Wisdom of Solomon

"For they thought that all their heathen idols were gods, though these have neither the use of their eyes to see with, nor nostrils with which to draw breath, nor ears with which to hear, nor fingers to feel with, and their feet are of no use for walking. For a man made them, and one whose spirit is borrowed formed them; for no man can form a god which is like himself. He is mortal, and what he makes with lawless hands is dead, for he is better than the objects he worships, since he has life, but they never have.
-Wisdom of Solomon 15:15-17

Origen Rom7

"Is it the law of Moses that through which Adam knew his sin and hid himself from the presence of the Lord? Is it the law of Moses through which Cain knew his sin and said, 'My sin is greater than that I should be left alive'
...Rather, it is the law concerning which we have frequently said is in everyone's hearts, 'written not with ink, but by the Spirit of the living God,' and teaches each man what ought to be done and what ought to be avoided. It is the same [law], then, through which a man knows his own sin. For it speaks to us within the conscience and says, 'You shall not covet.'"
--Origen commenting on Rom7 passage

Penthos

"A brother sought out an old man and said to him, 'What shall I do? I am tortured by pride.' The old man said to him, 'You are right to be proud, since it is you who made heaven and earth.' At this the brother katanugeis, touched with compunction, made a prostration and said, 'Forgive me, I have done nothing of the sort.'"
-Penthos:The Doctrine of Compunction in the Christian East p.9

TURN IN, TURN IN

"The Light of Christ Within, who is the light of the world, (and so a light to you, that tells you the truth of your condition,) leads all, that take heed unto it, out of darkness into God's marvellous light. For light grows upon the obedient; it is 'sown for the righteous,' and their way is a shining light, that shines forth more and more to the perfect day. Wherefore, O friends, TURN IN, TURN IN, I beseech you; where there is the poison there is the antidote. There you want Christ and there you must find Him; and blessed be God there you may find Him."
--William Penn

The Potter and the Clay

"...Suppose I were to describe to a person who was entirely ignorant of the subject the way in which a lump of clay is made into a beautiful vessel. I tell him first the part of the clay in the matter; and all I can say about this is that the clay is put into the potter's hands, and then lies passive there, submitting itself to all the turnings and overturnings of the potter's hands upon it. There is really nothing else to be done about the clay's part. But could my hearer argue from this that nothing else is done because I say that this is all the clay can do? If he is an intelligent hearer he will not dream of doing so, but will say, "I understand; this is what the clay must do. But what must the potter do?: "Ah," I answer, "now we come to the important part. The potter takes the clay thus abandoned to his working, and begins to mold and fashion it according to his own will. He kneads and works it; he tears it apart and presses it together again; he wets it and then suffers it to dry. Sometimes he works at it for hours together; sometimes he lays it aside for days, and does not touch it. And then, when by all these processes he has made it perfectly pliable in his hands, he proceeds to make it up into the vessel he had proposed. He turns it upon the wheel, planes it and smooths it, and dries it in the sun, bakes it in the oven, and finally turns it out of his workshop, a wessel to his honor and fit for his use."
--Hannah Whitall Smith

John Woolman

"...If compassion on the Africans in regard to their domestic troubles were the real motives of our purchasing them, that spirit of tenderness being attended to would incite us to use them kindly, that as strangers brought out of affliction their lives might be happy among us; and as they are human creatures, whose souls are as precious as ours and who may receive the same help and comfort of the Holy Scriptures as we do, we could not omit suitable endeavors to instruct them therein. But while we manifest by our conduct that our views in purchasing them are to advance ourselves, and while our buying captives taken in war animates those parties to push on that war and increase desolations amongst them, to say they live unhappy in Africa is far from being an argument in our favor."
--John Woolman

Hurray for Origen!

