#Great Sermon Handicap

[nycreligion]

102 years ago, hilarious "The Great Sermon Handicap" published in NYC

In 1922, Cosmopolitan magazine published English humourist P.G. Wodehouse’s take-down of the fluffy sermons of the Anglican Church. Entitled “The Great Sermon Handicap,” the satire features a scheme by his friend Bingo Little to score a big bet on which vicar in the summer retreat area of the Cotswalds has the longest sermon. Bingo has launched this scheme so that he can make a sudden show of…

[eirinstiva]

Inside information

I'm so happy with the last letter from my friend Bertie Wooster. His friend Cynthia is engaged, Wooster used his connections to try to win, Bingo has a new failed love on his history and Jeeves won a lot of money.

Maybe Bertie would have a chance to win if he made a plan together with Jeeves, but at least he tried. Butlers, maids and valets have a lot of information that even their bosses with their status can't have. Jeeves would be an amazing spy~

[may-darling]

Bertie: “Revoking my support for straight relationships until further notice. Direct all complaints and haikus at @B.Little”

If Bertie had a twitter he’d be one of those people constantly blathering about “They need to make a grocery store where kids aren’t allowed” and so forth

[appendingfic]

Okay the combination of Bertie's slang and the gambling terminology is making "The Great Sermon Handicap" unreadable

[wotwotleigh-prime]

Jeeves and Wooster vs. Plum, Part 3

The Purity of the Turf

The third episode of Season 1 is a departure from what came before in a couple of ways. First of all, it’s primarily based on two short stories instead of three: “Indian Summer of an Uncle” and “The Purity of the Turf.” It also takes greater liberties with the source material than either of the previous episodes.

“Indian Summer of an Uncle” was published in 1930, while “The Purity of the Turf” goes back to 1922. I feel like this episode makes a pretty clumsy attempt to link the two stories together—they don’t fit nearly as seamlessly as the previous mashups we’ve seen. Still, there’s a lot of good stuff here. 

The first segment of the show is actually a very faithful adaptation of “Indian Summer of an Uncle.” The differences are subtle, but some of them make a significant difference in the tone of the story. For the most part, it’s little things, like changes in the settings of various scenes. At the beginning of the short story, for example, Uncle George is visiting Bertie at his apartment, but in the show he asks Bertie to come to his club. They also have some more extended business at the Drones with Bertie’s pool game, and we get to meet a couple more of the Drones (most notably Oofy Prosser). Plus, there’s little scene where Bertie finds Jeeves chilling at the pub on his night off, which is kind of neat!  

By far the biggest difference is in the Bertie-Jeeves-Aunt Agatha dynamic, and I think it’s a shame they left some of this stuff out. In the TV version, Bertie tells Aunt Agatha about his failure to bribe Uncle George’s fiancée. Then he meets Jeeves in a subsequent scene, where they come up with the inviting-Aunt-Maudie-over scheme. Originally, these events happened in the same scene.

In the short story version, while Bertie is talking to Aunt Agatha, Jeeves tactfully inserts himself into the conversation by pretending that he thought he’d heard Bertie calling him from the next room. This gives Bertie an opening to ask for Jeeves’s advice—right in front of Aunt Agatha! She’s horrified at the notion of Bertie discussing family business with his servant, but Bertie boldly defies her, bolstered by Jeeves’s calming presence. Aunt Agatha dismisses Jeeves’s scheme and lectures Bertie at length about it after he leaves the room, but Bertie goes ahead with Jeeves’s plan.

(Later, there’s a cute moment when Bertie comments that Jeeves knows “all the family history” when he’s reminding Jeeves about Uncle George’s past fling with the Criterion barmaid. I love these little hints at how familiar they’ve become with each other over the course of the stories.)  

The TV episode also tones down the class friction between Bertie and Jeeves just a little bit, although it’s a fairly subtle difference. In the story, Jeeves seems just a tad sterner in his reproach when Bertie comments on the class differences between Uncle George and Maudie. He also gives a lengthier explanation of why he thinks they’ll be good for each other—it’s actually kind of sweet, and it shows a side of Jeeves we don’t usually see. He seems genuinely to be rooting for George and Maudie, and is not concerned about trying to pretend that this particular scheme was to Bertie’s advantage in some way.

Both the short story and this segment of the episode end with Jeeves suggesting that they pack their bags and get out of town until things blow over with Aunt Agatha, thus providing a convenient segue into the next story.

(As an interesting side note, “Indian Summer of an Uncle” was the last story in which Aunt Agatha actually appeared “on-screen,” so to speak. For the remainder of the books and stories, she was often mentioned, but her role transitioned to that of a shadowy, always-looming threat that never actually manifested on the page. Of course, we’ll see her many more times throughout the show, since it doesn’t follow the same chronology.)

The next part of the episode veers hard away from the source material. “The Purity of the Turf” was originally a direct sequel to “The Great Sermon Handicap,” aka the other story where Bertie and his friends bet on weird shit. This duo of stories took place shortly after the events of “Comrade Bingo,” which would be adapted for an episode in Season 3 of Jeeves and Wooster. It’s quite a leap back in time from “Indian Summer of an Uncle,” which takes place after Bingo has already settled down and married Rosie M. Banks.

Anyway, the only element that the TV adaptation takes from “The Great Sermon Handicap” is the presence of Cynthia Wickhammersley, who was Bingo Little’s love interest du jour in that story. Otherwise, the plot is based almost entirely on “The Purity of the Turf,” in which Cynthia is mentioned but does not appear. The other differences are numerous, so I think I’m just going to do a bulleted list:

That whole business with Lady Wickhammersley banning gambling? Not in the original story at all. As far as I can remember, she doesn’t make an appearance in either “The Great Sermon Handicap” or “The Purity of the Turf.” 

Myrtle and Beryl, Bingo’s two love interests in the TV episode, were made up for the show. Amazingly, he actually does not have a love interest in the short story version of “Purity,” having struck out with Cynthia in “Handicap.” 

Steggles is younger in the short stories. In fact, he’s a classmate of Claude and Eustace who is at Twing studying for his Oxford exams under the tutelage of the local vicar. He’s also in the choir with Harold the Pageboy, and he’s the one who commits the dirty work of slipping the beetle into his robe. 

In the short story, Bingo describes the animal and potato game that’s briefly summarized by Cynthia and one of her sisters in the TV show. He casts Jeeves and Bertie as players in order to aid his explanation, and TBH it sounds like some wildly kinky shit:

“The competitors enter in couples, each couple being assigned an animal cry and a potato. For instance, let’s suppose that you and Jeeves entered. Jeeves would stand at a fixed point holding a potato. You would have your head in a sack, and you would grope about trying to find Jeeves and making a noise like a cat; Jeeves also making a noise like a cat. Other competitors would be making noises like cows and pigs and dogs, and so on, and groping about for their potato-holders, who would also be making noises like cows and pigs and dogs and so on——”

In the short story, Bingo is the one playing golf when Steggles witnesses Harold’s sprinting abilities. He doesn’t see anything wrong with it at all, and Bertie has to point out to him why this is a Bad Thing. In the TV show, Bertie’s the one at the golf game, and Bingo is the one who points out that Steggles might nobble Harold. 

The games they bet on are different. In fact, as far as I can recall, the only ones that are the same are the Mothers’ Sack Race and the Choir Boys’ Handicap. There’s no three-legged couples’ race in the short story, no Mature Gentlemen’s Dash, and no tough gal named Hildy who breaks the strongman game. (I do wonder if Hildy was based on Madeline’s butch friend Hilda from The Mating Season, though.) Bingo doesn’t compete in any games. 

Instead, the pivotal game in the original “Purity” is the Girls’ Egg and Spoon Race. Jeeves fixes the race by bribing all of the girls to finish except for little Prudence Baxter, a “long-priced outsider” on whom he encourages Bertie to place a bet (“They tell me in the village that she carries a beautiful egg, sir.”). He then ‘fesses up to the village vicar, who disqualifies all the kids except for Prudence. There’s an adorable scene in the short story where Prudence befriends Bertie and hangs out with him for a while before the race, which is sadly 100% absent from the TV adaptation. 

