Vintage

Of all the things I’ve ever had to do, this walk is the hardest.  I have to watch my son be beaten and tortured beyond belief and be rejected by the people who watched him grow from a young child to a man, the same people who had patted him on the head and slipped him sweet breads when he was younger.  I am helpless to help him, and I can only watch in frustration and grief as he struggles with his last tasks…

Based on Mark 4:1-11

I have been watching, and it is my time.  This Jesus, my enemy, has put himself in my path and made himself available to me.  Fool!  His pride will be his downfall and my victory!  He is weak, tired, and lonely, and my minions have spent the last forty days tweaking his emotions and taunting him.  I have watched him walk the desert, the stones cutting his feet and the sun burning his skin.  He may be divine, but he is also human.  His humanity will be the crack in his armor that I need to bring him down.  FOOL!  He thinks that I have no power, but I do!  And since he shares the essence of humanity, when I bring him down I can take down the whole human race as well!  I am sure I can turn him to me in this condition.  I can barely contain my glee!

Today is the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade.  Again, my muse has called to me.  Unfortunately, I feel this work has been rushed due to my work schedule.  I don't know when I will be able to get back to it, so I am going to publish what I have and hope I can refine it later.  I don't want to leave this day with the image of the millions of babies, trying to make their way to Heaven after being rejected by their mothers.  The image of choirs of angels, swooping down to pick up the crying babies and carrying them to Heaven, was the image that came to my mind this morning.

See them marching Heaven-bound

Their little feet so tired from walking,

See the babes not make a sound

Looking upward, never balking

When an angel to them swoops down.

Carrying the babes in their arms,

This legion of angels takes them nigh,

Covering them with angelic charms

And kissing them softly give a sigh,

Carrying them away from further harms.

As the babes are sweetly caressed,

Their fears and pains subside,

Gently to the angels' bosoms pressed,

Their tiny tears are dried.

Gone forever is their distress.

At the Gates they are set down,

Laid gently down in sight

Of the One with holy crown

Radiant with holy light,

He smiles and laughs and bends down.

Smiling, he embraces them one and all,

And waving, motions them in,

The babes, now smiling, heed the call,

And enter their new home without sin,

Into Heaven, smiling, they crawl.

Unless you have been living under a rock lately, you have heard the brouhaha over a comment by Harry Reid, currently the ranking Democrat in the Senate.  In a recent book  titled Game Change authored by John Heilemann and Mark Halprin, he was quoted as saying that voters would vote for Obama because he was "light skinned," and because he exhibited no "Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one."  Most of the right-wing media has played this up as a racist, offending comment, while the liberal media has said it is of no consequence.  I suppose racism is in the eye of the beholder. Obama has accepted Reid’s apology, and Reid is – as the liberals always do when they want to sweep something distasteful under the rug – “trying to move forward”.

Why am I upset?  I’m not upset at the hypocrisy of the Democrats in how they treat their favored minorities.  I’m not upset at the “racism” of the comment.  I’m just more than a tad upset at the double standard of the liberal media, for this case demonstrates most emphatically how differently they treat a Republican vs. a Democrat when it comes to comments such as these.  No, that’s not why I am so upset.

I have made it a practice to pray a rosary every day.  For those non-Catholics out there, the rosary is a series of prayers, for which we use a string of beads to keep our place in the process.  While praying these prayers, we meditate upon a string of events in the life of Mary and Jesus.  As we meditate, we come to more full spiritual life.  Lately as I have been praying the rosary, especially the sorrowful mysteries, a series of images has been intruding during my prayers.  As the words I write to illustrate these images and thoughts are not found anywhere in the Bible, this is totally a work of fiction.  It is my verbal illustration of what might have happened…

(Based on John 20:19-31)

 It’s been one week – one long, rancorous week.  I was out getting food for our little cast of outcasts, and upon my return I was greeted with great excitement.  The excitement wasn’t for the food and supplies I brought, or for the fact that I returned safely.  No, the excitement, so the others said, was because they had seen Jesus!  After they calmed down enough to tell me, all I could think was “This is a cruel joke to play on me!” They assured me it was no joke;  Jesus had appeared to them, in the very room in which we were standing!  And not only had he breathed on them, but he had given them the power to bind and release sin!  This was blasphemy!  Only God could forgive sins!  And they claimed that Jesus had breathed on them, likening themselves to the creation of Adam and Eve, who received God’s breath!  This arrogance was beyond understanding!