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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years

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Gospel Reading and Commentary for Friday, January 18, 2019 - Roman Catholic - Mark 2: 1 - 12

1. And again He entered into Capernaum after some days; and it was noised that He was in the house.

2. And straightway many were gathered together, insomuch that there was no room to receive them, no, not so much as about the door: and He preached the word unto them.

3. And they came unto Him, bringing one sick of the palsy, who was carried by four.

4. And when they could not come nigh unto Him for the press, they uncovered the roof where He was: and when they had broken it up, they let down the bed wherein the sick of the palsy lay.

5. When Jesus saw their faith, He said unto the sick of the palsy, “Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.”

6. But there were certain of the Scribes sitting there, and reasoning in their hearts,

7. Why doth this man thus speak blasphemies? who can forgive sins but God only?

8. And immediately when Jesus perceived in His spirit that they so reasoned within themselves, He said unto them, “Why reason ye these things in your hearts?

9. Whether is it easier to say to the sick of the palsy, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Arise, and take up thy bed, and walk?

10. But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (He saith to the sick of the palsy,) [p. 38]

11. I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house.”

12. And immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went forth before them all; insomuch that they were all amazed, and glorified God, saying, “We never saw it on this fashion.”

Bede, in Marc., 1, 10: Because the compassion of God deserts not even carnal persons, He accords to them the grace of His presence, by which even they may be made spiritual. After the desert, the Lord returns into the city.

Wherefore it is said, “And again He entered into Capernaum, &c.”

Augustine, de Con. Evan., ii, 25: But Matthew writes this miracle as if it were done in the city of the Lord, whilst Mark places it in Capernaum, which would be more difficult of solution, if Matthew had also named Nazareth. But seeing that Galilee itself might be called the city of the Lord, who can doubt but that the Lord did these things in His own city, since He did them in Capernaum, a city of Galilee; particularly as Capernaum was of such importance in Galilee as to be called its metropolis?

Or else, Matthew passed by the things which were done after He came into His own city, until He came to Capernaum, and so adds on the story of the paralytic healed, subjoining, “And, behold, they presented to Him a man sick of the palsy,” after he had said that He came into His own city.

Pseudo-Chrys., Vict. Ant. e Cat. in Marc.: Or else, Matthew called Capernaum His city because He went there frequently, and there did many miracles.

It goes on: “And it was noised that He was in the house, &c.”

For the desire of hearing Him was stronger that the toil of approaching Him. After this, they introduce the paralytic, of whom Matthew and Luke speak; wherefore there follows: “And they came unto Him bearing one sick of the palsy, who was carried by four.”

Finding the door blocked up by the crowd, they could not by any means enter that way. Those who carried him, however, hoping that he could merit the grace of being healed, raising the bed with their burden, and uncovering the roof, lay him with his bed before the face of the Saviour.

And this is that which is added: “And when they could not [p. 39] lay him before Him, &c.”

There follows: “But when Jesus saw their faith, He said to the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee.”

He did not mean the faith of the sick man, but of his bearers; for it sometimes happens that a man is healed by the faith of another.

Bede: It may indeed be seen how much each person’s own faith weighs with God, when that of another had such influence that the whole man at once rose up, healed body and soul, and by one man’s merit, another should have his sins forgiven him.

Theophylact: He saw the faith of the sick man himself, since he would not have allowed himself to be carried, unless he’d had faith to be healed.

Bede: Moreover, the Lord being about to cure the man of the palsy, first loosed the chains of his sins, in order to shew that he was condemned to the loosening of his joints, because of the bonds of his sins, and could not be healed to the recovery of his limbs, unless these were first loosened.

But Christ’s wonderful humility calls this man, despised, weak, with all the joints of his limbs unstrung, a son, when the priests did not deign to touch him. Or at least, He therefore calls him a son because his sins are forgiven him.

It goes on: “But there were certain of the scribes sitting there, and reasoning in their hearts, Why doth this man speak blasphemies?”

Cyril [ed. note: Nicolai observes on this passage, Nihil tale occurrit in Cyrillo, tametsi blasphemiae ideo a Judaeis improperatae Christo meminit in Johannem, Lib. ii, e.3.]: Now they accuse Him of blasphemy, anticipating the sentence of His death: for there was a command in the Law, that whosoever blasphemed should be put to death. And this charge they laid upon Him, because He claimed for Himself the divine power of remitting sins.

Wherefore it is added, “Who can forgive sin, save God only?” For the Judge of all alone has power to forgive sin.

Bede: Who remits sin by those also to whom He has assigned the power of remitting, and therefore Christ is proved to be very God, for He is able to remit sins as God.

The Jews then are in error, who although they hold the Christ both to be God, and to be able to remit sins, do not however believe that Jesus is the Christ.

But the Arians err much more madly, who [p. 40] although overwhelmed with the words of the Evangelist, so that they cannot deny that Jesus is the Christ, and can remit sin, nevertheless fear not to deny that He is God.

But He Himself, desiring to shame the traitors both by His knowledge of things hidden and by the virtue of His works, manifests Himself to be God.

For there follows: “And immediately when Jesus perceived in His spirit that they so reasoned, He said unto them, Why reason ye these things in your hearts?”

In which He shews Himself to be God, since He can know the hidden things of the heart; and in a manner though silent He speaks thus, With the same power and majesty, by which I look upon your thoughts, I can forgive the sins of men.

Theophylact: But though their thoughts were laid bare, still they remain insensible, refusing to believe that He who knew their hearts could forgive sins, wherefore the Lord proves to them the cure of the soul by that of the body, shewing the invisible by the visible, that which is more difficult by that which is easier, although they did not look upon it as such.

For the Pharisees thought it more difficult to heal the body, as being more open to view; but the soul more easy to cure, because the cure is invisible; so that they reasoned thus, Lo, He does not now cure the body, but heals the unseen soul; if He’d had more power, He would at once have cured the body, and not have fled for refuge to the unseen world.

The Saviour, therefore, shewing that He can do both, says, “Which is easier?” as if He said, I indeed by the healing of the body, which is in reality more easy, but appears to you more difficult, will prove to you the health of the soul, which is really more difficult.

Psuedo-Chrys., Vict. Ant. e Cat. in Marc.: And because it is easier to say than to do, there was still manifestly something to say in opposition, for the work was not yet manifested.

Wherefore He subjoins, “But that ye may know, &c.” as if He said, Since ye doubt My word, I will bring on a work which will confirm what was unseen.

But He says in a marked manner, “On earth to forgive sins,” that He might shew that He has joined the power of the divinity to the human nature by an inseparable union, because although He was made man, yet He remained the Word of God; and although by an economy He conversed on the earth with men, nevertheless He was not prevented from working [p. 41] miracles and from giving remission of sins.

For His human nature did not in any thing take away from these things which essentially belonged to His Divinity, nor the Divinity hinder the Word of God from becoming on earth, according to the flesh, the Son of Man without change and in truth.

Theophylact: Again, He says, “Take up thy bed,” to prove the greater certainty of the miracle, shewing that it is not a mere illusion; and at the same time to shew that He not only healed, but gave strength; thus He not only turns away souls from sin, but gives them the power of working out the commandments.

Bede: A carnal sign therefore is given, that the spiritual sign may be proved, although it belongs to the same power to do away with the distempers of both soul and body.

Whence it follows: “And immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went forth before them all.”

Chrys.: Further, He first healed by the remission of sins that which He had come to seek, that is, a soul, so that when they faithlessly doubted, then He might bring forward a work before them, and in this way His word might be confirmed by the work, and a hidden sign be proved by an open one, that is, the health of the soul by the healing of the body.

Bede: We are also informed, that many sicknesses of body arise from sins, and therefore perhaps sins are first remitted, that the causes of sickness being taken away, health may be restored. For men are afflicted by fleshly troubles for five causes, in order to increase their merits, as Job and the Martyrs; or to preserve their lowliness, as Paul by the messenger of Satan; or that they may perceive and correct their sins, as Miriam, the sister of Moses, and this paralytic; or for the glory of God, as the man born blind and Lazarus; or as the beginnings of the pains of damnation, as Herod and Antiochus.

But wonderful is the virtue of the Divine power, where without the least interval of time, by the command of the Saviour, a speedy health accompanies His words.

Wherefore there follows: “Insomuch that they were all amazed.” Leaving the greater thing, that is, the remission of sins, they only wonder at that which is apparent, that is, the health of the body.

Theophylact: This is not however the paralytic, whose cure [p. 42] is related by John, [John 5] for he had no man with him, this one had four; he is cured in the pool of the sheep market, but this one in a house. It is the same man, however, whose cure is related by Matthew [Matt. 9] and Mark.

But mystically, Christ is still in Capernaum, in the house of consolation.

Bede: Moreover, whilst the Lord is preaching in the house, there is not room for them, not even at the door, because whilst Christ is preaching in Judaea, the Gentiles are not yet able to enter to hear Him, to whom, however, though placed without, he directed the words of His doctrine by His preachers.

Pseudo-Jerome: Again, the palsy is a type of the torpor, in which man lies slothful in the softness of the flesh, though desiring health.

Theophlyact: If therefore I, having the powers of my mind unstrung, remain, whenever I attempt any thing good without strength, as a palsied man, and if I be raised on high by the four Evangelists, and be brought to Christ, and there hear myself called son, then also are my sins quitted by me; for a man is called the son of God because he works the commandments.

Bede: Or else, because there are four virtues, by which a man is through an assured heart exalted so that he merits safety; which virtues some call prudence, fortitude, temperance and justice. Again, they desire to bring the palsied man to Christ, but they are impeded on every side by the crowd which is between them, because often the soul desires to be renewed by the medicine of Divine grace, but through the sluggishness of the grovelling body is held back by the hindrance of old custom. Oftentimes amidst the very sweetness of secret prayer, and, as it may be called, the pleasant converse with God, a crowd of thoughts, cutting off the clear vision of the mind, shuts out Christ from its sight.