"From all these testimonies it is deduced that the heretics whom we mentioned above, and whoever there is who agrees with them in interpreting these words as spoken about the law of Moses, have been unable to touch even remotely upon the Apostle's meaning. Instead, this passage ought to be understood, as we have already repeatedly said, of the law of nature which is written "not on stone tablets but on the fleshly tablets of the heart, not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God." This law has been inscribed by the one who created man in the beginning..."
--Origen commenting on Romans 5:20-21 ^_^

Jon Trott

"And then it hit me. This is how women feel. This is how it feels to be a women in a man's world- the cool male eyes running up and down your body like they own it- the casual comment, the wolf-whistle, the wink."
-Are Men Really Human? A Melancholy but not without hope personal reflection on male sexuality. by Jon Trott

The Theologian and the Mourner

"Theology and mourning do not go together, for the one dissipates the other. The difference between a theologian and a mourner is that the one sits on a professional chair while the other passes his days in rags on a dung heap."
--St. John Climacus, Ladder of Divine Asccent 7:27

Look up later

p.212 Hesychius, John Chrysostom
225-226 Macarius the Great
235 Matthew the Poor "Spiritual Aridity"
237 " " "The Relationship btw Aridity and the Will"
243 " " "Reasons for spiritual struggle""Spiritual Languor as a Discipline for the Ambitious Soul"

BunchOhStufF

"Do not imagine that merely the possession of gold and silver is possessiveness; rather, it is the acquisition of anything whatsoever that your will clings to."
--St. Isaac the Syrian, Homilies 4, in Ascetical Homilies, p30

"In the same way those who are burning with a holy and venerable longing for the heavenly Spirit are wounded in their soul with love for the love of God. They burn with a divine and heavenly fire which the Lord came on this earth to enkindle, and how he wishes that it be quickly accomplished (Lk 12:49). They are inflamed with a heavenly longing for Christ so that everything, as was said, that is of this world, considered outstanding and precious is repulsive and despised on account of the fire of their love for Christ who binds them, burns them, and inflames them with a passion for God...From such a love nothing of the earth or underworld will seperate them, as the apostle Paul testified, namely: "Who will seperate us from the love of Christ?" (Rom 8:35).
--St. Macarius the Great, Homilies 9:9, in Spiritual Homilies

"As Christ, having taken on "the form of a servant" (Phil 2:7), through humility conquered the devil, so at the beginning through pride and vainglory the serpent overthrew Adam. And now the same serpent, hiding in human hearts, through vainglory destroys and dissolves the race of Christians."
--Macarius the Great, Homilies 27:5, in Spiritual Homilies

"Humility, even without works, gains forgiveness for many offenses; but without her, works are of no profit to us."
--St. Isaac the Syrian, Homilies 69, in The Ascetical Homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian, p338

"Men of high spirit endure offense nobly and willingly. But only the holy and saintly can pass unscathed through praise."
--St. John Climacus, Ladder of Divine Ascent 22:12

"So long as you are in this life, scorn your self by the constant remembrance of your sins. Confess them before the merciful God in contrition and you will gain intimacy with him."
--St. Isaac the Syrian, in "The Four Books," 1:4

"If your heart is brazenly confident of your works and knowledge, then know that this foreshadows impending tribulations."
--" "

Sight on God

"Everything is possible to faith if man fixes his sight on God and not on the thing desired."
--St. Isaac the Syrian, in "The Four Books"

St. Antony the Great

"Turn this body in which you are clothed into a censer in which you burn all your evil thoughts and musings. Raise them before the Lord that he might raise your hearts to him. Ask him with all the might you possess in your minds to bring down his immaterial fire from on high to consume all that is found i that censer and purify it...You will then see [the new] man coming out as water from the divine font..."
--St Antony the Great, Letters 6.8, in "The Letters," Arabic version

Matthew The Poor

"But because of God's compassion upon you, he does not show you your shame and nakedness all at once, lest your sould be swallowed up in grief. He but unveils to you bit by bit pages of the lawsuits of your fornication, your haughtiness, your wrath, your rebellion, your theft, your calumny, your envy, and your jealousy. He shows you that they all stand against you still, but in suspension, sealed with the blood of Christ and waiting for an honest repentance and a holy covenant.
--Matthew The Poor, Orthodox Prayer Life: The Interior Way

Isaiah 43:2

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, Nor will the flame burn you."
-Isaiah 43:2

Christina Hoff Sommers

"Many school systems have entirely given up the task of character education. Children are left to fend for themselves. To my mind, leaving children alone to disover their own values is a little like putting them in a chemistry lab and saying, 'Discover your own compounds, kids.' If they blow themselves up, at least they have engaged in an authentic search for the self." --Christina Hoff Sommers

St. John Climacus

"It is not the self-critical who reveals his humility (for does not everyone somehow have to put up with himself?). Rather it is the man who continues to love the person who has criticized him."

