Famous But Known

 One of the more interesting changes that has taken place in my life recently  requires a little of what my friend Danny Dileo would call "backstory".
  I have been involved in public ministry since  June of 1995. I  have preached on 3 continents, on both American coasts, and in various cities great and small. I've preached festivals, fairs, concerts, rodeos, and football games. I have preached in the rain and in the sun, to the hopeful , and to the hostile.  You get the idea.
 For whatever reason, public ministry tends to be the dividing line among Christians, at least in America.  You either do it, or you don't. You either love it, or you hate it.  I have watched as good decent respectable Christian folks disassociated themselves from me. I have watched local pastors pretend they don't see me. I've seen the hierarchy of the local Christian radio station walk past me like I'm not there.  I've been snubbed by professional 'evangelists'.   It's not just that they didn't agree with me, it's that they ignored me completely. I am the fly in the ointment, the ants at the picnic ruining  their comfortable non-confrontational Christianity. I am the invisible man; a guy everybody knows is there but nobody wants to acknowledge, and to be honest, that suits me just fine.  There's a reason I call this blog 'Outside the Camp', after all.

It wasn't just area churches that considered us 'the elephant in the room'.  I preached out of the same church, in the same town, on the same corner for roughly 12 years and it's obvious I was an embarrassment. There were people that prayed for us, and even a handful that accompanied us but overall it felt like it wasn't considered a ministry of the church, but rather just Michael doing 'that thing he does'.  Looking back, I remember the awkward silence that would fall over the room when I would announce an upcoming event. People would roll their eyes and some would sigh.  The pastor offered support in that he didn't forbid us to go, but he didn't go with us. We were allowed to use the church van the last couple of years, but that ministry was never given the high profile that the bus ministry or the latest camp meeting was given. Everybody knew we did it, but nobody ever mentioned it.  If we had stopped, nobody would have been terribly concerned and some people would have been glad. Once again, I am fine with that. I reveled in the challenge of  winning people over to public ministry, of pushing them outside their comfort zone for the glorification of Jesus Christ.  I did feel bad, and still do, for those that passed up the opportunities that were presented to them. Why would you let Darnel and I have all the fun?
  It is worth mentioning that most of the street preachers I know, (and I know a bunch of them) labor under conditions just like that or worse.  I know guys who aren't allowed to mention their ministry in church.  I know guys who are regularly discouraged or even sabotaged by their pastors. To the best of my knowledge, that has never happened to me, but for those other guys,  the Judgement Seat of Christ will be interesting.
  In  Jan 2015, we changed churches, and we continued on with our public ministry, simply out of a different church and in a different town. Our current pastor  preaches on the street with us and frankly, he gets vastly different treatment by the brethren. Oh sure, he's an embarrassment, but he's an embarrassment whose existence they feel like they have to acknowledge because of his position. He's known, at the pastors fellowships as 'the street preacher guy'. He's been invited on the radio to explain our ministry and been featured at different community events to present the work.  I am happy for him because I think he is an excellent representative of that ministry. I think he understands it, and gets the importance of it. I think in a very short time he has had open doors to shake up the community with the gospel of Jesus Christ and I am grateful for whatever help I've been able to offer. I do wonder though, how he has managed to avoid being invisible.
  I have a theory about this.  People sometimes assume that you preach on the streets because you don't have a pulpit.   That actually was the assumption from my  own mother, who couldn't for the life of her figure out why I delighted in such a thing. The idea apparently  is that you 'pay your dues' until you get a church and then you  are 'the man of God' extolling your wisdom from behind 'the sacred desk'. You are then relieved of your obligation to preach to the people who disagree with you.  So for a man who has a (sort-of) captive audience 3 times a week to preach for sinners for free is sort of a novelty among the 'men of God'  It's easy to dismiss some nobody with a banner on  a street corner; it's a bit harder to dismiss a pastor who does it.  Having the pastor involved lends credibility and gravity to it, at least according to my theory.
  Isn't that the silliest thing you've heard all day? I mean, if God commissioned the open-air preaching of the gospel ( Acts 20:20) and open-air preaching is employed throughout both Testaments ( Amos, Jonah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Paul, Barnabas, Peter, etc), and every believer is commissioned to use it (Mark 16) then why would it suddenly become a MORE legitimate thing because the pastor is doing it?

