The Roman Catholic Church

This video shows what I’ve long suspected about the Roman Catholic Church.

I learned the rosary. I bought beads. I’ve asked others to pray it for me when I was weak and couldn’t pray.

Certainly, things got better, but I don’t attribute that to Mary or any saints. It was their faith and mine, and God’s mercy to grant me protection.

There is nothing in the Bible about beads, praying to Mary, making saints of dead men and women. If you look at the church, everyone in the clergy has fancy clothes and robes. They light candles in silver and gold holders, also called candlesticks. The candles are called tapers. Fine marble and tapestries, old paintings, and adornments of a wide variety are all in Rome. Paintings are venerated. Like a saint.

But I never felt right saying Hail Marys; it just felt wrong. I was told that it’s not a prayer to Mary but a plea for her divine intervention. Which is, of course, a prayer to Mary.

Praying to angels, like Saint Michael, is forbidden. And since when did a puny human have the right to venerate an angel, anyway? That’s really quite arrogant, and it is a sin.

We’re not to talk to angels. Not in prayer. And we wouldn’t know it if one appeared to us. Even if they told us what they are, would we believe? I think not. Humans today are too jaded.

We believe lies, and we reject the truth. We love lies, don’t we? And we hate the truth; it makes us face things we don’t want to face. Hear enough lies, you’ll believe them, tell enough lies, people will believe you. How pathetic is mankind?

God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son so that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.

That’s it. There is nothing else.

You can’t get to Heaven by confessing your sins to a man in a booth and then saying a bunch of hail Marys. What’s that do? Nothing.

It is what is in your heart that saves you. Believing that your sins were canceled out at the place of crucifixion and that Jesus died by taking your death penalty for sin (for the wages of sin is death), that is what saves you. You can pray to Him or the Lord. Those are the only ones you are allowed to pray to. A dead woman, no matter how holy, can’t hear you, and even if she could, and responded, she would tell you to stop.

Icons litter the Cathedral of Rome. The trappings of wealth are everywhere, useless, worth money on Earth, but meaning nothing in Heaven. God sees it all now, and things of this world probably anger him. There is no point. There’s nothing in there that can save, heal, or feed anyone. Remember what Jesus told the rich man who wanted to follow him? Go and sell all that you have, give everything to the poor, and come, follow me.

Things, possessions, and money. They mean nothing to the Lord. In fact, the above quote clearly shows us that we can’t get to Heaven with our eyes still set on things, our minds being covetous and our materialism on full, unashamed display. Show me where it says that the church had to look like the temple in Jerusalem. The Bible describes both as being wonders to look at, but they were run by corrupt men. How about what Jesus said when this happened?

Matthew 23:

23 Then spake Jesus to the multitude, and to his disciples,

Saying The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat:

All therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works: for they say, and do not.

For they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.

But all their works they do for to be seen of men: they make broad their phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of their garments,

And love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues,

And greetings in the markets, and to be called of men, Rabbi, Rabbi.

But be not ye called Rabbi: for one is your Master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren.

And call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father, which is in heaven.

10 Neither be ye called masters: for one is your Master, even Christ.

11 But he that is greatest among you shall be your servant.

12 And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.

13 But woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer ye them that are entering to go in.

14 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows’ houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation.

15 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves.

16 Woe unto you, ye blind guides, which say, Whosoever shall swear by the temple, it is nothing; but whosoever shall swear by the gold of the temple, he is a debtor!

17 Ye fools and blind: for whether is greater, the gold, or the temple that sanctifieth the gold?And, Whosoever shall swear by the altar, it is nothing; but whosoever sweareth by the gift that is upon it, he is guilty.

19 Ye fools and blind: for whether is greater, the gift, or the altar that sanctifieth the gift?

20 Whoso therefore shall swear by the altar, sweareth by it, and by all things thereon.

21 And whoso shall swear by the temple, sweareth by it, and by him that dwelleth therein.

22 And he that shall swear by heaven, sweareth by the throne of God, and by him that sitteth thereon.

23 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.

24 Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel.

25 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess.

26 Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first that which is within the cup and platter, that the outside of them may be clean also.

27 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and of all uncleanness.

28 Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.

29 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! because ye build the tombs of the prophets, and garnish the sepulchres of the righteous,

30 And say, If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets.

31 Wherefore ye be witnesses unto yourselves, that ye are the children of them which killed the prophets.

38 Behold, your house is left unto you desolate.

Conclusions:

Beware the trappings of any church, adorned with all manner of finery. You will not find the true Gospel there. There, you will find beauty but also false and even hollow doctrine.

I know Catholic charities are a real thing. If they really wanted to help, then they could sell their art and gold to museums rather than keeping so much hidden. The money could go to housing the homeless, clothing the poor and feeding them, inoculations, medical care, and preaching the true gospels instead of apostasy or false doctrine. There is no reason for me to desire to join a Catholic church. I want a church that is led by true believers who truly walk in the footprints of Jesus Christ. All others will be not only judged on what they did in life but what they failed to do. We can not enter the kingdom by good works. We simply need faith. That means true repentance, not saying ten Hail Marys and thinking we’re done. Hate your sins and walk the walk. Give selflessly and don’t look back. Pray as much as you can and as much as you want to. The Lord is never too busy to listen.

Good night, brothers and sisters, and may God bless.

Here’s something to REALLY scare you and something really quiet to help you deal with it.

There are so many videos on YouTube about the end times that they’re impossible to miss.

Granted, some are nothing more than a bowl of lies.

Others make you think about it. But with the warning that the time of the return of the Son of Man is known only to God, and of that time and day, we are not to speculate, let’s dip into it just a little bit.

First, there’s this article from The Hill about how dangerous AI has become. It is quite a read. Everyone should read it; it’s scary, but unfortunately, it’s true.

Next, let’s hit the scripture. Daniel, Psalms, Isaiah, the Gospels, and the Book of Revelation to John all say what will happen just before, then during, the return of Christ.

I’m not going to itemize chapter and verse.

As I’ve often written, all of the ingredients are in place. The four horsemen may be currently releasing one at a time… or all at once.

The first horseman has a nature always in debate. He is wearing a crown, and he goes forth conquering and to conquer. Some have said he is the Antichrist, others that he beats whole countries into submission with lies and other types of deception. See where deepfakes now become part of that possible identity? I don’t believe that this is the Antichrist, but it is possible. He will be the embodiment of evil, and Satan, as Jesus said, is the father of all lies. The first horse is white, the rider carrying a bow. Do not confuse this with the white horse that will be ridden by the returning Christ.

It’s okay to guess, but remember that there are three more with him.

The second horse is red. He that rides this horse carries a battle sword. He goes forth after the second seal is broken by the Lamb (Jesus). This rider looks battle-hardened and tough. He will bring war and make already hostile internal conflicts in certain countries worse, bringing the Earth to disaster and death.

The third horseman rides a black horse. He is the only one John hears receiving orders. Wheat and barley measured by a scale the rider carries, a quart, and 3 quarts each, respectively, for a day’s pay. He is also cautioned by the voice not to harm the oil and the wine. The oil is not petroleum. This would be an oil associated with food or food preparation; remember that this rider appears wan and starving, very thin. This oil could be olive oil because grapes and olive trees can adapt to growth in places they did not before. Global warming has already caused vineyards to stop producing, and vines are being planted in places they wouldn’t have survived before. The idea that wine and oil are not to be touched by the bringer of global famine seems trivial until you consider that there will be widespread unemployment and a failure of wages to keep up with the cost of living. These things are already happening, and they will only get worse. The tipping point for global warming has been passed, and anyone who tells you otherwise is badly deluded. We haven’t seen anything yet.

Oil could also symbolize water, strangely enough. At the rate we’re going, potable water will be scarce. Heat will drain reservoirs, and rain will become more toxic. Microplastics have been detected in the drinking water of every state tested; they’re found in blood samples and in organs, including the brain. Not only that, but lead, arsenic, and other “forever chemicals” are also present. There are currently no filters capable of rendering pure water.

The fourth horseman is the most terrifying of all. Covid was bad enough; this rider, on a pale horse, has a name: Death. Along with him, trailing behind is Hades. Not the Greek god, but literally, “the Pit.” A place only unbelievers can go.

Most scholars believe that the true Christians will not be here when Death arrives, that a “rapture” will occur when the faithful will be taken up to Heaven. Pentecostals believe this because they posit that the Holy Spirit can’t be present when these calamities begin. I tend to agree, but I’m unwilling to bet my soul on it. I want you to be ready now because even tomorrow isn’t guaranteed to any of us. Besides, would you really want to see these things happen, sure that you can keep sinning and repent at the last minute? I pity anyone who thinks that’s possible. It isn’t.

The rider named Death has orders to kill by war, pestilence and wild animals desperate to eat, driven mad or bold by heat, starvation, and lack of water. Some would be driven more savage by the spread of rabies.

Pestilence means disease and a proliferation of invasive predator insects thriving in elevated heat. Forget insecticides and fungicides; they can’t stop what’s coming.

Some diseases, rare in the West, like ebola, will easily live in the higher temperatures we’re about to reach. Don’t be tempted: no source that I consider reliable can tell us when the temperatures reach the breaking point. First, I read an article that says global warming is accelerating and much faster than anticipated. Then I come across an article that says it’s slower than they thought. The layperson doesn’t know what to believe. I have a rule about this. Believe that terrible things are happening right now, and far worse is yet to come. Forget choosing which ones are right; live each day as if it is your last. Walk with God, pray often, resist temptation, and stay alert. Urge others to take the opportunity to believe in Christ and turn away from sin because time really could be running out. I believe it is. I urge you not to bet your soul on having time enough to sin now and turn later to Christ.

When the events of the end times continue after the first four seals are broken, people will know what’s happening. The whole world will be shaken, like one big earthquake everywhere at the same time. By then, they should already know, but they’re going to be stubborn. They will be full of hate at God. They’ll try to escape falling buildings to caves and beg rocks to fall on them because the terrible judgment of God is coming. But they won’t talk to God and beg forgiveness. They’ll talk to rocks. How pitiful those souls are. God, however, will not have any pity for them. They had their chance and more and turned away from God. That’s earning them eternal punishment. Eternity in agony.

I’m telling you, God doesn’t want that for you. There’s time. You can still be saved by the sacrifice that has already been made for your salvation. You’ll be free of sin and gain peace in your heart and mind that you have never known. The ransom has already been paid.

Please don’t waste that.

I’m not a preacher. I’m uneducated. I’m poor. I make no money from ads you may see here. I don’t seek sponsors, and I don’t care about money. I’m simply putting out the distress signal that trouble is coming, and I don’t want you to miss the call to repent. You must forgive what can’t be forgotten. You must let go of hate, anger, and bitterness. Stop blaming others for your every tribulation. Let go of lust and the sins of the flesh. None of these things have ever truly benefited you. They just drag you down deeper into darkness, and I’ve seen that darkness. I never want to see it again. And you shouldn’t either.

This is the time. Repent, because you may never get another chance.

May you be moved by the Holy Spirit, and may Jesus Christ come into your heart. I’m praying for you.

Wasn’t that lovely?

My friend, my brother, my sister,

I know you’re hurting. I have, too. I still do.

I know you are lonely. I used to be.

I know you feel like this is all so pointless. Hopeless. I’ve been there.

I know you’ve known great loss. So have I. I feel your grief.

I know you feel lost. You need a direction. I’ve spent most of my life lost in the dark.

I know that you are tired. Tired of everything. I have carried that burden. This is your time to find rest and hope, a new direction, a way to escape bitterness and anger and hatred. And this is your time to be renewed, to let go of your burdens and emotional things that drag you down. Here are the lyrics to the beautiful song I’ve posted above. I’ve known people who cried before they could get through these words. But that’s not because they’re sad. It’s a touching call to you from Jesus. He wants to be in your life. He doesn’t like seeing you hurting and trying to get through everything by yourself when He can help if you just answer this call.

Lyrics:

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling for you and for me
See on the portals He’s waiting and watching
Watching for you and for me

Come home, come home
Ye who are weary come home
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling, “O sinner come home”

O for the wonderful love He has promised
Promised for you and for me
Though we have sinned He has mercy and pardon
Pardon for you and for me

Come home, come home
Ye who are weary come home
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling, “O sinner come home”

Come home, come home (come home)
Ye who are weary come home
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling
Calling, “O sinner come home”

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Will L. Thompson

Softly and Tenderly lyrics © Bluewater Music Corp., BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

May God bless you.

Comments are Now Turned On. I Welcome Your Feedback! Here’s My First Video.

I know that I have said that I wouldn’t make any videos, and I said that I had a face for radio but a voice for writing. I hated everything about myself then. I know I got that across.

But after Easter, I have been through continuing changes. My blog and website title has changed, even though I don’t have the power to change the web address.

Like my archived posts, I’m leaving it as it is. I want you to see the change in me. It’s real. Every day I thank God for another day and ask if there might be a way for me to help people. Because it’s easy to backslide into feeling useless and ineffective.

So, with a face for video and a voice for writing, I felt inspired to make a short video without a script, without notes, just winging it. It comes from my heart, it’s the real me, and I have to say that I felt not just inspired but also compelled to do it. I had faith that God would help me.

So here it is. If you feel so moved, give it a like or subscribe. If I get any positive feedback, I’ll do more. Please note that I’m not trained or educated in preaching, and I’m really just a sinner. Here you go then.

Joy

There is no other word. I doubt that I can ever put into words this change in me. I used to write about darkness and being a child of the night, being comfortable in the dark.

That’s gone.

In the Bible, darkness is not something to be comfortable with. Back in the first century A.D. as well as before and after, not many dared to travel by night. It was so unsafe that people were sure to be robbed, beaten, raped or killed. Thieves ran cold camps near roads and always had someone on watch. Lying in wait.

Even a half hour past dark, they were ready. That was the best time to catch people close to a village or city, on their way in, refusing to stop at an inn or make camp because they were sure they would make it safely before total darkness.

Even today, in more places than we know, being out after nightfall is like asking for something bad to happen.

When I drove an 18-wheeler, I had to make a run from Baltimore to Brooklyn, New York. I arrived at lunchtime, and the dock master said he would finish the trailer in the bay as soon as lunch break was over, then he’d get me.

I joked that I was paid by the hour so he could take his time. He said, “No, man, this is New York. You gotta be outta here before dark.”

That street, he said, was owned by a gang at night. It wasn’t safe. Even he and everyone in the sweatshop were gone before dark. If a sweatshop shuts down at nightfall, you know the area is not a good place to be.

I made it, but it was dark by the time I hit the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. I felt like I had escaped from my early demise. When I cleared the Delaware state line, I still had traffic and a long drive to get home, but my white knuckles relaxed. I could finally wipe the sweat from my palms.

They say there’s no place left in the lower 48 that isn’t affected by light pollution, but I’ve been to some places where that’s not true at all. Those are places I never want to see again. So dark that a person two feet in front of me became invisible. That’s scary.

I remember those times. I’m not afraid of darkness, but I no longer feel quite at peace there.

This change in me…I don’t remember exactly how it happened. I know I had to be alone. I had cut off almost all communication. I needed to be truly alone, open, still, quiet. Then, while having great difficulty writing my Easter blog, it just happened. It hit me hard, knowing that Jesus had died on the cross in my place, seeing and feeling my every sin, the weight of it all crashing down on him. It was the first time in my life that I could know what that meant. It was my first time ever being truly ashamed of all that I had done. And it was then that I became a real Christian.

I no longer have the right to feel guilty for my past. It’s paid for. Where I go from here is up to me, but I don’t want to go back to those sins. They are repulsive to me.

None of this is to say that I think I’m perfect. Nor that I’m not tempted constantly. It just means that I have help fighting with the devil when I ask for it.

Since Easter, I’ve had some rough days, worse than others. But more and more, desperation and depression do not last all day. Usually, when depression hits me, it can last days or weeks. Sometimes, it’s longer.

God has helped me to understand that even if I can’t be cured, I can cope because He is with me. A pastor who I trust very much perceived angels around me.

God promises help through faith. Our faith calls on the Holy Spirit to protect those who believe in His son Jesus.

There’s one bit of evidence I can offer to help you believe me.

I’m more often happy and at peace than not. I’ve never known peace and joy like this. I’ll take this any day over what I was. And I can pray now. That used to be very difficult for me. The devil was closer to me than I let God be, and Satan is very adept at keeping us that way.

I truly wish that I could put my feelings and gratitude into words. I can’t. But now I know that true faith and repentance can make anyone this joyful. Every day, I thank God for another day. I no longer hate myself or wish to die, although I hate it here, surrounded by so much evil and darkness. I hope you will consider turning to God or turning back to him if you lost your faith along the way. He’s real, and He loves you.

I know it. I know it in my heart.

Good night, God bless you, and please, think about it. This kind of joy, I have never known.

For those of you who don’t read the Old Testament, believing that it’s all just grotesque fairy tales, I offer more proof that it’s the truth and that to understand the gospels, you need to know why it was necessary for Jesus to die and then be risen. Sure, there’s some bad stuff to read, and the account of Sodom and Gomorrah is one of them. Did it happen? If so, where is the evidence? Here’s one of my favorite pastors with something that may help.

I pray that God will open your eyes.

Why Women Hate Men, Why Antisemitism is Rising, and the Incredible Prevalence of Hate Videos

The evidence is all around us.

We men rank lower than worms on the scale of evolution.

When it comes to women, of course. Women’s opinions, to be precise.

The evidence that it will get worse, not better, is also quite clear.

Now, ladies, is that any way to be?

According to recent ethical and politically correct changes in standards, I’m not even supposed to say or write the word “ladies” in a sentence; it’s defined as sexist. How did that happen? And when did that happen?

I’ve never had anyone react badly to “ma’am” or “ladies.”

These words of politeness and respect are what I grew up with. The other day, around sunset, two dressed-to-kill ladies crossed my path at an angle, going to some event. It would have been easy to say nothing, but I nodded and greeted them, “Evening, ladies.” They answered back as if very surprised and pleased, “Good evening!”

And I do that a lot. I speak to people passing by. I’m polite and respectful. I have no reason to hate anyone, and it would be a sin if I did anyway: it would harm my soul, while my silence would make others angry at me. People ignoring me I can deal with, but bearing grudges and carrying a burden like that kind of evil is a thing I’ve never benefited from. I know because I hated being ignored more than I did getting attention. Anger begets hate and leads to nothing good.