"After a long spell of prayer, do not say that nothing has been gained, for you have already achieved something. For after all, what higher good is there than to cling to the Lord, to persevere in unceasing union with him?"
--St. John Climacus, Ladder of Divine Ascent

The Appearance of God

The appearance of God is ineffable and indescribable and cannot be seen by eyes of flesh...For if I say he is Light, I name but his own work; if I call him Word, I name but his soverignty; if I call him Mind, I speak of His wisdom; if I say he is Spirit, I speak of his breath; if I call him Wisdom; I speak of his offspring; if I call him Strength, I speak of his sway; If I call him Power, I am mentioning his activity; if Providence, I but mention his goodness; if I call him Kingdom, I but mention his glory; if I call him Lord, I mention his being judge; if I call him Judge, I speak of him as being just; if I call him Father, I speak of all things as being from him; if I call him Fire, I but mention his anger... and all things God has made out of things that were not into things that are, in order that through his works his greatness may be known and understood.
--Theophilus to Autolycus

The Great Divorce

"the action of pity will live for ever; the passion of pity will not."
-C.S. Lewis: The Great Divorce, p.111

Theophilus

But if you say,"Show me thy God," I would reply, "Show me yourself, and I will show you my God." Show, then, that the eyes of your soul are capable of seeing, and the ears of your heart able to hear...For God is seen by those who are enabled to see him when they have the eyes of their soul opened...So also when there is sin in man, such a man cannot behold God...The appearance of God is ineffable and indescribable and cannot be seen by eyes of flesh...When thou shalt have put off the mortal and put on incorruption, then shalt thou see God worthily. For God will raise they flesh immortal with they soul; and then, having become imortal, thou shalt see the Imortal, if now you believe in him. --Theophilus to Autolycus

Homily on the Love of God (Man 19)

They ran impetuously along the way of sorrows, bearing the torments of their own hearts. They crucified their members and passions contentedly. They drank the bitterness of gall with pleasure. Beloved! You robbed them of everything, even their own selves. They felt no longer alive, for it was you who lived in them... When harships surrounded them on every side, they no longer sought to be exempted from them. Instead, they asked for more sufferings, they pleaded for the patience to endure them for their Beloved's sake.
-
These people were drunk with love. When they heard their Beloved say, "Blessed are those who mourn now," they could not stop mourning.
-
What mourning! The man's heart would ignite with love, would explode with living water! When his knees could no longer support him in his prayer he fell on his face. Trying to stand up, he would fall down again. His eyes streamed with flaming tears, burning his cheaks with their fire and flowing down on the earth to purge it from its curse.
-
How shall I describe to you, divine love! You have elevated the human soul and seated her in the light of her Maker. You have washed her until she looked like her Master. The loving soul tamed the wildest beasts; they saw in her the image of her Maker, they could breathe his heavenly fragrance.
-
It is not only wild beasts who submitted to the [saintly] human soul, but even demons were terrified at seeing her illumined with love. They fled when they saw in her the image of God's authority. ---St. John of Dalyatha, Homily on Love and the Love of God, in "The Homilies of the Spiritual Elder [John of Dalyatha]," Manuscript 19.

Contemplation

In contemplation, it is truth that actually begins to surround one's mind and to overwhelm it. The more the mind is quiet and silent, the more divine truth radiates, shines, and transfigures within it.
--p.56 Orthodox Prayer Life: The Interior Way by Matthew The Poor

Whispers in the Dark; Skillet

Whispers In The Dark Lyrics
Despite the lies that you're making
Your love is mine for the taking
My love is just waiting
To turn your tears to roses
-
Despite the lies that you're making
Your love is mine for the taking
My love is just waiting
To turn your tears to roses
-
I will be the one that's gonna hold you
I will be the one that you run to
My love is a burning, consuming fire
-
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear the whispers in the dark
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear the whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
-
You feel so lonely and ragged
You lay there broken and naked
My love is just waiting
To clothe you in crimson roses
-
I will be the one that's gonna find you
I will be the one that's gonna guide you
My love is a burning, consuming fire
-
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear the whispers in the dark
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear the whispers in the dark
-
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes I'll light the night with stars
Hear the whispers in the dark
No, you'll never be alone
When darkness comes you know I'm never far
Hear the whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark
Whispers in the dark

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_ct6RiJDyQ

Under The Lone Tree

--Kathy Quient
(shhh don't tell...she won 1st place in the Dana Point Branch Library poetry contest)

The sun shines down,

The stream runs quiet,

The distant noise a mere hum,

As the wind steadily wraps me is coolness.