Towards the end of the episode, there’s a rather awkward attempt to reconnect with the events of “Indian Summer.” Uncle George and Maudie show up at the village treat, on the run from Aunt Agatha, and ask if Bertie can direct them to the local vicar so that they can quickly get married on the sly. Of course, this is not in the original story, which wasn’t really connected to “Purity” at all.

Whew! Okay, that was a lot. I’m sure I’m probably missing some things, but that’s the gist of it. Feel free to add any major details I’ve overlooked! @cuddyclothes

[thatringboy]

Kinda of a Coming Out Rant

For context, my grandparents on my Dad’s side of the family live in a rual valley in Colorado. The town has only ~5,000 people and 2/5 of the population is religious. My Grandparents’ church, the First Baptist Church (FBC), is the largest in the valley with close to 200 members - most of them being elderly and handicapped people. The FBC does many out reach programs to people in poverty and regularly sends groups to third world countries to help deliver supplies and teach children. The FBC also holds a huge Vacation Bible School (VBS) during the summer that I grew up going to. It always has 200 or so kids from the community and this was going to be the first year I could volunteer to help. The FBC was like my second family.

Was.

Two Winters ago, before they renovated the entire campus, I think it was the Sunday after Christmas, we were listening to the Pastor’s sermon when he brought up the Coexist sign

At the time, I still had very limited access to the internet and didn’t know what the symbols meant. The Pastor was always like another Grandfather to me and I cared for him deeply, but thinking back to this memory makes me loose my respect for him.

He started reading out the symbols and he stopped on the “e” - the one with the gender markings. He then proceeded to joke and laugh about “how his nephew things he’s a girl!” and other transphobic comments.

I had no idea was transgenderism was at the time, but I knew him making fun of his niece (the trans nephew) was wrong. Of course, I couldn’t say anything, but I wish I had. I haven’t heard anything new about the niece and I hope she is doing well.

It only occurred to me during last summer - the last time I was at the town - just how homophobic and transphobic they were. I was only there for a week last year and another kid my age had cyan colored hair. He was completely straight, but simply because he had colored hair - the pastor’s daughters (who ran the Youth Group meetings) conveniently forgot about him during activities. It was total bullshit!

Flash foward to the 2019 Christmas and my grandparents drove down from Colorado to Texas to spend the Holidays with us. They’re actually on their way down for the Summer as I’m typing this, but that’s off topic.

The Holidays are going great - I was pretending to be cis, I had started rereading the Percy Jackson books and everything was really merry until my parents called me downstairs the night my grandparents had to return to Colorado. They sat me down in the kitchenette - all four adults - and proceeded to ask me questions about my faith in Jesus and why I felt the “need to want to be a boy”.

I was appalled! My own parents had outed me to my grandparents! I didn’t want to come out to them until after I had started my transition!

And to this day, whenever my dad gets onto me for not being trust worthy and hiding things from him, I think of this.

My grandparents legitimately think that I am dammed and will go to hell for “wanting to be a boy”.

I didn’t think it could get any worse until earlier today when I was doing the dishes. I started thinking about how I’d be stuck with my grandparents for a while this up coming week, which isn’t a bad thing! I love them and their 50th anniversary is coming up! I’m just pissed at my parents for telling them that I’m trans.

And then I remembered the FBC of their town.

My grandfather is a Deacon at the FBC and does the morning prayers on Sundays. Many people share prayer requests about family members to the congregation and they all pray about it together.

I realized that there is a good chance that my grandparents also outed me to their church, my use-to-be home away from home. Am I anxious about that thought? Extremely so. A little nauseous actually.

Even though my grandparents mean well and love me with the bottom of their hearts, my beloved secret is no longer mine to share.

I’ve never had the chance of coming out to my immediate family because my parents check all of my electronics on a regular basis and give me privacy “only when I’ve earned it”, so my fricking youtube algorithm outed me. I was really looking forward to one day going to my grandparents in my early 20′s - already on testosterone - and proudly say:

“Nane, Papa, I am your grandson, Percy.”

But I don’t get to do that anymore.

Coming out is scary and hard and can change a person’s life. I don’t get the chance to come out and it hurts. It hurts more than the dysphoria I get when on my period. I’ve been betrayed and my trust in my parents is gone. It has been gone for a while and they don’t even know it.

So to all of you who know someone who is LGBTQIA+ who trusted you with the knowledge of their gender/sexuality, listen up:

Please don’t out them.

Please.

Even if it means having to misgender them in public and you later calling to apologize, don’t out them before they’re ready.

Put in the effort to keep your loved ones safe.

Think before you speak. Think before you post. Think before you out someone.

We all just wanna Coexist.

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc II: Watt Outta Hell (12)

Chapter 12: We Meet Underworld Justice. Meaty, Crispy Underworld Justice

           One of the nice things about the First Circle is that since it’s for lesser sinners, they don’t punish you nearly as bad as they would in some of the other places. Take the poles F-Bomb and I found ourselves tied to, for instance. They had adjustable seating and a massage option, which I eagerly took advantage of. Real nice, considering the hall of condemnation we now found ourselves in looked like every heavy metal album cover ever made. But the weirdest thing of all was it reminded me of church, somehow. The whole place was just a very long , dark, edgy hallway covered in stained (though with what, I never found out) glass windows with a pulpit at the very end. Raposa settled her rear into this pulpit, while F-Bomb and I were put down in front of it, a pair of sinners put down before the Lord. Behind us, rows upon rows of underworld denizens were crying for our blood in every tongue imaginable. Though if our punishment was church, I did have one advantage: Miss Princess couldn’t make this place duller than Father McAllister’s sermons if she tried (thanks to that guy, I know more about cubits then I will ever care -or need- to know).

           Unfortunately, it was special moments when the luck of the Tostigs tended to bail on me, and being tied to a stake in front of a pulpit, with a grape juice swilling devil princess looking into your soul was one of them.

Having sucked the last ounce of delicious liquid from her sippy pouch, she raised the thing as if to make a toast, somehow hushing up everyone in the hall.

“Alright losers, listen up! These horrible souls have committed one of the greatest sins of the zeroth circle: Parking in the handicapped space without actually being handicapped!”

Once more, the crowd booed us.

“But believe it or not, I’m feeling generous today, so I’m gonna let these NERDS pick their own poison!” She turned to us (though more to me, since F-Bomb was still moping over sailor Woon’s betrayal) “Listen, kid, you have two options, you can either have the usual punishment we give people like you-“

“Which is what, exactly?”

“Pulling out your bones, pulverizing them in a blender, and feeding them to the homeless as protein shakes.”

I don’t know what my expression was at the time, but whatever it was, it made the Hell Princess smirk, revealing her rows of serrated teeth.

“Or, you can get a surprise punishment, as suggested by our live studio audience!” She gestured to the crowd, who proceeded to roar with applause.

I turned to my friend, hoping for guidance.

F-Bomb sighed “Just go for the forkin’ surprise. Half those forkin’ ballots are usually just plain forkin’  ‘torture’ ‘cause nobody here knows how to be forkin’ origional, anyway.”

I nodded in agreement “Yeah. Surprise us.”

“In that case… Stensa, bring me the SKULL OF HORRIFICALLY UNSPEAKABLE CONDEMNATION OF ETERNAL DARKNESS!!!!”

The crowd roared as really bad wedding music began playing, followed by a devil that looked like a very ugly, hairless dog sauntering down the aisle with a skull in its paws. At least, I assumed they were paws. They looked like they’d been sharpened until they were pointy hand-spikes. When he reached the pulpit, I saw the head of the skull had been hollowed out, its’ noggin filled with folded pieces of paper. Raposa reached into this fishing her hand around in a way that reminded me all too much of the times Grandpa took me to bingo night.

“And the punishment is…” The music mercifully stopped, replaced by a drumroll that made my heart race.  

Silence. Raposa squinted at the paper, trying to read it.