"So What About Ghosts?"

(Note: This is  a re-run. The ministry described here was cancelled due to 'the 'Rona' and never came back. The point still stands)

   For those of you unfamiliar with our ministry at the Salvation Army, it goes something like this. There is an inside eating area, and an outside eating area.  We hand them their food and while they eat, we preach to them. Some made it a point early on to go outside to get away from the preaching, and once we realized that, we stationed a man outside.  You may say that's harsh, that we are 'jamming it down  their throats', but I drive 30 miles one way to hand them a free meal, so it's not unreasonable that they listen, or at least endure.  There are plenty of places serving free food in Brunswick Ga on Friday nights that don't preach.  Besides, I think General Booth would approve.
  So on a typical Friday night after making sure everything was going well inside I took my usual position outside. I am the resident Preacher to the Hostile, and so I put my shoulder up against the brick wall and faced a scattering of people who for the most part don't want to hear me. I announced to the crowd that it was Friday night, and they  knew what that meant. I told them I was going to  ask the blessing on the food and then show them something out of the Bible.
  Seated almost directly in front of me , with her back to me, was a blond lady whom I later learned was named Laura. She spun around and said "Tell us about ghosts, man!" I told her I would be preaching the gospel to her. She said "No, man. I want to hear about ghosts." I assured her that, if she stuck around, when I was done, we would talk about ghosts.
  "You promise?"
  "I promise."
  She sat back down and I turned to Isaiah 53.  Several times during the next  5 or 10 minutes she leapt to her feet and would interrupt me to  ask me if I was almost done because she really wanted to hear about ghosts. When I either ignored her or told her to be patient, she would sit back down and begin talking to her friends.
  When I was finished she looked back at and dismissed her friends, sending one hopeful suitor to the  store to buy cigarettes. He was reluctant to leave, and she  fired a well-aimed salvo of obscenities at him and he wandered off muttering. She rolled her eyes at turned to me.
  "So what about ghosts?"
  "What about them?"
  She looked around to make sure she couldn't be overheard. "I've seen stuff."
 I shrugged. "Sure. So what?"
  She began to tear up a bit. She told me her husband had passed away recently and since his passing she had been plagued by a dark malevolent force of some kind.  She claimed she heard  voices late at night.
 "Ok. I believe you. So what?"
  "So what?"
  "Look, did you listen to anything I said during the preaching?"
  She looked  down a bit and said "No, not really.  But I'm just scared."
  "Scared of what?"
  "What's on the other side."
  "And yet you ignored the preaching." I asked her if she knew for sure that her sins were forgiven.  She went through the usual dodges ( nobody can know, I'm not that bad, we're all sinners) and I showed her from the scriptures how her sins were damning her and that if she expected to get past the judgement of God, she needed to exercise repentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.
  "Yeah, but what about ghosts? I mean, is my husband haunting me?"
  "Was your husband in the habit of scaring you when he was alive?"
  "No."
  "Then why assume that what you're  hearing is him?"
  Now it was her turn to shrug.
  "Ok, you want an answer, Laura? Here's what I tell everybody. Just because it says its your  grandfather doesn't mean it's your grandfather.  What you're probably dealing with is some sort of unclean spirit dedicated to keeping you distracted so that you ignore the gospel."
  " I don't want to hear that."
  "I appreciate that, but you asked me, I didn't ask you."
  We revisited the sin issue, but she wasn't interested. I talked to her about what Jesus Christ had done for her, but she kept wondering aloud where that guy was with her cigarettes, even adding "That #@$^@# had better not run off with my money.". I  pointed her to  scriptures about the judgment of God on her life, and how imperative it was that she avail herself of the only escape ; Jesus Christ.  we looked at Luke 16 and I showed her that here were only two destinations and you don't get the option to 'stick around' and haunt your loved ones.  By now she wouldn't even look at me.
  "Look, I appreciate you talking to me, and I'm sorry if I've been rude, but...I'm done" She got up to leave and told me she would maybe see me next week.  She said she knew thee was a verse in the Bible that said you cant know about  the afterlife, and she would show it to me when she found it.
  See, friends, this is what it is like to labor in the ministry.  We look men and women in the face and talk to them about their souls, and for the most part, their hearts have been so hardened and their eyes so darkened by sin that it is like talking to a brick wall. We plead, we reason, and for the most part, we see little of what  mot people would call 'results' or 'fruit'. We see people who have heard some variation of the gospel all their lives get up and wander off dead in trespasses and sins, the wrath of God still squarely on their shoulders.
  It's not glorious work, but at the same time, it IS glorious work. It is exciting work, it is challenging work, it is heart-rending work, often all at once.  It is  the greatest endeavor in which a man or woman can spend their days, and it never grows old.  If you are saved and you aren't doing the work, what's wrong with you?
 

