Is it possible….

Dante writes, he saw turmoil in the fourteenth century, when men of the organised religion lived like prince’s, sided with wealth, and often condemned innocent men and women, to all sorts of horrible existences, sometimes death, under the cover of the cloak of God they wore, which they used as a tool to control fortunes and  lives, when they were supposed to promote peace and goodwill. Not all, but those who sought position, in other words, those of the Ego.

He wrote of Venice under a flood, and today I am reading the words Dante wrote, his epic poem, translated of course, and Venice this day is under the most serious of flooding ever.  Oddly enough, this flooding, is reminding us of our neglect of the living environment, same as the signs that are appearing, reminding us of our divine inheritance, amen.

Solomon  sighed, we are being directed towards the Father of all creation, and while that Spirit flows it’s time ourselves, we too, are in the vineyard, and as in Venice, a major clean up is required, amen.

 

Days of Gratitude

How many of us have life changing experiences, Solomon listens, the preacher speaks, he retells the story of the ten lepers, healed, and how one in ten returned to give thanks, to God, so Jesus tells. Solomon listened, gratitude meant a lot to him, the day more poignant than most, his own recall a little blurred, his memory of events poor, but the results, never doubted. It was the anniversary of the perfect intervention in his own life.

 

To encounter the perfect intervention, where all that is seems lost, and all from then on is new, is rare indeed. The tingle in the feet, your still connected, the feet will move again, the lower body functions, how you got there, you have a faint recall, this must be the feeling you get, when you are born, how did I get there, and since so many do it the same way, you think nothing of it, it just happens.

So much we regard as a right, so the mob tells us, this is what your entitled to, and if you don’t get it, you ought to sue some one, there are lawyers on every corner, complain. So, there is the gardener, the flowers are sad, they have lost their luster, they don’t grow so strong, who does he complain to, probably himself, I didn’t use the right fertilizer. Then recall the mindset of the One who set the style of the flowers, the colors, their size, the smell; he does not get the same scent, the senses are not moved, the garden is plainly not that healthy, who does HE complain to.

Gratitude, how we respect the gifts we are given, and how we pass it on, it’s that simple, amen.

 

More Than Life Itself….

How often we hear those words, I love you more than life itself, it’s depth of meaning, words that every mother has written in her heart, her love for her children, is greater than all the other love she has. The work begins after the honey moon ends. This week is an anniversary for many reasons, the ending of the first great war, and the lives given, in order to prevent the same happening again. In a world of conflict, where common ground is rare, we all want to be successful, your religion differs from mine, you pray Sundays, we do it everyday, Saturday is better for us, well, I do it every other day, as they say, there are many areas of contention, and when it comes to choosing sides, it’s easy to get dragged into issues, just because we are made aware of all these differences. I don’t think Jesus would have shared our differences, and when His life is examined closely, and all religions lay claim to his Being, he made a point of meeting and dining with all, for Him, it was a question of passing on the Spirit, regardless of your faith or circumstance. 2,000 years later, there are signs appearing on a daily basis, all saying the same thing, reform. So if we Love as we claim to do, and if we have Faith, as billions claim to do, it’s time to regard our differences, the same way we regard flowers in the garden; well, we all love flowers, amen.

Our World

We are the tenants in this world, the means for gathering we have been given, in our race to success, we tampered with the mixture, added chemicals to hurry the growth, we hurried to progress without thought of consequence, left our mistakes to the next generation, not that we planned it, we just hoped. Addiction to the material brought us to the brink, there is a limit, but when there is no water to drink, as they say, the options become limited, and in our efforts to distract others from our faults, we started wars to rally support for our schemes. If this sounds like an apology, I sure hope this is what you assume, how can we plead for mercy if we are not contrite and real. There are many flowers in the garden, multi colored, all races, all different sizes of fields, the reality of the words of Jesus, we are called to be Samaritans not judges, as some try to believe. There are no favorites, everyone is treated the same, we are compassion, we are love, we are charitable, if we truly believe. We are the tenants in that old parable, this you must believe.

Solomon was listening to the words of a far off preacher, a man of Godly esteem was having a final goodbye, he saw the crowd, many of them celebrities, and these are the thoughts he had. As Ezra says; when the day comes and you must face the judgement, you will only have your deeds and what comes out of your mouth to defend you, amen.