“W-Were-“

“Werebacon.” The creature that called itself Stensa replied “It says Werebacon. Sorry the handwriting’s bad, but it’s kinda hard to do when you’ve only got stumps.” He showed them off.

For a brief moment, the crowd was no longer on F-Bomb, now staring down the helpless little devil.

“Stensa,” Raposa called, gesturing with a finger “Come here please.”

Shaking, the pathetic dog-thing stepped up to the podium. “Yes, your Unholiness- accckkk!”

The crowd watched in awe as Raposa chocked the demon using only a single hand. Some even took out their cameras to commemorate the event (or just get a spot on ‘Underworld’s Funniest Home Videos’).

“Stensaaa…,” Raposa began, her voice sounding way too much like A-Hole for it to be anything good “What did I tell you about putting joke requests in the SKULL OF HORRIFICALLY UNSPEAKABLE CONDEMNATION OF ETERNAL DARKNESS!!!???”

Stensa tried to eke out an answer, but by that point his eyes had rolled back so far I could see where they attached to the skull.

Then Raposa’s face changed. It became all sharp and pointed, like it was made of glass shards. Poor Larry was being shaken around like a rubber chicken in an earthquake. “You do not put joke answers in the SKULL OF HORRIFICALLY UNSPEAKABLE CONDEMNATION OF ETERNAL DARKNESS! I THOUGHT we went over this already! Also, don’t call me ‘Your Unholiness’ my name is Raposa, you moron!”

With one final snap of what I assumed was Larry’s neck bones, the dread princess tossed his body to the floor so hard it cracked on the tiles. But you want to know what he really crazy part was? Larry got up again, head still dangling limply from his neck, like it was nothing, and said

“I was going to say it wasn’t a joke answer. Werebacon’s a real thing. Bacon bitten by werewolves, I think. They sell it at Wegmart for 2.99 a pound.”

“AND HOW WOULD I KNOW THIS IS TRUE?!” Demanded the Hell Princess.

Larry shrugged “It’s called going to Wegmart? Dumba$$.”

And that’s how we got a fifteen minute recess while Raposa went to check this stuff out. Since everyone went outside, taking bets on whether she would actually find the werebacon or not, that meant it was just F-Bomb and I in the hall. All was quiet, save for the soft rumbling of my stake, which I’d set to ‘massage’.

Then, out of nowhere “Well, now forkin’ what?”

I looked around to see where the voice had come from.

I shrugged, or tried to.  “Well, who knows, if those anime you’ve made me watch has taught me anything, maybe we’ll unlock some secret superpower to save our butts at the last minute.”

F-Bomb smiled a bit at that.

“Well, at least you’ve been learning, Watter-chan.”

“And as a matter of fact, I think I feel a new power coming in…NOW!”

A great force surged through me before coming out as a weak toot from my behind.

Just like that, F-Bomb got all sullen again.

“Whelp. We are FORKED.”

“But you can bet your toe claws we aren’t going down without a fight!”

.   .   .

As if on cue, in walked Raposa and her posse of subjects. In her hand she carried a reusable shopping bag made of flayed human skin.

“Hey guys, guess who just brought home the bacon?!”

“Uhh…you did?”

The Hell Princess smiled at me, flashing her serrated teeth. “If that was you trying to be funny, then you failed miserably and you should feel bad.” She took out the the demonic delicacy. “Now, prepare to DIE!”

“But we’re already-“

“It’s an expression, nerd! And just for that, prepare to ULTRA die!”

“What’s that even-“

“Turd,” F-Bomb hissed “please just shut the fork up for one forkin’ second. I’m not exactly in the mood to get SUPER MEGA ULTRA killed.”

           From there, Raposa and company wasted no time. With the press of a button the whole place rumbled, the ground beneath F-Bomb and I sinking lower and lower until we were stuck in the bottom of a funnel-like pit, kind of like the ones where Romans fed their prisoners to lions. On the rim of the pit, glareing down at us fierce, the crowd was going crazy, chanting “EAT THEM! EAT THEM! EAT THEM!” while punk rock with a lot of brass in it blared loud enough to make my ears explode. For some reason, this reminded me of the time my parents took me roller skating. Maybe it was the flashing strobe lights.

           Moments later Raposa stood on the edge of the pit, wearing a black and white referee shirt and carrying a microphone in one hand. “Hellspawn and gentledemons!” She clamored, her voice so loud even at the bottom of the lit I could hear it clearly. “Are you itching for a fight?”

She paused, just long enough for the crowd to holler their all too enthusiastic response.

“’Cause boy do we have about tonight! On the left side of the arena we have the dastardly duo, the irredeemable of irredeemables, Mr. WEENIE AND WEENIE HUT JR!”

Cue the crowd booing and throwing Dora the Explorer DVD box sets at our heads.

“And on the other side, the greatest breakfast meat in this underworld, this continent, I daresay even this universe… WEREBAAAACCCCOOOONNNNN!”

She threw it, still in the package, into the pit, where it hit the ground with a hearty SLAP!

The crowd, as expected, went so nuts they literally started turning into peanuts, which the other demons tore apart and began eating. Despite having not eaten in a few days, I wasn’t really jealous of them. If communion at church taught me anything, it was that drinking a guy’s blood and eating his flesh was a very overrated experience.

“Hey!” I screamed, trying to buy us time “C-couldn’t you at least cook it first? I don’t want to die by raw bacon!”

Amazingly, Raposa somehow heard me over everything else that was going on. “Oh, we’ll cook it alright… in unhallowed moonlight!”

           A disco ball the size of the Hell Princess’ ego was lowered into the arena, its’ sparling light nearly blinding me. Slowly, but them more quickly, I could see the bacon begin to change. Something on the inside pushed and shoved against its’ plastic prison, struggling to get out, like a bag of popcorn in the microwave. And if microwave popcorn has taught me anything, it’s that once the package explodes, things go downhill fast. (Then again, this was at a time when I thought you didn’t take popcorn bags out of the plastic before microwaving them.)

“Couldn’t you at least untie us?!” I pleaded, giving my best puppy dog eyes.

“Suck it, NERD!”

And wouldn’t you know it, that was it! You see, I’ve always been a twig my whole life, and with the competition and being cast in the woods and all, I didn’t exactly have the time to eat stuff. So all it took was one suck of my guts and I slipped out of my ropes. Followed up with a slash of the old toe claws,  F-Bomb was free, too. Meanwhile, the package had swollen  tall as I was and still the werebacon couldn’t escape.

“Oh, screw it!” Hollered Raposa. With one well-placed toss, a pair of the sharpest scissors I’ve ever seen sliced right through the plastic packaging, sticking in the Earth with a Tong! From there, the werebacon burst out, looking furry and crispy and horribly overcooked.

“So, uh, any ideas?” I asked F-Bomb.

“Well, we could always run for our lives.”

I shrugged. It was as good an idea as any.

[ucnk]

A Peep Into English Poetry

Poetry of John Dunne and Milton

The period from John Dunne to Milton spans just half a century. Both poets are considered among the foremost English poets and have an assured place in the history of English literature. John Donne lived from1572 - 1631, while Milton lived from 1608-1674. For some time the life of both poets overlapped. Both poets have made a mark in English literature. Milton became famous earlier and the value of John Donne as a poet was recognized much later. In fact a good 200 years later.

John Dunne

John Dunne was a satirist, lawyer and cleric in the Church of England. He is considered one of the foremost exponents of metaphysical poetry. Metaphysical when applied to poetry means poems with love, science, romance and sensuality integrated with man's relationship with God. These poems are lyrical poems containing intense meditations. John Dunne was greatly influenced by the church as such his poetry had a religious bent.

Metaphysical poets

Along with Dunne the other metaphysical poets were George Herbert (1593-1633), Andrew Marvell (1621-1678) and Henry Vaughn. They had their own distinct styles which was sensual and included love poetry, religious poems and sermons. The Metaphysical poets were overtaken by the romantic poets a century later. Marvell had a connection with John Milton. He was his secretary and once when Milton was jailed during the Restoration; it was Marvell who had him set free after he had petitioned for his release.