Hanging With Elvis

Brunswick News

"Oh, oh the places you'll go!"- Dr. Suess

 I've said for years that a person who takes the gospel outside of the church walls  will encounter every slice of humanity. Do it long enough and you will encounter every social strata, every income level, every race and every creed. Once upon a time our adventures in publick ministry took us to a rather interesting  subculture of America as we found ourselves at the  Elvis Festival in Brunswick GA where otherwise rational people spend their leisure time disguised as the (probably) deceased singer.  It's sort of like Halloween except everybody is wearing the same costume.
  But our policy is to go where the crowd is and so we found ourselves on a very familiar corner while four separate Elvis impersonators belted out their best renditions at various points around us.  Just past the  throbbing PA system we preached to the crowds drifting from singer to singer.  As one impersonator would finish his set,  the next set of sideburns in the rotation would take up the mantle to a surprisingly large crowd of mostly older women. Since the number of Elvii (plural of Elvis, look it up) outnumbered the  number of singing spots, there were lot of free-floating impersonators, and some of them invariably sauntered past us.  We saw young Elvis and old Elvis. We saw an Elvis who was probably over 70, hunched over with age in a white jumpsuit and huge sunglasses.  We saw a Spanish Elvis, and we saw one Elvis with a belt so big I assumed he had stolen it from Hulk Hogan. We watched Elvis pick his nose. Truly the experiences offered by the ministry are staggering in scope.
   As far as crowds go, the Elvis fest crowd were remarkably friendly towards us.  At one point we wandered towards one of the concerts and Elvis belted out mid-song "God bless ya buddy!"with a jeweled finger thrust towards  my banner.  Another Elvis (it gets so confusing, I know) broke into his rendition of 'Amazing Grace' at the sight of us.  One Elvis wished me luck and another Elvis told me to keep up the good work.
 Having said all that, they weren't particularly more receptive to the gospel than any other group we regularly preach to; they were just more polite about it.  They weren't there to hear us, they were there to either pretend to be a dead guy from Memphis or they were there to listen to other people pretend to be a dead guy from Memphis.  It was more than a little surreal to see women in walkers and oxygen tanks  swoon and blush when  young Elvis would flirt with them.  It was equally surreal (but kind of impressive) to watch pot-bellied Elvis thrust his hips to a rendition of 'Sweet Caroline' without breaking something.
  Two quick hobby horses, if you don't mind.
  Often we in publick ministry are accused of being radical and perhaps that's true, at least by comparison. A common retort among the scorners is to tell us to "get a life".  They call us silly, and they call us foolish. They tell us we are wasting our time. Then some of them go climb into a sequined jumpsuit and sing "I Did It My Way" to strangers.  It's all in how you look at it, I suppose.  But I've found that most people are obsessed with something. I'm just obsessed about something worth being obsessed about.
  A man who only preaches to people inside a designated building who  already agree with him only lives half a life, as far as I'm concerned. Real life, and real adventure is found in taking the gospel to people who don't necessarily  want it. You never know where it will take you. You just might run into the man (or men) who would be King.