An Irish Legend…Gay Byrne

Considering the world is going green, and green is the shoot that pops from the dirt, fills us with tidings of new life, It’s good to recall those that set the stage of change and encouraged understanding during their lives. Solomon heard the news, a favorite of the nation had passed on, and there is rejoicing in the Heavens to go with it, as another soul makes the grade and enters into the eternal life, so many assume so, and why not.

It’s not often you meet with those who calmly encourage change and give opportunity to those who have a different voice, thereby enlightening people, especially at a time, when there was so much inner control asserted by  a very dominant organisation. Mr Gabriel Byrne was one such man, not the actor but the TV presenter.

Two hours of chat on a Friday night, the attention of the nation, no malice or spite, he opened the doors for many artists, and continued to do so all his life, he didn’t allow religious indoctrination to control the output of his show, and was always encouraging the well being and kindness, that so many try to encourage today. A man  head of his time, he allowed diversity to grow and hearts to widen, gave a platform for many to explain themselves, and wasn’t afraid to take a chance. Staid he was not.

Compare the fortunes of those organisations that attempt to control the lives and habits of others, they usually end in failure when their is no compassion in them, amen.

A man of God he will always be, Gay Byrne, rest in peace, amen.

 

2019

A hundred years of a plague, an unstoppable flu, it happened, not your imagination, the history of the dark ages, Popes far from holy, removed from the teaching of Christ Jesus, dearth of loving Spirit, demons, and then the recovery, the reformation, the renaissance, Leonardo Da Vincii

, others, don’t be alarmed, it’s true, Michelangelo, and a host of great artists, commissioned, to resurrect the reputation of The Holy Roman Church, and to inspire faith in God Most High.

Do we raise the Spirit today, when we ask, have we done what we said we would, or is it wishful thinking? Is it the old thinking, we will get away with it, is that the message we send out, are we chancers, great pretend artists, hoping to get away with it, hiding our own stuff, then pointing elsewhere, do you assume you can fool God, because you got away with it for so long, are you impressed when someone with clerical power tells you your fine, as if it’s an absolution, didn’t they say the same all those years ago.

Why is God called merciful, Patient and enduring, do some assume more of the old will suffice, do they assume God is silly, history tells us otherwise, don’t be alarmed, but it’s better to play cards with all the deck in play, at least you have a decent chance, how many lives have been stolen by under the table ways, do you assume it’s wise to undermine Spirit, you can’t possibly assume it will be allowed to go on, and as the Spirit strengthens, the words of the prophets  sharpen and seriously accurate, it’s not written to fool anyone, it’s written to enlighten, the numbers, Moses and the desert, Ezra and the trumpet, Noah and the boat, the warnings of Jesus, do you all assume it’s wild talk.

Do church people assume a safety net, it’s deeds it’s actions that denote you, cover ups fine, will admiring the objects on the mantel piece give you any comfort when you face your last days, will you admire them and smile, and say, they are mine, what good is it, they will be someone else’s as soon as your gone, like a door that closes, gone, and when you realize it, will all those great ideas mean anything if all they did, was stay in your head, every race has a conclusion, and it’s 2,120 years since the time of Jesus, Spirit in the form of a man, 2,800 years since Ezra.

Breakfast Feast

I’m hungry, she is tired of hearing those words, she is a mile from the white house, roaming the streets of the most powerful city in the world, she is not alone. Downtown, they pour over dishes their lobbyists pay for, while the shelters turn people away. They have eyes but can’t see, is there a message in that, they wont attend a meeting either unless they get paid expenses. I’m hungry he says again, she feels the change in her pocket, soon she says.

Solomon sighed, a deep heart felt sigh, the love connects the light shines, the words of Jesus are made real; allow God to reside inside you and transform your life, it’s that simple.

She gets a seat in a side cafe, it’s Irish owned, the manager is an Irish Emigrant woman, she serves the biggest breakfasts in town. From the counter she watches the eyes of the small one, how he watches the tray laden with food for another table pass close by. His eyes widen, a little hopeful smile appears, i’ll be having that soon. Her heart breaks each time she see’s that expression on a small face, hoping. As for the loud mouth campaigners, they make the noise and then hide behind their private gates; do they say such words of thoughtfulness just to antagonize us all. Mary is practical; hunger can’t wait. if only one of them.. if only one had the courage of their words, some day, some day she hopes.