Ben Zeisloft

Climate Cultism and the Providence of God

Christians, standing on the firm foundation of Scripture, can freely assert in the face of climate cultism that Mother Earth is no deity at all, but is merely the footstool of the Father. We need not fear the several false deities and emergent mystery cults in our idolatrous land; we need only fear the God who creates and sustains us, who offers us salvation through the blood of Jesus Christ, and who will one day call us into account for our deeds in his world.

The headlines of the Western world have for several years been rife with tidings of impending climate doom. In the last week alone, media jeremiads have reliably informed the public that there exists an extinction date for all mammals in some quarter-billion years, and that climate change has started to generate stronger hurricanes much earlier in the summer.
The evidences that climate alarmism has become a religious cult are manifest, with Gaia joining the ranks of Molech and Ishtar in the perverse pantheon of our American empire. Take, for example, how a recent Apple advertisement featured Mother Earth, played by a matronly yet stern Octavia Spencer, and her demands that Tim Cook and other executives hold themselves accountable for various corporate sustainability benchmarks. Rather than facing judgment before the resurrected Christ seated on the throne of heaven, these executives provided an account of their deeds before a portly black woman seated at the head of a boardroom table.
Beyond this unintentionally laughable knockoff of Christian eschatology, the climate cult has gained ground in the public square: legal nonprofits are now seeking the recognition of a legal “right” to a clean climate, while teenagers driven by climate anxiety are taking vows to save the environment by no longer bearing children. One investment note even concluded that the “movement to not have children owing to fears over climate change is growing and impacting fertility rates quicker than any preceding trend in the field of fertility decline.” The litany of new paganism must always coalesce. The Center for American Progress wants you to know that “climate justice” and LGBTQ “rights” are inseparable. Both must be supported, of course, and to support one is to support the other. Climate idolatry, then, imports the entire apparatus of regime theology.
These confessors of the climate cult, though they would never describe their actions in such terms, are prophets of Baal who “cut themselves after their custom with swords and lances” (1 Kings 18:28). As with all false worship, those who hate the wisdom of God “love death” (Proverbs 8:36), and “like smoke they vanish away” (Psalm 37:20) by means of their folly.
Never to miss an opportunity for false worship, however, the National Association of Evangelicals likewise declared last year that they wished to address the matter of climate change and “love the least of these” by calling for legislation to regulate greenhouse gas emissions. Yet this august assembly has never issued a meaningful statement on child genital mutilation or any other blood sacrament which the aforementioned pantheon holds dear. The priorities of NAE are clear, and they are in lockstep with approved opinion.
The assertions of the climate cult and their professing Christian sycophants, beyond their obvious absurdity, most fundamentally contradict the truth of divine providence, by which the Triune God sovereignly governs his creatures and the creation in which he placed them.
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Which Way, Christian Man?

Trees are judged by their fruit. The first tree bears the fruit of a Christianity which taught its adherents for decades to become all things to all people, even to the point of absurdity: in this case, dressing as a cartoon character for comic relief and preaching from a children’s movie. The second tree bears the fruit of a Christianity which teaches its adherents to count the cost of discipleship, to joyfully embrace the hard truths of the faith, and to pursue godly masculinity to protect the weak and to slay the dragons in the land.

Two men went viral last week within Christian and conservative social media circles.
The first man was Andy Wood, the lead pastor of Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California. His virality came after he appeared last Sunday morning alongside his wife and fellow pastrix, Stacie Wood, the former dressed as Woody and the latter dressed as Bo Peep from the Toy Story franchise. Stacie patted her husband on the shoulder and thanked him for “being a very good sport about this,” proving who carried the lasso in the relationship as Andy gazed sheepishly at his audience.
Like many other megachurches across the nation, Saddleback Church is in the midst of a “Summer At the Movies” sermon series, in which the congregation’s pastors exegete blockbuster Hollywood films instead of the authoritative and sufficient Scriptures. Andy Wood fed his flock on Sunday, for example, with the eternal wisdom found in Toy Story 4.
“In terms that make sense only to Forky, Woody helps Forky finally understand his purpose as Bonnie’s toy,” he explained. “No matter how we might feel or see ourselves, God sees us as his invaluable treasure set apart for his amazing purposes.”
The second man was Marcus Schroeder, a member of Mercy Seat Christian Church in Brookfield, Wisconsin. His virality was due to his arrest last Saturday at a public drag queen performance targeted at children, where the young man chose to read the Bible with noise amplification and immediately felt the full force of the law. Video of police officers yanking a microphone out of his hands and marching him away in handcuffs, even as homosexual men twerked for small children only a few dozen yards away, garnered millions of views.
Marcus said in an interview with me at The Republic Sentinel that his arrest was more than worthwhile and would only serve to provoke him and his friends, many of whom likewise faced arrest and detainment, toward further boldness for the gospel.
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Why Generation Z is Drawn to Roman Catholicism

Members of Generation Z who desire a sense of transcendence in their worship may simply need to look a bit harder. By fostering a dogmatic commitment to the authority and sufficiency of Scripture while retaining a deep respect for church history, much of evangelical, conservative, Reformed Christianity has managed to guard itself from the spirit of the age. Young people should by no means compromise on the true gospel (Galatians 1:8-9) to find a tradition that has retained its sense of reverence.

Polls consistently show that members of Generation Z—loosely defined as the cohort born between 1999 and 2015—are far less religious than their parents and grandparents. Young Americans are twice as likely to identify themselves as atheists in comparison to other adults, while a mere 59% identify themselves with some form of Christianity—a significant decline from the 75% of Baby Boomers who say the same.
Surveys also find that members of Generation Z are more socially progressive than other Americans, with as many as one in five identifying themselves as “LGBTQ.” Although some young people certainly attempt to blend the doctrines of biblical Christianity with the falsehoods of modern leftism, there is a remnant drawn to conservative religious traditions with weightiness and transcendence—which may even claim to uniquely feed the soul in a relentlessly materialistic era.
Talk to members of Generation Z who grew up in loosely evangelical households and you will discover that many have since turned to Roman Catholicism rather than the generic version of megachurch Christianity. The ornate architecture of cathedrals, the advent of the Latin Mass, and the otherworldly nature of chants are, to many young people, a departure from the emptiness of the modern age.
Take, for example, actor Shia LaBeouf, who recently made headlines for converting to Roman Catholicism. In an interview with Bishop Robert Barron, he explained that “Latin Mass affects me deeply.” When asked why, he said: “Because it feels like they’re not selling me a car.”
Big-box evangelicalism, on the other hand, is by no means transcendent. Pastors and worship leaders often find themselves limping and thrashing about their altars (1 Kings 18:26) with moralistic, therapeutic sermons and emotionalistic, shallow music. As LaBeouf correctly diagnosed, many evangelical churches merely make attempts at “selling Jesus” to their members. In the words of Pastor Rick Warren, you can simply give Jesus “a sixty-day trial” or get your money back—a tactic that is quite literally taken from car salesmen.
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