The burden gets heavier as life goes on. Nobody is able to bear it. From hate and bitterness come a long list of single items that make everyone sick, defeated, exhausted, and eventually dooms us to Hell. And I realize that a lot of people believe in Heaven, but not Hell. That’s unfortunate. Because it’s a real thing. A state of existence past death where souls are sentenced to weep and gnash their teeth. Yes. There is a hell.

What some things are that can send you there, you probably know. But you do them anyway. On your decision to not believe in such a punishment, the disbelief alone that God would ever send anyone to such a horrible place is first on the list.

But I know. It’s quite real.

My life, as I’ve tried to describe it in the past six years, has been very disturbing for most people to bother reading about. Part of the worst of it was that it drove me to isolation.

That’s not to say that as I grew up, I was completely alone. I did have a friend or two early on, but it never lasted because I always ended up drawing a circle around myself that defined how close someone could get. If they crossed it, I either did something to make them hate me, or I backed off, usually with the same result.

Until very recently, I still did it. Facebook friends, MySpace friends, nobody was spared. Sometimes, I just blocked them. That was extremely cruel and and I learned later that I had really hurt people who cared about me. But it was what I had to do. Too close. I just didn’t want them any further in. All my life, I realized, I had been burning bridges. I found that once done, most of those pathways were forever lost. It hurt, but had I ever had a choice?

When children are so severely traumatized by the parents who are supposed to protect them that they end up pushing away everyone else, you can’t call those children “normal” and you’re not going to change that by not believing it. Trust becomes impossible.

Doctors and therapists and psych meds all can help a great deal, but as with Humpty Dumpty, they can’t put you back together. And no matter how hard any victim tries, he or she can’t get around the fact that those things that haunt their memories can’t be nullified.

Drug abuse, alcohol abuse, and more. Nothing works to escape the past. It just doesn’t. Nobody gets a pass. We say we’ll go to Heaven when we die because we’ve already had a life sentence in Hell. But it’s a lie.

****

I can never speak for another’s experience, only my own. I can’t minimize or put a value on pain. Or psychological damage. Not everyone is a “survivor” of incest, rape or severe child abuse.

Some, perhaps even most, are anything but survivors, trapped on a hamster wheel of remembering every bad thing that happened to them, again and again. And I know that’s a tough thing for most people to grasp, and that’s why people have said to me, “Baloney. You have control over your own body.”

But children and rape victims don’t have control. They have no power to stop what others can’t even imagine. The world fails to accept so many truths, and in so doing, it minimalizes those who tell the truth and puts faith in liars, and thus, all manner of evil can and will be done including crimes against humanity, war crimes, genocide and more. War criminals become heroes. War veterans are spat upon. And this is now normalized. At the end of the Second World War, when Nazi death and labor camps became more widely known, we screamed, “Never again!”

But we can’t stop bad things with mere words. How many Nazis escaped Germany to Argentina and other South American countries?

How many were left behind to live and pass on their doctrine of hatred? And how many were given immunity by the United States to get them to come here?

How many Nazis in America were there? Because Nazism never went away.

And look at how history is about to be repeated:

Last October, the Hamas plan to attack Israel and take hostages, a plan two years in the making, became reality. Children were taken hostage  and boldly carried off in dog cages, among their other crimes. Innocent people died. Some hostages were later confirmed dead. Some are still missing. More than this, I don’t know, but the wrath of Israel would soon take center stage. Remember how I said that some people never forget? Well, it’s true. The long history of antisemitism is coming around to a new cycle. It will be repeated. At universities, students protest the Israeli tactics in Gaza without knowing what is truly at stake, without any memory of what initiated the war. They either haven’t been taught about the Holocaust or they’re the next generation of Holocaust deniers. They have chosen a side based on “humanitarian” convictions and therefore inadvertently taken sides with terrorists. This gives Hamas everything they could want. Where is the sense of that? Where is the honor in that? Because if you really hate what’s happening, then you can’t take sides. You have the duty to protect the innocent, and you can’t do that by being one-sided. At present, both are wrong. But you don’t see it so. That means that peace is less probable. It means antisemitism will grow.

TICK TOCK

On the other hand, countries all over the world are trying to ban tic-tac, a social media app that China uses to further break down society. Countries like Denmark have banished it on government issued phones, but as far as I can tell, it remains available to civilians. The creators of videos are each demanding their fifteen minutes of fame because they’re full of themselves, they’re selfish, and there are few boundaries that they won’t cross. Most are at least harmless, but considering the music, nudity, and some utterly grotesque content, China has access to it, and it really is a danger to society. China is working hard to disturb and break up families and whole communities.

I’ve been troubled to see two types of women emerge on TikTok, and a few have been on podcasts.

The first are TickTok women who complain that men never ask a woman out on a date. They say that this places the burden on women to initiate the date. And some hate it. They complain that, for the most part, men don’t want to date. That they’re making women work too hard. One said she went to a certain place, dressed in revealing clothes that no man, or so she reasoned, could resist. She deliberately looked into men’s eyes, only to be “ghosted.”

She is a result and a victim of a lack of parenting and a society that has become so twisted by sin that normal relationships are no longer understood or even considered. She knows no other way and is now embittered that she’s being “ghosted.”

It is shallow thinking based on physical attributes alone without any real knowledge of what attraction is. I’ve often been turned on by the skin showing that an outfit reveals, but have never actually asked for a date.

With my background, for one thing, I find it intimidating. There’s nothing wrong with wearing clothes that reveal, but men often find it a turn-off. I’ve heard the word “slut” too many times to forget how other men take it. I’ve also heard guys I was with say, “No wonder there’s rape.”

Clothing has nothing to do with rape. But those guys were insecure and never regarded the women they saw as approachable. The women became objectified and loose to the men around them. Considering that I’m going back to the 1970s when halter tops and short shorts, hip huggers, and hot pants were fashionable, I’ve seen a lot.  I’ve seen and heard the reactions of men. And not any of it was any woman’s fault. Men have complicated thoughts and insecurities about women.

The other Tik-Tok women post man-hating videos because they either truly hate men or they’re begging for attention, challenging a man to come forward and ask for a date.

I’m not counting gold digging because that happens with both sexes.

These women have had bad experiences with dating and have come to the heartfelt conclusion that all men are rats.

Thus, these TIKI-TOCKERS post venomous videos about men being swine. Such things have a tendency to spread through influencers. I’m not particularly worried about it because I’m out of the dating game. But many men my age are still in it. They’re in better health, and they have experience enough to know how to treat a lady. But their window is closing.

Soon, the chances are, we will become some parody of everything that’s been held as moral, good, and what God wants for us.

If I see the reverse, however, of men posting tictock videos about how evil women are, I get very concerned. I’m not talking about YouTube personalities who get called out for legitimate reasons. I’m talking about blanket statements that paint all women on one canvas in one color. It’s not only wrong, it’s dangerous. If you do this, there’s no doubt that there are equal reactions: men being swayed by your words to act, up to and including violence against women, which has always existed and always will, and which you have no right to make worse.

Hate speech in videos is extremely damaging, and there is never an excuse for it. But it does not get the attention or action it deserves.

Trendy though it may be, hate videos against the opposite sex, ethnic groups, or anyone is a sin and can cause serious damage.

I want you to seek out your higher power and ask what’s right. We need restraint. Some consideration and compassion. If you’re not a peacemaker, then you are a force of evil, even if you’re silent. Silence is encouraging to those who do evil.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, because they will be called sons of God” (Matt. 5:9).

I may have my own opinions of other’s choices, but I cannot hate the people who choose wrongly. If I do that, then mine is the greater sin. Because I am supposed to know better.

Please, stop watching and liking hate videos. Not one of them is deserving of admiration. And we’re all supposed to be better than that.

I’ve seen my share of evil. I’ve done my share of evil. Satan is real. Hell is real. Ask yourself, “If it’s real, then do I truly want to go there?”

I don’t.

I rank hate speech equally with hate videos. They’re the same. The latter, though, comes in short videos for the generations with short attention spans who can absorb every hateful word.

If you go through my archives, you will see hate, anger, and more. I won’t hide them or remove them. They stand as a glaring testament to the change I’ve experienced, though a work in progress, because the battle never ends. Until the day I draw my final breath, the war rages within. Satan seeks to weaken my faith, while God simply repeats the promise that He is always ready to help me through the Holy Spirit. This battle has been fought before I could even crawl.

God told the prophet Jeremiah that before he was formed in the womb, God knew him. He knows you and I, too.

Sometimes, that verse is used by pro-life people to condemn abortion. I caution everyone not to take and twist scripture to fit an agenda. The verse is about God speaking to Jeremiah. However, we do at least need to consider whether it can apply to all unborn children.

****

As you can see, we don’t know everything. I remember a trendy poster from the early 70s: “Those who think they know everything are annoying to those of us who do.”

If we knew everything, do you think that sin would still exist? Would it have been necessary for Jesus Christ to come teach us, then die for us?

I believe that with the presence of Satan, yes. It would have been impossible to escape sin. We are all tested every day with temptation. As a new Christian who used to think he was a Christian but really wasn’t, I’m facing attacks by evil forces constantly. The devil does this because he hates your new faith. He sets monitor demons to spy on you since he isn’t all seeing or knowing like the Lord is. They tell him everything you do so he can accuse you in front of God.

I’m not worried. If God is for me, who can be against me? Those who oppose have no power over me unless God gives the word, and even then, if I hold tight to my faith, the trouble will pass.

I don’t want you to suffer from the tortures of Hell or life without the peace that only God can give you  through Christ, who has given his life so you don’t have to end that way.

Open your heart, not your mind, and accept the gift of eternal life with God in Heaven. Don’t give in to the hate that is all around you. Don’t repeat what evil people say. Don’t do as they do. Don’t trust them. They already have their final pleasures and Earthly rewards, but you will have to suffer before you get to Heaven, where there is no more pain, no more weeping, and no more hatred. Don’t count on God to be so merciful that He would never send the unrepentant to Hell. That’s not God. That’s just a lie. Satan wants you to believe it so that you become careless and sin to your heart’s content. God loves his children, but there’s a line past which you can never go except for eternity in a horrible place full of the worst things you can imagine. Don’t go there. Don’t give in to hate, bitterness, anger, or the sins of the flesh. You can have the power through faith and the sacrifice of Jesus to withstand any spiritual attack.

Thank you for reading. I pray that God will be with you, guide you, and protect you. Amen.

For So Long, I Was Blind. This Video Was Refreshing

I’ve been wrong. Really wrong. As an excuse for a progressive, I have said the very things that they say, and in doing so, I have failed God and myself, dishonored myself, and promoted lies.

What scares me and hurts the most is that this confession will be seen by people I have loved and will always love as a betrayal. They will turn away, continuing to believe wrong things, and I will have been partially responsible. That hurts. That is frightening and I am very sorry. I certainly never wanted to cause that or any level of harm.

What I mean is, I meant well. I thought I was standing up for their rights. And in one respect, that’s true. Because we all have the God-given ability to think, choose, and act freely. But I held back. To be an advocate for people who exercised the right to choose and in order to oppose laws that oppress and the growth of fascism in our country, I chose to oppose God, who does not change, has never changed and never will change. From the beginning, His laws for us were clear. Jesus did not change those laws, and He was not silent about them. Now we see the truth about enablers throughout the last century in the West. Whole countries pacifying a section of their populations to the displeasure of God, and in the end, we see how harmful and reckless we’ve all been. Ironically, my change will be seen as a reversal of my convictions, a betrayal, and make me a writer of hate blogs and may even mark me as a potential hate criminal on some federal watch list.

But I’m not doing this with swearing or slurs. Haven’t you noticed that my words are no longer laced with curse words? I don’t hate anyone. Haven’t I said, “hate the sin, not the sinner”?

I do hate, in addition to the sin, the knowledge that many will be judged by God and found wanting. They will arrive in His presence without true redemption, even those who think that they have earned it. That hurts.

The road to hades is wide, well paved, and easy to navigate despite the heavy volume of traffic. The road to heaven is not like that at all. First, because it isn’t well paved. You can miss it completely and not know it. The entrance is marked well enough. But it looks less traveled. It’s down to only one lane while the road to hades can’t be missed. It’s wide enough to handle all the traffic we can fit. There are no lane closures, no safety cones, no toll booths, no speed limits, and no police.

The road to heaven isn’t like that. Not nearly as many people are going to choose it. It’s because we have to take up our cross and follow Jesus. That life is one of restraint, of self-control. That road means no luxurious living. No idolatrous possessions. No sexual sin, no hate speech. No violence. No theft. No twisting of the Bible to fit what you do.

And it means hating our own sins and truly repenting, truly being sorry for them and never wanting to repeat them.

Now, keep in mind that that super highway has a way off. Through our sorrow that we’ve sinned. And through the change that we must commit to if Jesus is to be our savior and our way back to that path.

I’m no longer a progressive.

I’m certainly hoping that our Supreme Court will not choose to block the prosecution of Donald Trump. And I’m certainly not voting for him. I will vote my conscience. That’s how I have to live. Even if the Democrats want abortion without there being an emergency circumstance and they support gay rights. Unlike politics, I stand with neither side.

I’m a Christian. That’s all.

And that’s enough for me.

Prayer

Lord, thank you for the chance to be here now to say this prayer for others and to offer a correction for my past words that displeased you and hurt others. I ask for your help in facing any revenge from Satan, but I know that you will be here through the Holy Spirit. I’m deeply grateful for that. And please let others see what’s going so wrong and how to save themselves by your grace through Jesus Christ, in whose name I pray. Amen.

May God bless you, and may you be well and safe in this new week. Remember that being gentle and loving toward others is always the best way to be. Be kind, please.

“If God Doesn’t Allow America to be Destroyed, He Owes Sodom and Gomorrah an Apology” –unknown pastor

At first,this statement seems like a foolish, blasphemous thing to say. But think about it: doesn’t it hit close to home? First of all, look at the entertainment world. There’s not one genre of music that has had their top performers left untouched. Katy Perry once claimed that she had sold her soul to the devil. And she’s not alone. She may have been “joking”, but it’s a terrible joke. Ye isn’t even of sound mind anymore, wavering between sanity and madness. Taylor Swift is a billionaire who claimed to be a “Tennessee Christian” but who mocks God by years of unmarried sex, embracing the LGBTQ and gender neutral community and shamelessly doing anything to keep herself on top. Here’s a tip for her: nobody is above God, and nobody stays on top. She will, like everyone before her, fall from favor. And she, more than most, is likely to take it personally and hard. Because it’s all about her. Everything is about her. How the mighty do fall. Always.

What makes her situation even worse is that she has developed a cult following called “Swifties,” and they probably would gladly kill someone like me who has suddenly seen what she really is. That’s a fanatical fan base that constitutes a cult. They don’t merely idolize her; they are so caught up that they forget God. She said that the Eras Tour has been the greatest experience of her life. If that’s true, then she never knew God, as she claimed. I’ve felt times since Easter filled with such happiness and peace, such as I have never known. My bitterness and anger are falling away. My fear is almost gone. This has nothing to do with mental illness; I have not changed medication regimens or used illicit drugs. I simply changed, and that’s because I opened my heart to God. If I called myself Christian before, then in reality, I was mostly wrong. The time had come for God to see the chance and open my eyes and heart, and being willing, I did. His grace is profound, life-changing, and miraculous. For the first time in my life, I searched for meaning with openness, and it was revealed.

Love, really love, God, Jesus, your neighbor, and yourself. Hate your sins and turn from them as you see the pure evil that they are.

HOLLYWOOD

Actors are a silly lot. One year they get out two films. Then you never see them again. Or not before a decade passes, and they’ve aged badly. Drugs, alcohol and more take a heavy toll. An action star in 1999 may still be around, but no longer fit for portraying an action hero. Maybe an aging crime boss or serial killer.

Music is full of satanic songs and images, and movies are on the same level. When I was a kid, most parents wouldn’t let their children go to any movie that wasn’t rated G. In the old rating system, a G rating was what most studios strove for; it meant it was fine for kids or families. General Audiences. You won’t see that anymore. Even Pixar movies are trash.

Even Star Trek went with the women-in-underwear scenes, and parents should not be okay with that.

The shock-horror movies like chainsaw flicks are plain evil. It seems rare to see anything that isn’t shocking, grotesque, and wicked.

I watched Disney movie when Herbie Rides Again and the Boatnicks were playing. And I liked them. Funny stuff. You can’t find them now. That expensive subscription is prohibitive. Who needs to make a conglomerate richer?

But the films today have jaded every viewer. They want lots of gore and sex. They’re getting it.

Every part of entertainment is trash. I’ve sampled Halo, Fallout, and Reacher, and there are no differences between those and other series out there. It’s all poorly written and follows generic formulas.

I’ve had to limit my TV time.

Even video games have begun to make me sick. In the Assassin’s Creed series, Jesus healed, not because he was divine, but because he had an Apple of Eden, an ancient artifact left behind by a precursor race who were the gods of myths. That’s not okay. That’s blasphemy. And though the games were produced in Canada, there’s a huge market for them in America. Around the world, too.

Books do the same thing. Fantasy books like Harry Potter give magic credit for solving problems instead of faith in God. My views…have changed.

Then there’s the false preachers and their mega churhes. It’s gotten worse. Some call themselves gods or God. Or Apostles. That’s just wrong. Some preach what’s called the “seed” or “prosperity gospels,” which bilk their own members out of money they can’t afford. The blatant premise is that if you give money to the church, God will reward you with your own riches. And people believe this. They do so because they want to. But so many deny that the pastors are not godly men and women. They don’t know better because their experience is limited. Inexperience with a church and the scripture leads to acceptance of sin. And sometimes,  people don’t know what a sin is. Or a scam.

But worse, is that to give their words weight, these pastors avoid preaching about the dangers of sin and smile at the cameras and say, “God will always love you without condition and he will never stop loving you.”

This is a lie. When the time comes for you to face him, he will not be loving. If you really believed that you could be a Christian and not give up your sins, and fail to hate your sins and repent, you’re wrong. Sin causes God a deep anger. He won’t hesitate to punish you. I was like that: a false Christian who backed a host of sexual sins as “civil rights” and “free will.” I was pro choice. I was many things, a foul-mouthed blasphemer who ignored far too much of the Bible. And I’m still a sinner, but I hate my sins. I can’t wait to repent. I’m still learning how this new faith has and will continue to change me. Every day can’t be a good day, but they’re a lot better than they were.

But this isn’t about me. I’m talking to you.

