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.

 

Music Words Rhythm….R..

Lasting impressions, the music that sticks, it is more than memory, it’s emotions. The song is from a time past, you might have heard it as a child, it could have been the first time you felt a Spiritual presence, it is lots of things. Funny how the big ego stuff never makes the cut, too much of the artist too little of the talent, distractions. Solomon sighed, there are moments in your life, the first time you escaped out the back window, climbed down the roof, hopped onto the ground and hurried off to the gig, with friends of course, never with those unknown. Young, the rules don’t matter that much, same as your hormones, you hear the music, inside you start to blaze as the rhythm runs through, your naive ideal and young, haven’d suffered the fears of the elders; well they are more experienced, its’ not your fault or theirs, and nearly all the time you get home safe. There is no darkness, the world is yours, its a choice.

 

Then you age, the experiences build up, the cover up begins, there are problems at home, stuff you want to hide, it could be an addictive parent, it could be anything.

Solomon sighed, It’s wonderful to think that God is the same to all, amen, the eternal friend never deserts you, unlike those who want from you. Solomon was reliving a night many years before, not old enough to vote either, but the memory lived on, in a corner of his mind. Music with real Spirit has great power, I hope you have a good listen, amen.

We are all refugees

 

Treat us well, nothing gracious, just be gentle, don’t look down on me, so I am a refugee, tired and tortured, have you any idea, what a welcome means, a wide eyed smile, not the stare of suspicion, had enough of those, in my shoes you have a different view, pushed about, moved on, unwanted, voiceless, those who speak up for us, ready, the cameras, the sixty seconds of hope, someone might care about us, those protests, don’t know where to turn, just want to put the head down, can’t return, what is there left, we put faith in it, trusted above, go and find, maybe that is the welcome, the real presence of God, not the words, maybe we are walking faith, ever think of that, hardly, you remind me of my family, all you do is count the cost, isn’t everyone doing it, ignoring the blessings, what a possibility, what economist can value that, Solomon sighed, he understood the plight of the refugee, there had been many exodus’s over time, he thought of the actions of certain leaders, how their actions lifted, did the impossible, and those not so good at leading, but using the word of God, he wondered at their fate, in a time of change, the outcomes weren’t too hard to figure out, if you know what I Mean? History and the exodus were we being tested.

 

So many parallels, as if history had been compressed in a few lives, the movements,

Feed Me Words

Feed them words, show them deeds, ignite the Spirit, give them the words of life. words. How do you arrange them, are we designers, the way we arrange things, the rules we insert to thwart things. Can’t you see, you are not allowed do that, can’t you read the signs, more words, are you having those thoughts again, words. Darn, we need more of the life giving words.

Solomon sighed, words began and words will end it all, and that was and is a great truth, how words impact on us. Jesus reminded them, words, and deeds are what you think of them, words.

How Many Victims do you Need?

Solomon sighed, the dream, the frenzy, the fear, the blood hatred in the eyes of those seeking justice, the lengths they were willing to go, they wanted their victim, they sought blood. Was this a re telling of the Great Play, by William, The Merchant of Venice, how our desire for so called justice blinds the light inside us.  It was dream time, and he was sharing the worries of another, a young relation of a war victim, as everyone who partakes in war are victims, the winners and the losers, what are they left with; the fields of Vietnam, the concentration camps of world war two, so many victims. Solomon reflected on how the values of an older generation were side lined, as a more modern minded, justice now mind set, took over the leadership of many flocks, and how they used past hatreds to corral the flock into action. None of them held memorials for the millions of children, abused indirectly over the internet, having to digest what few of us could escape unharmed from. How many lives had ended, when the posse was in pursuit, Jesus among them, the thirst for justice becoming a drug as the mob got larger and larger. Revelation sighed Solomon, they might not listen to the words of the Prophets, but they did react to revelation, knowing their day for their judgement could arrive any given day.

Solomon smiled, he caught the dream, listened, saw the spotlight shine on the so called refugee, villain, the light shone for a minute, perhaps less, the mob now has a thirst, the chase over this time, they headed off in search of another. Father, Teach them he prayed. They try to raise the fears in others to justify themselves; and the harm they cause grows like a virus. Solomon say the signs, saw the Spirit, what a sight, and every day since, he was writing rescue remedies, with a lot of success.

Mother and Child

The line is getting close to the check out, she holds her daughter’s hand tight. In a few hours, she will be in another world, a little frightened the way all new visitors feel, when they are somewhere new. Young, too young, she rebelled and ran away from home, that was ten years ago. twenty six now, with a three year old child, she made friends with the first man that seemed okay, she is wiser now, back then she was on the run. She reflects while she stands inline, her life has changed, the small hand in hers, a new responsibility. To be free from the influence, her boy friend so controlling, she hated the life, maybe that’s how a mother feels. She looks at the small human being holding her hand, her life line to the world, yes, that’s me she says to herself. Why has this child taken over my life; she laughed when she heard of friends with children on the way, the way they acted, pretending she imagined; how can one person have such a hold on your life.

The desk assistant smiles when she proffers her pass port. She reaches over the desk, catches sight of the little girl;. going to a new world she says with a smile. The little girl looks at her Mother, hopeful.

Solomon sighed, how many were on the road to freedom across the world. Compassion, love and charity, the very basics required of all those who called themselves believers, amen.

One Day

The room is full of machines, she is lying on the bed, slowly in recovery from the shock, a shopping trip, she ends up at the hospital instead, the change in circumstance. Life changes so suddenly, she is unsure, strangers about her, a friend enters the room, she breathes a sigh of relief. There is a real conversation, what happened the friend says. She looks at the machines before continuing. I felt dizzy, and must have blacked out. Her friend sighs to herself, no slur in the speech, no stroke.  The two friends look at each other; they have been partners for a long time, doing everything together. What would I do if anything happened you she says, the visitor. One change and we are all affected, are we selfish to think this way. One day your buoyant and going places, the next day your a stone in the wall, someone else is leaning on you. Experience is like that. All the pebbles, the days that seemed nothing, now lying there, she is glad to have an ordinary day, any day free from the machines. If she walks away on her own steam she will be satisfied.

Solomon heard news of a friend who had a sudden health change. The circle of friends had lost a cog, and while it is temporary, it’s still a hole in the circle. The roles we play in life, the harmless seeming moments, when a regular stranger stops by and enjoys the company, respite from a crazy world. How the Spirit needs a rest from the drama’s of the world and the failure of many of the religious to understand the basics of Spiritual needs. One day they would hopefully understand, amen.

It happens, the sudden changes, the appeal to God Most High, the call. Do we hear the cry of the emigrant, or did we turn our eyes away when we saw the poverty on the street, embarrassed to look in case it was a disease you could catch. One day, the question will be on all our lips, could we have done more.