-

May I linger here for just a little while longer? May I

intrude upon this sacred consolation?

-

Rest my eyes for just a little while longer;

Perhaps read under the lone tree?

-

And what of this book I hold in my hands?

My mind seeks to take me on some grand adventure,

But I need not allow my body to follow,

Lest I wake from this beloved dream.

-

May I bask in this precious place of solace? May I

grasp this moment just a little while longer,

-

Lest the chaos of my days intrude upon my dwelling.

"God did not create the death of either soul or body. He did not say, 'Die in the day that you eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,' but, 'You will die in the day you eat of it.' Nor did He say, 'Retrun to dust,' but, 'You will return to dust,' foretelling and allowing and not prohibiting what would happen."
--Palamas

Stitches

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=2029459816

A Knight At Night

--By Her Royal Abbettness... Sarah Abbett

He stared above him,

Into the inky blackness

That held the aloneness of the howling desert

And the ache of his heart

He waited for a glimpse of her

His heart beat like the horse

Galloping away from a panther

Who was preparing to spring

He waited in the desperate hope

He would no longer be alone

That she would join him

Out in the darkest dark

As dark drew on,

His heart grew faint

With dry mouth and quaking voice,

He softly called her name

She glided from the shadows

Where she had been,

Waiting and watching

For someone to call out

His throat constricted

How could he claim her?

She, the fairest. He, nothing.

He looking longingly, but . . .

She saw his hesitation

And with trembling hand

Reached out to stay him

And . . . she said his name

They stared at one another,

Not daring to believe . . .

He took her hand

And pressed it to his lips

Who was he that she should notice?

Who was she that he should pursue?

Yet, though trembling – in mighty fear

The two overcame their mutual cowardice

He said her name

She blushed rose pink

He smiled and . . .

So did she

I am going to take my poetry off. These are more btw God and I but I would be happy to share anything with anyone I know who asks me.

"You fill up my senses/like a night in the forest/like the mountains in springtime/like a walk in the rain/like a storm in the desert/like a sleepy blue ocean/You fill up my desert/like a sleepy blue ocean/you fill up my senses/come fill me up agian/come let me love you/let me give my life to you/let me drown in your laughter/let me die in your arms/let me lay down beside you/let me always be with you/come let me love you/come love me again"
--John Denver?

The Constantinopolitan Creed

(Creed of 150 Fathers)

We believe in one God, the Father All Governing, creator of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible;

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten from the Father before all time, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not created, of the same essence as the Father, through Whom all things came into being, Who for us men and because of our salvation came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary and became human. He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered and was buried, and rose on the third day, according to the Scriptures, and ascended to heaven, and sits on the right hand of the Father, and will come again with glory to judge the living and dead. His kingdom shall have no end.

And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and life-giver, Who proceeds from the Father, Who is worshiped and glorified together with the Father and Son, Who spoke through the prophets; and in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. We confess one baptism for the remission of sins. We look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.

Creeds!

http://www.quakerinfo.com/rdf.shtml
http://www.quakerinfo.com/barbados.shtml
http://www.quakerinfo.com/esstruth.shtml

The Big Head

In the draw a person test, a clinician is advised to interpret a large head as indicating an over concern with matters of intellectual functioning; one system even suggests that it means brain damage.
-Psychological Testing: Principles, Applications and Issues P. 419

For a Fair Desire

For A Fair Desire

--ZAO

Let me not exist for a fair desire sweet and fresh

Are my expectations of this inner strength

That yearns passionately

For the endowment of the Father

I sow in tears that later I shall reap in joy

Each drop that I sow will be a time of breaking [3x]

Come Holy Spirit empower Your creation

Through times of breaking the planting of tears as I am broken

Your presence grows stronger

I feel You with me upholding me through it all

Let me not exist for a fair desire sweet and fresh

Are my expectations of this inner strength

That yearns passionately

For the endowment of

Each drop that I sow is a time of breaking

A time of breaking

How Deep the Fathers Love for Us

How Deep the Father's Love for Us
--- Stuart Townend

How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure
That he should give his only son, to make a wretch his treasure
How great the pain of searing loss, the Father turned his face away
As wounds which mar the chosen one, bring many sons to glory


Behold the man upon a cross, my sin upon his shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held him there until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life; I know that it is finished


I will not boast in anything: no gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ; his death and resurrection
Why should I gain from his reward? I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart: his wounds have paid my ransom

Tears of the Saints

--Leeland
There are many prodigal sons
On our city streets they run
Searching for shelter
There are homes broken down
People’s hopes have fallen to the ground
From failures

This is an emergency!