Uganda passed strict laws prohibiting homosexuality and same-sex marriage. Similar laws are in place in Zambia and Kenya. The United States tries to intervene, but the countries tell them, “think what you want, but stay out of our business as we stay out of yours.”

The arguments from the US politicians are eerie but somehow so weak as to be comical: “This is about human rights,” and little else but an explanation of what “The US” considers are human rights. Sure, I agree. People have free will to choose good or evil. But in the West, we’re promoting sin and have managed to normalize perversion. The Bible does tell us that certain things are wrong. Too many people mock the Bible and refuse to believe that same sex sins are wrong. But consider this: if you don’t believe that it is so, or you don’t believe that Sodom and Gomorrah were real and were destroyed, then your conscience is clear. But I ask you, if there’s even a chance that it happened, what do you think God will do to America, which is more populated? And easily more evil?

This is why I can’t see the events of the Book of Revelation involving the United States. By that time, the country may be so depleted of soldiers and weapons that it will be helpless to wage war or even protect itself. A tech war with China looms, and we’re already unprepared to fight back.

Don’t misunderstand me. I love my country. I love what it was supposed to be. I don’t like anything it does. And we might be,  for all we know, close to a hail of fire and brimstone. We certainly deserve it.

May you find peace with God, turn away from Satan, and find peace. Tough times are coming, and you will not do well without the Lord. Be well, be good to yourselves, and be kind to each other. God bless.

Wars and Rumors of Wars: an essay

Welcome.

If you’re like me, then sometimes you forget about things when they seem to vanish from the media. And maybe, like I do, you limit your exposure to the “news” anyway, trying not to find myself waist deep in the big muddy. I know that’s too deep for me. Step once more, and I can find myself way over my head with my ruck, my M-16, and steel pot, weighing me down and making sure I stay there.

So, like me, did you think ransomware had magically vanished?

The Guardian is reporting that in a speech at Vanderbilt University, FBI Chief Christopher Wray stated that a group of hackers associated with the Chinese government had been using botnets to overpower critical United States infrastructure and have compromised key systems. These include municipal water systems, power, and more.

This is nothing short of terrifying to me, but at the same time, it’s not at all shocking.

I’ve warned in writing since 2008 that China bore scrutiny, and in international politics, that’s a significant warning. Few seemed to notice. Now, here we are: systems compromised to the point that our infrastructure is a victim of what amounts to ransomeware. The thing being “ransomed?” Taiwan. They don’t want us interfering in their long-time determination to take Taiwan as their own.

What’s really happening: China has finally come right out and declared war on the United States. This war needs no bombs, no ICBMs, no aircraft, no navy, and zero infantry. This is well-planned and ready for execution, and the Chinese government claims no affiliation with Volt Typhoon, the hacking campaign. The government has deniability but doesn’t care if nobody believes that the hackers are operating on their own. That’s just words, but in underhanded politics and war, the words matter. How many humanitarian groups do you think will align themselves with the Chinese government to “prevent hostilities?” Oh, they’ll figure it out when all of New York City has all of its power turned off, and nobody in Los Angeles can draw tap water, and DC has every access to the internet gobbled up. And worse. Everyone’s forgotten about Flint, Michigan, so conveniently because the media reported that at that time, even worse water quality was on tap in multiple cities in various states. That story went away, too, and nobody cares. Or remembers. Watching Fox News is proof that people want to believe lies. Or spoon-fed like babies fresh off the teat. That they want to be brainwashed and not have to think for themselves.

I’m wary of all press releases no matter their source, but unfortunately, this one I have to believe. I knew a long time ago that China had been planning something dreadful. When Xi was “elected” dictator, I knew trouble wasn’t far off. Unlike other wars, this one is capitalizing on our lax trade restrictions with China. They make more microchips than we do. And the country making the most chips? Taiwan.

Taiwan is the leader

South Korea runs second

China is third

The United States is fourth in microchip production.

You thought we had the top position, didn’t you?

So did I. The subject doesn’t come up in many headlines. It’s not our fault. Blame a government so divided that legislation and enforcement are impossible.

When Trump was president, all we ever heard was how great he was and how unfair the “fake news media” was.

He wasn’t wrong, but he surely did twist it.

His administration marked a strange turning point in news reporting. Most “news” channels don’t even report the news. They have chained together shows hosted by opinion peddlers who try to, and usually do, influence the way we interpret the news. Based on our beliefs and emotions, we end up divided. We can’t even agree on the fact that breakfast cereals are basically poison. And that’s without dudes on the production line urinating in your Corn Flakes . Think that’s old, do ya, think it happened only one time? That fool took a video of himself doing it. Imagine how many do it without the visual creds. And I’m sorry I researched this one. Google did that thing where it shows possible ways your query could finish up, based on previous searches by millions of users. One possibility was “how does a man pee,” and I don’t know about you, but the fact that anyone searched this is scary.

But getting back to it, China is our biggest threat ever. The apps, like Tick Tock, are things I urge you to get rid of and never look back. The data, all of it, is downloaded to the owner in China, which, by the way, also infiltrated our servers. Don’t be deceived; if a Chinese company has your info, then the Chinese government has it. The least that happens is that they see the absolute worst of us and know we’re a nation of idiots; they have the proof. But millions of computers get compromised by this and other means. That 2,000 dollar gaming PC you own isn’t really owned by you but is part of a botnet their government is using right now, going to dedicated targets in over twenty pipelines. You can be owned and never know it. Games, even if they’re single-player games, still have to be played online. That’s a perfect storm. Once compromised, it’s nothing more than a bot. Not only can it be used that way, but also to get your personal information. Transactions, search history, habits, and those ridiculously awful videos you post showing your new jailhouse tattoo between your breasts right before you twerk, because twerking. An enemy that first does all the intelligence collecting is the mightiest of all, one to be feared. And we let them do it.

Capitalizing on teens and young adults who are reckless and have no shame, they’re in for keeps. We can’t stop the coming attacks. This is a war we will surely lose without immediate and drastic intervention by our government.

The problem is that people will scream that their rights are being violated and cause a real mess. When the Patriot Act was put in place,  few people realized that it was for the good of us all. We still have no idea how many terrorist attacks were prevented because of the act; that information is a part of our national security. For safety, we had to give some things up. After the Twin Towers fell, we agreed to it. Now, people shout about its evil nature. Now, we’re in this place of susceptibility to a tech war. It may not be one fought with bombs, but people will die. Imagine power in hospitals being cut off. Life support for premature newborn babies won’t work. A shooting victim can’t be saved by surgery. The freezers in the morgue stop. Vaccines and blood will go bad. No lights. The backup generator runs out of fuel because gas pumps are without power. Trucks can’t deliver oxygen. In 24 hours, every hospital in any large city is forced to send bodies to the basement where the stench only gets worse.

Traffic lights remain inoperable. Traffic accidents and backups get worse. Then they run low on battery power or fuel. The city shuts down.

One may think, come on, let China just have Taiwan, but do you really think that it would end there? If you do, you’re wrong. Give in to terrorists, let them know that you can be broken, and you guarantee that worse will follow.

Meanwhile…

The war in Gaza has not let up no matter how many civilians are killed; the war between Israel and Iran is being downplayed, which is concerning, and our response is tepid. President Biden condemned the Iranian attack on Israel, but it seems certain that this will embolden Israel to continue its war against Gaza. There can be no winners in these conflicts, which can easily escalate into World War Three.

Ukraine is weakened, and the Russians are gaining ground. If Ukraine continues to get no relief and supplies, then Russia will win within just months.

It’s not looking good.

The words of Jesus come back to me: There will be wars and rumors of wars...

Now is a good time to kneel and pray.

And get rid of Chinese apps.

Remember, you didn’t care. You were warned. We all were. But you and everyone else wanted your fifteen minutes of fame. Nothing could stand in your way; you had to show off your butt implants, piercings, or try to impress that girl in trig class by doing something that should have killed you but didn’t, and you wanted to make her laugh. News flash, it didn’t work. She didn’t laugh, she cringed, and now she’s so aloof that she might as well be in Australia. And you can’t get there from here. Oh, sure, the girls giggle by their lockers when you walk by, but it’s not in appreciation. Nope. You screwed up. So you immediately delete the video but it’s too late, and hundreds of people you don’t even know have downloaded copies. It’s like that topless selfie that Wendy Anderson sent to her boyfriend two years ago. He shared it with his best bud, who pushed “send all” and it can’t be deleted. It might even be on a porn site or two, and Ms. Anderson found out the hard way that whatever is done, is done. Forever.

The Anderson family had to move away after that. But in no town was Wendy safe. Someone found it. She had filled out, but there was no doubting that it was her in that picture. Old men propositioned her and she tried to complain. She found the photo on a porn site. Her parents successfully sued. But they found out that money can’t erase anything on the internet. Their daughter is in therapy and even occasionally hospitalized for suicidal thoughts. She’s on medication for life because PTSD of that level of severity doesn’t just go away. Like that one photograph, it is forever. How many lives have been ruined in this way?

You can look, but you can never know because of confidentiality laws. Teen suicide is a huge problem, and this type of thing adds to it. On Tick Tock, kids do the dumbest things I’ve ever seen. Engaging in drama is the least of it. I thought I was stupid growing up (I was; nobody is immune), but spur of the moment or impulsive acts on video are the very height of recklessness. How many times have you seen a report on a celebrity posting hateful things on X (Twitter) that they say is now deleted? Too late, dude. Half the country took screenshots and shared them with the other half of the country. Now, you can apologize until your fingers fall off, but who will believe you?

That is, unless your name is Taylor Swift, then everyone will believe it’s a deepfake. But you, nobody will forget. And words cut deep. They are every bit as destructive as mortars. Maybe worse. We’ll know when China makes the overtures in their tech war. Imagine how easily they can put deep hatred using social media between man and wife, best friends, or two countries.

REVENGE STORIES

One thing I had randomly pop onto my YouTube feed was what’s known as a revenge story.

I’m not sure whether the authors are all one woman-hating man or otherwise, but the stories are all narrated by AI voices.

They all involve a husband who gets the suspicion that his wife is cheating on him. Sometimes, the man has long suffered from the signs he’s sure are what he thinks they are. Sometimes, the husband is actually tipped off by a friend, a co-worker, or a family member. Sometimes, he finds blatantly careless clues. But every story has the common theme, and it goes like this: the husband converts their joint account into his own, sends them to “offshore” accounts, puts the house up for sale, gets the best divorce lawyer in town, a private detective gathers evidence, he secures sole custody of the kids or finds out they’re not his, and gets alimony and child support from the now-destitute wife, whose lover leaves her all alone. Sometimes the husband immediately stays in a hotel or apartment, sometimes he moves to the guest room, leaving her desperate to ease her suspicions that he knows and have “closeness” (sex) with him to show her undying fidelity and love. When it fails, she’s scared until the moment she’s served with divorce papers. Then, she tumbles into depression and begins to lose weight.

Some of these stories come from reddit and inspire dozens of copycat videos. The point is that men who read this rubbish tend to become paranoid, and that gains him a division between him and his wife, who gets tired of him sneaking around and trying to catch her. Marriage over.

Without trust, we cannot have meaningful relationships. It’s that simple.

Granted, marriage isn’t easy. And the wrong couple won’t last. And spouses do cheat on their partner. It happens. And it always has, but in this porn-filled, social media-dependant world, it seems more and more prevalent to me. Our society is full of people encouraging others to “experience life” and then watch their advice lead to ruin. Now, with all of this going on and texting or messaging letting people easily be tempted and then plan acts of fornication and adultery, don’t you think that a cyber-enemy can use all that? Of course they will. The reddit stories are one way. Ruin the family unit, one at a time, and you weaken the whole. Deepfakes are big in porn, and celebrities like Blake Lively are big on the list. I remember reading that the invincible Taylor Swift had some of her Deepfakes removed, but for every single one she found out about, there are infinitely more.

Imagine seeing your wife in one. Finally, we have to question what is real and what is not. Conspiracy theories abound as to our reality not being real at all, but a version of a “Matrix-like” simulation. They even link the Mandela Effect with “glitches in the Matrix.” Okay, now we’re really losing it.

But the time is coming when China and perhaps other countries will wage war with all of this. Personal information, images, rumors, and more. It will be the opening shots fired in true war, softening our resolve and even our cognitive thinking before emptying Wall Street, shutting down military defense, and leaving us unable to do anything about it. Get your minds out of the gutter, out of conspiracy theories about matrices (not having to do with advanced mathematics but conspiracies) and goofy YouTube videos. Wake up. Pray that God will grant you the awareness of what’s really happening.

The war that I believe I see looming will be worse than anything we have ever seen. Jesus said it would be like the days of Noah. People will be eating, drinking, and marrying or giving in marriage. They won’t care. While millions starve to death, including wee babies, the rich and powerful are turning away. This is the path to war. This is a time of social and economic upheaval, the like of which this world has never seen. Are you ready? Really ready? Because as far back as Joel, there’s a prophecy about the moon turning red:

“The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes.”

Interestingly, rust has been discovered on the moon. It’s spreading. On a body with no atmosphere, I don’t think I can explain it. Feel free to follow this fascinating phenomenon at your convenience. Who would ever guess that rust would form on the moon, visible and verified? It may not mean much. I don’t pretend to know. But what if it does?

Isiah chapter one:

The vision of Isaiah the son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah. Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth; for the Lord has spoken: “Children have I reared and brought up, but they have rebelled against me. The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” Ah, sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, offspring of evildoers, children who deal corruptly! They have forsaken the Lord, they have despised the Holy One of Israel, they are utterly estranged. Why will you still be struck down? Why will you continue to rebel? The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. …

“The whole head is sick.”

That’s for certain. Porn, internet intrigue, slander, drug abuse, alcohol and tobacco… we’re all sick. But we are convinced that we are right. Festivals and rituals praising Satan are sickening to me. There’s nudity and sexual sin, paraded for all to see. Witches claim religious rights and attract many to their evil cult. We’re sick, alright, and the prophecy may have been about the Jews,but all of humanity is stricken. All truth is decried as lies, all manner of evil permitted. Human traffickers operate with no fear. And the United States is a prime target, already soft, already weakened by false preaching, or apostasy, turning people away from God instead of toward him. When will we learn?

Probably not until it is too late. The prophet Daniel wrote that near the end, people will go to and fro, seeking knowledge, and knowledge will increase. Well, you don’t need a library anymore; you have the internet. Search any subject. It’s there. Want to know the order of battle for Midway? You got it. A close recipe for KFC? Done.

The times of the last days are coming but not yet. Besides, nobody knows that. When Jesus told his Apostles that there would be wars and rumors of wars, and earthquakes in various places, he added that of the hour of the end, he himself didn’t know, but only God did. That means we’re to live the best we can and not obsess over it. But though I don’t obsess, I also see the storm clouds in the distance. Look at what we’ve done to ourselves. Soon, those towering clouds will get closer, and violent lightning will be seen. That’s as close as I ever want to get.

Cyber-warfare is here. And from here, it only gets worse. Now is the time to feel regret for those selfies and stupid Tick Tock videos. Repent of all you’ve done by first seeing how wrong you’ve been. Regret those things, hate them for what they can do to your soul after your body is finished, when God will have his own say. Fear God, who can send you to eternal anguish and pain. Only then can you truly help others.

Only then can your mind be made well again.

Goodnight, and God bless.

What you don’t see

I sit, waiting for a cardiac workup, convinced that I had a heart attack, trying to take it easy. But I can’t. I know that things are getting scary, and I wish I could help you. I wish I could comfort you. But I can’t. I am trying to scare you because things look bad. Israel continues war crimes in Gaza. Then comes news that Israel sortied F-35s to attack Iran. And Ukraine is losing its war with Russia.

Reports say that Chinese youths are giving up on life because of the repressive government committing human rights violations. They declare of their country, “Let it rot.” That’s an incentive to shake things up and start a war. So, yes. Scary stuff.

What I haven’t been seeing is that underneath any headline you care to pick, there’s something more evil. Something slimy. Vile. For all of you fans of Joel Osteen, Madonna, Taylor Swift, and thousands in entertainment and evangelism, I’m asking you to rethink what they do and say.

I finally got sick of the gender nonsense. You’re not gender neutral. Not binary. You’re one sex or another, and that’s it. I’m going to ignore those who look like a certain gender but harshly correct me when I politely call them “sir” or “ma’am.” I’ll do my best, but I’m not taking bullets for anyone’s misplaced identity. I’d be a hypocrite to say I’m a Christian and take the sins or mental illness of others as normal behavior or conditions.

I won’t be hateful or angry. I will not mock nor preach to them. I will remove myself from the situation. But I’m not playing that game anymore.

I oppose sexual sin as it is defined in the Bible. And that’s another game I won’t play: “Jesus never said anything about homosexuality.” Yes, but he did read from the scrolls of what’s now The Old Testament, and he fulfilled the prophecies about himself, and as he preached the New Covenant, he didn’t change it. All he said was, in Matthew 5:38-48,

38 Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:

39 But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.

40 And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.

41 And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.

42 Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.

43 Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.

44 But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;

45 That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

46 For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?

We are to love each other and give, and forgive; we must not hate people for what they do.

You can hate the sin, but you must love the sinner.

We all have trouble with this. But the point is that this is the only Old Testament quote he made that changed.

Of course, he did say that if, on the Sabbath, an ox stuck in a ditch should be rescued because farmers depended on their beasts of burden. I tend to view this as common sense, not a major change.

Maybe Christ didn’t condemn immorality by each specific name, but he did condemn it, going so far to say that if a man so much as looked at a woman with lust, he had already sinned with her in his heart. That’s far more specific than “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

One question before I get back to my recess:

If you die tomorrow, are you sure that you will be welcome in Heaven? Do your actions, habits, or interactions with others really strike you as righteous and the things of a truly repentant person?

Think about it.

Joel Osteen says, “You’re already forgiven.” He leaves the part about true repentance and stopping your sins. In so doing, he lies. Everywhere I go, I hear people saying, “I know that if I sin, all I have to do is ask forgiveness.”

But will you be forgiven? Because God will not forgive a sin that you will not stop repeating, but will only forgive habitual sin that you truly regret and see as something evil and damaging, separating you from the Holy Spirit. This…is the most important decision you will ever make. So please think on it.

My life is not the same. I regret my words. I regret ugly thoughts. I regret my sins and fight temptation with God’s help. I don’t even use the F-bomb anymore. When I’m certain that I’m weak, I pray. It used to be hard to pray. I believed wrong things like Joel Osteen says. My life has a new normal. But I’m not haughty. I remain steadfastly more humble. I’ve lost friends and after this I will lose more. I’m sorry for this, but I don’t care if I lose every friend I have. I’m not going back to my old life.

