A couple of days ago I found a site on YouTube that arrested my attention. SermonIndex.net contained portions from the sermons of six preachers whose ministry together spanned more than half a century in different locations. Whatever their geographic locations, their sermons had a common theme. With one voice, they contended that there was a […]
“Imagine it, your thoughts can be used to remedy, heal, improve, restrict demons, curtail extremism, and an awful lot more, while being still able to enjoy a nice glass of wine, not forgetting the simple things, the peace of mind that good sleep brings, imagine, those demons of the night, they can do nothing, simply aware, of the future that awaits them, and being merciful, at least they get the opportunity to amend, and it’s all real.”
“Are you for real she says”, interrupting his flow. I only asked him about the book he was reading, she didn’t expect a thesis.
They are sitting side by side on the Jet, they are both flying across the ocean, strangers, she had asked a question about a book he was reading, “the imitation of life according to Jesus”. It’s a five hour flight, and he reminds her of someone from her past. She does not fear asking questions. Well, if he is reading a book about “Jesus”, he has to be friendly and easy to open a dialogue with, she hopes. Her own trust in the world is on a downer, divorced, discarded, dumped, thrown overboard, at a loose end, she is looking for the light. She’s been in this frame of mind all day, the journey she is making, a rest and escape from it all.
You don’t believe he says with a smile. Her eyes rise in her head, she looks at the ceiling, if only he knew she thinks. Dumping her stuff on a stranger, who wants to hear about other peoples woes. She purses her lips, half looks at the book cover, then begins to speak.
“If he was so right way back then, it seems he has disappeared don’t you think,” she lowers her eyes to the book.
Jesus she says again. He smiles, it’s catching isn’t it he smiles. The more you think of the Holy Name, the memories and feelings that are created. Well she says, you seem confident about it, can you explain it simply for me. He hums and haws. No one want’s to be a bad teacher, and not every question can be answered as if it’s coming from a machine or robot.
His tongue swirls around his mouth, he catches the scent of her perfume, it makes his nose itchy, he reaches up and rubs his nose.
“Spirit he says, it’s inside you, and there is the Spirit of God, that stuff you call the soul. If you imagine your soul as a new computer, without scratches, then years later, used, with a few cuts and smears, after years of usage, when you are prepared to put it in the rubbish, you might call it a journey. Life is like that disc. What condition is it in at the end of the journey when it’s returned to the original vendor, do you get me he says.”
She is confused, she is trying to get her head around it. Who wants a philosophy lesson on a mid Atlantic flight. Computer discs, souls, the condition at the end, she is thinking all these bits. He looks at her, can see that she is digesting what he has said, waits.
Confusing he says, she pauses, well, it’s not what I expected. The air hostess is passing with the trolley. Can I have a gin and tonic he says, and yourself he says. Non drinker she says.
She listens to the crackle of the ice, as the liquid flows over the ice. He listens and talks well, she wonders how long the flight is, there are many questions she wants answers to. Being an achiever all her life, this conversation is something she does not want to miss. Her Heart feels lighter, that name she sighs, Jesus.
My head she said, can anyone say it straight, stop trying to make an impression, what are you doing it for, you got a fat wallet, you got a gun, am I supposed to shrink cause I don’t. bully me no more she said, then spat at him, while waiting for what would happen next, she has guts he thought, she unhinged him, he wasn’t in control, make him feel weak, the expression on her face, angered him, that a woman could have control over him, wasn’t in fear, didn’t mind death. His power is gone, she is now an extra in a movie, once the camera moves they will all forget the scene, the audiece, that’s it, what other people think, it has been this way a long time, that fear which we allow to control our lives. Hadn’t they seen a western movie occasionally, life is one decision making process.
The Roman Governor gives the sign, the gladiators plunge their swords, the crowd roars, the emperor gets to his feet, takes the accoldades, nods and bows, the roar rises while the blood mixes with the sand, The remaining hostages shriek, this is our fate, they close their eyes, don’t try to escape. One man stands before the emperor, hands raised, what are you going to do with me he shouts, the gladiator has the sword raised, the emperor nods, the man falls to the ground, gone it seems.
Jesus tried to tell them, simply, the Kingdom of God is inside you, it’s Spirit, you can’t kill it. All these years later, we still recall the simple words, say it straight will you.