Let us not then remain in the lowest ground, where the crowds are bustling, but aim at the roof of the house, that is, the sublimity of the Holy Scripture, and meditate on the law of the Lord.

Theophylact: But how should I be borne to Christ, if the roof be not opened. For the roof is the intellect, which is set above all those things which are within us; here it has much earth about it in the tiles which are made of clay, I mean, earthly things: but if these be taken away, the virtue of the intellect within [p. 43] us is freed from its load. After this let it be let down, that is, humbled. For it does not teach us to be puffed up, because our intellect has its load cleared away, but to be humbled still more.

Bede: Or else, the sick man is let down after the roof is opened, because, when the Scriptures are laid open to us we arrive at the knowledge of Christ, that is, we descend to His lowliness, by the dutifulness of faith. But by the sick man being let down with his bed, it is meant that Christ should be known by man, whilst yet in the flesh.

But by rising from the bed is meant the soul’s rousing itself from carnal desires, in which it was lying in sickness. To take up the bed is to bridle the flesh itself by the bands of continence, and to separate it from earthly pleasures, through the hope of heavenly rewards.

But to take up the bed and to go home is to return to paradise. Or else the man, now healed, who had been sick carries back home his bed, when the soul, after receiving remission of sins, returns, even though encompassed with the body, to its internal watch over itself.

Theophylact: It is necessary to take up also one’s bed, that is the body, to the working of good. For then shall we be able to arrive at contemplation, so that our thoughts should say within us, never have we seen in this way before, that is never understood as we have done since we have been cured of the palsy; for he who is cleansed from sin, sees more purely.

#gospel of mark

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rainythefox · 6 years

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Reap What You Sow (FarCry 5 fanfic)

Chapter 9: The Red Room

He guided the pen along the parchment in slow, graceful loops and turns, forming words that the Voice spoke to him. He had lost track of time, he was sure, the church deathly quiet with only his thoughts to distract him and the Voice to guide him. Thunder faintly rattled in the distance, but only a light drizzle fell from the darkening clouds for now.

The groaning of door hinges echoed through the empty church, soft, gray light spilling in from outside before the door closed shut, leaving behind a cool breath of wind.

Joseph paused in his writing. The boots stepped along the nave, coming towards where he sat at the altar in the back of the church. There were more than just the boots walking along the wooden floor. The ticking of claws, he heard, walking evenly with the boots. A slower, softer pair of footsteps were behind the boots.

The Father was quiet, scooting his chair back from his makeshift desk he made near the lectern. He rose, his back still to them. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, taking a moment to clear his head.

"Joseph."

His eyes opened. He slowly turned around, looking down at Jacob as he stood just before the chancel. His Judge, Gideon, stood at his side at attention. Behind him, stood a smaller, lankier young man who held his arms crossed close to his chest, eyes darting around.

"Here he is, just as you've asked," Jacob stated, motioning to the follower behind him. "Come on, beanpole."

The young man stared up at Joseph in awe. The Father stepped down off the chancel to even his height with theirs. It took him but a moment to recall who the young man was and why he had Jacob bring him here. Smiling, Joseph held his arms out beckoning the man forward to him.

"Ah, yes. Aiden. Come here, my child."

Jacob stepped aside, folding his arms. Gideon sat on his haunches, ears pricking at Jacob's every movement. Joseph could tell the young man was nervous as he stepped over to him, but he didn't miss the child-like wonder the young man held as he listened.

"F-Father, it's an honor. Bless be to you!" Aiden greeted giddily.

Joseph cupped his hands on either side of the young man's face, peering at him for a moment. "Look at you, Aiden. You've grown spiritually since I last saw you. How are you faring?"

"I-I'm doing fine, just fine. Thank you for asking, Father. I-Is there anything I can do for you? I would love to serve you in any way that I ca-can!"

Joseph twitched his lips, the smile barely noticeable. He patted Aiden on the shoulder. "I love your passion, Aiden. It is people like you who are the heart and soul of this Project. Go and sit right over there on that pew, I will be with you shortly."

He motioned down at the rows of pews and Aiden nodded. The young man left Joseph's side, picking the front pew to sit down on and wait. Joseph motioned at Jacob and turned, stepping up onto the chancel and walking into the back to the sanctuary. Jacob gave a cue to Gideon, and the Judge remained sitting where he was, eyes fixed on Aiden.

Jacob followed behind his brother to the sanctuary. He remained stoic, waiting for Joseph to initiate the conversation.

"So, I heard correctly? You also captured Allison?"

Jacob dipped his head. "Yeah. She's with John now. He took her last night."

"She's escaped him once already. Did you track her to the Henbane River? Is that how you caught her?"

"It was John. He used her brother back there to set her up, draw her out. Knew exactly what she was gonna do. I just picked her up for him as a favor."

Joseph choked on a laugh. "I thought we were better than having to resort to trickery and deceit to guide the lost into our fold?"

Jacob glanced back towards Gideon and Aiden for a moment, then shrugged. "It's not my usual tactic either, but it worked. The deputy is flighty, and she's resourceful. She isn't like the others, and John knows that. He's already got her figured out, and he used that knowledge to get her back to us. In the end, it prevents her from inflicting anymore damage on this Project."

Joseph heaved a sigh, closing his eyes and looking away. "I suppose you're right. I'm just…disappointed in him. I went to the Cleansing the other night when I was told of her capture. And John…he was…mocking the Cleansing, playing with her, almost drowning her. Like a cat with a mouse, and I saw it. I saw his sins seeping out and he wasn't bothering to contain them."

Joseph looked to Jacob, but his older brother remained quiet, watching him closely, strong arms folded and still like a statue.

"He and Allison have a lot in common…so much they can share. I thought, maybe if I gave him an ultimatum it would wake him up. I told him, he would get her to atone, to become one with us, or the Gates of Eden would be shut to him."

Jacob slowly nodded. "You think he can do it?"

Joseph ran his fingers over the dancing tips of candlelight fire of a nearby table, taking comfort with their warmth. "Of course I do. I have faith in him. The question is, does he have faith in himself?"

"Then what troubles you?" Jacob asked.

"You know me too well," Joseph chuckled. The Father then sighed once more, clenching the hand with the rosemary necklace. "I don't know, I think…maybe I was a bit too hard on him. Or do you think I wasn't hard enough?"

Jacob laughed this time. "Joseph, you never second guess yourself on anything. What makes this different? Because it's John? You know how he is. He sways back and forth. He's…damaged. You know that, like the both of us. He's just…got a bit more to go."

"I know why he is the way he is," Joseph replied, voice soft. "I just fear his constant slipping will be the damnation of him…or the death, whichever comes first."

Jacob became noticeably uncomfortable, a rare sight. It caught Joseph off guard, although he didn't show it. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked to his older brother. Jacob had his jaw gritted, eyes down at his feet, a single fist clenched.

"What is it, brother?"

Jacob swallowed whatever that was troubling him. "N-nothing. Just a lot on my mind."

Joseph narrowed his eyes at Jacob. "You know better. Tell me what troubles you."

Jacob was silent for a long moment. "We've been through this lots of times…I still…blame myself."

Joseph looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"When I burned down that farm and killed our foster parents for the way they were treating us…I was trying to protect us. But it tore us apart. It left you alone in that god-awful orphanage and it put John in the hands of those…fucking Duncans. It's my fault John is…well, messed up."

Joseph put his hand on Jacob's shoulder. "No, it isn't your fault. We had our own paths to walk in life. It was God putting us through our own trials, preparing us for what we are doing right now, in this moment. It seems harsh, but it was necessary. We've overcome those trials. And now we are here…together. That is what matters now."

Jacob closed his eyes. "If that is what you think."

"It is what I know," Joseph replied, removing his hand, his eyes remaining on his brother. After a moment, the Father stepped back and motioned to the soldier. "You look tired, Jacob. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is another day."

Jacob slowly nodded. "What about Aiden?"

"I'll keep him with me for now. Come now."

Joseph escorted Jacob to the front of the church, even walking with him to the front doors. Jacob whistled for Gideon to follow, and the bleached wolf got to his paws and padded along with the oldest Seed brother. Joseph opened the door for Jacob. Cool wind swept into the dim lit church, the drizzle having been pushed into a steady downpour now.

"Rest, dear brother. I will talk with you soon," Joseph said.

Jacob merely nodded, stepping out into the rain. Joseph could still tell that Jacob was unsure, stuck in his head with his own doubts of the past. Joseph called out to him again, and the soldier stopped, turning back to him.

"One last thing," Joseph said. "Is it true that John murdered two of his followers in his own home?"

A stranger wouldn't have been able to see the faintest of flinches in the rigid soldier's posture, but Joseph knew his brother too well, and caught it on the spot. Jacob shook his head. "No. They were a danger to the Project. And so, John handled them the way I would've."

Joseph barely tipped his head, pulling the door closed. He stood there a moment, not sure to be in shock or troubled that Jacob had lied to him. Jacob had never lied to him before. A sneeze caught his attention, and the worry left him as the Father turned, remembering Aiden.

The prophet walked over to the young man. Upon seeing him approach, Aiden eagerly jumped to his feet to show his courtesy. Joseph motioned for the young man to follow him, and they stepped up onto the chancel and went into the back into the sanctuary. Joseph pulled up a chair for Aiden, patting the top of it. Aiden was quiet as he slipped into it. The Father sat down in front of him in his own chair. Aiden's eyes looked around, admiring the church's scriptures written on the walls as well as the décor.

"Do you know why I asked for you, Aiden?" Joseph asked gently, studying the young man intently.

Aiden shook his head, still looking nervous. "N-no Father. How can I be of service to you? It would be an honor!"

The Father's lips twitched, revealing the faintest of smirks. "I was hoping you could do a favor for me."

"S-sure! What is it?"

"Your sister, Allison, I wish to know all there is to know about her. Could you tell me about her? About your lives growing up?"

Aiden lowered his eyes, deflating a little. "Oh…s-sure."

"Something the matter, my boy?"