Don’t mock God. Believe in him, and only him, the one true God, creator of all we see and hear and know.

Above all, be nice. Be a good example of a Christian. I do not believe that John Hagee, Joyce Meyer, Joel Osteen and most people in the entertainment industry are Christians. They have enough money that they have no need of nurturing the spirit through God. Taylor Swift is not a Christian. Madonna is doing everything that she can to mock God and work for Satan. Look away from these people and pray for them to see the truth. In the meantime, look after your own heart and soul. The way to Heaven is narrow and not easy to stay on. Guard your faith with all that you have. Don’t let evil people make you give it away.

A world war looks more likely all the time. Scary things are happening. You can live in that fear or have the peace that comes only from God. It’s up to you. But Jesus must be accepted first.

John 14:6King James Version

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

Beware, for the Dead Do Not Speak

One of the things I’ve always had a healthy fear of, even though I have been guilty of it, is using psychics, mediums, and card readers. Once, going through a Dundalk farmer’s market, I was walking aimlessly, just browsing about. For a reason I didn’t understand at the time, I got to a spot where I stopped walking. I wasn’t looking at anything; I just stopped and seemed to have no idea of what surrounded me. I can’t say that it was dissociative, as I have extensive experience with that. All I can tell you is that I drew a complete blank. I don’t know how long it lasted, either. I have no idea at all.

All I can say is that when I became aware again, I was looking at a beautiful woman seated at a table. An older woman was on the edge of my vision but distanced herself because whatever brought it on,  I was being seduced by the beauty of the one seated at the table. She was definitely of Mediterranean or an Eastern European descent. She had me under some kind of enchantment or spell, and it was mildly unpleasant. I was being drawn to her against my will. I didn’t notice that all sounds in the busy market had been silenced until she asked, “Would you like a reading ?”

I knew better than to have anything to do with divination. The Bible warns that such things are an abomination to God. My sister had once had a terrifying experience with two friends and an ouija bqoard. I never saw those friends of hers again. But she never told me what happened. She did get our father to throw it away. Trash collection day arrived, and while the truck was passed, she screamed. Our parents ran to her room. She was hysterical. The board was back in its place, on the shelf in her closet. Next, our father broke the board in two and smashed the pointer, or planchette. But the next collection day saw it back on her shelf in one piece. She screamed again, and even I saw it. But this time the old man had had enough. See, he didn’t like being scared. He hated showing fear even more, as if it threatened his position as head of the house. Or his “manhood.”

So on that night, a cold autumn evening, he built a nice fire in the fireplace. Again, the board “showed” its unwillingness to go. Now I can’t remember what color the flames were, but they were either blue or green, and in my mind, I seem to remember green flames consuming the thing. He even fed the box and the planchette to the fire.

It would be easy for me to add detail, but my memory only goes this far, and beyond that, it’s unreliable, and I’d be lying. I won’t do that.

What I can tell you is that evil wasn’t new to the house, but after that night, everything got worse.

Sexual abuse by both parents. Terrible abuse. Beatings no child should ever get. Verbal abuse and conditioning. I can’t speak for my 7 siblings, but I know none were left untouched. How it affected them, I can’t say. But my life has been quite messy.

I learned a lesson from those 3 screaming girls who ran screaming out of my sister’s bedroom on that dark fall afternoon. You don’t mess with the ouija. Over the years, researching the paranormal, that lesson was repeatedly reinforced.

Therefore, I have no excuse to offer as to why I sat down across from the beautiful woman and paid money for a card reading. But one thing I sensed was that the older woman was exercising power of some kind over me. I felt it, but I also knew it. It was knowledge. Intuition didn’t play any part in it. And that was scary. Really scary.

The cards came up. I was going to travel to a place I would not want to go. I was going to meet someone who would make me never want to be without her. I don’t remember anything else.

Except for the curse. Someone, she said, was very jealous of me. They had placed a curse on me. It would take 80 bucks for her to (privately) light candles and “say a few words” to break the curse.

I didn’t pay. Except, I did. Just consulting her was a grave sin. Bad things did happen, as if trouble hadn’t already dogged me enough in my life.

This is when I had my first heart attack at age 38. There’s a long list. But the point is, I’d done something, among other somethings, that brought the wrath of God and allowed demons an open door policy to harass me, which they absolutely did.

My sins were too much for me to think about. Sick things, mean things, perverted things. I’d occasionally say a prayer asking for forgiveness, but coming from a sinner who intends to keep sinning, it could only anger the Lord more. Only I didn’t see it that way.  I blame no one except myself, but I have never encountered again the power I felt drawing me to that woman. And I think that the old woman had much to do with it. She was strong. But she didn’t get her power naturally. It was pure evil.

Talking to the dead

This is especially offensive to God. We’re warned not to try, yet it has become a profession. TV shows glamorize it. YouTube channels specialize in it. Foolish people go to cemeteries at night equipped with spirit boards or are accompanied by mediums. You are forbidden this, but people unaware of how evil it is,do it anyway. Some feel a thrill and fear, especially teenagers and young adults. They even do it at 03:00, an hour best spent far away from such actions and deeds. In fact, even offering gifts like flowers to the dead is a sin. Once a person is passed away, they do not hear or see you. Flowers are money wasted. The effort and the visit are not just useless, but the places of the dead hold spiritual dangers you can’t possibly know until it’s too late. When we die, there’s no way to interact with the living. People who die and have out-of-body experiences are always sure to say that they rise from their body and can even look down and see it. None ever say that they spoke to a loved one and were heard. They all say that they’re helpless to communicate. That is, until they reach their destination: heaven or hell. When they are spared, this is something the experiencer always says. Most even say that they feel their detachment and lack emotional reactions to whatever is happening.

That’s a very clear indication that you shouldn’t try talking to the departed. Should you ever get an answer when you attempt it, you will not be in contact with anything human. You have in fact opened a door to the spiritual world. If you keep going, something will come through that door. Something just for you. And you’re not going to like it.

After decades of study, I can’t cite source material, nor would I reveal the identity of anyone who may have told me a personal story. Take my words to heart. People report being attacked both spiritually and physically by unseen or shadow beings, and even atheists have felt the need to seek a priest. A spiritual attachment happens when a demon is not allowed to possess you but does have permission to attack and harass. Sometimes, this attachment is as difficult to break as an actual exorcism.

What the demons could be are lifelong followers assigned just for you or a loved one. They can briefly look like a lost loved one, and they may, in extreme cases, talk to you through a spirit board and convince you by what it knows about the departed. That demon had followed the dead person around in life, unseen. It knows things. It will hook you into asking it more, which doesn’t end well if you tell it to show itself. It will not be who you’re expecting.

Instead of the dead, concentrate on the living, who you can help through prayer, faith, and a loving heart.

I used to wonder and worry about where my children went when they died. I would pray for their souls.

This was to no avail. It’s clear that they have gone to the places they earned during life. I must accept that and not dwell on things I can’t change.

Leave the dead alone. They are far beyond your reach. Except for funerals, stay away from cemeteries and other places of the dead. Because while you live, you can make a difference in the life or lives of the living. That’s a high calling and far more worthy of your time.

The New Christian, Mental Illness, and Sex

If you are a new Christian, like me, I am very happy for you. There are some things you need to know before you go another day. One is that the old ways may not go away from you easily with your new faith willing, full of happiness at your newly found faith.

There are a lot of pastors out there who will be very happy for you but turn out to be neglectful. They won’t tell you things that you need to know in order to grow through faith in God. There are things that will quickly rise up to take away your new peace and keep you separate from God.

The forces of evil, along with your old ways, can combine to stop you dead in your tracks. Do you have a habit you’ve found hard, if not impossible, to break? Is it part of your reason for turning to God for answers and acknowledging Christ as the one who takes away your sins?

And has some form of mental illness that kept you down still holding you in place, holding you like a prisoner?

Read on. This is for you. When I’m finished there are two videos I’d like you to watch, because I’m just not good enough to tell you the whole story of what you can do to avoid those snares that will be in your path.

Before you came to God, and before I did, it was easy. No sin was beyond our ability to do. We were ready to do almost anything. Any thrill, any crime, any act. Hey, we were up for it. Nothing mattered. Even if your wife or husband found out, that didn’t matter. A lie here and there, in the right spot, would make it go away. You thought, as I did, that you could lie your way through anything.

And we found out, didn’t we, that life just ain’t like that. A scorned wife or husband usually calls you out, and they will not forgive. In the movies, it’s different. But whereas a battered spouse will, out of fear and conditioning, stay with you, the cheated-on spouse never or rarely does. But sexual sin is especially difficult to align even in your own mind. You can’t get through it without guilt, that heavy feeling of regret, and knowing that you could have prevented it.

That never goes away on its own. You need Christ to wash a sin like that away. And if you have any kind of mental illness, it’s going to be more difficult. You’re not a lesser person than anyone else, but your circumstances are different and may make many things more difficult. You’re sometimes struggling just to live, and any extra problems that come up are almost impossible to bear.

I recently mentioned that because of my parents, I’ve had a lifelong addiction to porn. Magazines, 8mm films, DVDs, and finally, internet sites everywhere I go.

That is an enormous roadblock in your new quest to find and serve God. This is because of the mechanisms working in your brain while viewing porn.

The Oxford dictionary gives the act and definition of objectification as:

  1. the action of degrading someone to the status of a mere object.”the objectification of women in popular entertainment”

That’s it, exactly. I lied to myself. I told myself that I didn’t objectify women. It was a stupid lie; and I also said that it wasn’t their bodies I admired so much, but the whole person. I wondered who they were, what their lives were like, how they were doing. And it’s partly true; I cared about them more in recent years than when I was a teenager, sneaking the latest copy of Hustler Magazine into my room after work.

I cared. About trafficking and drugs and if they were willing.

But there was never a difference between the objectification and pretending to care about someone I’ll never meet. There isn’t any fine line between pretending to care and lust.

There can’t be. Something is either the truth or a lie. And the two don’t mix like you think they do. Mainly because God knows your every thought. We can’t hide from him even if we lie to ourselves.

And now it’s finally time to tell the tale:

In late 1994, after being separated from my ex-wife, I began an intense affair with a married woman. She shall never be named. But it began with infatuation, and the old hindsight would later tell me it shouldn’t have happened at all.

Because it was torture to us both, but when her family learned about it, they were understandably wounded.

The sex was as intense as our arguments. I kept asking her if we had a future. I got no answer, because of course we didn’t. But she wanted the sex to continue.

On and off for four years, this lasted. She used mental torment to keep me in line whenever I tried to end it. It was as sick and dysfunctional with her as it was with every woman I’d ever dated. In fact, it was the worst relationship I’ve been in except for the last girlfriend I ever had. Both became stalkers. I’d break up, and she’d send flowers. To my workplace.

This is but one of the reasons that the Bible warns us about committing sexual sin. Either one of those women could have killed me; others have died like this and will continue to do so.

For newly converted Christians, mental illness can take all the wind out of their sails. People like me who are gentle and fragile will attract those who seek out that fragility and exploit it. They see us as an easy mark, alone and vulnerable, and most of all, lonely.

And I do get lonely.

Thinking we are loved, we dive right in. And that person has a definition of love that is totally alien to the real thing.

Porn is every bit as bad, though, because you objectify others while engaging in fantasy and masturbation. Remember: God knows your every thought. You will be held accountable by God. Jesus warned that if a man looks upon a woman with desire, then he has already sinned with her in his heart.

The problem becomes one of focus, determination, and how well you can discipline your mind.

For guys like me, that’s a tall order. A lifetime has been spent in slavery to sex, lust, and porn. Having a mental illness makes it harder. Our minds are rarely disciplined. We are rarely able to focus. And our determination lasts until we see an ad for bikinis. Or a woman wearing one.

It’s curious that I have been so severely abused and yet pursued all kinds of perverted fantasies and desires. I should have ended up hating sex.

Schizophrenia is a disorder I know little about. I can’t speak to that. But personality disorders like helplessness can result in clinging to, or “smothering,” our romantic partners. We want to have someone who can take care of us when there’s trouble. Our greatest fear is abandonment. Once we’re in a relationship, that’s why we cling. And get jealous or suspicious always.

It ain’t no way to live, I can tell you that. It’s a prison in your own mind. And you make love into something it is not. Your partner will tire of you and never see you again, and the finality of it crushes you.

Bipolar disorder and post-traumatic stress are the worst. A person with the latter will never function normally for very long. This time, the clinging is more prominent, and sometimes total dejection follows you everywhere you go and shows in everything you do. Sex can be followed by a heated argument you start. It even gets worse over time. In the end, you will always push others away to keep them from doing it to you first because you know it’s possible, or you even see it coming.

Even the view one has about normal sex is up for grabs because you and I were raised abnormally.

In my case, it showed in high school that I couldn’t function sexually without looking at porn.

But mental illness does not mean that you are doomed. In time, with therapy, you can improve.

But you’re also a new Christian. This is a critical time for you. The forces of Satan will dog every step you take. Don’t be fooled: there’s really a battle being waged between God and Satan over where you’re going after death. Pray as often as you can, and ask your pastor to pray for you. Ask anyone to pray for you. The prayers of the righteous will help. I know,  I’ve seen the before and after pictures.

Jesus said, “If your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it aside. It is better to enter the Kingdom of God blind than to go to hell with your eyes.”

He was speaking about lust. If you see a buff guy on the beach or a woman in a skimpy swimsuit, look away. If you can’t stop, then don’t go to the beach. You have no idea how many times I’ve had friends say, “It’s okay to look,” never knowing that it’s really a dreadful sin that isn’t much different than actually committing fornication or adultery. According to Christ, those are the same things.

My suggestion is to seek professional help and spiritual guidance. If what you get are honest people, then you’ll get real help. Medication, therapy, and the help of a good pastor who always has time to counsel you. Give them a chance because it can take a while to find the right meds and therapists. Typically, you’ll need three weeks to determine if a drug is working for you. Pastors these days may not be prepared to offer guidance of any consequence to the new Christian. Did you know that a random survey showed that internet porn is viewed heavily by pastors? Yes, it’s true, and it’s a huge problem. That sort of pastor is in his own hell and cannot help you. Keep looking until you find one willing to talk frankly about your problems without sending you away with pamphlets that are of no help.

This is a fight between good and evil for your soul. You cannot afford to have a half-hearted person “helping” you or to make the same tepid effort yourself. But you can’t fight mental illness and lust and porn by yourself. You’ll lose every battle. Instead, turn to God for your answers and let him guide you.

And remember: most Americans don’t want to talk openly about sex in any truthful manner. Sure, they’ll talk about exploits, conquests, and adventures. But those are people to run away from. Whether you desire celibacy or marriage, you first have to know what you’re facing in Satan, the dirtiest fighter in all of history. Then you have to accept that if you fight alone, you will lose and lapse back into sin. Your only chance lies with God. When you decided to give your life to him, you may not have been warned about what lay ahead. That’s a big problem in churches today. They collect the trays full of cash but give nothing in return but empty words. I don’t care for showy churches with small orchestra ensembles and huge choirs. If they sell anything like CDs of their own sermons on your way out, don’t go back. I compare this greed with what Jesus found in the temple courtyard. It’s thievery and a scam. And the pastors probably ogle every woman in that church without an ounce of remorse. None of this is okay. Flee from that church as you should flee from a nightclub, a place you, as a Christian, don’t belong.

Prayer

Abba, please help all who suffer and look to you for help, give them the strength they need, not to fight lust, but to run from it. We praise you and thank you for the gift of Jesus, in whose name we pray, amen.

May the Lord help you, bless you, and go with you this weekend and the week ahead. May peace be with you. Amen.

Peace is Not an Affliction

Warning: This essay contains a discussion of sensitive themes, including child abuse, drug abuse, pornography and suicide. It contains a link and an emergency phone number for people who may be contemplating suicide. Please proceed with care.

The other night, I watched a video on YouTube. Well, I tried to. I didn’t quite make it.

The title was “Two Vietnamese Girls React to Full Metal Jacket,” and, like a fool, I clicked on it. I think they skimmed past the expletive-filled intro, which showed off the talent, experience, and intensity of R. Lee Ermy, a Marine veteran who served in the Vietnam War and also was a real Drill Instructor. The part was going to be (or already had been) given to another actor, who eventually played a crazed door gunner who would, in flight, shoot civilians working rice paddies, while Ermey went after and got the part of Sergeant Hartman, the senior DI.

Sadly, Boot Camp is the only part of the film worth watching, as the Vietnam sequence is dreadful. So dreadful, in fact, that Kubrick didn’t even bother to move production to the Philippines, where the jungle settings and ruins would have at least been convincing. Filmed outside of London because Kubrick disliked traveling, he imported some palm trees and secured permits to use an out of service industrial complex. From the start of the Vietnam sequence to the end of the movie, it was complete garbage. Even historians don’t give it good ratings because they’re not fooled. Show a history professor a movie like that, and what you get is hilarious.

The young ladies lost me when the setting was early in Boot Camp. The sergeant has the men doing a double-time cadence. Part of it was, “Ho Chi Minh is a son of a”–

I get it. Okay, I really do. They shouldn’t have watched this movie. Mainly because it’s crap, and Platoon is a better choice, and The Siege of Firebase Gloria is even better because experts from both countries collaborated, and it kind of portrays a shorthand and dramatized account of Khe Sanh, but set during Tet.

That one features Ermey and Wings Hauser in excellent performances.

Well, as you can expect, the ladies were up in arms: “No, we don’t want to hear this. We were invaded.”

Don’t tell me now that Uncle Ho is revered, when he was cast aside during the war like trash.

I couldn’t go any further. It’s just a movie. You weren’t even alive then. Yeah, I get that the scars of parents and grandparents have been vocalized and taught in schools. And I get that both countries were waging a horrifying war. Being that I’m still studying it, I know that no single book has ever been able to contain everything about it. There are two ways an author can approach this problem: cover the operations and order of battle details or concentrate on the more intimate accounts of the men and women who fought it.

Many authors have tried both. They always fall short. It can’t be done. That war killed us all just a little bit. And I don’t like it any more than these women. I’m aware of the horrors. But I’m still an American and a veteran, and I don’t like hearing us accused of being the sole villains here. That’s not true. So you don’t want to hear the cadence. I hear you. I don’t blame you. You have the right to believe whatever you were taught. But you weren’t taught the truth.

