foot upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for it is
told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore.
As the White Ship sailed
silently away from the templed terraces of Zar, we beheld on the distant
horizon ahead the spires of a mighty city; and the bearded man said to me:
“This is Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, wherein reside all those
mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom.” And I looked again, at
closer range, and saw that the city was greater than any city I had known or
dreamed of before. Into the sky the spires of its temples reached, so that no
man might behold their peaks; and far back beyond the horizon stretched the
grim, grey walls, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous,
yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. I yearned mightily to
enter this fascinating yet repellent city, and besought the bearded man to land
me at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my
wish, saying: “Into Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed
but none returned. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are no longer
men, and the streets are white with the unburied bones of those who have looked
upon the eidolon Lathi, that reigns over the city.” So the White Ship sailed on
past the walls of Thalarion, and followed for many days a southward-flying
bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of which it had appeared.
Then came we to a
pleasant coast gay with blossoms of every hue, where as far inland as we could
see basked lovely groves and radiant arbours beneath a meridian sun. From
bowers beyond our view came bursts of song and snatches of lyric harmony,
interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I urged the rowers onward in
my eagerness to reach the scene. And the bearded man spoke no word, but watched
me as we approached the lily-lined shore. Suddenly a wind blowing from over the
flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. The wind
grew stronger, and the air was filled with the lethal, charnel odour of
plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. And as we sailed madly away
from that damnable coast the bearded man spoke at last, saying: “This is Xura,
the Land of Pleasures Unattained.”
So once more the White
Ship followed the bird of heaven, over warm blessed seas fanned by caressing,
aromatic breezes. Day after day and night after night did we sail, and when the
moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the oarsmen, sweet as on that
distant night when we sailed away from my far native land. And it was by
moonlight that we anchored at last in the harbour of Sona-Nyl, which is guarded
by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the sea and meet in a resplendent
arch. This is the Land of Fancy, and we walked to the verdant shore upon a
golden bridge of moonbeams.
In the Land of Sona-Nyl
there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and there I dwelt
for many aeons. Green are the groves and pastures, bright and fragrant the flowers,
blue and musical the streams, clear and cool the fountains, and stately and
gorgeous the temples, castles, and cities of Sona-Nyl. Of that land there is no
bound, for beyond each vista of beauty rises another more beautiful. Over the
countryside and amidst the splendour of cities rove at will the happy folk, of
whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. For the aeons
that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas
peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and where the white walks are bordered
with delicate blossoms. I climbed gentle hills from whose summits I could see
entrancing panoramas of loveliness, with steepled towns nestling in verdant
valleys, and with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the
infinitely distant horizon. And I viewed by moonlight the sparkling sea, the
crystal headlands, and the placid harbour wherein lay anchored the White Ship.
It was against the full
moon one night in the immemorial year of Tharp that I saw outlined the
beckoning form of the celestial bird, and felt the first stirrings of unrest.
Then I spoke with the bearded man, and told him of my new yearnings to depart
for remote Cathuria, which no man hath seen, but which all believe to lie
beyond the basalt pillars of the West. It is the Land of Hope, and in it shine
the perfect ideals of all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate.
But the bearded man said to me: “Beware of those perilous seas wherein men say
Cathuria lies. In Sona-Nyl there is no pain nor death, but who can tell what
lies beyond the basalt pillars of the West?” Natheless at the next full moon I
boarded the White Ship, and with the reluctant bearded man left the happy
harbour for untravelled seas.
And the bird of heaven
flew before, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the West, but this time
the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the full moon. In my mind I would often
picture the unknown Land of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, and
would wonder what new delights there awaited me. “Cathuria,” I would say to
myself, “is the abode of gods and the land of unnumbered cities of gold. Its
forests are of aloe and sandalwood, even as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and
among the trees flutter gay birds sweet with song. On the green and flowery
mountains of Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and
painted glories, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where
purl with ravishing music the scented waters that come from the grotto-born river
Narg. And the cities of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, and their
pavements also are of gold. In the gardens of these cities are strange orchids,
and perfumed lakes whose beds are of coral and amber. At night the streets and
the gardens are lit with gay lanthorns fashioned from the three-coloured shell
of the tortoise, and here resound the soft notes of the singer and the
lutanist. And the houses of the cities of Cathuria are all palaces, each built
over a fragrant canal bearing the waters of the sacred Narg. Of marble and
porphyry are the houses, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays
of the sun and enhances the splendour of the cities as blissful gods view them
from the distant peaks. Fairest of all is the palace of the great monarch
Dorieb, whom some say to be a demigod and others a god. High is the palace of
Dorieb, and many are the turrets of marble upon its walls. In its wide halls
many multitudes assemble, and here hang the trophies of the ages. And the roof
is of pure gold, set upon tall pillars of ruby and azure, and having such
carven figures of gods and heroes that he who looks up to those heights seems
to gaze upon the living Olympus. And the floor of the palace is of glass, under
which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the Narg, gay with gaudy fish not
known beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria.”
Thus would I speak to
myself of Cathuria, but ever would the bearded man warn me to turn back to the
happy shores of Sona-Nyl; for Sona-Nyl is known of men, while none hath ever
beheld Cathuria.
And on the thirty-first
day that we followed the bird, we beheld the basalt pillars of the West.