"I just…I know she's been causing trouble. Are you…are you going to hurt her?"

Joseph leaned in closer, his elbows resting on his thighs. "Of course not. I want to save her. You know that is what I do. Allison is a sinner, just as you used to be. If I am to save her, to bring her within our family, I must understand her better. I must know why she is the way she is. Can you help me?"

Aiden slowly nodded, looking almost pained. "O-of course. I'll do my best. What would you like to know first?"

Again, the Father's lips twitched into a ghostly smirk. "Start from the beginning."

Her head was pounding, pain seeping through her skull and limbs. She felt high, really high. She remembered hearing faint voices in her head, voices from the past. She wondered if it had all been a dream and she would be waking up in a jail cell from shooting up too much or from getting in a brawl at a bar.

When Allison's eyes opened though, she realized it wasn't a dream, and that her nightmare continued. She blinked, tears from the Bliss watering her eyes as she tried to shake the blurriness from them. She realized she was in a chair. She tried to reach up and touch her aching head but found her arms were bound to the chair. The cloudiness in her mind from the Bliss slowly started to dissipate the more she became aware.

A red light cast the room in a splay of crimson and shadow, bathing walls and the floor in the shade of blood. Allie couldn't quite understand what kind of room she was in. One wall, though mostly in shadow, she could tell was concrete, to her left. The wall to her right was metal bars crisscrossed like a large animal cage, and the red light cast the square shadows across the floor. She saw heavy equipment in the back corner, but for what, she couldn't quite know for sure. The floor was diamond metal steel, although Allie noticed bloody towels and rubber mats strewn around the floor as well. Large cables laid across the floor in certain areas, connecting to heavy equipment or disappearing into the walls.

A small table sat just to the left of her chair with a lamp on it. She also saw a propane torch and a Book of Joseph there as well. She saw another table with a backboard attached to it to her right. The room smelled of mildew and concrete, although Allie smelled a small tang of something rotten as well. None of these things helped her figure out exactly where she was.

She heard struggling, heard muffled cries. Blinking, she saw a figure across the room she was sitting in. There was another person, like her, bound to a chair. They struggled with their bindings, crying out in muffled sounds to her, and Allie realized their mouth was covered in duct tape. It took her a moment, but she realized the person across from her was Joey Hudson. Then it hit Allison. She had to have been in John's bunker if Hudson was here with her.

"Hudson!" Allie hissed, relieved to see her coworker, although she could tell that the experienced deputy looked way worse than when they had been split up at the Father's compound. She too started struggling with her binds, looking around for any way to get free. Hudson was trying to speak to her through muffled cries.

A grating sound of metal on metal echoed through the small room, like a large door had been slid open and then back shut. The sound hurt her ears, but Allie noticed that Hudson had fallen quiet. She stopped fighting. That's when she heard the whistling, and her heart leapt to her throat. She knew who it was even before seeing him.

John stepped in front of her, sitting a stainless-steel bowl down on her table that had a sponge and clear liquid in it. The faint smell from it hit her nose, and she could tell it was rubbing alcohol. He kept whistling his tune as he sat a toolbox on the other table to her right, wiping the dust off its surface. Allison recognized the song he was whistling. It was 'We'll Meet Again' by Vera Lynn.

John took a small tray out of the toolbox after he opened it, and then his whistling stopped. Allie darted her eyes around, tugging at her restraints. They didn't budge. Hudson had let her head fall, and she was now quiet. It was troubling to see the fire that was usually within her snuffed out.

John faced her, eyes twinkling as he leaned on the table. Allison felt very much like a bug trapped in a spider's web. And the spider was closing in.

"My parents were the first ones to teach me about the Power of Yes," John started. He turned around, grabbing something from the toolbox. A staple gun she saw first, and she squinted her eye at the other thing, the thing he was going to staple to the backboard. Cloth? No. Then it dawned on her. Skin…

"One night, they took me to the kitchen, and they threw me on the ground…"

Her heart lurched at the words, and she jumped when the staple gun went off. He turned back to face her.

"And I experienced pain, after pain, after pain, after-" he slammed the staple gun on the table, startling both her and Hudson. Allison had never heard John's voice laced with so much hate than she had in that moment. He took a moment to compose himself, looking from her then to the toolbox once more.

"And when I didn't think I could take anymore…I did."

This time he grabbed a smaller tool, and as he walked towards her with it, Allie realized it was a tattoo gun. She kept his eyes as he came over, flicking on the lamp beside her and moving it to where the light shone on her, making her squint.

"Something…broke free inside. I wasn't scared, I was…" John paused, a twitch from his lips. "Clear."

He took a cord from the table next to Allison and plugged it into the tattoo gun. "I looked up at them and I started to laugh…All I could say was…Yes."

He clicked the tattoo gun on, his eyes still searching hers, lips still holding a small smile, although it felt forced to Allie. The tattoo gun's metallic drilling echoed through the chamber like a haunting sound. She thought about his words, receiving back-flashes of her own vile memories. She shuddered.

John turned the tattoo gun off and sat it on the nearby table. "I spent my entire life looking for more things to say 'yes' to."

His hands were open, and he stepped forward, almost lunging. Allie, thinking he was going to wrap them around her neck, tried to call out but the Bliss still clouding her made it only come out as a whimper, her head pulsing in pain. John didn't grab her throat, instead grabbed a hold of her purple button-up shirt she was wearing. He tore it open, revealing her chest and cleavage and bra. Between the coolness of the air in the room and John's warm breath, her flesh became aroused with goosebumps.

She was frozen as John stared at her chest, his eyes lingering, his fingers caressing along her collarbone and breast, making her gasp.

"I opened up every hole in my body and when those were filled," he now looked up at her. "I created more."

Allison kept his gaze, although she couldn't quite understand what she was feeling at the moment. She was disgusted, but she felt bad for him, the words he was saying that were a nightmare, she knew them. As much as she thought she understood this man, she now knew she was only beginning to scratch the surface. And this scared and intrigued her more than it should have.

John pulled back, picking up the bowl of rubbing alcohol. "But it was Joseph that showed me just how selfish I was being."

He squeezed the excess alcohol out of the sponge and then started rubbing it along her chest. The liquid was cold fire, exfoliating her flesh and making her even colder. The smell hit her nostrils and she coughed.

"Always receiving …always taking. The best gift isn't the one you get, it's the one you give."

John searched her eyes as he rubbed the sponge a few more times over her chest. The excess alcohol trickled down her breasts and soaked her shirt. Allie could only keep his gaze, words still escaping her.

"Giving takes courage," John continued. He pulled back, sitting the bowl down and moving away. She finally took a breath, not realizing she had been holding it. John was back at the bigger table where he had stapled the piece of skin, looking between her and Hudson. "The courage…to own your sin. To etch it onto your flesh and carry its burden and when you have endured…when you have truly begun to atone…"

He stood tall, a light smile back on his lips, his tattooed hands moving to express his words. "To cut it out, like a cancer, and display it for all to see." A small laugh echoed within the red room as he clenched his fists tight, his smile growing wider and surprisingly less malicious. "My god, that's courage."

He took a deep breath, and turned back to the table, grabbing up another tool from the toolbox. A knife sharpener. "I'm going to teach you courage."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and Allison knew it was time to find a way out. She tried to tug at her restraints once more, but they didn't budge.

John's composure changed. He walked forward, holding the knife sharpener tightly. "Teach you how to say 'yes' so you can confront your weaknesses. Confront your sin."

Hudson was shaking her head, weakly tugging on her restraints. John looked between them, turning back to the large table with wide strides.

His voice sounded pained, resolved. "You will swim across an ocean of pain and emerge…free."

John faced her, walking towards her with the knife sharpener pointed directly at her, and she wondered if he could hear her heart speeding in her chest. "For only then can you truly begin to atone."

He jabbed the point of the tool into her collarbone, smirking down at her. He raked it across her skin, and turned away, walking to the table. The knife sharpener didn't cut her, but she felt the welt it caused from his forceful drag of it across her skin.

Allison clenched her jaw, looking to Hudson who had grown quiet again. She looked to John. The Baptist had leaned himself against the larger table, holding the knife sharpener up as he peered between the two deputies in his possession. However, Allison did not miss how John's eyes were more drawn to her.

"So. Who wants to go first? Hm?"

His question made her heart leap to her throat. His eyes burned on her. Allie tore her gaze away, trying to look down at her restraints, her head still hazy from Bliss.

"Which one? Hm?"

She looked up again. John's eyes still held her. Despite his asking, John's lingering eyes on her told Allie that he was expecting her and only her to answer him. But she wanted to fight. And so she remained quiet, tugging at her restraints once more. She saw Hudson's eyes widen across the way, and she shook her head, fighting her own bindings. The duct tape muffled any cries she was trying to let out.

"This is lesson number one…"

Hudson was trying to speak something, her eyes on Allison, but the junior deputy just couldn't understand what she was saying. The loud, muffled sobs just echoed throughout the red room and were lost under John's rising agitation.

"Someone's got to choose!"

He was still staring at Allison, clearly wanting her to say Yes. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Allison tugged on her wrists, wriggled in her chair, groaned out. There had to be a way to escape.

She heard more metallic clacking, and looked up. John had grabbed a hammer from the toolbox and was now walking over to Hudson. Her muffled cries became louder. Allison watched in horror as he slammed the hammer into Hudson's kneecap. The deputy wailed out, and the Baptist drew back the hammer to strike her leg again.

"Stop! Stop! For fuck's sake! Yes! I say Yes!" Allison yelled out. "J-just leave her alone!"

John had ceased. He turned to her, a grin on his face as he tossed the hammer onto the table. It hit the toolbox with a loud crash but remained on the table. He walked over to her and Allie glared at him. Her eyes went to Hudson who shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she stared back at Allie.

"Now that's more like it," John purred. "You won't regret this, Allison. I promise."

He reached up, running his fingers through her hair once more and she winced. He drew back a moment later, going back to his full height. He moved away, pointing over to her coworker.