And that is as far as I go. I’m sorry that it happened, but it did. If you’re triggered by such movies, don’t watch them. The war is over.

And this is where I wonder, just what is it about humans that they can’t seem to tolerate peace.

I have absolutely no dislike for any race, culture, country, or any single person. That may seem like a lie, but I’m being honest about it. Why should I hate? I may hate what people do or say, but I don’t hate people. First, I’ve been warned not to judge the person because I’ll be judged the same way.

Second, hatred is bad for you. Anger, hate, bitterness, and envy are our true mortal enemies. They eat you until you are consumed. Until all that’s left is evil. That’s no way to live.

I’m not judging the women on the channel. They don’t know the full history. And patreon subscribers egg them and other reaction channel personalities on to watch certain movies that they hope will be disturbing to the person or persons watching and reacting to such movies. My favorite is still “Popcorn in Bed,” and Cassie truly reacts to things in an emotional way that touches me. But I saw that someone had put to the vote an excruciatingly bad piece of garbage titled “The Human Centipede,” and that’s just her Patreon subscribers trying to hurt her. No. I have not watched it myself. But I’m aware of what it is, and I know better than to watch it.

What’s with all the cruelty out there?

I’m reclaiming my right to ask, based on my recent experience. I’ve looked back at how cruel I have been, and I deeply regret what hindsight reveals. Even as I wrote about my life as an A-hole, I didn’t think it was as bad as I now know it was.

Since Easter, I feel differently. Like a dark veil has been lifted from me, a heavy, blinding burden I have carried all of my life. People are very important. They’re precious to the Lord, and I love them.

All life is sacred.

But we don’t act like it is.

And the right I reclaim is to ask again, why can’t humanity tolerate peace? What is it that drives us to kill and cause pain to the living? What gives us the right?

Earlier, I walked up to get a coffee and some smokes. I am trying to quit smoking, and I know that I will because I hate it. I just need a bit of time.

I walked past the flag, our flag, the Colors. I rendered a hand salute. Veterans, as well as soldiers out of uniform, are forbidden this simple act of respect for our country. I did it anyway. It’s a stupid rule, and I reclaim my right to salute. I love my country no matter how I’ve criticized it. Being a critic is a civic responsibility. But you still love your country. You just want what’s right for it.

I’m proud of our service men and women. I always greet them as I did to a soldier I passed on my walk: “Good afternoon, sir. Thank you for your service.”

It makes me feel better when I see them. They stand tall. They have pride that shows in the way they walk. It’s good to see.

I greeted several people as I sat on the bench with my coffee and a cigarette. The clouds tried to conceal a very deep blue sky, and that, along with pain throughout my body down to the soles of my feet told me, not yet. Friday might be pretty wet, though.

I feel so much better around people. I’m not afraid anymore. I remember being married and paralyzed with intense fear to the point I couldn’t even go grocery shopping with my wife. She thought I didn’t want to be seen with her because she was overweight. That was never true; I loved her. She never understood how damaged I was, and neither did I. I was frustrated that I was so dysfunctional. And that I couldn’t articulate it.

And I’ve been trying ever since to figure out the extent of the damage, and so have my doctors. Over the years, since 2005, I have frustrated them with how they saw me present. They should see how it looks to me. It ain’t pretty.

I’m finally getting a therapist again. It only took since 2012. Her name’s Janie, and I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never met a Janie I didn’t like. In fact, that was the name of my father’s first wife. And since she dumped him in record time and vanished from all critical records, I have to say that I will always respect her. She knew he was a monster. She blew the scene and covered her every footprint. I’m afraid, though: he damaged too many people in his life. A sick man with demons crawling on him like chiggers on a deer hunter during Indian Summer.

He and his third wife, my mother, sure did a number on me. On this very site, I have told most of the story, but I have also gone from being positive on one post to a doomsayer the next. I hope you can forgive that, but I’m having a very difficult time with it.

Sometimes, people can’t get over their wounds. That’s because those wounds don’t heal like others do. A broken heart? I’ve heard of doctors who swore that they lost patients that way. I don’t need to swear. I know it happens.

But the wounds a severely abused child carries into old age, that’s a very different thing. And yes, it takes the wind out of you. Every day, you swear you’re drowning. PTSD causes much more than flashbacks, and while those are bad, the nightmares, insomnia, self medication, and reckless lifestyle are there as well. With those come panic attacks that make you feel as if you’re drowning without water at the end of the world, IBSD, chronic headaches, and eventually suicidal thoughts, many of which are so tragically realized. All played out against the backdrop of still more, because it’s everywhere.

In my porn adventures (which are over), I’ve seen incest become a growing theme, from role play to what’s unquestionably real amateur videos. Written stories are lurid and protracted. Snapshots are posted. I know, I’ve done the research. I know that for lots of people, it’s a fantasy, but no sexual fantasy should ever, ever come to be a reality. It never ends well. Not even “adventures” between consenting adults.

But I was so stuck in such dark places that I felt hopeless for most of my life. I hated myself. No amount of prayer, therapy, or drugs could change that. I’ve felt so dirty. I needed porn just to have real sex. All because my parents showed me and one sister 8mm movies which gave me a taste of what they then forbade me. I wrote about this and guess what happened?

Yeah. I found a story on a porn site. Like the stories you used to see in Penthouse Forum. And it was exactly as I told it, only with more detail, and it made me sick. Because the little kids in it were willing and enjoying it. Children that age don’t even have the capacity to consent.

So I grow up, and I’m in one stormy relationship after another, hurting the girlfriends who loved me, driving them away. And I have a marriage turned sour, two children I’ve outlived, and here I am, lonely, but in recovery or rehab.

I got up from that bench this afternoon and started the walk home. And as I cleared the walk past which point there were no people, my good mood turned sad. I felt lonely and depressed.

A decade ago, if I felt like that, it would stay. I might attempt suicide. As a matter of fact, I did. Three times. I was on life support that last time. Only by the grace of God can I be here with you now.

Instead of trying to kill myself, I should have pushed on ahead, no matter how much it hurt.

Today, I kept pushing. It was worth it. Here’s why.

Aren’t they so beautiful?

I’ve learned that there’s always room in my life for one more step. One more minute. The minute turns into an hour. And that hour can turn into one more day. It’s hard. You don’t think. You just do it.

You find pockets of beauty. Good people. Take that and keep it in your heart. They can make life worth living. That’s what I’ve learned.

But not everyone gets to learn that. We’re all different, and to another, our lives don’t look bad to them. And it’s just that kind of thing that decides it for too many people. Nobody understands. Nobody listens. In your darkest hour, even God doesn’t hear you. Or maybe you refuse to listen to him. Maybe you don’t believe in him. And you’ve already been hurt so much, so many times that you can’t let anyone get close to you, and no matter how much they seem to like you, you ditch them before they get the chance to give you any more pain. I’ve been there.

Maybe you think the odds are against you. And maybe you think that others have targeted you, or someone close is offended by you, something you said or did pushing you away. You’re afraid you can’t risk another hurt. You have a collection of hurts, you carry them with you, hidden from sight. But you act on those hurts. And others will not understand that. You draw attention, but not the good kind. People look at you funny. Like you really need to blow that booger out of your nose, or your zipper is down. Or you have a nip slip. Or you just stepped in dog poo.

Or….

Or do you just think that they’re looking at you funny? Might they not be looking at you at all?

All it takes is a misfire in your brain. One fraction of a second, but it stays there, like the beating of your heart. I’ve been there, too. Getting help and getting dialed into the right drugs, plus support and counseling, is a great place to start.

But you have to want it. Otherwise, you strain at the bit. Otherwise, no help can come to you.

If you reach a point where you’re feeling so bad that you don’t want to live, then you’re in trouble, and you may actually do yourself harm.

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I don’t want you to leave us that way. We are far better for you being in this world than not. You’re special, unique. There’s no other like you in this universe.

Every single day, we lose over 130 people in the United States to suicide. That’s one every ten minutes. I’m sorry. There was so much potential and promise in them. Don’t make us have to live without you as well.

I’m not going to say what those who are numb to your feelings and heart say, like “you’re being selfish” or “think about someone besides yourself.”

Because I know. I’ve been there, and selfish is the last thing you’re being. But it’s you I care more about, not so much as them. You’re in trouble. You may feel unloved (I love you) or dreading some looming event or consequence. Maybe you’re in an abusive relationship and you’re at your breaking point. Maybe you’re afraid to leave, afraid of what they’ll do. Or drugs have too much of a hold on you. Maybe porn has ruined your life. And your diagnosis doesn’t matter to me. I’ve known and lived with every kind there is, including some insane criminals. Trust me when I say this: there is nothing that you can tell me that will change my conviction that you are precious and you deserve to live. Nothing will change my assertion that if you have faith and ask God for help, you’ll get help. I know. I’m more at peace than I have ever been in my life. I wish I could convey what that means to me. It’s a new and very empowering feeling.

I will be continuing this subject. Not enough people talk about mental illness from the viewpoint of one who has it. We all need to fix that.

If others, if humanity as a whole cannot tolerate peace, then I can. And it’s worth everything I’ve gone through that brought me to it. Had I not known such violence at an early age, I would not appreciate the peace I now feel. I might have turned into someone who couldn’t tolerate peace because they can’t appreciate it.

May you know peace, and may God bless you.

Prayer

Abba, thank you for giving me this time and means to try to help others through you. Thank you for my trials, as they have made tender my heart. Thank you for your son’s awesome sacrifice. May others come to you in search of peace and the atonement of sins Jesus paid for with his blood. To those who ask, please give, and to those who seek, may they find you. They’re good people. I pray that they will find hope and comfort in you. Amen.

Nazis in Hell

Bryan Melvin just gave me another reason to want to stay well clear of hell. First, I don’t like anyone he met.

In 1942, a man was killed in Prague; an assassination ordered by the exiled Czechoslovak government. If memory serves, he was killed in a car. However much they wanted to kill Hitler’s own “Man with the Iron Heart” because of his past deeds (he had ordered the bloody Kristallnacht, or the Broken Glass Night, [var.] Night of the Broken Glass in which Jews in Germany and Austria were dragged from their shops and houses and murdered. He was involved in the Wermacht and Kreigsmarine, the Nazi air force and navy, respectively; and a chief “architect” of the “final solution to the Jewish Problem.” Before his assassination, he had already killed over one million Jews.

Heydrich was so depraved and bereft of human nature of any kind that resistance fighters were tasked with his specific rub out.

After his death, the Nazis mistakenly targeted two towns as being responsible for staging the soldiers for the attack. The villages stand to this day as ruins, even if they were later rebuilt nearby. The razed villages stand as a memorial to every citizen, men, women, and children, whom the Nazis killed in revenge.

I don’t know if Wewelsburg, the castle where Heinrich Himmler was determined to raise Aryan knights from the dead, was ever visited by Heydrich, but I can tell you this: he would have been right at home. Dark cultist rituals were supposed to have been done there, but I didn’t find credible records to verify this, and I never have. With those two men, there died many horrible secrets.

Bryan Melvin contracted cholera. He flatlined and went to Hell, not Heaven. He saw terrifying creatures doing incredible things, and do you want to guess who he saw along the way?

Yup. The Man with the Iron Heart. He says he saw several Nazis but also saw Hittler being roasted in one of those ovens. Yeas, the Nazis burn in Hell. Recyclable charcoal.

And, like Bryan Melvin, I, too, see the world returning to antisemitism and persecution. It’s fine to want to condemn the war and to want all hostilities to stop at once. But it’s been completely out of my experience to hear this much antisemitism in my own country. This war will not stop just because you support terrorists or Nazis, both of which consist of fanatics who shouldn’t be allowed outside. It won’t stop because it’s never stopped. It never will.

But Bryan Melvin knows what he sees: Christian persecution along with terrorists dragging Jewish children across the border in dog cages.

Melvin learned a lot of things on his guided journey through hell. He was an atheist who returned a changed man. A man of deep feelings and convictions who feels he’s been called to share his experience with everyone who has an ear to listen: “Repent! Make way for the son of God!”

I never meant to persecute Christians. But in calling out what I consider false Christians for extremist conservative views and hate speech, I failed to look at myself. Committing the same sins over and over again, thinking if I asked for forgiveness, I would actually be forgiven, was telling myself a lie and choosing to believe it. I also lied to you because I wasn’t forgiven. If you don’t hate your sin and sincerely want to stop, you will not be absolved. I was as bad as they are, or worse: I knew better.

I’ve had to let go of many things in my quest for redemption. Addiction is the hardest of all. Everything has to go: sex addiction,porn, gambling, alcohol, drugs, voyeurism, and more. These things caused me to be separated from God until I could see the truth and truly repent and want to stop everything I was doing.

Am I telling you to be a monk or a nun? No, but those are honorable things to be. I’m saying there’s a difference between believing in Christ and courageously fighting temptation. You need both. They work in tandem. You need the Holy Spirit to surround and protect you, but you have to want its help.

And cherry picking from the Bible is not okay. What if you dismiss something that you need to keep believing in?

As far as I’m concerned, the evidence for a global flood told me not to scoff at accounts because others told me those were impossible. I’m also convinced that God has more than enough power to make anything happen. If you believe he created the universe, you should go from there.

I’ve heard and read about Christians who rule out the Old Testament because they don’t like the dark stories it contains. They may not like the Old Testament, but it isn’t safe to ignore it. Choices made with bias lead to the wide path that takes you to hell, while a bit of patience and prayer may save you from it. I can’t bear to think of people’s souls being lost to false teaching, changing the doctrine from peer pressure, and being inconvenient for the believer to live by.

Please watch the following video. I trust God to speak to your heart through it.

God bless you. Thanks for letting me be a small part of your day. And please follow Touching the Afterlife on YouTube. She’s a good Christian and excellent interviewer, so go show some love.

My Search for Redemption

I was having a rough time this morning. I had it almost set in concrete that I was going to do something. Something I knew was wrong. I asked God for help because I knew I didn’t have the strength myself to resist such a strong temptation. And then, by some chance, looking for something very different, I found the 40-minute video below. I encourage you to watch it. Now, the moment has passed, and I’m free to take on the next challenge.

Not that I’m looking forward to one, but one will not be long in coming. I’m not proud of myself. I didn’t do anything except ask for and be open to help. I don’t hate myself anymore. I accept the challenge. I have to.

While writing my post for Easter, I lost interest. I moved Part One back to draft status and ceased work on Part Two.

I’ve been having a difficult time keeping focus and faith. I’m sure you know how that goes. We all do.

But what happened is that in trying to find my strength, I realized how weak and small I really am. I couldn’t do it without help. In the past, all the things I did were useless. My effort to reach out to survivors with hope were tainted by my own frame of mind. Was I really doing something good? I don’t know. I wrote that if I had low stats as far as views, it didn’t matter, so long as something I wrote helped someone. Even if I never got to know if I helped. But the thing that bothers me is, I was always in the picture. It’s been about my life, this memoir of mine, but I got carried away. Lost my way.

Then, I realized how lost I had been since the beginning. Mental illness is a tough affliction, and much of the time, I was failing to get how sick I’ve really been or notice how it affected my work. My anger and indignation show in every line I have written. I offer no excuse, and I’m aware that most of my followers don’t bother anymore. I know this because getting one or two views a day or less is normal. I’m not reaching anyone anymore.

But that’s okay. I understand. I’ve posted some good stuff and some awful stuff. My dream of being a writer goes no further than this blog. The “cursed novel” will never be read. I will destroy it because I have known for a long time that it felt wrong to me, whether it was good or not. It felt blasphemous to me. That same conviction haunts my work here. Without reminding followers or mentioning to new readers that mental illness figures prominently in my everyday life, I often turned people off. And, while I’ve never felt that I had the right to take a pass because of mental illness, it does affect what I write because it’s part of who I am.

Maybe it’s not my fault that abuse shaped who I was. But that doesn’t mean I get a pass now. Being aware of problems means we have to fight them, right?

Well, my words have done far more harm than good, and I’m sorry about that. It’s not why I write. I ask you for your forgiveness if anything here on this site caused you pain. I have no excuse. Words hurt.

At the end of March, my health care worker notified me by text that I had an appointment. The next day. That’s cool. It’s telehealth anyway, so no stress. But the next day, I didn’t get the usual text for a link. I called the office, and it wasn’t supposed to be for that day; the appointment was the next day. I texted my worker that it was the wrong information. She apologized profusely, apparently unaware that I’ve never cared about little things like that. I texted, “I’m gonna get you back for this. Little early for April Fools Day, innit? When you least expect it, expect it.”

She wrote back,”Why be evil? I’m under a lot of pressure and words hurt…”

I sprang the trap: “Got ya! Hahahaha!”

A couple of minutes passed. She sent a smiley face. I had to remind her to lighten up. She’s overworked and underpaid for such a good and caring person in that job. She’s rare. The next day, she started her vacation. Haven’t seen her since. I hope she comes back, but if not, I’ll know why. A vacation is often difficult when the last day is up. Hours pass like minutes. A tired body isn’t ready yet, and the mind can’t handle jumping back into the pressure cooker.

But I had to try to get her to loosen up. She had never called me “evil”  before. I was kidding, and she didn’t catch on, despite knowing me better than that. The lesson I learned was to watch every single word, written or spoken, that comes from me. To never have anything that could be taken as having a different meaning come from me.

Words can do great damage. I don’t know how many I may have hurt in my posts, but I am sorry.

The choice is always mine. I admit I enjoyed being critical of Taylor Swift, but even though the media is mostly the prime perpetrator in her attention, she does revel in it, and a person cannot serve two masters: God and fame. Her claim to be a Christian falls flat with me.

So does my own claim. I’m taking that problem on right now, every day, with the courage and determination that can only be strengthened by God. In my quest to regain honor, I forgot about him, and in so doing, lost my way completely. The answer to overcoming anything was always God. In writing Part Two of my Easter posts, I was hit hard when writing about Christ seeing and being punished for every sin I had ever committed. The full meaning hit me like a train. God knew before I was even born every single word I’d say, every evil thought I’d have, every bad thing I would ever do. Hecknew how I would use my freedom of choice. But he loved me so much that his one and only son was sent to be sentenced and executed in my place. And yours.

I felt deep shame. For the very first time in my life, I knew what it meant to repent. It’s important that I tell you it’s nothing that I thought it was.

It doesn’t mean asking for forgiveness. It doesn’t mean that if I did that, I could sin again and repeat my prayer.