There are tears from the saints
For the lost and unsaved
We’re crying for them come back home
We’re crying for them come back home
And all your children will stretch out their hands
And pick up the crippled man
Father, we will lead them home
Father, we will lead them home

There are schools full of hatred
Even churches have forsaken
Love and mercy
May we see this generation
In it’s state of desperation
For Your glory

This is an emergency!

Sinner, reach out your hands!
Children in Christ you stand!
Sinner, reach out your hands!
Children in Christ you stand!

And all Your children will stretch out their hands
And pick up the crippled man
Father, we will lead them home
Father, we will lead them home

A Prayer

The Imitation of Christ
--Thomas A Kempis

Grant me, Lord, to know all that
I should know, to love what I
should love, to esteem what most
pleases you, and to reject all that
is evil in your sight. Let me not
judge superficially by what I see,
nor be influenced by what I hear
from ignorant men, but with true
judgement to discern between
things spiritual and material,
and to seek your will and good
pleasure at all times and above
all else."

DarkAndLight

---Sarah Abbett
The world is full of dark today
The light draws ever dim
Yet you know what the wise say
'Tis always darkest before dawn'

The world is full of dark
The light grows precious
All that glitters is not gold
And all that glistens is not Light

My dearest friend, draw nearer me
And listen while we pray
To the wind that beats against the house
In the winter night outside

The night is cold
The Dark is deep
But we have each other
No force can sunder us, not even in this weather

The Light is precious
For the world is Dark
And moveth towards the Dark
Yet the Light liveth still

Do not ever give up
Do not ever give in
They say nothing gold ever lasts
I know that to be false

For you and I will last forever
In the light and grace of God
We'll dance on the streets of gold together
And remain there ever more

The world is Dark
The Light is precious
And the Dark grows darker yet
Be not afraid of the Dark

The Dark is frightening
The Dark is evil
The Dark is not for friends
The Dark shall not last

The Light is comforting
The Light is good
The Light has many friends
The Light shall last forever

This is how you shall know
Light from Dark my friend
Be ye not afraid
For the Dark shall one day end

7. In Times Gone Past--ZAO

I see it in your eyes,
the tearing in your heart,
as I awaken I learn first, first of dying,
and lying inside the ground forgotten,
I learn of love, I learn of terror,

I feel the curse inside my body,
my God, my God,
why have you forsaken me and put this curse inside my body,
we live within a curse and within the divine,
we're born and raised to work,
and then grow old and die (in ourgolden time),
strange, cut and burnt then thrown into the tide (I have lived and died),

lie beneath the ground,
ascend into the sky,
I feel the earth spinning slow,
and winding down with the sun,
I feel the curse inside my body,
running through my veins into my mind

St. Francis of Assisi

"Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled, as to console;
Not so much to be understood as
to understand;
Not so much to be loved
As to love;
For it is in giving that we recieve;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
It is in dying that we awaken to eternal life."

--Francis of Assisi

Now, my tongue, the mystery telling

Now, my tongue, the mystery telling--Thomas Aquinas (13th century)

Now, my tongue, the mystery telling
of the glorious Body sing,
and the Blood, all price excelling,
which the gentiles' Lord and King,
in a Virgin's womb once dwelling,
shed for this world's ransoming.

Given for us, and condescending,
to be born for us below,
he, with men in converse blending,
dwelt the seed of truth to sow,
till he closed with wondrous ending
his most patient life of woe.

That last night, at supper lying,
'mid the twelve, his chosen band,
Jesus, with the law complying,
keeps the feast its rites demand;
then, more precious food supplying,
gives himself with his own hand.

Word-made-flesh true bread he maketh
by his word his Flesh to be;
wine his Blood; which whoso taketh
must from carnal thoughts be free;
faith alone, though sight forsaketh,
shows true hearts the mystery.

Therefore we, before him bending,
this great Sacrament revere;
types and shadows have their ending,
for the newer rite is here;
faith, our outward sense befriending,
makes our inward vision clear.