"Now, before we begin, I think it's only proper that Deputy Hudson goes back to her room."

Hudson started fighting once again when John came nearby to grab her chair. He started rolling her over towards Allison.

"Confessions are meant to be private, after all."

The rolling of the chair's wheels on the metal floor bounced off the walls within the chamber, and Hudson started freaking out. Allison, too, still tugged at her restraints, to escape, to punch John out, to do something. John stopped the chair with Hudson in front of Allie, and hushed them.

"Shh shh shh shhhhhh…I am not here to take your life," John said gently, looking between them. "I'm here to give it to you."

John let go of Hudson's chair and came back over to Allison, moving the lamp out of the way. He towered over her, his hands coming up towards her face. "I'm going to open you and pour your worst fears inside…"

His fingers wrapped around her throat once more and tightened, and for a moment Allie couldn't breath as she stared back at the Baptist. "And as you choke, your sins will reveal themselves."

His fingers loosened to where she could breathe and she gasped, but they lingered there on her throat, caressing her skin. "Only then will you truly understand the Power of Yes."

Allie felt his fingers glide off her neck as he drew back once more. He grabbed ahold of Hudson's chair and she started muffling words again, shaking her head. Allie stared at her in fright, in confusion, not like seeing her so broken and scared.

"I'll be right back," John said, smiling.

"NOOO," Hudson cried through the duct tape on her mouth.

Allison couldn't crane her neck to see behind her as they left. She heard the heavy metal doors open and crash shut, locking her in the red room alone. All became quiet. Only the faint hum of distant machinery echoed along the metallic chambers all around her.

"Fuckin' hell," she hissed, still tugging on her restraints. Frustrated, she started to move her whole body, to find some kind of give in her chair. With small squeaks, the wheels of the chair slowly rolled her along the red room.

Allison knew she had to escape. It was her only chance. She would get out of this room, find Hudson, and they would both get the hell out of this bunker. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to pull this feat off. She had never been in the bunker before, and there was no telling how big it was or how many of John's men were down here.

One restraint started to slowly give. Allison fought it, threatening to tear the skin from her hand to escape its hold. Biting back the pain, she gave one last forceful tug and it snapped. The snap knocked her arm back, causing her to lose balance. The chair toppled over, and she hit the metal floor hard.

She wouldn't be rolling her way to escape now. The chair pinned her, but with her free hand, Allison felt around for her other bound hand. If she could free her other hand, she could work on getting the chair off of her and untying her legs.

Allison cried out in relief as she felt the other restraint snap. Her almost victory was short-lived however, because the grinding of metal doors echoed again, making her heart leap to her throat. Boots stepped along the metallic floor, echoing softly. She heard an amused chuckle. Closing her eyes, Allison gave up.

"My, my, aren't you a little spitfire," John chuckled.

She felt him grab her chair, and she was lifted from the floor back onto solid ground, becoming upright. She glared at John as he spun the chair around to face him, still looking amused.

"Always looking to escape," John said, shaking his head. "I assure you, that will shortly change."

"Highly doubt it," she snapped.

John's blue eyes twinkled, and he eased a smirk, looking her over. "Well, that depends on the stakes, yes? Are you willing to give Hudson's life for a chance to run away?"

She glared at him. "You wouldn't."

John stood up tall, moving to the side and motioning to the door. "There's the door. Be my guest, Allison. I assure you that you will not get far, and Hudson will pay dearly for it in the end."

Allison looked away, feeling defeated for the moment. She couldn't risk Hudson's life. She would have to think of another way to get them out of here.

"What do you want with me?" she whispered, hating herself and where she was at this moment.

"You know what I want," John said, moving away from her.

She looked up when he had gone, but he was soon coming back, pulling over a metal chair to sit in front of her. He had pulled the chair up close. Their knees were only a couple inches away from each other.

"I want you to confess," John continued. "To atone. I want you to be saved. I've told you this before. I am here to guide you through the process. And we are not going anywhere until you do."

He grabbed her hand, the one he had stabbed at his ranch, though now it had started to slowly heal. The wound on his hand was slowly healing as well.

"I made a pact with you, remember? So…no matter what happens…I will get you to confess…to atone. Until then…you're all mine."

A/N: Sorry for this chapter taking a bit longer, life got carried away. As such, it's also a shorter chapter. But don't worry, next one should be longer (and hopefully not take as long). As you can see, this chapter is taking a big turn away from the game. It will still follow the game, but in my own way :3 Thanks to all who have fave/followed this story and I appreciate all the reviews! Have a good week! :D

Read the full story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12917971/1/Reap-What-You-Sow

#far cry 5 #farcry 5 #joseph seed #deputy x john seed #john seed #faith seed #jacob seed #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #Action/Adventure #fanfiction writing #Junior Deputy #deputy #eden's gate

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sinceileftyoublog · 3 years

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Andrew Bryant Interview: Sidetracked By Mortality

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“I’m still trying to make something out of my life,” sings Andrew Bryant on “Birmingham”, a shimmery standout on his new album A Meaningful Connection. From an outsider’s perspective, he’s being modest, borderline facetious. The multi-instrumentalist and producer is a member of Water Liars, one of the most underrated rock bands of the past decade, and he’s released many intimate solo records over the years. His latest, self-released and out on July 9th, is perhaps the most reflective, thoughtful, and deep, soul searching without being navel-gazing.

Dig more, though, and Bryant is still grappling with who he is; A Meaningful Connection is, at its heart, about changing things about yourself. For Bryant, some of these changes are new, and others have been building for decades. Growing up in an Evangelical Christian household, questioning his background, and eventually rejecting religion altogether shapes how he views the world, how he perceives what’s true and what’s not. Indeed, throughout the record, Bryant is concerned with what people believe versus what really is, and he writes about it through the lens of technology and the sociopolitical climate of the past half-decade. “So please, y’all, don’t @ me / I’m trying out this vibe / I don’t have to listen to your truth or your lies,” he sings on the fuzzed-out “Reality Winner”, a song inspired by the formerly incarcerated intelligence specialist and whistleblower with an eerily appropriate name. Of course, Bryant’s aware of social media rabbit holes and that not everything you read online is true: “Folk singers on Twitter / You know they’ve got all the answers,” he quips on album opener “Private Window”. In a way, the rabid pursuit of truth in the era of #FakeNews can prove just as dogmatic as the Trump-voting Evangelicals Bryant grew up with. “You can eat from the tree of the God that keeps you up at night,” Bryant continues on “Private Window”, this time more weary and wise.

Last month, I spoke to Bryant over the phone from his home in Oxford, MS, a year and change into the period of COVID-induced isolation we’ve all gone through, one ripe for the type of contemplation that pervades A Meaningful Connection. Though Bryant started writing these songs in late 2019, lockdown encouraged him to write every day. He got sober during the pandemic--the gorgeous and acoustic “Drink The Pain Away” was written a few months after his last drink--another move that has, among other things, aided his pursuit of not the truth, but self-truths, or perhaps a belief in yourself. “I want to be like Christ, but I don’t want to die,” he sings on “Fight”, wanting to find meaning in life that doesn’t involve atoning for sins or self-sacrifice. Of course, that’s, ironically, a lifelong project for all of us, but to Bryant, making meaningful connections along the way, within himself and with others, is a means to such an end.

Below, read my conversation with Bryant, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: Would you consider A Meaningful Connection mostly inspired by the COVID-19 lockdown?

Andrew Bryant: Absolutely. It’s kind of weird, because the title for me represents more the idea I had going into making the record, what it means to be connected with people. I really wanted to get into how we form connections that are and aren’t personal, and work it out in song. I wanted to use technology in song for the first time. I really don’t like to say things like “text” [in a song]. [But] in one of the first lines of the record, I say, “Twitter.” I don’t really like to do that in songs, because it dates them so specifically. But I really had that intention of going into this record that was doing something for the time. After the lockdown, I really turned inward a lot more than I intended to, with all of it. It ended up being another songwriter’s personal look at himself in the mirror. [laughs]

SILY: The first four words, “folk singers on Twitter,” are funny, because when you think of “folk singers,” you could think of the 60′s, but also the folk tradition. It’s time ambiguous when contrasted with something like Twitter that’s so specific. It really is a funny juxtaposition.

AB: That’s kind of how I approached it at the beginning. There’s a lot about time on the record, and I wanted to juxtapose phrases that were timeless with phrases that weren’t. I don’t think I did all that well--I think I got sidetracked by the idea of mortality because of everything that was going on.

SILY: You sing, “Don’t @ me,” on another song. What’s your relationship with social media? Are you on it a lot?

AB: Yeah, and I was on it a lot last year, like a lot of people. I’ve always had a fairly funny relationship with it. It’s something that came when I was in my 20′s. I grew up in a house without a computer at all. I never connected with people the same way that younger people do. In the last five years, because I’ve been using it for so long, it’s interesting for me to see how it’s become its own force in society and our psyche and the way that we are and relate to one another in a way that doesn’t exist when I was a kid. When I think about my memories as a kid, it’s hard for me to even imagine the way people related to one another.

SILY: On “Private Window”, you also sing, “In another 140 years, there will be another 140 people writing lines about what it all means to let it bleed.” Is the 140 a reference to the one-time character limit of a Tweet?

AB: It is.

SILY: Part of that line that also sticks with me, that I’ve noticed on a number of records that deal with grief, is that there’s almost an absurdity to the idea that coping with something makes for meaningful art. At the end of the day, somebody’s dead.

AB: Absolutely. I think that’s why I got so obsessed with the idea of time. It goes on and on.

SILY: On “Fight”, you seem to be grappling with the idea of legacy when you sing, “I want to be like Christ but I don’t want to die.” Are you saying you want to live for something valuable?

AB: Yeah. I’m still in a lot of ways deconstructing from the Evangelical past I was raised in as a kid. My family still says that being Christlike is the only thing that matters. It’s an easy thing to say, but not to think of it as the ultimate way of being, to die for no reason, or to be sacrificed. I think that song is a way for me to be okay with just who I am. Letting the art that I make be what it is, whether it’s great or bad, whether I think it’s good, just me wanting to be myself and not have to think about being a Christ figure in a lot of ways.