It means that God doesn’t tolerate or forgive me of a sin I have no intention of stopping. My apologies were not accepted. They were useless words.

Redemption can only come when I decide to face, not avoid, the shame that comes with sinning. I have to face the sting of that shame and truly, honestly, fight temptation and not have the desire to commit a sin again because that’s not okay. To hate the act, to really mean it when I pray for forgiveness, that is when it will be forgiven. That’s when God can help me. I will ask for help and get it. Because I’ll honestly want that help.

I’m in that battle with myself and the devil now. This is a fight I can’t avoid. I can’t throw the towel in either; I have no desire to ever see Hell. I want to be with God. Because I know the things he’s done for me, and I love him for that and more.

I search and thirst for redemption, for without it, there is no honor.

Only Hell.

The First Easter part 1

Even atheists know how Yeshua of Nazareth was executed by Rome. Let’s talk about the parts most people get wrong, including scholars.

In his language, his name was Yeshua, a name very like “Joshua,” and we get “Jesus” from the ancient Latin translation.

All of  what we know about him comes from the canonical gospels; in other words, the accounts of the New Testament in the books of Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John.

While they do differ, I consider all to be as accurate as possible. Even if you dwell on when they were written and dispute their accuracy based on that alone, remember that the first Christians were hunted and persecuted. The Apostles all died as martyrs in all likelihood, but not before writing and telling the story to others. Therefore, I have always believed them.

It’s important to first understand that the Messiah was spoken and written of by the prophets of the Old Testament. For example, Isaiah chapter 53 says something extraordinary:

KJV

“53 Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?

For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.

He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.

He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken.

And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth.

10 Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.

11 He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities.”

Eerily accurate

This chapter describes a suffering Messiah. The Jews usually took it as such until well after the Christian doctrine included it.

Isaiah also predicted that the Messiah would come as an infant born of a “clean” woman. In other words, a virgin.

And this happened. Only one gospel describes the event, but it happened. There may be other accounts not yet discovered, which also give the story of Mary and Joseph, but what we have so far aligns with the prophecy.

And so we have Yeshua of Nazareth. He recruits 12 apostles, and for an unknown time (about three years), they travel on foot, teaching and learning while their master heals the crippled and the blind, and lepers. The stories of his deeds and his moving words of mercy and hope spread rapidly. Crowds gathered to hear him speak of forgiveness and the love of God for his children.

He often told stories to illustrate what he meant. One favorite is the story of the prodigal son: a father had two sons. One day, one of them said, “Give me that portion of my inheritance now,” and the father did. As time passed, the son lost all of his money on pleasures of the flesh, and he was soon broke. He tried to find work, but he was treated badly. Finally he though that even his father’s slaves were treated with kindness. So he went off to find home and ask to be a slave. But his father saw him coming and noticed his shabby, Wan appearance, and his heart was filled with pity. The son who had wasted the money never had to ask for scraps or employment. His father wept for joy that his son was returned, and told the servants to clothe him, put a ring on his finger, and to kill the fatted calf in order to celebrate his son’s return with a feast.

Meanwhile, the son who had remained with his father returned from the day’s work and found out the reason for all the gaiety. He was upset and said, “You’re giving a feast for him after he squandered what you gave him, the fatted calf for celebration, yet you’ve never even given me a kid (juvenile sheep) to celebrate with my friends!”

The father explained, “You are my son, and you have always been with me. All that I have is yours. But your brother was lost, and now he is found! He has come back home!”

Jesus tried to tell us that we had (and have) wandered too far from the lighted path God set for us, and should we wish to return, we will be welcomed and forgiven.

The Ministry of the Nazarene held much to think about, and many believed in him. But the growing crowds and the stories of casting out demons, and even worse, raising the dead, and feeding a large crowd with some fish and bread, well, this was all getting back to the high priest in the temple at Jerusalem. To the mind of Caiaphas, this Yeshua was really causing trouble. Late in the ministry of Jesus, the high priest was alarmed, shaken and paranoid that his absolute rule over the religious requirements of the law would be questioned. And paranoid men act accordingly.

On what we call Palm Sunday, Jesus came to the city riding an ass, or what we call, a donkey. This fulfilled a prophecy.

That day began what’s known as the week of the Passion. It would end with the execution of Jesus.

It didn’t help much that Jerusalem was crowded with the faithful who came to celebrate the Passover and the greedy merchants who would prey on them. This was the worst possible time for what happened next. Jesus saw the temple courtyard crammed with money changers who converted foreign coins to what was acceptable. They took in a handsome profit in the exchange. He also saw something worse. Merchants who sold doves and sheep for the sacrificial offerings to be burned on the altars who also profited because once inside, the priests decided which animals were pure enough. If there were blemishes or other visible signs of imperfections, those animals were refused. This caused the worshipper to need a new animal for sacrifice for the atonement of sins. Most couldn’t afford another purchase and believed that they would be stricken by God as punishment. This fear, more like a terror, could absolutely ruin anyone. Their hearts were in the right place, but they had been lied to. The fear alone often kept someone in line, and if that didn’t, then fear of the Romans did.

Rome had moved in to capture Judea around 65-60 BCE, and it was Herod “the Great” who was an Edomite but tied to the royalty of his mother, who was perhaps of Arabic descent from Petra. When he was friends with Mark Antony, then his foe Octavian, who, after the Battle of Actium, would become Caesar Augustus, Herod enjoyed a puppet reign as a king of Galilee Judea, which was a Nationalist political territory, which meant that surely they would have fought a war against Rome, but Herod was a buffer. He cleared the sacred temple mount and either expanded or completely rebuilt the great temple, which went a long way to get the Jews to keep the peace.

However, a war did take place. The animosity of the Jews would never leave them.

But it was not all bad.

The temple was a source of joy to the people, connecting them to God in faith and in practice.

But the people nonetheless hated the Romans and Herod as well, who was seen as a traitor and an evil man. All of this led directly to the actions Jesus took in the temple courtyard when he saw that it was full of profiteers who were anything but believers. He threw the tables of the money changers and loan sharks over, then went after the merchants who sold the sacrificial animals. He threw open their cages and scattered them. Then, in front of an astonished crowd, he shouted, “It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer, but ye hath made it a den of thieves!”

It angered as much as saddened him to see all of this. But it also angered Caiaphas and the priests. Jesus, if there had been any doubt, would now be viewed as a direct threat to their absolute power. He had an unknown but large number of followers, which was even more troubling. The priests all knew that he had to be dealt with.

While still in the city, they tested him in public. Posed with facing the true laws, if they asked the right questions of him, he would surely corner himself, exposing his fraud. A woman said to have been caught in the act of adultery was thrown to the ground in front of him. Already terrified and humiliated, she did not raise her head. “Master, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. According to our laws, she should be stoned to death. What do you say?”

Jesus replied, “You are correct. That is the law. He among you who is without sin, let him cast the first stone.”

All of the mob had stones in their hands, but not one of them threw one. They had instead put themselves in a corner. Bewildered, they dropped their stones and walked away. It was utterly humiliating. When they were gone, the woman, who had not looked up, was still weeping and waiting for the first heavy stone. Jesus asked, “Woman, where are those who condemned you?”

She finally, fearfully, looked up. She was amazed to see that stones littered the sand, and those who had held them were gone. “There is no one,” she said. Jesus said gently, “Then neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”

As the Son of God, he had the authority to forgive her. As a gentle man, he pitied her and, though aware of her sin, chose to be merciful and loving. This was his nature as both God and man, sent to become flesh to tell the truth, to heal, to renew the broken.

By mid week, he had taught in the temple, and still stories of his deeds filtered into the city. There was one about Jesus raising a man from the dead after several days of being entombed.

It was rapidly getting out of hand. A blind man was given sight. One of the twelve Apostles, Judas Iscariot, possibly meaning “Judas, the man from Kerioth”, or “Judas from the city,” wasn’t a true believer. He had been frightened by how much attention Jesus was getting, but it’s also possible that he was a zealot, a member of a group of radicals who sought to overthrow Roman rule. One had approached Jesus and tried to persuade him to strike the Romans. Jesus tried to tell him that he wasn’t going to be doing that, which turned the zealots against him. Judas would take it from there. He conspired to betray Jesus to the temple guards in exchange for 30 silver coins: the price of a slave.

Once this arrest was made, Simon Peter awoke in Gethsemane and cut the ear off one of the guards. Jesus said, “No, Peter! All who take up the sword shall die by the sword!”

It had already been a night in which Peter and the others were confused by the Master’s words and actions. Before even arriving in Jerusalem, Jesus had told them, “…there, the Son of Man will be betrayed, arrested, and raised up.”

Earlier at the Passover meal, Jesus had confused them further. He said the bread he broke was his body, broken for them.

That was puzzling because the expression “raised up” meant “to be crucified.” But of the wine he said, “This is the cup of the New Covenant. A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another. As I have loved you, so love one another. By this, people will know that you are mine. Drink, for this is my blood, shed for you. This do, (eat and drink) in remembrance of me.”

Later, in Gethsemane, Jesus had awakened Peter, John, and James and warned them to be vigilant. Jesus was extremely agitated. In the light of their torches, it was clear that he was sweating blood, a real condition caused by extreme agitation and fear.

When the guards showed up and Judas kissed him, it was over. There was no going back.

Before loyal (the members of the Sanhedrin who had expressed interest in Jesus and who did not consider him a threat were excluded), members of the Sanhedrin convicted Jesus of blasphemy and false teaching, leading the people astray. He was sent to the Prefect Pontius Pilate. We now know that he was not a “procurator” because of  archeological evidence found in Caesaria, which indicated he was a prefectvus, or prefect, of Judea.

Pilate’s wife, who remains anonymous, sent him a scrap of papyrus on which she had written a warning not to have anything to do with Jesus, for she had dreamt of him and suffered greatly.

On finding that Jesus was from Galilee, Pilate saw his way to rid himself of the prisoner. He ordered that Jesus be sent to Herod for trial. It should have worked. It didn’t.

It was proper to send Jesus to Herod Antipas, as Rome preferred that criminals be tried in their native land. And as it happens, Herod was in Jerusalem at the time. Nazareth was in the tetrarchy zone of Galilee. It could be argued that he was from Bethlehem, but he was born there, and his mother did not live there. As far as we know, he grew up in Nazareth.

Herod was the son of Herod the Great and likely as crazy as a bag of rabid cats. None of his history points to his being of sound mind. He probably spent much time besotted or watching his wife, Herodius’s daughter, whom history has named “Salome.” He lusted after the younger woman. He had lusted after Herodius as well, marrying her while her husband was still alive. This was an abomination according to Jewish law.

It was Salome who, in exchange for an exotic dance, asked for the head of “the Baptist,” referring to John the Baptist, a loud critic of the unholy marriage. But the death of that prisoner had, according to scholars, haunted the tetrarch. As years passed, he ran afoul of Caligula after being good friends for a while, but that story makes little sense.

When Jesus was brought before him, he was complimented that Pilate had deferred to him. But what he wanted was to see a miracle that this Jesus was so renowned for.

He got nothing but silence. Angered, he sent Jesus back to Pilate. And here Pilate made his first mistake of the day: he should’ve released Jesus because theTetrarch of Galilee had merely sent him back with bruises and a purple robe. Instead, he put him on trial. When the courtyard began to fill with spectators obviously manipulated by Caiaphas, Pilate began to get nervous. He knew what they wanted.

He was about to make his second mistake of the day. He hated the Jews, hated this dirty, arid land and hated the fact that he should be at a higher post.

He was a cruel man, as many Romans were. Rome demanded discipline among its captured provinces, and civil unrest was not tolerated. Much earlier, after Spartacus and his army were put down, it was inevitable that survivors who had caused so much trouble would be severely punished. While the body of Spartacus was never found, 6,000 of his routed troops were crucified on the road between Capua and Rome. Since Rome used this form of execution as the powerful deterrent that it was, the bodies were, as custom dictated, left to rot. Crucifixion had come to be the slave’s death, but political dissidents and thieves were also executed in this way. The custom was to strip the prisoner nude, nail him to the cross, and leave him to the insects, carrion birds, and the harsh elements. Rome was efficient and ruthless, and there was no reason for regrets. That would change with the execution of Jesus of Nazareth.

End Part One

The First Easter part two

It was a mistake for Pilate to have Jesus brought back before him after Herod had released him. He was not compelled by law to do so.

The prophecy of Isiah was about to be fulfilled. This time, the crowd was far more rowdy, and he began to get nervous. His fear was that another riot would start. Another one of those, and the Legate of Syria would pay him a visit or recall him to Caesaria. Worse, Tiberius himself might hear about it from a messenger of Caiaphas, who was in modern terms a “crybaby.”

While Rome was not usually tolerant of other religions than its own, and unrest of any kind was quickly put down, the Jews were an exception. But the end of that wasn’t far into the future.

Pilate had, earlier in his job here, had his infantry place their shields atop the Fortress Antonia, and this had caused a massive protest in Caesaria. The shields had images on them, and according to the laws of Moses, this was a forbidden act among the Jews, and they were not going to allow it from the Romans. On another occasion, possibly because he had been forced to remove the shields, he’d angered the people, whipping them into another riot. In the chaos, auxiliaries in plain clothing infiltrated the crowd, killing an unknown number of people with their daggers. Again, someone got to Rome with the accusations, and Pilate was warned to stop his stunts. The implications were twofold: first, he would be removed from his post. Second, he might face disciplinary action. That was enough for him to fear the treacherous Jews and hate them even more. It had less to do with antisemitism than his personal assessment of these people as filthy, rebellious, and steeped strongly in religious superstition. Only one god? Who were they to get away with slapping Rome in the face, and worse, have it deemed legal? There’s no evidence that he was a religious man, but he knew that this accommodation was nothing to be taken so lightly. It was dangerous to avoid putting any occupied country under the full extent of the law. It created the assumption that they could escape acts against any Roman law.

And, sure enough, they tried. They resisted paying taxes, and they insisted that Roman soldiers entering a home to search it “defiled” them. They demanded special treatment. If they didn’t get it, they rioted. This necessitated a full garrison of troops to always be present. Everywhere he looked, he saw trouble brewing. He had tried to bring order to this filthy city and was rewarded with warnings not to provoke the people. He felt hobbled and frustrated. How could he do his job if he couldn’t even apply and enforce the law? He couldn’t understand why it was so. 

He knew what the priests did to their own people. He saw how easily they would riot. He saw the betrayal and disloyalty they had for each other. This post was beneath any Roman, and legionaries weren’t even at his disposal; all he had were auxiliaries, who were barbarians, people from lands Rome had conquered. Whereas Roman legionaries were highly trained and disciplined soldiers, the same was not always true of the barbarian auxiliaries. Nevertheless, all of the empire’s soldiers, including cavalry, heavy infantry, and light infantry, were ruthless and unforgiving. They took prisoners to work as soldiers or to be sold as slaves, but in a conquered land, the rule of the empire usually occupied and ruled the people effectively.

There was always some resistance, but it was up to the Jews to become regarded as unruly and relentless in their show of hatred of Romans. Rome never hated Jews; early on in the occupation, Caesar Augustus had a curiosity about their religion and decided that he liked them. This was not shared by succeeding emperors. But in the time of Jesus, Tiberius did, in fact, follow the wishes of Julius and Augustus.

The Empire

As emperor, Tiberius was anathema to men like Pilate. Politically, the man was a bumbling idiot who put his trust in men who were even bigger fools. The dispatches and letters or gossip that reached him were utterly baffling. He rewarded and favored the worst men that the empire had, basically punishing successful generals like Germanicus by keeping him in the east, unknowingly placing all of Rome in peril.

In the history of the early Roman Empire, Augustus was the hinge. On him swung centuries of horror that might follow. He forced Tiberius to drop his wife, whom he loved, and marry his daughter, Julia, who immediately took a mutual loathing toward her new husband. This one act would set in motion such intrigue and terrible events that nothing in the territories was solid, and once Tiberius took power, he seemed to miss or ignore how disliked he was by the Roman Senate. Tiberius seemed to make snap decisions from emotions alone.

If Pilate knew of this, and he very likely did, then indeed, one more infraction could well cost him his life. Pilate also had to have known that on the periphery of the military, the assassinations of generals whom Tiberius favored were happening regularly. He would also know that it was stupid because it was the generals whom the emperor kept away from Rome who, by conquests and popularity with the troops, were really the ones the Emperor should favor. Or fear. Succeeding emperors would learn this lesson the hard way, to be forgotten by the next.

If this dreadful post kept Pilate out of all that, then he had to see the irony in it: in a filthy and isolated territory full of fanatics he wasn’t even allowed to punish, at least there was comfort in knowing that few others would want his job. It offered safety, at least to some immediate extent.

Stories about the emperor were still coming in, each more disturbing than those they followed. He drank too much wine, had lavish feasts, or even worse. He often retreated to Capri, and it was there that he would set the title of emperor in cement as a character, such as one in a play, too ridiculous to be real. Indeed, his chosen heir was Caligula, and that was never going to end well. On Capri, Tiberius had Caligula tutored but spent increasing amounts of time with children. And while Rome did tolerate some juvenile-adult same-sex indulgences, Tiberius seemed to know no limits. A typical provincial governor could not possibly be unaware of such things. They had to wonder if their jobs were secure and their families were safe.

Pilate must have had a growing concern over the stories; never considered a stable man, Tiberius would very possibly scream and order his execution if crowded Jerusalem on a holy week revolted.

Pilate and Jesus

Pilate may very well have hated his post and hated the people he ruled, but it was mostly political. He hated the priests most of all. By putting Jesus back on trial, he hoped to release the man while quelling the fury of the manipulated crowd. If he played it right, it was bound to work.

He told them, “I find no guilt in him that deserves death! Therefore, I shall have him flogged and released!”

There’s a mistake that even scholars make about the flogging of Christ: they say prisoners bound for the cross were always flogged first. This could not be further from the truth.

That’s because a Roman flogging was such a severe punishment that it often killed the prisoner, while others were driven over the bounds of their sanity and never recovered. It was a punishment rendered with a flagellum, a carefully crafted and time-tested instrument too cruel to imagine. A wooden dowel served as a handle. The rest was all nightmare. Leather strands were affixed to it, and these were thin but tough, being tanned and finished. At the ends of each strand was a small, heavy, iron dumbbell-shaped object. There might also be sharp pieces of bone sewn in, and upon impact, the leather strands left a deep welt, while the ends continued by momentum to curl around the body, arms, and legs to dig in and leave deep bruising and cuts.

