Don’t Let the Monkeys Get You Down

During my recent trip to the pit of ugliness known as South Florida, I spent a great deal of time in prayer. There wasn’t much else to do, because the stereo in my truck doesn’t work, and there were no human beings to talk to. It was convenient and helpful.

God showed me something interesting, so I will pass it on.

The Bible says faith is accounted unto us as righteousness. We find that remarkable, because faith and righteousness seem like two different things. Our understanding seems to be that faith is not righteousness, but God decided to credit it to us as righteousness for reasons of his own.

The truth is that faith is righteousness.

One of the unfortunate things about Christianity is that in our minds, we turn righteous people into bizarre, ghostly, sexless, pusillanimous creatures that float around with addled smiles on their faces. We see them as though they’re not human, as though they belonged to a different species, like angels.

Churches have shoved this notion down our throats for centuries. Look at the ridiculous things clergymen wear. The pope and many priests dress like women, wearing cassocks and robes other men wouldn’t dream of wearing. Many clergymen wear crazy getups with giant hats and satin bibs and so on. When the pope really gets his rig together, he resembles Liberace. Huge miter and so on.

Clergymen who dress up remind me of fictional superheroes. They work too hard to impress, and they don’t fit in with the rest of us. Imagine the Green Lantern trying to go to work at, say, Morgan Stanley, wearing his weird green suit.

Righteousness isn’t a bizarre theatrical act. It just means the state of being correct. If you are correct, you are righteous, even if you’re wearing coveralls and Red Wing boots. It’s amazing that we went from “correct” to full-throttle Elvis mode.

The phrase “politically correct” comes from the Antichrist. It means “politically righteous.” Politics is a thing of the flesh. To be politically correct is to be righteous through the flesh. The Bible makes it clear that we can’t please God through the flesh. Here is Romans 8:8, in case you think I’m mistaken: “So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God.”

The flesh is an animal–a “beast” in KJV terms–which is attached to us while we are stuck here on earth. This is why the Antichrist is called the Beast. He convinces people to try to attain righteousness without God, through their tiny, gullible minds.

Leftism comes from the spirit of antichrist. Leftists want to get God out of the way so they can create a righteous, civilized, harmonious world without God, using the power of the flesh.

It’s surprising that so many Christians think it’s okay to be a leftist, or even that Jesus was a leftist. The abolition of religion has been a top priority of the left, at least since the time of Karl Marx.

Think of the positions leftists take. They’re against the unborn. They’re against Israel. They’re against male leadership, which is a pillar of Judaism and Christianity. They’re against masculinity itself. They favor rebellion. They promote covetousness in the form of forced redistribution of wealth. You don’t have to be a genius to see it. They’re against God himself.

People continue to deny it, but one day soon, it will be admitted openly, not just by Christians but by leftists themselves. People will campaign openly against Jesus, naming him in the process. They will tell us we can have a world of love, peace and prosperity without God, and Satan will help them by giving them temporary success.

It was never about creating a peaceful, harmonious, prosperous world. The purpose of our existence is to please God. Look it up. The other things are by-products. Jesus himself said it. They will be added to us if we seek his kingdom and his righteousness–his correctness–first.

Even if we managed to create a seemingly perfect world without God, Jesus would return and destroy it, because it would separate people from him.

This world is like a courtoom, and human beings are the jury. Satan makes his case, and so does Jesus. What’s our primary job? To decide who is right. When we choose to believe Jesus is correct, we show faith. Faith is therefore correct. It is righteousness. It may not be all of righteousness, but it is righteousness.

I have never heard a preacher say these things, but now that God has shown them to me, I see that they’re very obvious.

When Biblical figures praise God, what do they say? A lot of the time, they tell God he’s righteous. They say it over and over. They’re showing their faith, which is righteousness. This is why God likes to be praised. It isn’t because he likes flattery. He has no pride. He can’t be flattered.

If you look at the Bible, you will see that it’s full of passages claiming God is right about this or that. “Lean not unto thine own understanding.” “There is a way that seems right to man, BUT…” “He will direct thy paths.” Look for it, and you’ll see it. Believing that God is right is very important.