SILY: What’s your current relationship with religion?

AB: I’m an atheist on a really bad day and a little bit of an agnostic on a really good day. I pretty much left it all years ago. It’s one of those things where if you were raised the way I was, completely submerged in it--our entire family’s entire lives revolved around it--if you grew up that way during a formative 18 years of your life, it doesn’t really ever leave. It shapes the way you interact with the world even if you know that you’ve intellectually rejected it. There’s so much underlying inside of you that makes your body and emotions react in a Western Biblical way. So much of our country is like that more than people realize. A lot of our laws, the way we interact and do everything in society is a Judeo Christian, Western way of thought. I’m not naïve to think it doesn’t still have a little bit of control over me, unless I keep it in check.

SILY: How do you think it finds its way into your songwriting?

AB: I think the inward reflection does it a lot. Me judging myself. That’s the worst thing to come from it. How much self-doubt and judgement I put upon myself. It shows up in my work and my producing work. If I want to produce something that’s not me, if it’s not all about me all the time, it’s a struggle. Christians say you’re not supposed to think about yourself, but if you live in that world, for me, it’s all about saving your soul from damnation. It’s not about other people.

SILY: Would you say this album’s central theme of the truth versus lies falls into that idea as well?

AB: For sure. The Trump administration, too. The people who voted for him and put him in office, I knew them. A lot of people who are Evangelicals who voted for him were waiting for someone like him their entire lives. He embodied what they wanted. A lot of my worst fears of what could be possible were right in my face. But the thing that scared me the most was when Trump was talking about fake news. What is truth and what is reality really blurred for the last 5 years. In social media, too, that’s why I really wanted to interrogate that idea of truth and reality. I really wanted to get people to see that sometimes those things are the same, and sometimes they’re not. We’re each able to have our own truths, but they’re actually our beliefs. Where I think I failed on this record is not using the word “beliefs.” There aren’t two truths, there are distinct beliefs.

SILY: Do you distinguish between “the truth” and a personal truth?

AB: Of course. Each person has their own truth. I believe that. And perspective. Truth is fluid always. But 2+2 is 4 is accepted as a truth. The accepted truths coming from math and science is what I call truth. When it comes to everything else, it is just belief. If you grow up with an Evangelical worldview, you grow up with the truth and the only truth. Once you’ve spent 20 years really figuring it out, and these media figureheads like Trump come out and try to reverse it all, it’s so hard. It’s really, really jarring.

SILY: It’s interesting to me that the line “I guess I never really learned how to let go of the truth for a lie,” came in the song “Drink the Pain Away”, because if you think about alcohol, it’s something that can both be a truth serum and something that brings up emotions that can blur the truth. Was that an intentional juxtaposition?

AB: Absolutely. I got sober last year, during the making of the record, and that song was written when I was about 3-4 months sober at that point. But, yeah. [laughs] Alcohol definitely does make things true that weren’t true, or expose some truths that even then weren’t true. Truth serum is a great way to put it.

SILY: Is the song “Reality Winner” named after the person?

AB: It is.

SILY: Is there anything in that song actually about that person? Why did you title it that?

AB: Not really. I had the song written first. I had the riff, and was working on the chorus, and I wanted to write about her, but I went down a Twitter rabbit hole about it one night in particular to the point I was so full of anxiety I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I went to the park and literally wrote the song there in my head. What intrigued me, too, was her name. The name Reality Winner, the metaphors were too great. I needed to write about problems that I was having surrounding the ways she was treated. I sort of made it about myself, which is not great. But hopefully you’re gonna find out about Reality Winner if you don’t know about her already. I’m not that good at writing political songs. [laughs]

SILY: Do you think that “Truth Ain’t Hard To Find” is a response to the previous songs on the record that might state otherwise?

AB: Yeah. That was the last song I wrote for the record. I didn’t know how to sum it up. I always knew it was where I wanted to go at a certain point, but the album got sequenced around a couple times in my brain, and I cut a couple songs off. I knew I needed to say something to bring it all back together, so that was the point of that song.

SILY: The record’s really aesthetically diverse. Some songs are more power pop, while others have a slow lurking stomp. How do you go about juxtaposing a style or melody with the themes of the songs?

AB: Part of the reason for that on this record is during the pandemic, I hadn’t updated a lot of my studio here, and then I [finally] updated my [recording station]. A lot of it was learning on the spot. Basically, whenever I found a [new] sound, it made it in. I’ve been doing this for so long where I just kind of listen to things and just run with it. Usually, when I get everything tracked, I look back and try to make it more cohesive. It’s more all over the place in the early stages of mixing. I ended up re-tracking a lot of guitars that appeared throughout the album and honed in a lot of drum sounds.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the album art?

AB: That’s my wife on the cover. To me, I had an image I wanted to use for the cover that was really dark, that was just her arm in bed, and it was too dark. I wanted two people sleeping in bed together, and I wanted to show time, space, and technology. It’s an image that represents the big ideas of the album. We were actually in bed one day and were reflected in the window. I was thinking of the idea of “Private Window”, windows, reflections of how we see ourselves, how we see ourselves from our phones versus how other people see us. I came up with the idea and invited some friends of mine over and we shot it.

SILY: You mentioned wanting to do some acoustic house shows around this record. How do you feel about stripping these songs back down to play them live?

AB: Not too bad. I’ve been playing around with them. I got a new guitar the other day. They won’t have all the parts there, but that’s how it goes. That’s how it’s been for years. Sometimes, you just try to play the song and sing it well rather than having a huge band playing all the parts. I think it’s a personal and emotional enough record that if I play in a small room, it might come off better than in a club.

SILY: What else have you been working on in the meantime?

AB: I got a couple local folks I’m helping with their records, a local hip hop guy. Kind of their first time. I’ve pretty much got my next record written, which is pretty different from this one or anything I’ve done on the last few albums. Kind of acoustic-based, fictionalized writing. I’m gonna start tracking that in a couple months, I imagine. Trying to keep myself busy. I’m trying to work on a memoir. [laughs] Songwriters are not known for being good authors. Some of them can pull it off.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading lately that’s caught your attention?

AB: That new Godspeed You! Black Emperor record. I’ve been a fan of theirs for a long time. That new Damien Jurado record, I like how short and beautiful it is. I’ve been a fan of his since the 90′s. I just finished watching The Crown on Netflix. My wife had watched that show, and I thought, “I’m not interested in the Royals, I don’t want to watch this.” But I had sort of run out of shit to watch, and I needed a series. I was really surprised how well done that show was. It really interested me.

youtube

#interviews #andrew bryant #a meaningful connection #water liars #reality winner #twitter #covid-19 #godspeed you! black emperor #damien jurado #the crown #netflix #the royal family

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the-christian-walk · 4 years

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THE SIGNS (PART 2)

Can I pray for you in any way?

Send any prayer requests to [email protected] In Christ, Mark

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

** Follow The Christian Walk on Twitter @ThChristianWalk

** Like posts and send friend requests to the author of The Christian Walk, Mark Cummings on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/mark.cummings.733?ref=tn_tnmn

** Become a Follower of The Christian Walk at http://the-christian-walk.blogspot.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scriptures. May God bless the reading of His holy word.

You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.

Matthew 24:6-7a

When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.

Mark 13:7-8a

When you hear of wars and uprisings, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come right away.

Then He said to them: “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.

Luke 21:9-10

This ends today’s reading from God's holy word. Thanks be to God.

It was Tuesday and in three days, Jesus would be dead, suffering a criminal-like execution while crucified on a cross at Calvary. He had told His disciples it would happen but they didn’t completely understand. He also told Him that He wouldn’t remain dead but rise again on the third day, a promise they also didn’t understand even though they knew their Master possessed amazing resurrection powers Himself. But as we see in this series of devotions simply titled “The Signs”, Jesus continued to prepare His followers for what was to come. For not only would He rise on the third day, brought back to life from death itself, but He would then leave the earth altogether with the vow that He would return, not to save the world, He had already done that, but rather to judge it. And although He had assured His disciples that no one would know the time of that return, we see in Matthew 24, Mark 13, and Luke 21 that He did share signs to look for, signs that would signal that His second coming was on the horizon.

Yesterday, we found Jesus warning His followers about others who would appear and impersonate Him, claiming to be the Messiah while seeking to deceive. You’ll recall that one way to prevent this deception from happening would be to commit oneself to really know who Jesus is so that it would be easy to spot an imposter and avoid them. Unfortunately, there will be people who don’t do this and they will be easy prey for the deceiver.

As we turn to today’s devotion and the second sign Jesus talks about during what is known as His final Olivet Discourse, I think it’s interesting to first examine the landscape of our world in real time as we enter 2021. As we do, here’s a question I want you to ponder:

How many wars are actively going on in our world today?

Now I’m not talking about disagreements or exchanges of threats. These things happen all the time and they will continue to happen,

What I am talking about is real war which would involve active military engagement between two nations, rival fighting forces engaging on the battlefield with one nation seeking to gain victory over the other.

How many conflicts like this are in progress as we enter this new year?

Maybe you know of one but I don’t. Frankly, this may be as close to a time of peace in our world than we’ve ever had short of before nations and empires even existed.

And yet, because we are in the midst of a global pandemic that has put people at risk of sickness and has frankly changed the way we live, at least temporarily, we find people making statement like, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Jesus comes back tomorrow.” Such talk is incredibly shallow, of course, and that what makes this series of devotions (and I would say a separate study of the Book of Revelation) very important. For before Jesus returns, there is no doubt left by the scriptures that events are going to happen and not just one but a series of events. These events are not going to be subtle. They won’t be easily overlooked by people. Rather, they will be huge, news occupying events that will leave many people baffled and confused. And those perplexed people will be the ones with no knowledge of the word of God. Their very bewilderment will reveal this.