The poets Andrew Marvell and George Herbert never published their poems during their life time and their verses were published posthumously.

John Milton

John Milton who lived during the same period was a scholarly man of letters. He was also a civil servant for the Commonwealth of England, led by Oliver Cromwell. His monumental work 'Paradise Lost' puts him in the top bracket of English literature. Milton had the mortification of losing his eyesight towards the end of his life, yet he took it in his stride and there is no remorse or self pity at this handicap being thrust on him.

In contrast to John Dunne and his compatriots, Milton was not a metaphysical poet. Though he lived during the same period his style and themes were of an entirely different genre. Milton concentrated on social issues and religion. In his epic 'Paradise Lost' Milton's goal was to justify the ways of God. His primary aim was to explain the ways of God to man.

Milton achieved international recognition during his lifetime. During this period he wrote 'Areopagitica' a condemnation of pre-publication censorship. Milton was an erudite man and wrote in English, Latin and Italian.

Milton and Dunne's interpretation of Mans Relationship with God.

Milton and Dunne are studies in contrast. Milton in 'Paradise Lost' recounts the fall of man in the Genesis. He relates graphic conversations of Adam and Eve with God. He describes the demons and their exile to Hell. Donne on the other hand in 'Holy Sonnet XIV' creates an entirely different scenario. He illustrates man's utter dependence on God. John Dunne was highly religious and his poetry brings out the rationality and beauty of faith in God.

Both the poets thus wrote poetry touching two different aspects of man's relationship with god. The fact is that both poets had god as a central theme, though they interpreted man's relations with the almighty differently.

Milton and Politics

Milton was aware of John Donne. He travelled every day from school to home and crossed St Paul's. In all probability he listened to the sermons put on during this time by John Donne. Milton's poetry had a different approach from Donne and the Metaphysical poets. He was more alive to the political scenario of that period.

England was in turmoil with Cromwell and Milton sided with him. Cromwell is a towering figure in English history and at that time he was all powerful. That may have rubbed off on Milton, as he sided with Cromwell. John Donne was not that politically inclined, influenced as he was more by the church.

Last Word

Poetry of both poets Dunne and Milton is a treasure. The short period saw other poets emerge during the time of these two poets. Nothing however matches the luminosity of these two. Both poets made the English language richer and now almost 400 years later we can appreciate the greatness of these two poets.

[gritandgrace40]

TEND YOUR GARDEN

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Quiet time as a tool.

By: Emily Miller

For the past few months, my family has been house hunting. It’s a seller’s market here in Florida (and most of the US), so every time a house made an appearance on Zillow, we would make an appearance at that house.

One of the first homes we saw had half an acre of beautifully landscaped gardens and lawn. I rarely allow myself to get attached to something until I examine it from all angles, but, at the sight of those gardens, I was very attached. (There was even a gasp and some tears involved.)

After the first love faded a bit, my pragmatic side reasserted itself and I pondered the reality of the time, effort, and tools required to keep such a garden lovely. I didn’t need to imagine much because, on that same property, there was a large shed devoted to a couple mowers, trimmers, edgers, wheelbarrows, shears, and an assortment of other gardening items. I concluded that, if we were to live there, our evenings and weekends would be spent landscaping.

We did not get the house (though we tried) but that garden left an impression on me.

I think my soul is like a garden. It’s a wild thing, constantly growing and changing. When left to itself, it rambles past its proper boundaries, chokes itself with weeds, and becomes littered with treacherous and barren places. When well-tended, it submissively thrives in its place, free of unhealthy growths; a beautiful refuge.

Souls -like gardens- take time, effort, and the proper tools. Thankfully, we don’t tend our souls alone.

When we believed in Christ, we went from being a forsaken wasteland to a new creation, filled with the blood-bought life of Jesus. (2 Corinthians 5:17) He’s the source of our life and the great Gardener: planting us in place, providing what we need, and pruning us to make us more and more life-giving. (John 15:1-8)

He also gives us a role in tending our own soul. He strengthens those who seek Him (2 Chronicles 16:19), He calls us to guard our hearts (Proverbs 4:23), and He transforms us as we obediently renew our minds with His word (Romans 12:2). He supplies the life, and we participate in the gardening.

God also provides us with the tools we need to nourish and tame our souls. These tools are as numerous and varying as those in that garden shed: The Bible, Christian community, devotionals, blogs, the Quiet Time Companion, prayer, fasting, worship, giving, memorizing, and a daily quiet time are all available to aid us in this task.

Unfortunately we can easily value the tools for themselves, instead of using them for their intended purpose. Like an enthusiastic collector with an impressive shed and a neglected garden, we amass seminary, books, journals, sermons, and devotionals. We can show off our knowledge and neglect our godliness. We can buy stacks of Bibles that we never read. We can get a degree in theology and never become like Jesus. When we value tools for their own sake, their whole point is lost.

My neighbor is an expert gardener. With discarded sticks he builds glorious trellises, brimming with squash and exotic fruits. He has no shed and few tools, but his backyard overflows with life resulting from the hours of effort he gives to it daily. He is skilled in using what he has and committed to his task, and so his garden flourishes.

Tools are only as good as the time, effort, and consistency with which we use them. This is good news! This means that the Bible is for the illiterate who cherish what they hear, and not just seminary students. This means that the mentally handicapped soul who loves Jesus knows Him better than the apathetic theologian. This means that if you’re applying the little you know of the Gospel to your life, your soul is better tended than those who have memorized scripture and don’t live it out.

The purpose of daily time spent reading the Bible is to weed out our sin, water our souls with life-giving truth, and root ourselves more firmly in the great love of Jesus. When we do this in participation with and reliance upon the Holy Spirit, He transforms our sin-filled desert into a life-giving garden.

A quiet time is a tool, not an achievement to show off. Studying the Bible is not a new year’s resolution that we buy stuff for and then neglect. Devotion to God is the goal; not devotions for devotions sake.

[mrdaddyskool]

I have not journal for an extended period. I have been rushing in the last 6 years, rushing to meet daily tasks and rushing to take care of children.

I was divorced in 1 April 2020. The pain is very real. I miss my children. I cry often. Yet, I numb myself to sleep playing handphone games in the first 3 weeks.

I read in a Facebook group where there were a group of ladies who divorced. I signed up and was granted access.

I had also watched many videos to distract myself. Previously, taking care of 3 kids drives me tired at end of the day. Now, I stare at their photographs and yearns for them.

I had stopped smoking many years back. Last 10 months, I would meet a colleague and we would drink probably once every 2 weeks. Coping? Distraction?

A counselor once shared with me to journal my thoughts. I heard her but did not put to practice. Today, I am giving it a go. I have many thoughts, not sure what to write.

I have heard a song, 10000 reasons. It is a Christian song, kinda from a rocker band. It sounds genuine.

I may not be able to write 10, 000 reasons, but I am grateful.

Reasons for gratefulness

1. I am ambulant, and able to walk.

2. I have eye sight. Although I wear spectacles, but I know of at least 972 persons with visually Handicap, and I am aware of some of their strengths and struggles.

3. I am sound mental health. The Lord allow rest and He carries my worries. Though He slays me, yet will I trust in Him. I am learning to meditate, and to hear and meditate on Christian sermons from sound doctrines such as Dr Charles Stanley.

4. I am a young child in my emotional awareness. I have a very bad temper since marriage in 2003 and it is a sore point, a tender spot. I started reading anger management, but it gotten worse. I tried counselling, but my pride and ego resisted big time. It took a crisis before God showed me my feelings, my fears, my shame and my guilt. The breakthrough came in I believe November 2019, when the counsellor in Care Corner Divorce Specialist Centre process with my primary and secondary feelings. I had suppressed my feelings for a pretty long time, and to engage my guilt and anger is a milestone in my emotional journey.