The Jews had a similar punishment carried out by wood rods. This is where we get the 39 “strokes” or “lashes.”

With a Roman flogging, there was no such limit to how many times the prisoner could be lashed. With too few, the scourged might reoffend. Too many, and he would die of shock.

It was extremely painful, cited by some scholars as having earned the name the “halfway death”. The barbarians in this garrison probably consisted of men from races who did hate the Jews. With every lash, Jesus fell slack against the stone pillar he was tied to. He would straighten up, take another lash, and again go limp and moan in agony.

The soldiers put their hearts into it, and the supervisor, a centurion of the legionaries, made sure that they didn’t kill the prisoner, who had been beaten before even arriving, both by temple guards and some of Herod’s men. He was dehydrating, yet even though he might have been in shock, he fought the lash. As if he wanted more. One of the few Roman centurions present in the city, there because barbarians could not rise to that rank, noted that this Nazarene was tough. While he may not have wanted this, he was remarkably resistant. Striped from chest and arms to his legs, with blood oozing from them, the wounds made by the iron bits were worse. Reddening, they would turn into angry bruises that would keep him incapacitated for weeks. Some of the metal had dug into the flesh, and he bled more from those. The soldiers enjoyed their work, and even those watching laughed. The centurion called for a stop, and he let the men have some fun with the prisoner, as was allowed. While those who had wielded the flagellum were out of breath and exhausted, others came up with ideas. This was hardly the first “messiah” they had heard of. But this man may have been a first, being called a “king”. One soldier fashioned a circular “crown” made of dried wood with thorns. He placed it on the head of Jesus, pressing it down. The blood from the long, tough thorns puncturing the scalp and sides of the head immediately trickled into the long hair and down the face of Jesus. The guards thought this very funny, and another said, “A king should have a scepter!” A long stick was given to Jesus, who by now was going into deep shock. They took the stick and beat him more, mocking him and spitting on him.

When the time came to take him back to the Prefect, Pilate took one look and gasped. Even by Roman standards, the punishment had been sadistic and harsh. With one eye already swollen shut, Jesus, covered by the red cloak of a soldier, was almost too much to stand; Pilate was himself a tough man, having witnessed massacres, executions and more, yet the sight of Jesus made him recoil. He thought that, seeing his condition, the people calling for his death were sure to have pity. In front of the crowd, seated in his curule seat, had Jesus brought to him. He yelled, “Behold the man!”

And was instantly shocked at the loud response: “Crucify him!”

This was another, more fatal mistake by Pilate. Having ruled that Jesus would be released following his flogging, he again put Jesus on trial. He had one last thing to try. He said, “It is the pleasure of the divine Caesar that once a year, in respect for your holiday, one prisoner will be released back to you. We have Barabbas, a murderer, and your king, Jesus. Which one shall Rome release?”

Caiaphas and the priests had anticipated this and already worked the crowd with threats to shout for the release of Barabbas. They did. And the crowd got worse.  Pilate’s mistakes were made from his hatred and anger and caused him to underestimate the high priest. He had no moves left. Checkmate.

At first, Caiaphas had merely accused Jesus of heresy, which was not a crime against Rome. Finally, he had resorted to the accusation that Jesus had proclaimed himself the “King of the Jews,” which was treason. Pilate thought Jesus to be weak in the head, but still didn’t believe Caiaphas. But it was too late. This chess match was one with the stakes of power between two men. And Pilate had defeated himself. The matter was more political than anything else, never racial. It was over too quickly for it to turn political.

He called for a bowl of water and a towel. He dipped his hands in and shouted, “The death of this man who I have found not worthy of death is not on my hands. I wash them free of his blood!” This was a Jewish custom. His verdict was followed by his mockery of their own rituals thrown in their faces.

He’d tried so hard to save this puzzling man from the cross, but Jesus seemed to have no interest in being saved. After being brought back from the flogging, he asked Jesus, “Why have you nothing to say in your own defense? Do you not know that I have the power to release you or crucify you?”

In his weakened and dehydrated state, Jesus said, “You have no power but what is given you from above.”

Pilate probably never forgot those words.

Crucified

More misconceptions are here than are fully appreciated by men with letters behind their names. First, prisoners bound for the cross were not flogged beforehand.

The reason is right in the gospels: he went forth from Pilate, bearing his own cross. No man who had been flogged could carry anything.

Prisoners were taken from holding cells, had their own cross beams placed over their shoulders, and were led to Golgatha. In front of the condemned was a soldier bearing a sign painted with the criminal’s name and crime. Every prisoner had one. It was not unique to the execution of Jesus.

Whether he was tried at Antonia or Herod’s palace is irrelevant. He would be saddled with his cross at Fortress Antonia and then carry it to the place of execution.

He didn’t have far to go, but in his state, Jesus fell several times. The narrow streets were lined with onlookers, a mixed crowd. But after one fall, women, weeping for him, stooped to mop the sweat and blood from his face and eyes. To them, he gave his last prophecy.

“Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but for yourselves and your children. The days are coming when they will say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us’! And they will envy those women who had never suckled and were barren. For if these things are done when the wood is green, imagine what will happen when it is dry?”

These words were strange, and they would have never known what they meant. It meant that if a thing like this were happening while he was still alive, then worse would surely follow his death.

Indeed, if the holy city could witness the execution of the Messiah, then it was doomed, and decades later, a rebellion was smashed by the Roman, fulfilling this odd prophecy made by Jesus. The Romans tore the temple to the ground. The sadistic battle waged by legionaries engaged in a massacre, and only the outer courtyard wall of the temple was left partly intact. It ended with the last diaspora of the Israelites. They would not return to power until 1946 CE.

There were many ways by which Rome put prisoners to death. A citizen of Rome was rarely crucified, and then only in extreme cases. Usually, they had a choice: death by spear or arrows or beheading. They were dishonorable deaths but far less so than crucifixion. They had other ways, often devised to extract excruciating pain and suffering. One was skinning a prisoner alive. Because so many nerve endings were torn and exposed, the condemned screamed until they lost consciousness. The problem with it was that even Roman spectators walked quickly away. It ruined the whole reason for public execution: to scare and sicken others and to keep them in line.

For Jesus and the two thieves, the method was crucifixion. This was the death slaves and thieves and political radicals suffered, a grotesque and pitiful sight, but one that effectively deterred crime.

It was obviously painful, but the key to its success came from the time it took for a crucified man to die. In other territories, it was sometimes the better part of a day, and watching the final stages was unforgettable. The nudity, the cold, the sun, the biting insects…

Because the cause of death was seldom from blood loss. It was worse than that.

In Judea, and especially Jerusalem, it is a matter of debate as to whether the crucified were nude or not, but it is doubtful. Loin wrappings or some kind of concealing cloth was allowed. Nudity was very taboo. But when Jesus reached the site of Golgatha, trailing behind Simon of Kyrenia, who had been forced to carry the crossbeam once Jesus could not go any further, the soldier with the sign dropped it. One of the thieves was already on his cross, the other being nailed to his crossbeam, or the patibulum. At least four upright beams already stood in the Rocky ground, right outside the northwest gate, at the crossroads to Joppa. Simon had the patibulum yanked away. It was thrown on the ground, and he was pushed away into the onlookers. Jesus, exhausted, rested his hands on his thighs. It was almost finished.

He had been true to his words at the Last Supper. The Apostles had scattered, in fear for their lives, and Simon Peter had denied three times to accusers that he didn’t know Jesus.

Now, it was time for reckoning. Judas, having been left behind by Satan, was alone, sobbing and full of remorse. He heard of the death sentence. Whatever he thought before, he now had innocent blood on his hands. The memory of their talks, of the gentleness of Jesus, haunted him. He ran outside of the city as if he were being chased by a beast and ran until he couldn’t go any further. On the rim overlooking the Hinnom Valley, he saw a few stunted trees. He used the sash or belt from his cloak and hanged himself. He did not know about weight or drop distance, and he died in agony. After a few minutes, his knot failed. He fell down the slope and landed on a large rock, his gut splitting open. The priests would use the money they had paid him to set aside a potter’s field, where the poor could be placed in ossuaries. They came to call it “the field of blood.”

“It is finished”

The Romans had adopted crucifixion from the Phoenicians, but its origin remains unclear. It is thought to have originated in Babylon or Assyria, but it’s not really known. Even scholars who find evidence of Alexander the Great passing it on to Phoenicia still believe that scourging was a compulsory part of crucifixion, but not in Roman use. The purpose, besides deterring crime, was to make a condemned man suffer in public. Death could occur in hours or days, but in or near a populous area, it served no purpose to prolong the death. They worked the cross into a perfect method of execution by watching the crowds. After a few hours, the spectacle wore thin. They left to go home. Usually, the dead were left on their crosses to rot, eaten by birds, dogs, and insects. Not in Judea; the Jews wouldn’t stand for that. The method changed. And it was genius.

Jesus was thrown to the slightly elevated rocky hill, brought down by a soldier holding each shoulder. The crown of thorns punctured his scalp, and he moaned. The worst was yet to come. The one man designated as executioner took a hammer and two cast iron nails and moved to one hand. He made sure that the arm was at an angle, the shoulder below the beam. He placed the nail against the lower wrist (in Greek, part of the hand) and drove the nail into a spot between bones. Jesus moaned with every breath. To the other hand, the executioner moved and repeated the hammering. If he executioner missed the mark and opened an artery, the prisoner would possibly bleed out. Rome tolerated few mistakes, all details were taken on with a strict plan, and if the rules weren’t followed, no soldier was safe from being punished.

Jesus held on. He couldn’t give up. There was more yet to endure. With the hands secured to the patibulum, the guards lifted the beam up to the top of the upright beam, the stipes crucis. At the top, there was a notch cut to accommodate the crossbeam. The upright was barely six feet tall. A bit of muscle let the crossbeam set into the notch. The sign listing his crimes was placed above his head and fixed in place with a smaller nail. Most of the time, the condemned would not block the sign, which in three languages read, “This is Jesus, King of the Jews. Latin, Greek, and Aramaic.

Not exactly accurate. The Latin version should begin with “hic est”, “this is” or “here is”

Now, the executioner knelt at the feet. A longer nail may have pierced both feet, or the two were nailed side-by-side. There was no need for rope. All crucified prisoners were crucified in the same way. Ropes were never necessary when the condemned was nailed in place. Their crosses resembled an uppercase “T”, and were not tall. This was quick and efficient and saved wood, which, in a dry desert climate, was a precious commodity.

And that was it. The final hours of the Earthly ministry of Jesus were here. Having been beaten, scourged, dehydrated, and now in shock, he would not last long.

The two thieves beside him on either side had not been scourged. They would last longer.

Jesus had one thing to immediately see to: he asked God to forgive them all because the soldiers had no way of knowing what they were doing. Neither did the priests, now waiting to watch him die.

Jesus then discovered that while hanging by the nails in his wrists, he could inhale but was powerless to exhale. This position and the points of support froze the muscles used for breathing and made it necessary to pull himself up, pushing down on the nails in his feet, to exhale and take a couple of quick breaths before the pain and cramping made him hang down again. The pain was too much to bear, but his mission was not over yet. There was worse to come.

As the gospels describe it, Jesus may have hung on the cross for 6 hours. Yet it is doubtful that he was alive for that long. For short periods, each of the crucified men would fall unconscious. To onlookers, they seemed dead. But suffocating woke them, forcing them to full awareness and pain and the necessity to push down on their feet and rise to breathe again.

Although the condemned weren’t beaten and flogged beforehand, a crucified man in an arid climate, going into shock, they weren’t superhuman, and this process exhausted the strongest among them. It left them dehydrated, in shock, and finally unconscious, which they would not recover from, causing asphyxiation. Of all the cruel ways of killing that humans have devised, crucifixion is one of the more beastly.

He had not been on the cross for long when he saw, almost at his own eye level, the Apostle John standing with Mary, his mother, and Mary of Magdala, whom Jesus had delivered of demons.

To his mother, he said, “Woman, here is your son.” To John he said, “Here is your mother.” It meant that John was to take her in, to take care of her, thus completing his the last Earthly business of Jesus. Now, the rest would happen.

And it was horrible. In the garden, he had prayed, asking to be spared the cup that was prepared for him. Now, we can see why. It wasn’t just the flogging. It wasn’t the mocking crowd that followed him to Pilate’s courtyard and even now stood before him, laughing at the fate of the “Messiah”.

It wasn’t even for the cross he now hung from. His shoulders dislocated, and his breathing ever more labored, God thrust upon his son something no human can possibly imagine.

Jesus was truly paying for the sins of humanity: he was actually seeing and feeling every vile act of sin ever committed, even every vile thought. It was being lifted from every guilty person even up to you and I. In those endless moments, he, as divine and without sin, couldn’t bear the ugliness and evil of it all, yet he had to because if he refused, all would perish to the depths of hell. Without this act, his whole life would have meant nothing, and we would not be able to repent. Every person. Every evil deed. Every evil word or thought. We would carry all of it to the grave and beyond. But God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, and whoever believes in him and repents will never die.

In a moment, God the Father and God the Son were separated. God could not look while his son suffered so, just as he cannot stand sin and is separated from the sinner until repentance is made.

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me, why are you so far from me? My enemies circle me and mock me…

At the height of the crescendo, Jesus called out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But God the Father and God the Son had known for eons that this act had to take place. Separation was necessary, but it hurt. And I am in awe of what a sacrifice that must have been. No greater love has anyone had than to make this sacrifice.

He would cry out that he thirsted. A soldier stuck a sponge on the tip of his javelin, dunked it into a bucket of wine, vinegar, and gall, the latter serving as a drug even though it didn’t work. Jesus turned from it and said, “Abba, into your hands, I commit my spirit. It is finished.”

There had been a strange darkness most of the day, and other sources outside of Judea recorded such an event.

It lasted far too long to be a solar eclipse. There is no record of a storm of any kind, even though screenwriters love putting thunder and lightning in their scripts.

There’s no known cause. But more amazing than that is what followed the final cry of an exhausted but triumphant Yeshua of Nazareth. Matthew wrote that the veil in the temple was torn in half, graves were split open, and that on the rocky earth where Golgatha stood, the ground cracked. There’s no record of it, but one wonders how frightened the priests in attendance had to be.

Seeing that sunset wasn’t far off, word was sent to Pilate that the bodies had to be taken down, for sundown began the sabbath. Pilate was fed up and roughly ordered this to placate these frustrating men. Already, they had sent emissaries to complain about the wording on the sign. But he had held his ground. He said, “What’s been written is what I ordered.” Now he had to send a message to Golgatha and his centurion there to dispatch the crucified. This was done by using a sturdy iron bar, swung in a lateral arc, to break the legs of the two thieves. Now, they could no longer raise themselves to breathe. In minutes, they were dead. But when the detail got to Jesus, they saw that he was dead already. They didn’t break his legs. Instead, a soldier used a spear, aimed at the heart through the ribs. The puncture caused a mix of blood and fluid to spill. This is consistent with, basically, an exploded heart, among other, similar things. A broken heart?

Joseph of Arimathea offered his own tomb to Mary for Jesus’s burial. A centurion, who had been been troubled by death of Jesus, and who now believed he was the son of God, gave the order to remove the bodies and for Joseph to take custody of the body.

The priests again asked to be seen. This was pushing it, and few Romans would have taken any more. This time, it was to ask for a guard detail to guard the tomb from robbers. They worried that the followers of Jesus would steal his body and claim his resurrection, as he had foretold.

The detail was ordered and took up its place, but nothing could stop what happened next. No man, no guard detail, not mighty Rome, and not the devil himself could stop it.

Jesus had indeed risen. Alive, body still pierced, but alive.

He told his apostles to go like lambs among wolves, preaching the good news to all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And he promised to be with them, to be with us, always.

Even until the end of the world.

Note-

Growing up as a Christian, I was fascinated by the Crucifixion. As an event that changed human history, I just didn’t get why.

I understood what sacrifice meant. But I didn’t get how killing an animal could cancel one’s sins. And sacrificing his only son, God wouldn’t really do that, would he? I accepted, though, that I had a lot to learn. But studying crucifixion and the Gospels didn’t help. I’m still not a scholar, expert, or anything, nothing at all but a sinner. Somehow, at some point, it came to me that Isiah had known centuries earlier exactly what would happen and why it had to be so.

Chapter 53 verse 6:

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

It had to be the most pain ever suffered. But Jesus did it for us. And when it was over, he allowed himself to die. But he returned, conquering the world, defeating Satan. Showing us all that, for us to conquer death, all we need to do is believe, repent, and change our lives.

He once told his Apostles, “In this world, you will have tribulations, but be of good cheer, for I have conquered the world.”

The Devil Makes Deals, But Man, Don’t You Know His Price?

All the devil asks is acquiescence; not conflict, not struggle. Acquiescence.”

Years ago, I read a story that Katy Perry had sold her soul to Satan, so that he would make her a star.

If I doubt the writer’s veracity, it’s because on the internet, stories like this are everywhere. Yet the theme, deals made with Satan, have been around forever. They go so far back that it was rumored a pope had made such a pact. Actually you could say that about almost any of the more antiquated papacies but the theme has been applied to many people from all around the world, usually famous, or of some association with historic events and medical or scientific breakthroughs.

The obvious question here is, are any of them true?

The proper answer is, I don’t know. Nor can anyone else unless they have proof. Of the deceased who had made contracts with the devil, it has been said that they are in Hell for eternity. I say, “prove it”.

But is there proof?

Many who have had near-death experiences have, if you are willing to believe them, indeed brought back proof. A notorious gangster went there and saw someone he knew, an old colleague and friend, and then more appeared. They screamed at him to go back; for him not to cross to where they were. He knew all of them to actually have died, and when he was revived, he completely changed in every way.

We’ve all heard or read stories like this. One of the more well-known concerns a pastor who had formerly been a very evil man. In a hospital in Europe, his long-suffering wife at his bedside, he awaited surgery for a perforated stomach, a condition made worse by the lining largely separating from the stomach. In other words, his stomach lining was being sloughed, much like a crab making room to grow sloughs its shell. The condition was fatal. He looked at his wife and said, “It’s time we said goodbye”.

He said two nurses appeared at the door and they told him that they were taking him to surgery. But not with a gurney; he was on his feet. He followed them into the hallway and through double doors. On the other side there was no man-made structure, just a rocky cave tunnel. The floor declined, leading down. The nurses turned into horrible demons that couldn’t wait to start tormenting him. Others moved in and surrounded him, clawing him, screaming, laughing. Finally he, an atheist,  called out to God for help.