Back to the scriptures for today where we find Jesus telling Peter, James, John, and Andrew about another sign to watch out for. Here’s what He said:

You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. Matthew 24:6-7a

Note that prior to Jesus return or the end of the age, there will not just be rumors of wars but wars themselves. This won’t necessarily be a world war, even though we have had two of them in earth’s history. We don’t know the scale or scope of any one war but we do know that nations and/or kingdoms will rise up one against another. And note that it’s not a matter of if, but when these things will happen. In fact, Jesus said the wars must happen in advance of the end which would be still yet ahead.

What will that end be?

Well, we know that the earth as we know it will pass away along with the heavens in order for a new heavens and earth to emerge. Think of it as God hitting the reset button on His creation and when He starts over, it will be with those who accepted His Son Jesus as Savior. They will receive God’s promise of eternal life. As for those who rejected Jesus, their fate will be far worse than a global pandemic or a war for they will be destined for eternal damnation and torment. Think about your worst day ever, multiply it by a million, and then think about living that day over and over and over again.

Listen, do yourself a favor. Accept Jesus today as your personal Savior. Read the Gospels and learn about who He was and model the way you live after Him. You’ll not only gain the assurance of everlasting life but you’ll become a better person, a righteous person who will always live in God’s favor. If you do, the future signs Jesus talked about won’t bring you any fear or worry. Rather, they will indicate that the glorious day of His return is soon, a day when you will join Him to live forever, free from all the hardships and afflictions of this world.

I don’t know about you but it’s a day I am so looking forward to.

Amen.

In Christ,

Mark

PS: Feel free to leave a comment and please share this with anyone you feel might be blessed by it. Send any prayer requests to [email protected]

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nogodinvolvedsblog · 4 years

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From the author of the book “Islam Dismantled: The Mental Illness of Prophet Muhammad” :«After much delay, ultimately my book “Islam Dismantled: The Mental Illness of Prophet Muhammad” is published and available for online purchase and in various book stores. In this article, I intend to introduce the book to you and to discuss few salient features of the book. In the market there is no shortage of books critical to Islam, but why should the readers purchase this particular book? What is there in this book that makes this book unique? As the author of this book I am answerable to each one of you.This book dismantles Islam by exposing the imposture of Muhammad. The historical Muhammad is too privileged to be formally evaluated in the fashion a clinical psychologist would like. But given certain of his well-known and highly documented behaviors, it is certain that he had a conflict-ridden psychological dependence on others. He equated love with weakness and feared intimacy. He inflicted pain and abuse on others as his second nature. He was unable to give his followers a reason to live, so he gave them enough reasons to die – die in Allah’s name to enter paradise. He could not convince the Arabs to choose his religion based upon its merits, so he threatened them with damnation, and the religion he preached was more about fantasy less about proof. Any person who, among other atrocities, orders and watches 800 innocent people beheaded and beds the wife of a man whom he had tortured to death that very night cannot be considered psychologically normal. Common sense alone tells us that a fifty-one years old man who marries a six year old girl is abnormal. The notion that a godly revelation would focus on the sexual desires of a lecherous man is really disgusting. No religion in the world has ever destroyed family ties as Muhammad has done in Islam.Muhammad had shown all the symptoms of his lunacy and his prophetic claim was based on the quicksand of grand delusion. But the irony is that the entire religion of Islam is based on the truth claim of such a man who could easily swing back and forth between the two extremes – reality and fantasy.Muslims believe that Muhammad was the noblest person who ever walked on Earth. In the Qur’an, Allah praises Muhammad as the best of the creation, an excellent example (Q: 33.21), exalted above other Prophets in degrees (Q: 2.253), the preferred one (Q: 17.55), a mercy to the worlds (Q: 21.107), and the one who has risen to a praised estate (Q: 17.79). But the five oldest and most trusted Islamic sources do not portray Muhammad a superior being or any kind of mercy of God among mankind. The sources reveal that he was a thief, a liar, an assassin, a pedophile, a shameless womanizer, a promiscuous husband, a rapist, a mass-murderer, a desert pirate, a warmonger, a spineless coward and a calculating and ruthless tyrant. It is certainly not the character profile of the founder of a true religion.Religion was just a cause for Muhammad. He actually worshipped his own image – not God. He had created Allah in his own image and attributed to that God the qualities of his own self. Allah was a plastic entity that Muhammad shaped to meet his needs. That is why Allah seems a multidimensional entity in the Qur’an, an obedient servant that Muhammad used for any occasion from managing the harem affairs of his wives to swearing to punish mercilessly whosoever disagrees with His beloved messenger.In his religious endeavor, Muhammad made mistakes and was defeated many times, but he did not give up. He corrected himself and moved ahead by abrogating verses with suitable additions. No one can deny that on several occasions he intentionally did harm knowing perfectly well that he was obeying his own will and not an inspiration from God. He talked much about paradise, hell, virtue and sin; but his actions did not show that he had really believed whatever he was saying. He lied on several occasions and encouraged lying to propagate his religion. No doubt, Muhammad had mastered the art of deception. He never gave a second thought to compromise morality for political gain. In his mind there was no other determinant. So he raged when confronted with disagreement or opposition, or, anything that threatened his worldview.Muhammad was not capable of introspection, i.e., he was not capable to judge his actions from the outside. His critics made him realize that there was a “grandiosity gap” (between his self-image and reality) which made him helpless. Since he could not win in a scholarly debate with the critics, he deceitfully got them assassinated. This was his only way to deal with all his intellectual opponents.Critics often ask one question; was Muhammad a knowing fraud or he genuinely believed that the revelations were coming from a God? No matter whatever is the truth, it simply does not make much sense. Even if he was sincere, it does not relieve him from the criminal charges that are put on him. If a racially prejudiced white man “sincerely” believes that blacks should not get equal rights in the civilized society, his “sincerity” does not affect our moral condemnation of his belief. For the same reason we condemn those Hindus who still believe in untouchability. In the same way, Muhammad cannot get away in any case. If he was not a knowing fraud, then we can say that he was capable of self-deception. He used to bring messages freely from his God to justify political murders, assassinations, raid, booty, pedophilia, abundant sex even to solve his domestic problems which are clear evidences that he was an absolute fake; his sincerity means nothing. Secondly, he was perfectly capable of distinguishing right from wrong and anticipating the results of his actions and their influence on the society. Though he caused great misery to others, he hardly felt responsible for them. Therefore, he should be held liable for his deeds and exploits.Muhammad had used Islam to pervade Muslim psyche, and possessed their mind. Muslims are not slaves of Allah; they are slaves of Muhammad. For the Muslims, Muhammad is their drug, their addiction. Without Muhammad, it is a world of black and white. With Muhammad it is a colorful show complete with drama, thrills, fun and full of excitement. While offering five obligatory prayers, Muslims think that they are praying to God, but actually their prayers go to Muhammad. Muhammad is the real God of Islam, not Allah. Muslims simply cannot dare to cross the narrow limits specified by Qur’an and ahadith. They can view the world only through the eyes of Muhammad, and it continues throughout their lives. Once belief systems are rigidly instilled – they are virtually impossible to modify belatedly. The sad part is that Muslims are not even aware of it as we read in the science fictions of alien snatching the human bodies. Muhammad had invaded and modified the minds of Muslims and brought them to his bubble universe to serve him. This way, when the Muslims adopt Muhammad’s way of thinking, they become as destructive as Muhammad.Muhammad obsessively believed in his own infallibility, brilliance, heroism, and perfection. He gave the Qur’an as the only evidence of his prophethood. At the same time, deep inside in his mind he knew that unlike the Biblical Prophets he could not perform miracles. He knew that his Qur’an could not stand criticism. He knew that his religion could not be morally and spiritually at par with other established religions of Arabia, like, Christianity and Judaism; but he did not dare confront the truth. In fact he even could not admit the truth to himself. He only imagined that he was on a divine mission, a messenger of Allah. This is how he failed the “reality test” – he was simply unable to distinguish the actual (external world) from the imagined (the internal world of thoughts and feelings) by making logical analysis of the religion he was preaching or allowing others to do this. For him the reality became shadow and the shadow became reality.Islam is an extremely defenseless religion and hence vulnerable to collapse. “Defenseless” in the sense, there is not a single atom of truth in it to support. This failed religion, originated from the grand delusion of a malignant Narcissist, is the biggest hoax humanity has ever seen. It is like a house of cards – looks tall, big, mighty and gigantic but the base is very weak. The day when criticism will have dismantled piece by piece this enormous falsehood of Islam, the whole edifice will come crumbling down. Then the Muslims will ask themselves how this enormous falsehood could have forced acceptance for such a long time. I can already see some cracks in this gigantic structure.Muhammad’s actions and commands in Allah’s name are immortalized in Qur’an and Hadith collections. These are not only shocking in the standard of our time, but many Meccans during those days were equally shocked by seeing his brutal performance in the name of God. Muhammad succeeded in his prophetic mission because there was no powerful Government to stop him. If Muhammad had been living under Roman rule, surely his mission would have resulted in losing his life and his religion would have been stamped out by strong military action.Probably, the most terrible legacy of Muhammad was his rigid firmness that the Qur’anic revelations were the literal word of God and the significance of these verses are eternal. The irony is that in the entire history of Islam, Qur’an fails to give one solid argument at its favor that cannot be successfully refuted. A nation might read the Qur’an and explain minutely every word for centuries without advancing one step on the road to progress. In the tiresome repetition of the mindless blabbering of a mentally deranged illiterate person, the human mind loses its elasticity, its sagacity, its constructivism and its curiosity. Through Freudian analysis, it can be shown that the prohibition of critical thinking at one point leads to an impoverishment of a person’s critical ability in other spheres of thought and thereby obstructs the power of reason. Consequently, the intellect becomes atrophied and incapable of an original effort. This is the cause of intellectual bankruptcy of the Muslim nations.The self-serving messages of an illiterate seventh century malignant Narcissist passed down to the Muslims generation after generation as unquestionable word of Allah, and as time passed, men were found to take up these words and make them into weapons to cause injustice, oppression, domination, and for conversion by force. Islam is a bankrupt ideology from the standpoint of humanism. The early Arab invaders were no way better than controlled mass-murderers. They were hard-wired to cheat, kill and loot, and had transformed Islam from a religion into an organized crime. In general, they were brainwashed by Muhammad’s teaching to inflict great suffering on other humans without feeling any remorse. The prodigious success of the Arab conquest proves nothing. Attila the Hun, Genseric the Vandal king, Gengis Khan and Alexander the Great brought many nations into subjection; yet civilization owes them absolutely nothing. A conquering people only exercise a civilizing influence when it itself is more civilized than the people conquered.In this book I have no intention of testing God. I just want to test Muhammad’s claim to the title of messenger of God because I refuse to accept his claim blindly. Throughout the recorded history of humankind, many imposters have posed as “god-man” with well-packaged gimmickry and fooled us. Anyone who claims to be a Prophet must be prepared to have his prophecy tested. The aim of this book is to diagnose Muhammad by making use of biographical data and through the application of psychological theory and research. This psychobiography is all about the “why” – the question of motives. I don’t want to tell the story of Muhammad, but unveil the story behind the story. My intention is to uncover the private motives behind his public acts. This book presents two theses – Muhammad suffered from malignant narcissism, and was also affected by neurotic disorder which caused regular psychiatric delusions.I wrote this book after three years of hard research. I have analyzed the Prophet of Islam from a perspective by delving into the psychological impulses that controlled Muhammad and made him the phenomenon that he became. For writing this book, I took references from various well known psychoanalysts; e.g., Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, James Masterson, Sandy Hotchkiss, Sam Vaknin, Martha Stout, a combined work by Cynthia Zayn & Kevin Dibble, just to mention a few. In this process, I have solved many mysteries of Islam which remained mystery ever since the birth of Islam. Therefore there are many details in this book which are my original findings; these are not explained by any critic so far in the history of Islam. Only for this reason, I request the readers to read my book. Even if you have read hundreds of books on Islam, this book will always offer you something more.I have not written the book to make profit. This is absolutely a non-profit making project. The pre-publication formalities, as example; manuscript preparation, tracing, formatting, and proof-reading were done at Calcutta (India). All the expenditures were borne by me. It means the purchase cost of this book is even less than the production cost of each copy. I have taken every step to keep the cost of the book as low as possible. This book is also available as kindle edition. This e-version of the book is even cheaper. Those who live in Islamic countries should purchase the kindle version of the book. It is available at Amazon kindle.While promoting the book on Facebook, I have already received a death threat from a pro-Islam group for insulting their Prophet. What makes me sad is that some Christians and Hindus are also accusing me of offending Muslim sensibilities. They want me to withdraw the book from the market. I understand, objective historical research on Muhammad has long been severely handicapped both by the resistance of the Muslim societies to Western analysis of their sacred traditions and by the apologetic approaches of many Western scholars who had compromised their investigation for fear of offending Muslim sensibilities. Therefore, most of the books today tell us about Muhammad of faith not the Muhammad of history.Many freethinkers and scholars have endangered their lives by revealing to the public information about Muhammad and Islam that public had never heard before. For this reason; Theo Van Gogh was shot and stabbed to death in Netherlands and his associate Ayaan Hirsi Ali had to live with bodyguards and armored cars, Taslima Nasrin has been living in exile since 1994, Faraj Foda was shot dead in front of his office in Cairo, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd fled out of Egypt to escape the death penalty, and Sayyid Mahmoud al-Qimni was forced to recant all his writings. Unfortunately, before the outside world would get a chance to read their works, these writers were silenced through murder, terrorization, and death-threat, and their writings were banned in the Muslim world. I understand that by writing this book I am putting myself in a very dangerous situation, but at any cost I will not fall back, not even at the cost of my life. I will never withdraw the book from the market. Let the fanatics do whatever they can do. It is my birth-right to tell the truth and stand against the evil. How can I forget the sufferings of millions of innocent victims of Islamic jihad worldwide?Even if the Muslim clerics issue a fatwa on my head and eventually the fanatics kill me, still they will not be able to stop the truth from spreading. Truth is a fact and not a judgment. Muslims can discredit me the way they like, they can kill me but they cannot stop the truth from spreading. The hard fact is that Muhammad was not a Prophet of any God, he was a mental patient. Islam is the grand delusion of Muhammad. Muhammad was not the first person who claimed to have received messages from God. Throughout the recorded history of mankind, there are literally hundreds of thousands of people who declared themselves as a spokesman of God. Even today, in the mental hospitals and in the cult scene, we can find many mentally disordered and strange people who, likewise, believe to be regular recipients of messages from some unknown divine sources. They are “honest” in their claim and “sincere” in their declaration. Often those people manage to make others believe in their claims too. Many of them set themselves up as cult leaders, revered by a group of followers as their direct “telephone line” to God or the spirit world.Though as the author I hold the copyright of this book, the fact is that this book is out of my control. I have no regret for this; this book is a gift to you and I don’t want to have a control over this book. In fact I consider myself a very insignificant person. The truth and the new explanations that I put forward through this book are more important. When a researcher gives new explanations or critically analyzes something from a different perspective, the new ideas should not be the personal property of the author. In fact the author becomes a bond-servant of his creation. If, after reading the book, you have some further questions, I am directly responsible to give you reply. This book is a small gift to humanity from my side. That’s why this book is yours, not mine. Please purchase a copy and encourage others to purchase. Please promote this book – not for the author but for the sake of humanity.Lastly, I wish to have an intimate talk with the Muslims. I have absolutely no hate for you, my dearest Muslim brethren – let me be very clear on this matter. In fact many of my close friends are Muslims. How can I hate you, you are the first victims of Islam. Every Muslim is an abductee from the civilization in which he once belonged and put into a mental slavery. Same diagnosis is applicable to the Arabs also. Though they did not have to adopt foreign customs and language, which made the transition to Islam less disruptive, they too were cut off from their original pagan culture. Just break the myth of Muhammad and try to analyze the Muhammad of history, and then you will see the obvious falsehood of Islam. I have absolutely no intention to offend anyone; I just want to tell the truth. But, sorry, I cannot compromise my investigation for fear of offending Muslim sensibilities. Your beloved Prophet was a real devil who used religion to deceive you. Muhammad separated you from the real God of human race, the real Creator. The deception, death, and damnation of men were Muhammad’s life ambition. Your beloved Prophet was a vulgar imposter in a divine robe. He had valued you when he found that you could advance his religion, but devalued you at the next moment if you did not comply with his whims and wishes. He treated you as lifeless objects, and manipulated you so cunningly as if he had conquered you, “chained” you, conditioned you and moulded you. He exploited you as if he “knew” that he could do anything he wanted them to do. Throughout his prophetic endeavor, he derived his self-worth from you, as if he would collapse and self-annihilate without them. As long you practice Islam, you are a slave of Muhammad.According to me, most of the Muslims know virtually nothing about the Prophet of Islam because an honest biography of Muhammad was never written for them. There are enough pious and totally unobjective traditions of Muhammad preserved by the Muslim religious community, but what is lacking in these sources is honesty. Even today, numerous works in Arabic and other Muslim majority languages appear each year. These books try to portray Muhammad as a holy man, a seer, visionary and miracle worker; which are far away from truth. The reason, Muslims cannot write an honest biography of their Prophet, is that the biography of Muhammad is a subject that is taboo. That’s why Muslims learn about the Muhammad of faith, not the Muhammad of history. My book will help the Muslims to see the truth about the Prophet.I hate the ideology which enslaves the Muslims and make them terrorists. My stanch enemy is Islam and not the Muslims. I want to dismantle this doctrine of hate and murder. My intention is not only to confront Islamic jihad but at the same time to rescue the Muslims from the evil grip of Islam. I want to see the Muslims returning back within the fold of humanity by rejecting Islam.»freedomofspeech