5. My friends and my colleagues

I am surrounded by great and kind hearted people. My colleagues, professional counsellors and social workers, occupational therapists and church mates, have unconditional regard, allowing me to share my thoughts, hurts and values. My ex- supervisor had visited me and processed with me on my expectations, that of on myself, that of others and that of others on myself. My group of male prayer mates, who will pray for each others and their families, and they really yoke with me.

6. Professional Interventions

Unashamedly, I have both being a worker in Family Service Centre, a disability organisation. I am also a recipient of Family Service Centre, a Church of Our Saviour Christian counsellor, and Care Corner Divorce Specialist Centre.

El custodiet ipos custodes? Who will guard the guards?

But in social work, self worth, self efficacy, organisational skills, reframing and being genuine, there is much I have benefitted from interventions and supervisions.

May the Lord grant me strength and wisdom to grow my emotional self and acquire skills in mindfulness and communication.

[nycreligion]

102 years ago, hilarious "The Great Sermon Handicap" published in NYC

In 1922, Cosmopolitan magazine published English humourist P.G. Wodehouse’s take-down of the fluffy sermons of the Anglican Church. Entitled “The Great Sermon Handicap,” the satire features a scheme by his friend Bingo Little to score a big bet on which vicar in the summer retreat area of the Cotswalds has the longest sermon. Bingo has launched this scheme so that he can make a sudden show of…

[eirinstiva]

Perfect storm

Letter!!! Bertie Wooster sent a letter and I'm already scared because maybe Bingo Little will be here~ Brace yourself, this can get rummy...

Claude and Eustace are so dangerous together, I like that, the image of them doing stupid things like in the manga Please, Jeeves (by Morimura Tamaki and Katsuta Bun) lives rent free in my heart.

I handed this to Jeeves. He studied it thoughtfully. “What do you make of it? A rummy communication, what?” “Very high-spirited young gentlemen, sir, Mr. Claude and Mr. Eustace. Up to some game, I should be disposed to imagine.” “Yes. But what game, do you think?” “It is impossible to say, sir. Did you observe that the letter continues over the page?” “Eh, what?”

Jeeves has Kowalski vibes~

Great pals we’ve always been. In fact, there was a time when I had an idea I was in love with Cynthia. However, it blew over. A dashed pretty and lively and attractive girl, mind you, but full of ideals and all that. I may be wronging her, but I have an idea that she’s the sort of girl who would want a fellow to carve out a career and whatnot.

Bertie has a girl friend, a friend who is a girl, a friend called Cynthia~ that's cute. I really like to read about friendship between people of different gender.

“Young Bingo Little. Great pal of mine. He’s tutoring your brother, you know.” “Good gracious! Is he a friend of yours?” “Rather! Known him all my life.” “Then tell me, Bertie, is he at all weak in the head?” “Weak in the head?” “I don’t mean simply because he’s a friend of yours. But he’s so strange in his manner.”

Well, Cynthia has an opinion™ of Bertie and his friends, but there's a chemistry between them like ex lovers turned into friends, or that weird relationship that some people have this their first boyfriend/girlfriend/idon'tknow that can be so cute and weird at the same time. I love that kind of relationship. Platonic? Maybe, I can't find the words right now.

“Well, you might have let your pals know where you were.” He frowned darkly. “I didn’t want them to know where I was. I wanted to creep away and hide myself. I’ve been through a bad time, Bertie, these last weeks. The sun ceased to shine⁠—”

Bingo is heartbroken and Bertie can't sense that. Read the room, dear Bertie~ but Bingo falls in love so easily that it's not a surprise that he fell in love with Cynthia. The surprise factor is the poetry:

“When Cynthia smiles,” said young Bingo, “the skies are blue; the world takes on a roseate hue: birds in the garden trill and sing, and Joy is king of everything, when Cynthia smiles.” He coughed, changing gears. “When Cynthia frowns⁠—” “What the devil are you talking about?” “I’m reading you my poem. The one I wrote to Cynthia last night. I’ll go on, shall I?”

Let this poor man have his morning tea!

Claude and Eustace are troublemakers with brilliant minds, but instead of to use those brains in solving problems like Jeeves, they try to earn money in a easy way. They could start their own multi-level marketing, Ponzi scheme, or even become gentlemen thieves like Raffles and Bunny (but with two Raffles and no Bunny... unless Bertie is Bunny... anyway~)

“I say, old man,” I couldn’t help saying, “aren’t you looking ahead rather far?” “Oh, that’s all right. It’s true nothing’s actually settled yet, but she practically told me the other day she was fond of me.” “What!” “Well, she said that the sort of man she liked was the self-reliant, manly man with strength, good looks, character, ambition, and initiative.” “Leave me, laddie,” I said. “Leave me to my fried egg.”

So we have a possible romance between Bingo and Cynthia, some plan of the mischievous twins, and Jeeves is interested in this deal... Is this the recipe for a perfect storm? Let's see in the next letter. Pip-pip!

[workingontruth]

Part 5 of 7: The Gospel (In Full)...Stage 3; Surrender Me

June 21, 2019

[Forgive Me. Fill Me. SURRENDER ME. Command Us. Fuel Us.]

Can the good news of the Good News get any better than the moment in time when a human soul hears the voice of its Creator, and is enlivened by that Creator to accept his invitation into a rebirth as a citizen of heaven? Indisputably not (Stage 1; Forgive Me).

Still, it is our life in Christ that is intended to bring technicolor substantiation to that eternity-shifting moment when the Holy Spirit took up residence within us (Stage 2; Fill Me). And I’m concerned these days that our default handicap as first-world, self-resourcing people is prevailing over our ability to substantiate our new lives as ones belonging to another primary citizenship.

Going right for the bull’s eye on this third stage of the Gospel (something I’ve not done so well in my two previous entries on topic), and in the words of Dr. Tony Evans which I previously touched upon in Part 2,

“Our problem today is we have Christians who want God to get them to heaven, but who do not want Him to own them on earth.” (Adonai – The Owner of All, a sermon message by Tony Evans aired on The Alternative on or around April 15, 2013)

Last minute insert:

I SO dislike that I feel this concept of surrender has to be met with such directness and seeming negativity. But, acceptingly, to make sure I’m not miscommunicating the point by going soft around the edges, I’ve chosen to do so. Nonetheless, the beauty that comes to us on the other side of surrender is not negative at all, but wholly positive, joyous and freeing! It is because we don’t really know the heart of God that we come to this topic with a spirit of trepediation. Oh, how I wish I could communicate this better.

Here’s another way to look at the surrender of which I am speaking in this entry: I’m asking us to give up our paint-peeling, wood-framed, backyard sandbox and rusty water hose for the seemingly endless, snow-white sandy beaches and aqua warm waters of the Caribbean! C’mon, man! I can honestly say the most cherished words in my vocabulary have become surrender and brokenness. I don’t believe there is any other way to experience a deep and abiding walk with Jesus but through these dual remedies. We don’t have the space or time to go into it beyond that herein, but I had to try to bring a positive notion of this precious stage of the Gospel to the fore. 

Okay, where were we…oh yes…

“Our problem today is we have Christians who want God to get them to heaven, but who do not want Him to own them on earth.” (Adonai – The Owner of All, a sermon message by Tony Evans aired on The Alternative on or around April 15, 2013)

The evidence of this truth is all around us. Look at the way most who call themselves Christians live. In a phrase, we’re long on freedom in Christ, but short on living in compliant obedience as an act of worship to a Holy God (Ps. 103:11, 112:1, Jn. 14:24). We’re long on grace, but short on purity (Phil. 1:27, Col. 1:10). We’re long on self-indulgence and short on self-denial (Luke 9:23, Heb. 12:1, Mark 8:34). We’re long on having the glory of God ride with us down the highway of life, but we’re short on giving up the wheel of control.

This tells me we don’t know God. This tells me we don’t know who we are as Kingdom citizens in our new birth. This tells me we haven’t known the deep joy of an intimate fellowship with the Holy Spirit as we walk alongside Him. And this tells me we certainly don’t know surrender. For if we truly knew surrender, it would be the sweet anthem being sung over more of our lives.