Last month, God told me this: “Pride is incorrect.” Three days ago, he said, “Faith is correct.” In April, he said, “Worry is not correct.” Correctness matters.

Recently, he told me something that startled me. I asked him to tell me what my biggest problem was in my relationship with him, and the answer was “worry.” Not pride, lust, anger, covetousness, gluttony, laziness, or any of the usual suspects. I didn’t see it coming. My other iniquities are problems, but to God, worry is the primary issue right now. He told me it blocks his power in me!

If faith is righteous, worry is unrighteous. Worry tells you God is a liar.

He also told me he would show me how to defeat worry and get rid of it, so I am extremely thankful. Knowledge of my problems is a burden and a sentence unless I also receive solutions.

Faith is a big deal. It’s more important than working at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving or buying your church new pews. People often do things like that out of pride. Christians tend to be extremely proud of “good” works they do through the flesh.

You need to give faith priority, and worry needs to be on your hit list, just like pornography and greed. If you get rid of worry, it will cut the root of other iniquities that seem unconnected with it.

This is all surprising to me, but it’s true.

I’ve learned something else: I have to stop reviling myself.

I grew up with abuse. My dad was cruel, my sister was a narcissistic sociopath who lived to make me suffer, and even my mother tended to snap at me and make me feel rejected. Over time, I learned to internalize the abuse I received, so that even when I was alone, I heard it in my heart. Lacking any other abuser, I stood in for them and abused myself. I did their work for them so they could rest.

I knew this when I was of college age. It’s not a new revelation. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop the internalized abuse. I was rejected, and I rejected myself, over and over, every day. I knew about it, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t stop.

I also reviled other people. I got very good at crafting insults designed to cut deep. I thought it was okay. I thought I only went after the deserving. I didn’t question my right to do it.

Lately, I’ve been catching myself insulting myself. For example, I’ll put a pen down, and I’ll be unable to find it. Then I’ll ask God to show me where it is in spite of the fact that I’m “an idiot.” You can’t say things like that about yourself, even if you say them inwardly and you think you don’t really mean them.

How does God feel about me, calling his son an idiot? I’m extremely valuable. God allowed himself to be tortured to death so he could have me with him. Did he do all that so he could enjoy the company of an idiot?

Derek Prince taught me that shame is not part of God’s plan. It’s okay to feel ashamed briefly when a problem is exposed, but to live in a constant state of shame and rejection is sick and wrong. You should not shame yourself (or anyone else) chronically.

Here’s what I tell myself now: “I am no worse and no better than anyone else. I don’t care what they’ve done or what I’ve done. No one on earth is in a position to make me feel ashamed.” That’s true. You’re all filthy. Sorry to inform you. Some people have flaws or sins that are more obvious or disturbing that those others have, but it doesn’t matter. Jesus isn’t here in the flesh, and you’re just a forgiven spirit strapped to a dirty monkey, so get off your high horse. You poop just like the rest of us.

God is perfect. He is extremely good. In comparison to his righteousness, there isn’t a whole lot of difference between the moral states of Jeff Dahmer and Billy Graham. However low you are, God is waiting to lift you up, and no matter how much you think you’ve done for God, you are not significantly better than a pedophile.

Who is the world’s tallest midget? Who cares? Still a midget. The NBA won’t be contacting him any time soon.

I don’t call myself an idiot any more, even when I’m joking. I try not to let any human being make me feel ashamed. What a monkey thinks–even a respected monkey with many Twitter followers and lots of bananas–is not important.

You can see this concept reflected in the Bible. In a parable in Matthew 18, a ruler forgave a man who owed him billions of dollars. The man then imprisoned someone who owed him 100 days’ wages. The ruler withdrew his forgiveness. It shows that our debts to God are gigantic, but our sins toward each other down here are tiny in comparison.

Shaming ourselves and others excessively repels prospective Christians, and God will hold us accountable for that. Our purpose isn’t to screen out applicants for the kingdom of heaven.

I love receiving information from God. I would never figure it out on my own. As God has told me, it’s better to inherit than to earn.