My Hero, My Partner

 

This is Mr. Darnel Robinson. Darnel  was saved on March the 5th of the year 2000 while a guest at the Camden County Jail in Woodbine Georgia.  He is in his mid 60's, and blind due to  complications from diabetes, and as you can see , he is easily the handsomest guy I know.
  Time would fail me to tell you of the adventures we've had. For the last 13 years or so, it has been my privilege and my honor to labor in the ministry with this man.  Together we have knocked on every door in his town at least once. We have preached on so many corners together and under so many circumstances. We have literally talked to thousands of people about their souls.   Despite his handicaps he is faithful and as true as any man can be. Out of everyone I have ever labored with, he has the best excuses not to labor, and yet he fights on.
  Since he is blind, he has to learn his Bible by listening to it on tape or CD.  He listens all the way through the Bible 3 or 4 times a year, and has vast passages memorized. In fact, it is absolutely embarrassing how much Bible he knows compared to me, and how his mind can jump from reference to reference.  He has a voice that can be heard for blocks, that I affectionately refer to as The Big Beautiful Black Man Voice.  He preaches without notes and can expound on scriptures like nobody I have ever seen, his thick black voice rolling out seemingly effortlessly with a "Da Bible do say..." Though technically I helped train him, he has surpassed me in everything I ever taught him. Darnel Robinson is the preacher I want to be when I grow up.
  Darnel and I know each other inside and out. It turns out, as you walk from house to house together, you find out a lot about a man. We have bore our hearts one to another. He knows things about me my wife doesn't know. He has seen me at my best, and at my worst. We have both labored when neither one of us wanted to. We have preached in the hot, and preached in the cold. We have preached in the rain. We have preached to the hopeful and to the hostile.  He has always been kind, and always tolerant of my foolishness. He has never rejoiced in my flaws. He has always given me way too much credit for what we do.
  Because of his various health issues, he has to live a very regimented life. He can't just get up and go, he has to plan. He has to think about what he is eating, and  when. Spontaneity or pushing himself too far could throw him into a  coma. I know, not because he's told me, that some of our late night expeditions in the ministry take a toll on him. I suspect it takes him days to recover. Yet he fights on.
  Recently he caught a cold, and it took him out of commission for a week or so. His blindness is almost complete now. Door knocking is nearly impossible for him. He is experiencing some heart palpitations, and is getting winded easily. I know the man inside and out. I know how he moves, and how he talks and how he thinks, and I know that my partner is slowing down.   This is the way of things, the way of life. We have discussed this, and the truth is we are all dying, just at different speeds. Neither one of us is getting any younger, and I know that, eventually, one of us will leave the other behind.
  Truth be told, I don't entirely know what my ministry will look like without my partner. I labored alone for a few years and God sent me a help, and his presence has helped shape the man I have become.  It has shaped my ministry more than I may even realize. Time will eventually separate us, and however  much longer we have, I know that for me, it won't be long enough.
  I suppose at this point I should come up with a moral to this story. I should probably say something about how you ought to do all you can for God while you can, and that's certainly true. I should probably exhort you to die with your boots on, and don't believe your own excuses. That's sound advice. I should remind you that Jesus Christ deserves your all, and he certainly does.
 Instead I will leave you with this; it's one thing to say 'let's all just work and labor and burn out for Jesus!'. It's another thing to watch it happen.

True Jews

  It seems to be all the rage to be a Hebrew in Christian circles and I must confess it  boggles me.