Surrender.

I address the absolute necessity of this “white flag” kind of posture before God throughout Set Free (especially in the Introduction, and in chapters 12-17, 25-29, 34)…though I never mention it as a white flag. Annnnnd...hold on just a moment here .... Haha, I just searched the manuscript; I mention surrender 92 times. I had no idea! Certainly, it’s a repetitive theme throughout…but I believe it holds the key to the Christian life. 

The Gospel calls us to the utter surrender of ourselves. How could we not if our theology of salvation is accurate? Is this not the message of Romans 6? Only as we daily reckon upon and cooperate with what God says is true of us as ones put to death and buried in Christ will we ever be able to live into its truth (Romans 6:4-7). 

If God has put our old man to death, then that slain one is incapable of reigning from the grave unless we refuse to cooperate with truth and, instead, choose to live in a lie. 

This whole matter of surrender was supposed to have been settled when we asked God to make us into a new creation by forgiving our sins, disconnecting us from our sin nature, and by recreating in us his resurrected Life. It is only we who give Satan the power to deceive us with the continual lie that we cannot trust God in ongoing surrender. 

Yes, the ongoing Christian life demands our cooperation. 

And because I cannot help myself, here’s a freebie; I just posted the very center of chapters 25-29 referenced above, Chapter 27,  HERE (scroll down the page to find Chapter 27). In it, I address the core of our inability to surrender control of our lives, and all of the evolving circumstances therein. 

I think of the 5 Stages in The Gospel (In Full), this third benchmark is our greatest challenge. But only in its wake can we find the keys to the final two stages. 

Okay, because this is the undercurrent theme of an entire book, I must limit my focus here and point you to Set Free for the extent of my heart on the matter. 

But for the purposes of this 3rd Stage of The Gospel (In Full), let’s simply say ... 

It is only through an unrestrained surrender of every part of our lives that we find the freedom God intends for us.

But this kind of surrender is not easy. It takes the Holy Spirit to help us detect the depth of the talons of self-confidence, pride and self-resourcing that cling to us if we so much as glance in the direction of our old Adam–for Satan’s lies are always ready to dog us if we allow him to turn us inward upon ourselves.

And then, in our quest to find the life of freedom and joy Jesus intends for us as his children, there are the very practical, cultural realities of our heritage–how we’ve grown up as Americans. The very taste of surrender as it proceeds from our lips is somehow detestable, not to mention culturally unacceptable.  

In our secularist dialect as Americans, surrender is a vulgar word, full of weakness, defeat and loss. As a nation, we would claim to have earned our cherished freedom through victory, not surrender. Tyrannous, controlling, power-hungry, freedom robbing regimes have needed to be kept at bay. Therefore, as freedom-loving American citizens, we equate surrender to a loss of freedom, to enslavement and oppression.

But as heaven’s citizens, everything is turned upside down. This is because the authority to which we have surrendered is the Author of perfect freedom, perfect administration and perfect joy. He is not tyrannous. He is not oppressive.

Think of it; as Christians, surrender was the initial, beautiful act which brought us out of slavery and into freedom. But somehow, too many don’t equally understand the ongoing nature of the Gospel to be reflective of a perpetual and unconditional surrender.

In short, the evidence of our lives reveals that we don’t trust God with our life … “just” our salvation.

How weird is that?! 

Notice the pronoun usage above. It speaks volumes. If we really understood the real-life, theological implications of the cross over our lives (which should be an essential part of early discipleship), we would rebel against the idea that the life we now live even belongs to us. It doesn’t. 

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. - Galatians 2:20

But until we electively deliver ourselves to him without controversy (after our having been saved), he cannot have his way with us. I have illustrated this to much greater effect in Chapter 27 (again, scroll down the page to find Chapter 27). 

No, the title deed to our lives belongs to the One who paid the full purchase price for it. It is his life.*

     * (Pardon the short pronoun diversion–couldn’t help myself.)

But we somehow think that although we gave our eternal destiny into the hands of God, we are left to living our lives here and now according to the insights of the old man God put to death when we gave our hearts to Him. Now we wouldn’t come out and say it that way, but the way we live our lives betrays us.

In short, we have an ownership problem.

I believe we all want to experience the after-effects of the Holy Spirit’s having filled us. We want the victory-aiding power of God in our lives. We want the internal, personal affirmation that this God to whom we gave our hearts is real. But, and here again is the point, until we recognize Jesus as Owner, He does not have free reign in our lives to do as He pleases (Did I mention Chapter 27 in Set Free?).

Until we recognize Jesus as Owner, we will never own a true revelation of the Spirit’s indwelling which could revolutionize the life of any Christian.

So, this begs the question,

“How then can we experience a life-changing, perspective-altering recognition of the Spirit’s indwelling?”

The tough news is that we cannot do, find or earn this. Our options are limited. There is no formula but release. There is no prescription but ongoing surrender. God is God. We are not. What we do know is what He tells us–that if we knock, the door will be opened to us. What we do know is that He will not give us a snake when we need bread, that He has purchased us with a great price, and that He desires our fellowship so much that Jesus died to gain it–rather than live forever without it. What we do know is that He desires to live through us and empower us supernaturally, differentiating us from the on-looking world, that His name be praised through our lives.

But until we own more than a surface acquaintance with surrender, we will live our lives in the in-between. Until we lose our appetite for control, until control of our lives becomes to us something nauseatingly repulsive, we will be unable to successfully live into our new citizenship. 

I think now is a good time to remind us that there are two kingdoms up and running (Jn. 18:36, 14:30, 15:19, Eph. 2:1-2, Matt. 6:33, Phil. 3:20).

It is vital new believers understand that they have been supernaturally transferred from the kingdom of darkness (this world) into the kingdom of Light (heaven). It is critical that they understand how they have factually become citizens of another place (Jn. 18:36). This is an important, foundational building block onto which their future faith and identity in Christ can anchor.

When we choose to place our trust in Jesus, our life, and thus our citizenship, is transferred over from the world (John 15:19) to a kingdom of another place (John 18:36).

But Greg, you say, why does my life as a believer still look so much like it did before I came to Christ? Why is there still a discontented ache in my life? Why am I not more satisfied as a Christian? Why can I not find this “increasing obedience” in my daily life instead of repeating the same, selfish behaviors which possessed me as a non-believer?

Dear Christian friend, if you feel your life is the poster child for James 2:17, where the bible says that faith by itself, if not accompanied by outward evidences of that faith, is dead, then you may still be holding onto your life. It may be that you cannot advance in your Christian walk with God because you are unwilling to surrender control of your life (all of it) over to God. And in so doing, you are regularly keeping the Holy Spirit living in you at bay. Study Mark 6:5-6 and Matt. 13:58 if you don’t believe our faith and trust, or the lack thereof, can keep the power of God on the sidelines of our lives.

Any way you slice it, the authentic Christian life is the one that looks like it from the outside in. If you know your life isn’t taking on the appearance of a new life, steadily increasing in surrender and taking on the character of Christ, then it is time to address this incongruence with the benchmark of an accurate theology of who you are in Christ.

James inextricably links our faith to the outward manifestations of that faith when he challenges someone who believes that an inward faith alone is sufficient in itself. 

“Show me your faith apart from your works,” he says, “and I will show you my faith by my works.” – James 2:18

A saving faith is always accompanied by outward evidences of that faith. Coming to Jesus means, in the challenging words of Billy Graham, that 

“...the Lord Jesus Christ will come into your life and reform, conform and transform you into an obedient follower. If that is not your desire, you have every reason to question whether or not you have been saved.”

Part of the Gospel’s Stage One repentance is a change of direction in how we live our lives. If God truly has our heart, then He will also have our behavior. Period. If He doesn’t have our behavior, we have every reason to question whether He has our heart.

The bible asks,

How can we who died to sin still live in it (Romans 6:2)?

But it is super important we realize God is after more than our conduct; He is after our heart.

When God has our heart and not merely our behavior, our conduct in Christ becomes joyously compulsive–and our obedience comes along for the ride by default!