Glory let us give, and blessing
to the Father, and the Son,
honor, might and praise addressing,
while eternal ages run;
ever too his love confessing,
who from both with both is one.

The Room

This is from chapter 14 of C.S. Lewis' That Hideous Strength. I'll add the rest later.

A man of trained sensibility would have seen at once that the room was ill-proportioned, not grotesquely so, but sufficiently to produce dislike. It was so high and too narrow. Mariok felt the effect without analysing the cause and the effect grew on him as time passed. Sitting staring about him he next noticed the door- and thought at first that he was the victim of some optical illusion. It took him qute a long time to prove to himself that he was not. The point of the arch was not in the centre: the whole thing was lop-sided. Once again, the error was not gross. The thing was near enough to the true to decieve you for a moment and to go on teasing the mind even after the deception had been unmasked. Involuntarily one kept shifting the head to find positions from which it would look right after all. He turned round and sat with his back to it...one mustn't let it become an obsession.

Then he noticed the spots on the ceiling. They were not mere specks of dirt or discoloration. They were deliberately painted on: little round black spots placed at irregular intervals on the pale mustard-coloured surface. There were not a great many of them: perhaps thirty... or was it a hundred? He determined that he would not fall into the trap of trying to count them. They would be hard to count, they were so irregularly placed. Or weren't they? Now that his eyes were growing used to them (and one couldn't help noticing that there were five in that little group to the right), their arrangement seemed to hover on the verge of regularity. They suggested some kind of pattern. Their peculiar ugliness consisted in the very fact that they kept on suggesting it and then frustrating the expectation thus aroused. Suddenly he realised that this was another trap. He fixed his eyes on the table.

There were spots on the table too: white ones. Shiny white spots, not quite round. And arranged, apparently, to correspond to the spots on the ceiling. Or were they? No, of course not...ah, now he had it! The pattern (if you could call it pattern) on the table was an exact reversal of that on the ceiling. But with certain exceptions. He found he was glancing repidly from one to the other, trying to puzzle it out. For the third time he checked himself. He got up and began to walk about. He had a look at the pictures.

Some of them belonged to a school of art with which he was already familiar. There was a portrait of a young women who held her mouth wide open to reveal the fact that the inside of it was thickly overgrown with hair. It was very skilfully painted in the photographic manner so that you could almost feel that hair; indeed you could not avoid feeling it however hard you tried. There was a giant mantis playing a fiddle while being eaten by another mantis, and a man with corkscrews instead of arms bathing in a flat, sadly coloured sea beneath a summer sunset. But most of the pictures were not of this kind. At first, most of them seemed rather ordinary, though Mark was a little surprised at the predominance of scriptural themes. It was only at the second or third glance that one discovered certain unaccountable details- something odd about the positions of the figures' feet or the arrangement of their fingers or the grouping. And who was the person standing between the Christ and the Lazarus? And why were there so many beetles under the table in the Last Supper? What was the curious trick of lighting that made each picture look like something seen in delirium? When once these questions had been raised the apparent ordinariness of the pictures became their supreme menace- like the ominous surface innocence at the beginning of certain dreams. Every fold of drapery, every piece of architecture, had a meaning one could not grasp but which withered the mind. Compared with these the other, surrealistic, pictures were mere foolery. Long ago Mark had read somewhere of "Things of that exreme evil which seem innocent to the unintitiate," and had wondered what sort of things they might be. Now he felt he knew.

He turned his back on the pictures and sat down. He understood the whole business now. Frost was not trying to make him insane; at least not in the sense Mark had hitherto given to the word "insanity." Frost had meant what he said. To sit in the room was the first step towards what Frost called objectivity--the process whereby all specifically human reactions were killed in a man so that he might become fit for the fastidious society of the Macrobes. Higher degrees in the ascetism of anti-Nature would doubtless follow: the eating of abominable food, the dabbling in dirt and blood, the ritual performances of calculated obscenities. They were, in a sense, playing quite fair with him-offering him the very same initiation through which they themselves had passed and which had divided them from humanity, distending and dissipating Whither into a shapeless ruin while it condensed and sharpened Frost into the hard, bright, little needle that he now was.