  Whether it's the replacement theology crowd or the black Hebrew folks or the Hebrew roots movement or any of a dozen other little factions,  everybody appears to want to be a part of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.  With clear  New Testament passages  referring to "a better covenant" built on "better promises" it really befuddles me why you would want to be  'Judaism 2.0' or the 'new Israel' or 'spiritual Jews'.  This goofiness continues to blow in like a Santa Anna  from the  desert, and   so again we tackle this issue from maybe a slightly different angle. I will do my best to not get bogged down , and if it seems like I am repeating myself it's because I am, having written several thousand words on this in the last few months (here,  here, here here, here, here, here, here, here and ummm... here ).
  Let's start with the basics.  1 Cor 10:32 says "Give none offence, neither to the Jews, nor to the Gentiles, nor to the church of God:"   There are 3 groups mentioned in that verse, and they are mentioned separately because they are not the same thing.   That's simple, right?  Romans 2:9-10 is written to one of those groups (the church at Rome), but mentions the other two groups, which still leaves us with three groups. They are treated as three different groups because they are three different groups, and only a man with either a motive or reading comprehension issues could  mix the two.
  A man is either born a physical descendant of Abraham Isaac and Jacob, or he is born the physical descendant of some other cluster of folks.  This other cluster of folks are Gentiles. The Bible has  quite a bit to say about Gentiles, and most of it is remarkably unflattering to those of us who were born under those conditions.  But the Bible is also  quite clear that when a lost Gentile  receives salvation he is "born again" of "incorruptible seed" and he moves from his natural birth, with its accompanying doom to a spiritual birth with "life and life more abundant".  He becomes "a new creature" with an "inheritance incorruptible and undefiled". The promises made to the saved Gentile are legion, and are worth their own study, but it is important to note that according to Ephesians 2 ( "Wherefore remember, that ye being in time past Gentiles in the flesh,...") if you are saved you are technically no longer a Gentile.  The part of you that matters is brand new. You may still be black, or Chinese or Portuguese, but the part of you that is those things has an appointment with a hole in the ground. Someday it will drop away and all that will be left will be the new man, created in Christ Jesus.
  God removes you from the group you were born into (Gentile ) and places you in a new group (the church of the living God). He performs the same operation  when an Hebrew accepts Christ.  As Ephesians 2:4 says , "For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us..".  God took people from two separate groups (Jew and Gentile) and united them in His Son into one group ( the church). Ethnically you may be a Jew, but if you are saved,  then spiritually you are part of the church.  Ethnically you may be a Gentile, but if you are saved then spiritually you are part of the church.
  Having said all that, who in the world then is this group in  Rev 2 and 3?  The passages in question is verses 8-10 of Rev 2; "And unto the angel of the church in Smyrna write; These things saith the first and the last, which was dead, and is alive;I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."
  Also in Revelation 3 we see these folks referenced;"And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write; These things saith he that is holy, he that is true, he that hath the key of David, he that openeth, and no man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth;I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name. Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee."

   In the passages at hand, there is nothing that says  the church is being harassed or attacked or persecuted by these false Jews, though that's a common teaching. All it says is that God is aware of their blasphemy and their lies, with a  prepared end to both. Now it very may well be that there was some confrontation there, but the passages doesn't actually say there was. So what's going on in these scriptures?
   Replacement theology postulates that there are true Jews and false Jews in the passage, with the true Jews being the church of the living God, and the false Jews being adherents of Judaism.  An interesting house of cards is built by appealing to Romans 2:28-29 , with Romans 12 either downplayed or woefully misunderstood. An embarrassingly rank handling of Galatians 6 is sometimes trotted out.   This theology is sometimes buttressed  by rabbit-trail diatribes about how either the modern-day descendants of Abraham Isaac and Jacob are impostors, or that they are so  wicked that God has forsaken them and cancelled all the promises he made to them. Follow the theology to its natural end and you wind up with saved Gentiles being assigned a tribe and occupying the land of Israel during the millennial reign of Christ as the only way to fulfill Old Testament promises.  To do so, the replacement advocate must ignore the specific nature and conditions of those verses, and cherry-pick their application.
 This is error, and it is error that leads to other errors. But it isn't sufficient just to say that the other guy is wrong, a reasonable explanation must be offered in its place, and so I submit to you an hypothesis which I think is not only consistent, but can actually be applied without punching a hole in the Old Testament.
 God gave to the descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob a religious system consisting of various ordinances, holy days, sacrifices, et al ( Romans 3:2).  This system was supposed to point them, both as a nation, and as individuals to Jesus Christ (Gal 3:24, Luke 24).  Depending on  the condition of his heart (Mark 4)  a man would have found himself in one of two groups.  One group's heart was prepared for the  appearance of Christ (Luke 2:25), and one group's heart was not ( Mark 11:18).  The first group are true Jews according to Romans 2:28-29, and they are not unique to  Jesus' generation. They may not have understood it all, but they knew something was coming, and when it arrived in their lifetime, they received it. The second group  heard the gospel and rejected it, so God rejected their religion. Paul says in Galatians that he had been part of the ‘Jews religion’ but wasn’t anymore.  That explains who that crowd in Rev 2 is. They are Christ–rejecting members of the Jews religion who are still claiming to have the inside scoop on God, never realizing God left them behind as individuals when they rejected His Son. By doing so they were committing blasphemy (1 John 2).
  Carrying the hypothesis forward, examples of both groups existed all over the ancient world ,  and not everyone who was part of the first group got a chance to meet Jesus Christ in person. Some of them were still waiting for the consolation of Israel even after the resurrection. News traveled a lot slower back then.  But when a person  showed up in their town or synagogue showing from the scriptures (Acts 18:19) what Christ had done, the first group wanted to hear more , and the second group wanted them to shut up (1 Thess 2:14). A true Jew didn't stay a Jew for long; upon salvation he became part of the church. This still happens,by the way. There are  descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob today that  have the gospel explained to them and receive Christ.  These true Jews remain ethnically Jews, but become part of the church spiritually.
  Now that leads us to an interesting impasse. If a Hebrew who accepts Christ leaves the exclusive promises of the Old Testament (land, health, prosperity, etc) and  finds himself under the  promises found in Christ, who gets the land, health and prosperity?  Well I have an explanation for that....