Shrouded in mist they were, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their
summits—which indeed some say reach even to the heavens. And the bearded man
again implored me to turn back, but I heeded him not; for from the mists beyond
the basalt pillars I fancied there came the notes of singer and lutanist;
sweeter than the sweetest songs of Sona-Nyl, and sounding mine own praises; the
praises of me, who had voyaged far under the full moon and dwelt in the Land of
Fancy.
So to the sound of melody
the White Ship sailed into the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the West. And
when the music ceased and the mist lifted, we beheld not the Land of Cathuria,
but a swift-rushing resistless sea, over which our helpless barque was borne
toward some unknown goal. Soon to our ears came the distant thunder of falling
waters, and to our eyes appeared on the far horizon ahead the titanic spray of
a monstrous cataract, wherein the oceans of the world drop down to abysmal
nothingness. Then did the bearded man say to me with tears on his cheek: “We
have rejected the beautiful Land of Sona-Nyl, which we may never behold again.
The gods are greater than men, and they have conquered.” And I closed my eyes
before the crash that I knew would come, shutting out the sight of the
celestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over the brink of the
torrent.
Out of that crash came
darkness, and I heard the shrieking of men and of things which were not men.
From the East tempestuous winds arose, and chilled me as I crouched on the slab
of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. Then as I heard another crash I
opened my eyes and beheld myself upon the platform of that lighthouse from
whence I had sailed so many aeons ago. In the darkness below there loomed the
vast blurred outlines of a vessel breaking up on the cruel rocks, and as I
glanced out over the waste I saw that the light had failed for the first time
since my grandfather had assumed its care.
And in the later watches
of the night, when I went within the tower, I saw on the wall a calendar which
still remained as when I had left it at the hour I sailed away. With the dawn I
descended the tower and looked for wreckage upon the rocks, but what I found
was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the azure sky, and a
single shattered spar, of a whiteness greater than that of the wave-tips or of
the mountain snow.
And thereafter the ocean
told me its secrets no more; and though many times since has the moon shone
full and high in the heavens, the White Ship from the South came never again.
- written by H.P. Lovecraft, 1919
The ship photo was found at retrorpg.wordpress.com, and had no copyright information attached.
"Oh
that there were one among you who would shut the gates, that you might
not uselessly kindle fire on My altar! I am not pleased with you," says
the LORD of hosts, "nor will I accept an offering from you." - Malachi
1:10
"Then the Lord said, Because this people draw near with their words And honor Me with their lip service, But they remove their hearts far from Me, And their reverence for Me consists of tradition learned by rote,
Therefore behold, I will once again deal marvelously with this people, wondrously marvelous; And the wisdom of their wise men will perish, And the discernment of their discerning men will be concealed.” - Isaiah 29:13-14
Back during the 2012 election season (which, thank God, has passed), there was something of a firestorm amongst conservatives when the Democratic Party initially refused to mention God in its platform. More recently, I saw similar outrage being directed at the president for his
failure to include any mention of God in his Thanksgiving address,
apparently for the fourth year in a row. And while I understand the good intentions of those who wish to see God
acknowledged in such venues, I think we're missing a larger issue in
all of this outrage.
Scriptures such as those I've cited above make it
clear that God is not interested in "lip service" or habitual, cursory
acknowledgment. Witness how that, in Isaiah's day, He actually said that
He would rather have had someone lock the temple altogether than for
"useless fires" to be continually lit on His altar. He didn't care that
the people acknowledged Him, because their acknowledgements were effectively empty;
they had no interest in obeying His Word or cultivating their
relationship with Him. They were following religious traditions that
really meant nothing to them personally, and they showed this by pursuing their own desires and ignoring God in every other aspect of their lives, to the point where He finally brought judgment against them.
In light of this, what
do we really gain when a party that would rather not acknowledge God at
all is shamed into doing so by bad publicity (or, for that matter, when
a party that is proud to acknowledge God in its platform implements policies that are contrary to His Word)? What would we
gain if a president who has publicly stated that the Sermon on the Mount
cannot be taken seriously were to acknowledge God verbally in a public
address out of political expediency? Are these not more "useless fires"?
Perhaps it could
be argued that such mentions "keep God in the public consciousness".
Maybe. But then we would have to ask ourselves what is meant by "God".
After all, the word is a title, not a proper name. It's a simple reference to a supreme being,
and what concept of divinity is meant by it depends upon the point of
view of the speaker. Thus, while public mentions of "God" may identify
us as a religious people, they do not necessarily indicate that we are a
Christian people or that we take the obligation to follow Christ seriously. Our behavior says much more about us than our words, certainly in the eyes of non-Christians, who are quick to note hypocrisy in the church. They expect more of us than what they see in the world around them, and, quite frankly, they have every right to. God Himself expects more of us (Romans 12:2; Ephesians 2:1-3).
In the end, these arguments about public mentions of God, as they currently stand, are much ado
about nothing. Unless they indicate a desire to know and follow the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, as He has prescribed (namely, by becoming disciples of the Lord Jesus), we gain nothing from them except for a deceptive sugar-coating that may make us look good and feel religious, but ultimately insults the One we think we are honoring.
- Scriptures quoted are from the New American Standard Bible
- Image courtesy of http://www.desktopwallpaperhd.net/emptiness-wallpaper-house-paper-aziointelli-art-67438.html