He found himself back in the hospital,  on his back, being wheeled to emergency surgery. He reconciled with his wife, changed everything, and became a Christian pastor.

What are we to make of such stories, and how do some people react to it differently than others? Why would someone ignore such a horrific account and still deny that God is real?

And, if so many deny His existence, why then do they not deny Satan’s?

The proper answer is, I don’t know.

Back to the original question then: do people make deals with the devil, and can their meteoric rise in power and fame honestly be caused by an unseen entity?

I am not even mentioning Robert Johnson and the “Crossroads demon” as, naturally, everyone knows it or can easily look it up, but there is one thing worth saying, and it is the obvious: though he played guitar like he was born to it, things did not turn out well for him. The story has been adapted and retold ever since, and perhaps the most memorable version of the Crossroads demon was in the series Supernatural.

Fiction aside, there is a running theme with humanity, and it is that always, gods or God have been worshipped, sacrificed to, and prayed to. We seek a spiritual higher power and it is natural, much as the drive to procreate and continue our species.

There have always been unbelievers no matter what form of religion the society in which they lived held to be real. They usually pose no threat so long as they do not use their denial of higher power as an excuse to commit evil actions. No matter; they were, harmless though they may have been, often tortured and executed. Today in Islamic countries, especially Pakistan, mobs will kill anyone accused of blasphemy or apostasy, and they obviously don’t know the difference, or do they care to know.

Lately, as in the past, there has been a highly popular movement to deny others the right to their own beliefs. In my country not everyone is fine with advocating for the rights of Muslims and Eastern religious practitioners, but mention being a Christian and belief in the holy trinity, and the atheists will bare fangs and foam at the mouth.

As I have long said, certain sects, even cults, shine a spotlight on twisted Christian beliefs. Of course it overwhelms any particular spectator and causes them to see every Christian in the same light; it is the same for Muslim and any other extremist: evildoers using religious superstition to gain everything from money to earthly power and indulgences. All justified by the misuse of the Bible.

Often I use Joel Osteen as an example of a charlatan and a grifter because if you listen to him speak, you’ll notice his almost hypnotic ability to get you sentimental and therefore get your money. TV evangelical “preachers” always come around to money: they need it.

The most shameful example I can think of is when Oral Roberts wept atop his dais and said God had issued an ultimatum to him. Raise x amount of dollars, or die. I’ve looked for this video clip, and found way too many things for me to catch up on before I can write more specifically on the subject.

What strikes me is that it hit the news like any scandal should, and what a scandal it was, too: here was a man crying openly and lying his ass off. The godly ultimatum was so disgusting that some students at his “university” migrated to other places or even lost their faith.

Then something strange happened: the press pulled back.

Why the fuck would they do that?

Oh, he made the money, all right. And then some, and bragged about it just to rub it in. Like all of his kind do, from Osteen hawking his motivational CDs to Pat Robertson having telethon episodes and offering “gold’ memberships, he made money his god. His master.

Yeshua of Nazareth once said, “it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” He also said that a man can never serve two masters, God and money.

Now, if you belive in the truest sense of Christ, you take that on faith, but you should also have seen it made apparent right in front of you that gaining wealth changes a person. If it has happened to a friend, then they either aren’t your friend any longer, or there is a gulf between you, and sometimes you, being a genuine friend to him, end up being kept around as an emotional sounding board or worse. This is why Jesus likened a camel passing through the eye of a needle to a rich man gaining the Kingdom of God. The eye he was talking about was a gate in the wall around a town or city. The walls weren’t effective against an attack from a military force. But they could help keep out predators like wolves, lions, large cats and whatever else was lurking at night.

The city’s gates were often small and kept attacking cavalry in a cataract to be easily picked off by defending soldiers. But against infantry, once a gate was opened, there was little defense.

Gates would be integrated in walls or a gap topped by heavy lintels. Camels were too tall to get in under most lintels.

For the rich, it is not the money itself that’s evil. It is always the lust for more, for power, for fame that goes with it so naturally. That’s where the devil comes in, preying on our imperfections, our weaknesses. All he needs now is the handshake.

This agreement may have been in place before the acquisition of money, but whichever order they take, where there is one, the other is there as well. Anyone who follows the true teachings of Jesus will immediately get rid of the money. The poor only need so much, then they share. Give to the poor, shelter the children, feed the hungry. This has always been our highest obligation as humans, and yet it is far too rare.

Where we see unprecedented numbers of people suffering from malnutrition and death by hunger, unprecedented numbers of homeless people, and a breakdown of society from healthcare to invasive animals, and from disease, the government only makes everything worse because of an influence of wealth.

Powerful men have the money and political clout to make mass extinction a probability, not a mere possibility. It will happen. We will never be free of fossil fuel burning. Electric cars don’t burn gasoline, but the electric power to charge them is hardly green; that comes from coal-fired electrical power plants and there is no plan in place to build any more nuclear power plants. And big money continues to fight wind farms; our climate change will progress as the most dire predictions have warned. And even if every single carbon-producing source were stopped this very minute, temperatures would still climb because of what is already in our atmosphere. And yes, I believe the line, that temperature point beyond which there is no stopping widespread disaster, has been crossed. Anyone claiming otherwise is living in a different world. It is delusional to believe that we are not in serious danger. And what do some experts say will happen after the climate reaches maximum temperatures and atmospheric carbon particles (along with a wide range of poisonous chemicals which exist above the altitudes where rain can wash them back to earth)?

An ice age. One so deep that all surviving life on Earth will perish. The oceans would freeze all the way to the sea floors. We would become a glowing white marble in the vast universe. Devoid of life and hostile to anything living.

Back to the original question then: have the rich and famous made deals with the devil?

I’ll ask another: is it not possible that, in gaining fame, fortune and everything most people want, they have given up their soul to Satan, because one cannot serve two masters, God and money?

The proper answer is, Almost certainly, they have.

It is the only answer that I can give with any honesty at all. But there are plenty of things that need to be considered.

There are, for one thing, more than campfire stories that prove the existence of evil.

Let us delve into the darkness in our quest.

People have little problem with the dark side of the supernatural. I’m talking about demons, malevolent ghosts, curses, inexplicable phenomena and behavior, and all the trimmings. Frightening stuff to be sure. But what was relegated to books when I was younger has now gained major audiences online and in movies and television, and yes, music, too. Music, I might add, that cannot be disputed as to its nature. It makes all but the most jaded of us cringe indescribably.

With reality shows, everything has gotten worse. It is an age of lies, fabrications that people eat because they love to be scared in the controllable medium of theater as opposed to real life (and in cases like Big Brother, our weakness to voyeurism). Reality TV does not exist. All shows are scripted, directed. Even the most trusted news channels have all turned to ratings-raising, fear-mongering, salacious content. It’s a show, a competition to see who can get away with what. Money, remember, is always involved, at the top of the pyramid. Lots of it. Selling time for commercial ads is an industry and has been, and will be until the last transmitter goes dark. It’s about what sells. Always.

Somewhere underneath all the beer commercials, fast food, car insurance and whatever you might wish to reference, lies a truth. It is there, however smothered or massacred it may be.

What do insurance ads really do? Sure, some are funny. But they’re there to remind you of the more terrible things life holds in store for you. Injury, death. “…and if you have cut-rate insurance, you could be paying for this yourself. So get Allstate and be better protected from Mayhem like me.”

The ads are effective. The revenue says so.

Then we have part of our answer. Irregardless of the risk, a greater fear propels us to do or say or commit to something.

Even atheists fear Hell, but cannot admit it. People are less motivated to behave a certain way in life in spite of the risks. Because nothing hurts like hunger, not being able to get medicine, watching your child suffer, when there is another way. And it may be evil, this other way, but that can be put out of mind.

Pray to God, but without faith, expecting a grand miracle, and when nothing changes, curse Him. Now you’re on the dark side and whether you mean to or not, it is possible — and easy — to invoke “help” from another source.

And that source is the devil. Only, where God asks for nothing but an answer to the call for repentance and for earnest faith and prayer, the devil will stop at nothing to destroy everything you love, everything you own, and with it all, take your health and your life.

Let us choose another topic then, one we all know at least something about: summoning spirits such as a Crossroads demon, using spirit or ouija boards, engaging in seances or black summons rituals.

It’s real. All of it. When I was very young, a child, my older sister and two friends got together in her room. It was after school on an autumn day, the time of year when darkness falls too quickly. With the darkness, her door shut and locked, the three girls used a ouija board. I don’t recall how much time passed, but of a sudden, they screamed and the two friends fled the house, squealing and sobbing. I’ll never be able to get it out of my head.

The conversations that followed between my sister and my parents were exclusive. But it was decided to get rid of the ouija board. My parents, in particular my father, read widely on esoteric subjects, and so for him to get down with trashing the board, he was rattled. And that means not just the board, but the box and all.

In the 1960s I never saw a plastic trash can. Nor wheels on a bin. They were galvanized steel and heavy. We had a tall one with a handle on each side which I could not carry. We had a shorter one though with a harp handle like a bucket has, and it locked down the lid when it was raised. I don’t know if I can say which one the board was in, but it doesn’t matter. I had to help my mother take the cans to the street. I know the bloody board was in there because I saw it.

Early next morning there was a loud scream. My sister was in tears and everyone rushed in, even I. On the top shelf of her closet, a stack of board games including Green Ghost, Candyland and others. Sandwiched between them, the ouija board, box and all.

My father was not one for hysterics; he had a more hands-on approach. When frightened or angered, he got physical. With us. This wasn’t one of those times. This was bigger than him. He broke the board in half, crushed the planchette, and even tore the box in half. Back to the trash can and out to the street it went. Next morning, it was whole again, back on the shelf, and by now, after all the time gone by, I feel sympathy towards them. I was too young to get what was going on, and although scared, I couldn’t fully understand why.

After that, my father decided to burn the board. Some say that if a board comes back, a foul spirit is actively attached but trying to get away from the board, so burning the board releases the demon.

Someone should have told my parents that.

I was with him when he did it. Our house got cold quickly on autumn nights, and when fuel oil for the furnace was low, a fire was a big deal. I’d sit on the hearth until my back was dangerously hot. Ah, to be warm again.

He broke the board, tore the box, threw them into a roaring fire, and the plastic went, too. And it worked. The ashes did not reform into a board. But the flames as it burned were remarkable: green or blue, I don’t remember which, but I asked what it meant. I know now. Now, I know.

My sister never said what happened that night, refused to speak of it. Her friend Sherry never visited again. The other friend’s family moved clear across the country.

Things began to turn really nightmarish in the house. A younger brother, years later, said he’d had a vivid nightmare and got up to seek comfort from our parents only to be confronted by a “midget” who terrified him. As he tells the story of that night now, it was not a midget (what little people were called back then) but a child-size shadow person, black with shining red eyes. The shining eyes, he says, were like an animal’s at night when facing headlights.

A younger sister saw what she described as the Frankenstein monster walk past her door in the middle of the night. The abuse intensified. The shadow thing I’d been so terrorized by seemed to influence mother, and I occasionally saw a much larger shadow, in the shape of a man, outside my parents’ bedroom door.

In the literature of theology this epic timeline indicates a small, weak demon being fed by fear and anger it caused and growing stronger and larger.

Our father had a story he told: he’d once been in business with a partner, building and landscaping somewhere in Northern North Carolina or Southern Virginia. He said the partner double-crossed him, and he killed his partner and disposed of the body. It is probably a lie, but he was every bit as capable of it as any other sociopath who’s violent and has a bad temper.

He had, by then, moved on to his third wife. First came Janey, whom I cannot find any information on. It is not known if they had any children. Then came the second wife whose name I guard with my life. She is my step-mother, as is Janey. I’d love to meet them both.

But what happened between or before wives, I don’t know. Bad things, to be very honest. He was troubled, but intelligent. He was also a schemer, a pervert and an abuser very early on. Two wives had to run away from him.

By the time he married my mother, and I was born, he had come into some money and moved two years later to the new house in Maryland. Some would find my guess that he made a deal with the devil to be a bit fantastic, but is it?

There is very scant evidence of the dead partner story, but in that business, the two evidently did some of the manual labor themselves. Father had masonry tools like a flat shovel and a hoe that concrete had been allowed to dry on. Had he laid concrete over the grave site and tossed the tools in his car to make his hasty getaway?

This is why I printed silly versions of conspiracy theories before this essay. It is so tempting to play detective even without evidence. What really happened, I don’t know. But all the events that followed made one thing obvious; he had come into a large amount of money, and would continue doing so into the 1970s. Then, by 1980, he began to lose business. By 1981, his warehouse business went bankrupt, and two years later, the trucking company became what’s known as a “fallen flag”: it was no more.

I cannot help but believe that his early adult years and strict upbringing (it was a violent one), as well as his interest in the occult, somehow led to him making an unholy vow, a deal with the devil.

Then came the house in Pasadena, Maryland. It would soon be filled with screams, sobbing and foulness.

What I believe is that so much evil dwelt there that the suffering would never stop, only get worse, and it did. A younger sister was sexually abused with such harrowing perversity that I still cannot print a description of it. Another younger sister ran away, eloped, and infuriated our parents because they had lost control. My father held a .357 magnum, loaded and cocked, to my head and told me that if I had broken the code of silence, he would find out, and kill me (I had indeed broken The Code of Silence, but the law did not handle it well).

I also, after many years of contemplation, believe that the evil entity in my room had been attached to either or both parents, and came with them to their new house in 1962. It soon picked me as a target to terrorize, and became more powerful.

My parents had mental issues, obviously, but that doesn’t account for everything. What happened, what I’ve told you, was all real.

Their handshake with the devil was done long before they got a new house, a truly new one, bought a business, built it up, had a large family, and I was there when it began to fall apart. I was in the courtroom when they were placed in handcuffs and leg irons with belly chains and sent to prison. Any and all remorse I ever felt for giving testimony is misplaced. Evil was dealt with accordingly.

I often sense the deep fear they had that day, of going to prison, and I do pray for their souls. I am not without pity.

Any conversation about deals with the devil would be incomplete without a recap of the subject of corruption in Christian churches, because there’s one more deal with the devil to consider, involving power, leverage, manipulation and a cult.

The rise of Christian nationalism is an unholy terror which is a clear and present danger to the people and the government, as we know it, of the United States of America. And that, my friends, means it is a global threat.

In this article from Time, I find a better detail than I can lay out for you. White, Christian Nationalism is everything that everybody should hate: white supremacy, intolerance of the freedom of choice, intolerance of healthcare and social security services, disability insurance, the freedom of women to wear what they want to (it was decided that in chambers that women must cover their arms) and to choose for themselves whether to carry a fetus or not, or even to use birth control measures. The republican party fully accommodates and panders to the church, the far-right church.

It’s a mistake. It seals the doom for democracy. Canada and Mexico will have hostiles across their borders, and not just the Texas and Minnesota gun nuts. Now, it will be a government which would gladly fire on anyone suspicious. Just as it does already with its own citizens.

Republicans cheer Russia’s war, applaud demagogues, worship at the altar of threats, wars, ethnic slaughter, forced religion, a police state, nazism, fanaticism of every shape and shade, and they are the lovers of death.

The U.K. will once again stand alone. After Brexit and with the United States under a regime, they will have no help. The conservatives there will have every excuse to stage a coup, and they’re already trying.

If you believe none of this can happen, good for you. You’ve passed your first test to qualify as one who will sit back and let it happen without dissent, without resistance, without remorse, until it’s too late. The left does push back, but in all the wrong ways, making the opposition more resolved. Who can oppose them if not you? Even the Feds are compromised. The best agents of the FBI and Secret Service are leaving, burned out because of the Trump presidency. If we all give up, we all, by our failure to resist alone, make a deal with the devil. No handshake is necessary. No promises to be asked for nor given. All he needs is for you to either not believe he’s real, or to believe but not see the dangers he brings.

My advice is, for what it’s worth, that you never seek these dark beings out. Don’t tempt them. Don’t even look for them. Stay away from Paranormal television and films, never use EVPs, never invite a spirit to write or speak through you. If dealing with the devil is possible, don’t find that out. You will not like what happens next. Stay out of the darkness. Avoid gossip the same way you avoid fire. Treat others with respect and dignity.

And when you miss the marks that define honor, make up for it. Admit that you are wrong, make amends if you can, pray and meditate on it. A sincere apology can greatly lessen the pain of a wound made by words.

Does the devil make deals?

Yes, “it” does. But he hates you. He hates everyone. And if you promise him, whatever he is, anything at all and do not regret it, you won’t like what happens. And the solution? Pray. Give yourself back to God. The time for that just might be running out.

Thanks for your visit here, and be well.

A Small Thing To Some, More Important To Me: The Difference Between Good And Evil

A reader who recently liked a post uses a symbol. It is a circle with a cross inside.

Top: The cross has all lengths equal, the symbol of white nationalists or supremacists; Bottom: This is the same cross broken to its true meaning. However, this version is oddly also a symbol of elections in India and the squared swastika, before being taken by the Nazi party before WWII, originally went back to many cultures and was always a sign meaning peace and good health, good fortune.
Above: Two Catholic Celtic crosses. Used as early as 9th century; thought to be (by some) as a catholic cross laid atop the sun disc to demonstrate the supreme power of the Christian God over the pagan sun god. In legend, St. Patrick himself, evangelizing in Ireland, did this demonstration to prove this point. Whatever its origin, it is not a pagan cross. The arms, head and foot of the cross extend well beyond the circle, the bottom always longer than the rest, and in both Ireland and England is often engraved with the Irish lace pattern. This is unmistakable as a Christian symbol and is popular around the world.

If you use the top symbols, be aware of what they mean and please change your icon, header image or anything else used to identify your site, your social media image and anything you have used it for. This is not the time for controversial things that will only make matters worse.

If you hide behind Chist as a justification for racial and gender hatred or discrimination, please have the common decency to show yourself. Betcha you won’t. You’re probably even using a VPN. The government of the United States and other countries can find you. You’ll be added to a database of known terrorist organizations. You will not like it.

Every keyword in their DBase will see every word you write.

In your defense, may I suggest you pay attention to my posts and follow what I have been and what I am now. Not hateful. No. Not bitter. Fewer regrets. Far less shame and the strongest faith in God I have ever known. Turn to God, apologize for your past actions, believe that you’re one of the many whose sins were paid for on the cross outside of Jerusalem two millenia past. Let that man, Jesus the resurrect, be your new guide to what’s right.

in nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti amen