Animal Control Comes A Callin': An Exercise in Soft Tyranny

  For those of you who don't know, we live on multiple acres  on a dirt road in a very rural area.  Our town technically doesn't exist, and  all our mail is postmarked the next town over. We have a quasi-farm populated, from time to time, with chickens, and ducks, and wild rabbits, and dogs and a pony.   The pony, as you will see, is very important.
  Even though we live out in the middle of nowhere outside the city limits of anybody, we have a recurring problem; animal control.  The entire time we have lived there, animal control has taken an unusual interest in us. For example, we had a old beagle that would wander off the property and spend her days in the 25 acres of woods directly next to us.  Sometimes she would visit a family on the  far end of the woods who would hand-feed her chicken strips and corn chips.  This beagle was picked up by animal control, and we were hit with a charge of 'failure to restrain a viscous animal' and an almost $300 dollar fine.  Due to conflicting  schedules, and an inflexible court date, we paid the fine and six months later, that 'viscous animal' had died of old age.  Meanwhile, dogs run free among our sparse neighbors and as long as they aren't killing chickens or tearing stuff up, everybody else is content to live and let live. In fact, the desire to be left alone is what most of my neighbors all have in common.
 But, as I was saying..the pony.  The pony has proven to be quite the lighting rod for animal control over the last several years. Three or four times a year they would stop by unannounced by in the middle of the day, and conduct 'wellness checks' on our animals, especially the pony.  They would usually issue us a warning  concerning some perceived discrepancy but yet they have never had enough justification to go any further. For example, a few years back we were told that our pony was 'underweight' (without a vet being consulted or a scale being used) and that we had  just a few weeks to get him back up to his proper weight or further action would be taken.  This further action would include fines, court appearances, and  the seizure of said animal.  Over the next several weeks we changed absolutely nothing in how we treated this animal, and when the officer returned , the pony was pronounced to be greatly improved.  This scenario has played itself out 3 or 4 times in the last  3 or 4 years, and the end result is always the same; a warning and then no further legal action.  From a  a paperwork standpoint, it looks like animal control is really making us toe the line, but in reality, it is harassment and hasn't changed our actions in the slightest.
  Recently we had another visit from the newest AC officer who told us that someone in the neighborhood was 'concerned ' that the pony was, once again, underweight. In fact, this officer in particular seemed to know that he was specifically 50 lbs underweight.  The officer spoke to my wife and issued a warning, then asked to  see our dog. When we told her the beagle had passed on, the officer asked to see our new dog.  The officer examined our puppy and  proclaimed him to be the very picture of health.   Of course the officer did that AFTER my wife showed  the clean bill of health he had from the vet. A warning was issued for the horse and the officer left, promising to return.
  She did return, albeit while we were not home, and left a note on our door that simply said 'call me'.  My wife and daughter get distraught every time this happens, so I called the officer back and we had  a guarded  but pleasant conversation.  I elected to offer no new information, and she told me what I was doing wrong.  She said she had measured the  pony in our absence and , sure enough, he was about 50 lbs underweight. Keep in mind to do this she had to not only access our property in our absence, but had to enter the horses'  pen, which is chained shut. I was told I was 'under investigation' for neglect and the dire consequences were repeated. I instructed this officer that it was my preference that she deal directly with me and  limit her visits to when I was home, since the actions of her office were causing family distress.  Her 'recommendations' for the pony included exorbitant amounts of veterinary care in order to avoid neglect charges. I asked the officer, quite directly, how long we could expect her repeated intrusions onto our property and she said "as long as it takes" to close out the investigation and insure the pony's health.
  You may ask how is all this possible? How can an animal control officer just stomp around our property, and climb into our horse pen while we are gone?  Well, in my state, the  AC department is given carte blanche under state law. They can appear with or without a complaint , with or without probable cause.  They can write up anything they can see, including things not related to animal control which can then be forwarded to other agencies. Unless your property is completely fenced in with a padlocked gate, they can come in.  I spoke to several horse owners who had been harassed by the agency in our county, and rumor has it that previous officers had been relieved for seizing horses who were 'underweight'. The seized horses would be adopted by the officers as 'rescue animals' and eventually resold for a profit. One horse owner in particular had to not only  gate their entire property and padlock it at all times, but had to install a privacy fence since officers were making their reports from the roadside.
  So, just a few days after that phone call, we gave the pony away.  I don't know that we really had a choice. It was either live in  dread that a country truck could drop by at any moment, or relocate the animal to a good home with other  horses.  It really was a win-win for both parties and with one less lightning rod at our little farm, maybe  they will leave us alone.  Maybe.

