Pestilence. War. Famine. Murder hornets.
Yes, murder hornets. Murder…freaking…hornets.
The year 2020 will be renowned for lots of things that plagued the world. It will, without a doubt, be a year that lives in infamy. Our grandchildren will absolutely, 100% ask us what it was like to be alive during this season of history …if the Ministry of Truth lets them anywhere near a textbook during our dystopian future.
Seriously, the list of plagues goes on and on.
The Great Coronavirus Panic of 2020 taught us the government has the power to make us cover our face, stay home from church, close our businesses, and neglect thanks-giving to God Almighty.
The election of Joe Biden taught us that massive voter fraud is an acceptable path to electoral victory.
The race riots of Summer 2020 that burned down our cities and commandeered whole neighborhoods by anarchists, toppled monuments, and terrorized our citizenry taught us that Cultural Marxism succeeded in its goals.
Those of us in the American West watched Antifa burn down our National Forests in what is perhaps the greatest coordinated act of terrorism since 9-11 (the media silenced the story), and taught us that the terror of the inner city will come to rural America.
And then there were the murder hornets, which taught us that even though the media can stretch a story (as well as silence legitimate ones), it can always get worse.
And finally, 2020 should go down as the Year of Censorship above and beyond anything else. It was the year that the Land of the Free was suppressed and our voices quieted by a Technocracy-sponsored censorship campaign that makes North Korea’s or China’s Internet muzzling policies look tame by comparison. The Year of Censorship taught us that we are not ruled by an oppressive government alone, but by private industry dedicated to globalist ideals. In short…we have been conquered.
Or mene, mene, tekel, uparsin, as the disembodied hand would write.
All the while, there are largely two classes of Christians. There is the first class of Christian who shrugs off the events of 2020 as just another year; these types – the Gospel Coalition variety – are even happy with certain developments like Trump’s defeat, media censorship, and government oppression. And there’s a second class of Christian (the authentic variety) with a Biblical worldview who see 2020 as a massive dumpster fire.
However, this second, better class of Christian might be tempted to view 2020 as the year random, chaotic, terrible events collided like matches and kerosene. Or perhaps it was some kind of spontaneous combustion, like what happens when manure and wet hay is put away in the barn.
In reality, 2020 is God screaming at the world to repent. The events of 2020, like all tragedies, are designed by a benevolent Creator who causes the world to groan in expectation (2 Corinthians 5:2) of something better.
What more do you need to know the Earth has a timer that’s running out than the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse converging upon Planet Earth at the same time?
Heck, yes. I’m saying we are living in the End Times. It is not near. It is here.
As we prepare for a world of mass drugging in the name of vaccination, draconian limits on our personal liberties, worship bans, and commerce restrictions, surely the eschatological nature of it all doesn’t escape us. We have a finite period of time left, and every spare minute should be spent (A) preparing our beans, bullets, and band-aids and (B) preaching the Truth of Scripture at the top of our bloody lungs.
Like Nehemiah’s wall-building exercise (PS, border walls were invented by God), we must have both hands busy in different tasks. We must make use of every spare minute of time because the minutes are indeed fleeting.
And most of all, Christians must learn to flourish amidst difficulty and feast during hard times. Work hard. Celebrate hard. Repeat.
A singular verse of Scripture has repeatedly brought me joy during the fecal-fest of 2020.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows (Psalm 23:5).
The verse came to mind as I sat down for breakfast in the only breakfast-serving restaurant in my sleepy Montana town. As my children and I settled in with our pancakes in the corner booth, a political nemesis was seated next to us. If looks could kill, we would have combusted into flames. But the day before, we just defeated the candidate for whom she served as campaign manager. And with God as my witness, pancakes never tasted so good.
Our church has thrived while others closed. My coasts have increased. Our blessings have abounded. And just because the rest of the world is aflame, doesn’t mean my world has to be on fire.
God protects his children, especially during times brought about by his own wrath. Might he protect us in 2021.
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