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elizabethgoldlokidottir · 7 years

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Something Precious: Gold King Version, Ch. 1, The Meeting of the Dark Ones

The walls of Tartarus were a lot more common than one would expect. The deepest pit of Hades was now fit to meet the age of which the earth now held. It was like any other dungeon, but with differences that one would expect when entering the land of the dead. The glowing volcanic rock surrounded the prisoners, the hot stone serving as the building material for the bricks building the dungeon wall. The walls were paved with brimstone mixed with tar. The smell of sulfur wafted through the air as the foul environment encompassed the lowest criminals of the underworld. Through the smoke-strangled air an ancient language whispered and echoed. It spoke in a long lost language that no man or woman dead or alive remembered. It was the raw language of magic, speaking the raw language of the universe from which virtue and evil is built. The language could either goad the actions of man or push them away from such actions. In the middle of this particular dungeon sat a cracked black marble table, lit by a blue flame in the brazier at each corner of the room.

Perhaps even more terrifying were those who gathered around the table to meet. These had been the prisoners of this dark realm. They were known in life as the dark ones. They were the most feared sorcerers in the land. Like pit vipers, they could kill with a single strike. The men and women with glittering golden scales covering their bodies showed that same pension for greed. In life, every decision that they had ever made had been selfish. All magic is based on emotion, and theirs was born out of thoughts and emotions of darkness. Selfishness, greed, envy, pride, gluttony, adultery, cowardice, hatred, jealousy, bigotry, sadness, pain and fear only named a few fires which fueled their powers. They wore cloaks so dark that one could mistake them for shadows covering their glistening features. Around each of them was a heavy pile of golden chains. Every man, woman and child who dies receives a chain to bear as punishment for their misdeeds in life. Every act of kindness and goodness causes them to be free of a chain link. Every act of evil causes them to gain a chain link. A ponderous chain encircled and fettered each of these individuals, so many that their spirits could hardly move. Every one of their faces showed the same expression: one of regret.