The Scariest Song in the World

Among the  host of insipid holiday songs that are played on an endless loop in every public square until the listener slowly goes insane is a chipper little ditty called "Santa Claus is Coming to Town", whose lyrics go something like this:

You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

He's making a list
And checking it twice
Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice
Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!

O! You better watch out!
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town

 

Laying aside the soul-strangling tune that is no doubt bouncing around in your skull ( I apologize), lets just take a look at the words themselves. When we do, it becomes readily apparently that something hinky is going on at the North Pole.

  The very song itself begins with a warning as we are told "You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry". The listener is admonished to alter their behavior and alter it quickly. No matter what the  reason, no matter what the justification, a blanket clarion call against crying or pouting rings out!  The reason given is yet another grim warning ; "Santa Claus is coming to town".

  But why should the appearance of this ripe jolly old elf be of such concern for us? Why does the songwriter feel the need to  call out to us to straighten up our act?  The clue is laid in the very next verse; "He's making a list, and checking it twice." Old Chris Kringle apparently is intensely interested in the behavior of the citizens of the world to the point that he documents their behavior and  back-checks it for errors.  The next line is equally chilling ;"Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice".  The  CEO of the North Pole doesn't appear to already know  who is 'naughty or nice', and therefore has to "find out". It's more than a little disturbing that, while the  song hints at the existence of some sort of vast intelligence-gathering apparatus deployed by Old Saint Nick, we aren't given any insight as to the parameters of what makes somebody naughty or what makes somebody nice.  Much like the NSA, Santa monitors and documents, but holds the means and methods close to his vest.

  As if this affront to personal privacy wasn't enough, the next line peels the onion back another layer;  "He sees you when you're sleeping He knows when you're awake ".  Santa functions above even the  most grievous of police states. His jurisdiction is infinite, and his obsession with surveillance extends even to the sleeping hours of his hapless subjects. I mean, really, how naughty can you be while you're sound asleep , a brave soul might ask the unapproachable Claus.  It matters not.  There is no appeal from the naughty list, no oversight assigned to Father Christmas.

  Going line by line, the true nature of the song is revealed; the songwriter pleads with the listener to beware of the all-seeing, all-knowing  fat man in red. The listener is admonished to correct their behavior and to go from pouting and crying to "be good for goodness sake", which is itself an exasperated cry of hopelessness and impotence in the face of the  eye-in-the-sky onslaught from the North. It's not enough to be good for the good of society, or for personal accountability before God, but rather as the only way to avoid the naughty list and the ill-described wrath that follows.  You can't stop him. You can't reign him in. The police cannot help you. Locked doors and barred windows will not prevent his progress into your homes, into the very rooms of your children. Your best bet is just to be as good as you can and hope for the best. Keep your head down and ride it out till New Years.Perhaps this is the reason children are told to be asleep before he arrives. Perhaps, much like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, Santa's visual acuity is based on movement and a huddled child pretending to be asleep is sufficient for the  mysterious figure to come and go in peace.

  Just in case the repeated warnings were not enough, the songwriter takes it up a notch and  shouts "O! You better watch out!" As a parting shot, the  listener is reminded to  dry up their tears and tuck their bottom lip away because the worst nightmare for an insomniac crybaby is  on his way; "Santa Claus is coming to town".