Indeed, when we try to live the Christian life by pleasing God out of the shallow resources of the old man (who has been done away with when we gave our life to Jesus–Romans 6:4, Colossians 3:3), we are quenching the power source who lives within us as children of God!

When we fail to understand that the power to please God lives in us by his Spirit, we can easily revert to the thinking that the best way to abide in Christ is by earning his favor day-by-day, in what we do. And when we live this way, not only are we incapable of pleasing God, but we have lost sight of the freeing core of Christianity; we cannot earn God’s favor or proximity to him by what we do. This is as true after coming to Christ as it is prior to our coming to him for our salvation.

The only thing that gains us proximity to God is the blood of our Saving One, Jesus Christ.

So, until we let go of the self-preserving tendencies of the old man who died in Christ when we gave our heart to Jesus, we’re going to be stuck – never making it over the “hump” of the mid-stage of this Gospel (In Full).

Cutting right to the chase again, and in slightly different words than in the fourth paragraph of this entry, you may never experience deep communion and the intended freedom of the Gospel because you love your sinful self-reliance more than you love your God. I do not make this inquiry of our hearts glibly, but with a sadness of heart. There are likely dozens of scenarious that play out in our daily lives where asking this question would be appropriate: 

Do I love my sinful self-reliance more than I love my God? 

This inquiry of our hearts is a call to surrender. This is a call to help us make choices that glorify God and enliven his Spirit’s ability to mold us into whose we are! 

In closing, I want to point us to the glorious upside of surrender. When we surrender, we are set free. When we surrender, we are no longer Christian imposters before God. When we surrender, we lose fear and gain God’s confidence. When we surrender, John 15 begins to come to life for us.

Once through the marvelous inbreaking awareness of the Holy Spirit’s work in us we emotionally and subjectively understand we are not The Vine, then we are finally gaining in our journey toward an honestly fulfilling life.

Once the Spirit of God within us has been welcomed to break us, the resulting surrender frees us from the pressure of having to lead our own lives. Instead, we begin to understand how to follow–as we abide in Him, the true Vine.

In Jesus’ very words to us, he says this in John 15:1, 4-5, 9:  

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser.

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.

Then Jesus goes on to tell us that our surrendered obedience to him will enable us to abide in his love. In so doing, we will live our lives without quenching his Spirit in us. Then, in verse 11, he gives us this glorious conclusion to the matter:

These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

We can find an unmitigated, boundless, full joy that doesn’t hinge on the moment-by-moment circumstances of life when we learn to surrender and abide in the Source of our life.

And my prayer is that in this day of the duplicitous-living, ever-distracted evangelical church attender, there will be an increased emphasis on helping believers understand the theological basis behind the new life in Christ. Scripture contains plenty of Spirit-empowered illumination to help many a believer surrender once and for all to the One who purchased and rightfully owns his bride.

[whatisonthemoonarchive]

a letter spreading by Nikolaus’ son

My name is Gabriel Beutl,

I am the second son of Nikolaus and Zäzilia Beutl. First of all I would like to tell you a few words about myself. After finishing my education to be carpenter I did my social service year of helping in a hospital (instead of military service, which is compulsory in Austria) and one year of STF Europe. Then I began my full-time job in the customer service department of a big company while attending at the same time evening school in order to do my A-levels; afterwards I continued with evening studies in order to expand my professional foundation.

During the past five years I have been taking responsibility for leading the regional HARP activities in Upper Austria, giving regularly the Sunday sermons in my local community, etc.

And here I would like to start my testimony about what kind of person my father is. Whenever I prepared my sermon I shared with my dad the content; he always offered me valuable feedback how to improve the content of my sermons which were well received by the congregation.

I can say that whenever I came to my dad for advice, in whatever matter, I was not disappointed but received precious input which has helped me to resolve issues in a favourable way. I truly appreciate my daddy greatly for his wisdom which he shared not only with me but also with my siblings who are also grateful for the internal guidance received from their father. My elder brother Mikula supported our Movement’s activities for years, which includes starting the Austrian chapter of WAIT which Kate Tsubata initiated.

My sister Christiane who is presently doing her second year of STF Europe, witnessing in Albania, shared that when my father attended last spring the Parent’s workshop for STF members, he has been focused on listening to participants’ concerns, especially those who did not have a parent present on that occasion, so that afterwards several peers expressed to her what good advice they have received from her father. During that time my dad stayed longer in order to have also enough time to share with other parents and staff which I believe was appreciated. These are simple examples of my father leading a public life of serving others, which was e.g. expressed in the concluding workshop of last year’s STF, when my father was most of the time helping in the kitchen, washing dishes for STF members, although this was not at all his task as a parent participating in the concluding days of this program.

As his son, I am well acquainted with the lifestyle of my father who gets up early and works hard all day and goes to bed late, always focused on missionary life. I can testify that my dad leads a very disciplined life, which is e.g. expressed in his having managed to prepare for every day of the year a reflection to be shared with many brothers and sisters around the world – for nearly one decade now. I know first-hand through the computer program which my father is using (like my elder brother) in order to send out his letters, that indeed a couple of hundred Unificationists read his reflections every day. I am surely impressed with this substantial number of members reading daily my father’s letters.

In recent years I have been surprised how much physical work my father has invested into building the first True Love Study Home, working hard all day and spending the night hours to respond to mail, to feedback offered to his daily sharing via the internet.

I hope that through these lines you can understand more about the man behind the name Nikolaus Beutl from the perspective of a son who has experienced his heart many times personally very deeply. He was there for me when I needed him, and no matter how challenging his advice may have been, in the end I always came to realize that he was right. Please don't understand me wrong. I am not talking about trivial situations in daily life where a parent obviously knows better, but about struggles in my life of faith, in understanding the Divine Principle and God, about situations where wrong guidance could destroy a person's life of faith. He showed me many times how principles work.

His desire to share his understanding of God and True Father obviously doesn't come from nowhere but has deep roots. I can assure you his heart is dedicated to live for others and to give as much as he can. For this reason I wish for everyone to take his words seriously and not just avoid them. Because this is the heart of a brother who wants to share with his brothers and sisters, in my opinion a heart that is very close to true love, and a great example for me.

This is my personal experience of what kind of man my father is which does not correspond at all with what I have learned how he has been treated by certain WIFL members. Mental illnesses are attributed to my dad, who was even called the criminal of this internet forum. I am speechless to hear such things from my father. With my father being banned from sharing in this community, while at the same time hundreds of Unificationists including myself and my elder brother are reading his reflections in which he is sharing about his conviction concerning God’s Will.

It is painful to hear people talk things about him which could not be further from the truth, seemingly endless gossip making the round, with people adding their own phantasy and imaginations to the rumours they have heard. May I ask you to put yourself into my position as a dedicated member of our Movement who loves my dad as a true Unificationist who is sharing with people on all sides of the dividing lines? I know my father as a person who has always the patience to listen to me attentively no matter what time of the day I may reach out to him, and I am aware that this is also the experience of many others who know him personally. My daddy is a very good listener; based on this attitude he has learned much from others and is able to share a lot of insight so that literally hundreds of Unificationists have been reading his daily sharing for years. He has of course a challenging side as well, I won’t deny that. So it may sometimes not be easy to argue with him and require some time, but this makes him in my opinion also a lot more credible.

At the same time, I see that my father is ridiculed here in this group with all kinds of negative characteristics being attributed to him, whereby I know for sure that they do not correspond with reality. I admire my dad that he has always a smile on his face when meeting people, although he may be treated badly by them, especially by certain church leaders because he is speaking out against all the wrong doings he sees in our Movement. Concerning how my father is dealt with in this community I am indeed speechless and ask myself why this is happening? Can you please give me a reasonable answer as to why my father deserves to be treated in this way?