There were two dozen of them that had lived these past four thousand years since the first dark one had walked the earth, yet only one of them was female. The first dark one appeared at the head of the table, a woman who had a sad and faraway look in her amber eyes. Zozo, the last dark one before the one who now lived was the first to speak up. “Nimue, why have you called us here? Aren’t our afterlives hard enough without some tedious meeting? Speak, woman.” And it should be noted that that one person was rather bitter, even more so than the others. Nimue, carrying the regal air of a queen, placed her hands on the table in a gesture of power and stood up among them once again. “I have called you here because we have a new dark one. Zozo has joined us in death, which means another dark one now lives.” Boron, another of these dark creatures spoke up bravely. “Yet we have never had a meeting before this. Why have you called us here when in the past we just let them live out their lives? Why have you called us here…why now?” Under the questioning, she maintained that queenly way in which she carried herself. “I have called this gathering because Rumplestiltskin has been called to a very important mission for the rest of us. He alone is fit among us to carry out this task. From his loins shall spring the new light one.”

With this admission, disagreeable sighs, glares of disbelief and restrained and doubtful laughter came from the rest. “Rubbish.” One of the others said. “There has not been a light one since Merlin and he has been transformed into a tree. He didn’t stand a chance. And of course you know all about that…” he said with somewhat of a teasing smirk. Nimue’s eyes immediately began to burn with anger and a look of heartbreak began to cross her face. An animalistic growl issued from her throat in the way that all dark ones growled when they became exceptionally angry. “You speak of Merlin that again and these claws go in your throat. I will find a way to make it hurt.” With this threat, the insubordinate one backed down and slunk to the end of the table where he once was. Zozo raised another point. “He does have a son, I know this to be true.” Nimue simply shook her head. “No. It will not be Baelfire who will carry on my lover’s legacy. The boy was spawned when Rumplestiltskin was human. Have you all forgotten the prophecy?” and what she had gotten back were blank stares.

She gave another growl as she paced back and forth like a human lion. “You didn’t even read the book of the dark one, did you? Unlimited power and ultimate opulence just to read a book and you still couldn’t do it!? And don’t give me that look, Rookworm, when each of you took on this mantle you were given the ability to read! Must I do everything myself? Men…” she said with an annoyed sigh and waved her hand. A book appeared in her hands. “Rumplestiltskin, another one who hasn’t even read it yet. He won’t miss it for a moment.” With a roll of her eyes she turned to one page in particular, an illuminated text with a celtic design of a horse with wings, and the only page in the book which had color. The vibrant colors and the gold text itself shone in the darkness, as if they entire page echoed the knowledge within its words.

One day, a second light one will return to walk the earth. This creature will pay the price of magic so that every dark one along with everyone who practices magic shall be not be automatically met with damnation at the end of their lives. This will come in the form of a child, for the innocence of children is the only light from which the magic of true love and light can emerge. The child will be the offspring of a human mother and a dark one father and the product of true love. Other children will come before her, but not one will meet this requirement. The sex shall be female to make amends for the actions of the first dark one. She will not be what you expect. She will meet many challenges and undergo much suffering within her life so that she will learn compassion for those who suffer. She will appear both in the form of a child and a horse. She will be the most powerful light magician to ever live and will bring light to those who dwell in darkness. She will feed the hungry, house the poor, and protect all children like herself. She will raise the dead. Horses will be sacred to her and animals will worship her. This child will come in an unexpected way. Therefore, do not judge by appearances, for a book cannot be judged by its cover.

“The problem is…” Nimue sighed some. “…this child will not be born for another three hundred years. Certain events must take place first before she can arrive in the world. And a certain mother must be chosen out of all. She must be Rumplestiltskin’s true love, not just some woman that he beds. She herself will not be born for another two hundred and seventy-five years. In order for us to be freed from our chains and from this prison, we must guide him towards the right path. The seer that spoke with him fourteen years ago has already set things in motion, but now she is even more under my control. I plan to inspire her to take a prophecy to him that will lead him down the right path. Until then, we must keep hope. She will return to us, and she will come to save us. This meeting is now adjourned.” And as soon as she said that, the spirits were gone, all to their separate cells in tartarus, Nimue being drawn back into her own. Her clawed hand lay over the one physical thing that she was allowed to bring with her into this realm. She closed her eyes and held the engagement ring gingerly within her claws. She remembered him…how he worked and slaved so hard to save up for that ring. She remembered how he had been transformed into a tree, how he had died. He was trying to stop her, trying to save her from herself. She had her own doubts. If Merlin could not save her…how could a child save all of them? But she would not lose hope. She would see him once again. I’m coming, my love. Wait for me still.

#fanfic #ouat #dark ones #OC #Rumplestiltskin #nimue #merlin

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friendshippresbyteriantaipe-blog · 7 years

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Romans, Reformation, FPC, and You!

by Pastor Dennis Brown

I hope you are receiving at least a small portion of what I am receiving by the recent series of messages on Romans that we began in September. As I have said on numerous occasions, the goal is that you and the church together would be rocked by the Romans revolution as Luther, Calvin, and all the Reformers were in the 16th century. For many of us it can seem like ancient history (yawn), and conjure images of memorizing dates for an eighth-grade history exam (yawn).

Over thirty years ago, my little world was rocked by Romans and the Reformation when I stumbled over some sermons by Charles Spurgeon (the great London, Baptist preacher of the 1800’s). He took me to the Bible and Christ and the gospel like no one ever had. I’m still recovering. Several other friends experienced the same revolution, and in our enthusiasm we even created a “dead theologians society” (a take-off on Robin Williams’ 1989 film, Dead Poets Society).

So you may say, what is all the fuss about? Or you might say, “We live in Asia — what do these old, dead, white (non-Asian) guys have to say to us in Taiwan in the twenty-first century?”

These old, dead, white guys discovered something that had gotten lost. Namely, the gospel! The church was in deep darkness, and Martin Luther discovered something that has changed entire civilizations and countless lives ever since. But, unhappily, it is equally true that the gospel has gotten lost in our own day. Most evangelical (not just Catholic) churches have no idea what Luther and Calvin and others were protesting. Remember they were called “Protestants.”

As a consequence, more often than not, evangelical “Protestant” churches have fallen into moralism, legalism, liberalism, or the prosperity gospel (which is no gospel at all). All of these are a departure from the pure, unadulterated gospel that we read about in Romans. In short, in too many places the gospel has gotten lost.

So what needs to be recovered? In a recent post on The Gospel Coalition Website (quoted at length below), Union School of Theology president Michael Reeves gives us three things about the Reformation that all of us should know. He also highlights some of what got lost then and continues to get lost today:

1. IT WAS ABOUT HAPPINESS. Luther discovered a powerful secret that would shake the world, unleashing happiness wherever it went. The secret was this: Failing, broken people “are attractive because they are loved; they are not loved because they are attractive.”

Could that be more counter cultural today? It is deep in our blood that the more attractive we make ourselves, the more loved and happy we will be. The Reformation was a story of one man discovering to his delight that, with God, it the other way around. God does not love people because they have sorted themselves out. He loves failures, and his love makes them flourish.

So Luther was concerned with people’s happiness. In fact, he would come to believe, he had found the secret of happiness. And that, at its heart, was what the Reformation was all about. Not moralizing. Not self-improvement. It was a discovery of stunningly happy news, news that would transform millions of lives and change the world.

2. IT WAS ABOUT FREEDOM. The Reformation was the beginning of Protestantism, so people sometimes assume it was simply about protesting, arguing, and getting tied up in knots about what was right and wrong to believe.

Yet when Luther wrote a short book to explain his discovery, he called it The Freedom of a Christian. In it we find that the Reformation was a freedom movement, not an excuse to impose new rules or complexity.

In fact, Luther argued that the gospel was breathtakingly straightforward. He said the good news he had found was like the story of a wealthy king (representing Jesus) who marries a debt-ridden prostitute (representing one who trusts him). The girl could never make herself a queen. But then the king comes along, full of love for her. And on their wedding day he makes his marriage vow to her. With that, she is his, and the prostitute becomes a queen. He takes and bears all her debts, and she now shares his boundless wealth and status.

It is not that she earned it. She didn’t become a queen by behaving royally. Indeed, she doesn’t know how to behave royally. But when the king made his marriage promise, he changed her status. Despite all her backstreet ways, the poor girl is now a queen.

Likewise, the greatest failure who accepts Jesus Christ gets to share his righteousness and status. What happens is a happy status-swap: When Jesus died on the cross, he absorbed and dealt with all our guilt and failure; and out of sheer love he now shares with those who trust him all his righteousness and life.

It means, wrote Luther gleefully: Her sins cannot now destroy her, since they are laid upon Christ and swallowed up by him. And she has that righteousness in Christ, her husband, which she may boast of as her own and say, “If I have sinned, yet my Christ, in whom I believe, has not sinned, and all his is mine and all mine is his.”

3. IT WAS ABOUT THE FUTURE. Consider these words, written by a team of scholars in Westminster, England, in the 1640s: “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.”

Those words capture the heart of the Reformation. For what Luther’s discovery had made abundantly clear was that God is glorious: beautiful, good, kind, and generous. We can therefore actually enjoy God. Not hate. Not avoid. Not appease. Enjoy.

This was all quite different to what so many had known before. As a monk Luther had confessed he’d come to hate God; doubtful of whether he’d made himself worthy of heaven, he shook with fear at the thought of how God might judge him on the last day. Yet armed with his new discovery, Luther realized he could face such fears like this:

“When the devil throws our sins up to us and declares that we deserve death and hell, we ought to speak thus: ‘I admit that I deserve death and hell. What of it? Does this mean that I shall be sentenced to eternal damnation? By no means. For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction in my behalf. His name is Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Where he is, there I shall be also.’ “

And so the terrifying doomsday became for him “the most happy Last Day.” The gospel had so transformed Luther’s life that he was able to look to the future with unshakeable hope and assurance that he would enjoy the living God forever. And there could be no better hope for hurting, hopeless people today.

Imagine what your life might be like if you experienced Luther and Calvin's Romans revolution? Imagine what we would be as a church if we experienced it together? Amen!

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