I told you, the weary eyed child nods, so it feels. The lure of the drug does not seem all that far out, well, anything is better than this. Big mouth politician shouts the words they all want to hear, reminds them of the threat far off, it will arrive here he says, the nods of the head, there appears to be wisdom in what he says. The voice gets a listenership, followers too, he leads them along his own closed way, nothing is good, but there is an escape. How easy to lead those hurting, the right words at the right time, so easy it seems.
Solomon sighed, they said the same about Jesus, how he was undermining the world of old, as for his promise of eternity, they didn’t understand it, they became prophets of doom, their own.
In the coming world, when God dwells among all, none of the religions would be necessary, and there is no trouble with that. Those addicted to control and the regulations, well, they might find it hard to absorb, but wasn’t that the truth. when you are not ill there is no need for medical assistance, is there?.
She passed on, this day in fact, the year 1431, burnt at the stake, she heard the voice of God, was filled with the Spirit, the same power that gives the swallow a lift, fly, the bird flies, and before her, as said all those years ago, by Jesus Christ, you murdered the prophets of God, and then built tombs to them and venerated them afterwards, the words of ancient scripture, come through, while the prophets are a tide that never fails to arrive, washing away the stone of stubborness, planted in the souls of men, who envied power and control. But the tide of Prophets comes and comes again, same as those warriors facing the machine guns with only swords in their hands. Is this the reason we are given examples of huge human loss, as the human tide tries to overcome the demon, amen. Solomon sighed, it is one way of viewing the journey, and the ever lasting eternal gift that is waiting, when the walls are breached and torn down. The souls mount up, the Body of Christ strengthens, layer after layer, until they fill the body of Man, thereby allowing the return of God’s Holy Spirit to earth. Solomon smiled, yeah, we have come to that moment, thank you Joan of Arc, and all those you inspired, amen.
Ironic really, those that tried to control the earth now have to clean up the mess they created, hurry up boys!
It’s not easy to cope with it, the stuff that you are exposed to, the tired mind and the stuff that has been fed into it, and the experts and what they have been doing about it, the troubled man is young, he has seen so much, puts it into his sounds, rousing the Spirit, hoping to hit those who caused the mess, remind them of the disaster they have visited on the world, one day they will listen and sit up, he gets his guitar, gives it a rip, the noise screeches, the sound of a child crying out, a troubled man, who came up with this, where were all the experts, asleep.
Solomon was imagining what it was like, your young, too young, the stuff you see, it can’t be human, what strangers came up with this stuff, a question a lot of people want to ask, and what are they going to do about it. They call about the environment, the ice melts, the polar bear screams, the roar, what are you doing to my world, calls out to his creator, same as the one who made life possible, the vineyard tenants have been asleep, chances are things are going to change, raise the Spirit and become part of it.
It is time to shake the cobwebs, and to stop putting the head in the sand, ignorance or fantasy is not going to sort this, clean water, what, and you are worried about putting on a little weight, get real, who wants to worry about fitting into a coffin anyway.
Rejoice, Amo was laughing, stuck to the bed in body, his Spirit was flying, aged, ninety or thereabouts, useless in the eyes of the material minded, gold in the eyes of God. He was a mature wine, and holding court to anyone who would listen. Solomon had come to visit, on his Spirit journey. The Sky opens, the sun bursts, the light from Heaven, the Power that speaks life Eternal, it’s not a fairy tale after all. You are not alone. Amo smiled, as another chocolate entered his mouth, he loves sweet stuff.
The meeting of Spirit, the opportunity to pass on wisdom. Solomon knew without doubt, that Amo was heading up, and he wanted to get a petition in, in advance of Amo’s return. Use the connection, Amo was bringing home a soul full of good deeds, and the Eternal Father was going to be smiling. Solomon being a close relative of Amo was not one to lose such a golden opportunity.
Earlier that week, the demon Angels had tried to push Solomon off course, as regular as race horses not trying to win, only trying to confuse him, hoping to sow doubts, the stuff they had been doing all their life, feeding fear into the Universe, Solomon was waiting for them, expecting them to do exactly that. Play dumb, be stupid, but act wisely. They will never suspect a thing. By the time they take the bait, it’s game over, they will come under the radar of heaven.
Solomon, in that mindset, was giving old Amo a pet talk. Ask for a little more he said, Amo raised his eyes, at ninety years of age, do you think I’m a work horse, what do you mean. How about an end to extremism, and assistance to those building the bridges of understanding between the people of the book. Amo nodded, I will do that sighed Amo, who loved everything that had Heavenly advice in it.
It’s great to have friends in High Places, amen.