It is not only natural for me as his son to be proud of my daddy, I am convinced that he is truly a man of God who has been leading a public life of serving others for decades. I am now 24 years old, and looking back I can say that I have many beautiful memories with my dad in our hometown as well as travelling with him to other countries, in the mountains or at the seaside, of working in the forest or helping people in our village… I can testify that my father is a healthy person in mind and body, gladly working hard from early morning until late at night although he is already in his sixties. Personally, I am impressed with the patience my father is showing especially in challenging situations. He knows very well how to control his emotions and to lead a disciplined life.

In the light of these facts it seems incomprehensible for me that my dad is not allowed to share freely in the WIFL forum “because he cannot control himself so that he must be moderated, or that he is unable to communicate properly with others”. Yes, he does not like merely chatting about important questions because he is a rather serious person who prays deeply and invests from the bottom of his heart.

This I am absolutely certain, that my father is a man of word and deed. I am amazed how he could endure and go steadily forward for many years despite the opposition and persecution he has received. I know well that there are many who appreciate my father greatly, while on the other hand there are those who are eager to spread really bad rumours about him. I am aware that the truth will win in the end, while at the same time I would really like to get a reasonable answer as to why there is enmity towards my father on this WIFL site. Do members of this group really know my dad so much better than me to have the right to portray him in such a negative way?

It is my hope as a son who loves his father that you will not judge me to begin with as the son of a mentally handicapped person, but give me the chance as a brother to receive true answers to my questions based on reason, so that I can adjust my understanding of my father according to the facts you know about him. Please tell me which rule for this group my father has violated so that it became necessary to ban him from sharing in this community.

And I would also like to kindly ask to let me know why Lenka Lipkova was banned from WIFL. I got to know her four elder children when my Father organized for them to stay for one month in my hometown in the True Love Study Home for a speedy recovery of Hafey after she left the hospital. Removing Lenka from this group after merely two weeks during which she offered 32 comments, posting well under the 3 posts limit per day, seems unreasonable to me. Lenka did not violate any regulation set up for this group, yet she was kicked out. Why is that? Could you please give me a clear logical answer?

As a last note. The pain in my heart to see my beloved brothers and sister divided over the current situation is something that I can barely watch. I think a lot of brothers and sister feel the same. I do miss the heart of the movement I grew up with. The one where everybody had respect and true love for each other, not debating about what is the right way to go, but how should we go the right way. I do appreciate that my father is fighting for that and I hope from the bottom of my heart that we all can come together again as brothers and sister and have mutual respect and true love for each other.

I definitely won’t be the one to trough this away.

In gratitude for your responding to my sincere request and wishing a lot of blessing to everyone,

Gabriel Beutl

[wotwotleigh-prime]

Tag yourself, I'm Bertie's matching yellow gloves, spats, walking stick, and purse.

[priceofliberty]

Between the Great Lisbon Earthquake and the revolutionary year of 1848 the European chattering classes had three big ideas. One was very, very good. The other two were very, very bad. We're still paying.

The good one, flowing from the pens of such members of the clerisy as Voltaire, Thomas Paine, Mary Wollstonecraft, and above all the Blessed Adam Smith, is what Smith described in 1776 as the shocking idea of "allowing every man [or woman, dear] to pursue his own interest in his own way, upon the liberal plan of equality, liberty, and justice."

Admittedly, true liberalism took a long time. "All men are created equal" was penned by a man who kept in slavery most of his own children by Sally Hemings, not to mention Sally herself. Even his co-author Ben Franklin once owned slaves. In 1775, the English literary man Samuel Johnson had ample reason to launch a sneer from London, "How is it that we hear the loudest yelps for liberty among the drivers of negroes?"

But those liberal yelps re-echoed, and had force, amplified by the repeated embarrassment over two centuries of denying slaves, apprentices, women, immigrants, anarchists, socialists, communists, Okies, Nisei, blacks, Chicanos, gays, Vietnam protesters, criminal suspects, handicapped people, gender crossers, ex-cons, drug users, smokers, and citizens of the District of Columbia their own equality, liberty, and justice.

The fruits of the new liberalism, when it could make its way against the two bad ideas (wait for it), were stunning. Liberalism, uniquely in history, made masses of ordinary people bold, bold to try out their ideas for how to improve the world by testing them in the marketplace. Look around at the hundreds of betterments that resulted: from stock markets to ball bearings, from penicillin to plate glass.

The boldness of commoners pursuing their own interests resulted in a Great Enrichment—a rise in Europe and the Anglosphere of real, inflation-corrected incomes per head, from 1800 to the present, by a factor, conservatively measured, of about 30. That is, class, about 3,000 percent. The glory of Greece and the grandeur of Rome, Song China, and the Mughal Empire might have managed a 100 percent increase over a century or so, to something like $6 a day—but eventually they all fell back to the $3 a day typical since our species lived in caves.

And now, despite the best efforts of governments and international agencies to bungle the job, liberalism is spreading to the world, from Hong Kong to Botswana.

It's astonishingly good for the poor. Add up the fruits of illiberal government action—redistribution, licensing, tariffs, zoning, building permits, farm subsidies, restrictions on immigration, foreign aid, industrial policy, a third to half of income seized as taxes by the state—and all together, they might, if you suspend your economic disbelief, raise the income of the poorest folk by, say, 30 percent, one time only. Not the 3,000 percent attributable to liberalism, which continues to grow with no end in sight.

The two bad ideas of 1755–1848 were nationalism and socialism. If you like them, perhaps you will enjoy their combination, introduced in 1922 and still for sale in Europe and implied by Donald Trump's popularity: national socialism.

Nationalism, when first theorized in the early 19th century, was entwined with the Romantic movement, though of course in England it was already hundreds of years old. It inspired reactive nationalisms in France, Scotland, and eventually Ireland. In Italy, in the form of campanilismo, or pride in your city, it was older still. (Italians will reply when asked where they are from, even if speaking to foreigners, "Florence" or "Rome" or at the most "Sicily." Never "Italy.")

What is bad about nationalism, aside from its intrinsic collective coercion, is that it inspires conflict. The 800 U.S. military bases around the world keep the peace by waging endless war, bombing civilians to protect Americans from non-threats on the other side of the world. In July 2016, we of the Anglosphere "celebrated," if that is quite the word, the centenary of the Battle of the Somme, a fruit of nationalism, which by its conclusion three and a half months later had cost the Allies and the Central Powers combined over a million casualties, most of them dismembered by artillery. Thank you for your service.

The other bad idea of the era was socialism, which can also be linked to Romanticism, and to a secularized Christianity, with its Sermon-on-the-Mount charity and an apocalyptic view of history. It's all of a piece—from central planning in Venezuela to building permits in Chicago. A communist is a socialist in a hurry and a socialist is a regulator in a hurry and a regulator is a corrupt politician in a hurry.

What's bad about socialism, aside from its own intrinsic collective coercion, is that it leads to poverty. Even in its purest forms—within the confines of a sweet family, say—it kills initiative and encourages free riding. St. Paul, not famous for being a liberal, scolded the Thessalonians: "We gave this order: 'If anyone doesn't want to work, he shouldn't eat.' We hear that some of you are living in idleness. You are not busy working—you are busy interfering in other people's lives!" Good for St. Paul.

The not-so-sweet forms of socialism, especially those paired with nationalism, are a lot worse. Thus North Korea, Cuba, and other workers' paradises. As the joke goes, "Under capitalism man exploits man; under socialism it's the other way around."

What to do? Revive liberalism, as the astonishing successes of China and India have. Take back the word from our friends on the American left. They can keep progressive, if they don't mind being associated with the Progressive movement of the early 20th century, and its eugenic enthusiasms for forced sterilization and for using the minimum wage to drive immigrants, blacks, and women out of the labor force. And we should persuade our friends on the right to stop using the l word to attack people who do not belong to the country club.

Read Adam Smith, slowly—not just the prudential Wealth of Nations, but its temperate sister The Theory of Moral Sentiments. And return in spirit to the dawn of 1776, when the radical idea was not nationalism or socialism or national socialism, but "the obvious and simple system of natural liberty" that allows all men and women to pursue their interests in their own ways.

It was a strange but very, very good idea. Still is.