But after an hour or so this long, high coffin of a room began to produce on Mark an effect which his instructor had probably not anticipated. There was no return of the attack which he had suffered last night in the cell. Whether because he had already survived that attack, or because the imminence of death had drawn the tooth of his lifelong desire for the esoteric, or because he had (in a fashion) called very urgently for help, the built and painted perversity of this room had the effect of making him aware, as he had never been aware before, of this room's opposite. As the desert first teaches men to love water, or as absence first reveals affection, there rose up against this background of the sour and the crooked some kind of vision of the sweet and the straight. Something else- something he vaguely called the "Normal"-- apparently existed.

THOSE Christians

THOSE CHRISTIANS

"For Christians are not differentiated from other people by country, language or customs; you see, they do not live in cities of their own, or speak some strange dialect, or have some peculiar lifestyle.

This teaching of theirs has not been contrived by the invention and speculation of inquisitive men; nor are they propagating mere human teaching as some people do. They live in both Greek and foreign cities, wherever chance has put them. They follow local customs in clothing,food and other aspects of life. But at the same time, they demonstrate to us the wonderful and certainly unusual form of their own citezenship.

They live in their own native lands, but as aliens; as citizens, they share all things with others; but like aliens, suffer all things. Every foreign country is to them as their native country, and every native land as a foreign country.

They marry and have children just like everyone else; but they do not kill unwanted babies. They offer a shared table, but not a shared bed. They are at present 'in the flesh' but they do not live 'according to the flesh'. They are passing their days on earth, but are citizens of heaven. They obey the appointed laws, and go beyond the laws in their own lives.

They love every one, but are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death and gain life. They are poor and yet make many rich. They are short of everything and yet have plenty of all things. They are dishonored and yet gain glory through dishonour.

Their names are blackened and yet they are cleared. They are mocked and bless in return. They are treated outrageously and behave respectfully to others. When they do good, they are punished as evildoers; when punished, they rejoice as if being given new life. They are attacked by Jews as aliens, and are persecuted by Greeks; yet those who hate them cannot give any reason for their hostility.

To put it simply- the soul is to the body as Christians are to the world. The soul is spread through all parts of the body and Christians through all the cities of the world. The soul is in the body but is not of the body; Christians are in the world but not of the world."

---Anonymous Letter to Diognetus, (2nd century?)

The state of man

Here was a stately building; man carved like a fair palace, but now lying in ashes: let us stand and look on the ruins, and drop a tear...Happy wast thou, O man! who was like unto thee? no pain nor sickness could affect thee, no death could approach thee, no sigh was heard from thee, till these bitter fruits were plucked from the forbidden tree. Heaven shone upon thee, and earth smiled...But how low is he now laid, who was created for dominion, and made lord of the world! 'The crown is fallen from our head: woe unto us that we have sinned'...Alas! how are we fallen! how are we plunged into a gulf of misery!...Let us then lie down in the dust...
---By Thomas Boston (1676-1732)

Holy Sonnet 10

Holy Sonnet 10
--John Donne

DEATH BE NOT PROUD, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me;
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.

Psalm46

Psalm 46
For the director of music. Of the Sons of Korah. According to Alamoth. A song.
1 God is our refuge and strength,an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. Selah
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5 God is within her, she will not fall;God will help her at break of day.
6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
7 The LORD Almighty is with us;the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah
8 Come and see the works of the LORD,the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;he breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he burns the shields with fire.
10 "Be still, and know that I am God;I will be exalted among the nations,I will be exalted in the earth."
11 The LORD Almighty is with us;the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And the Word became flesh...

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice, rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer
Thy people with Thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadow put to flight
Rejoice, rejoice Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel

O come, Thou rod of Jesse, free Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From the depths of hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice, rejoice Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel

You Call Me Lovely

This one is by my friend Jessica McGarity © 2007

You call me lovely
You fill my world with sunshine
You make me free
You give me reason to love
And joy to keep on living

Why?
With all this ugliness inside of me
When I am in selfish pursuit
When it seems that I try my best to tie myself in knots
When I want nothing to do with anyone
And all I want is to give up

You still
call me lovely

And I shall never understand
How You love me

Unholy Sonnet 14

Unholy Sonnet 14 --Mark Jarman

After the praying, after the hymn-singing,
After the sermon's then chant commentary
On the world's ills, which make ours secondary,
After communion, after the hand-wringing,
And after peace descends upon us, bringing
our eyes up to regard sanctuary
And how the light swords through it, and how, scary
In their sheer numbers, motes of dust ride, clinging-
There is, as doctors say about some pain,
Discomfort knowing that despite your prayers,
Your listening and rejoicing, your small part In this communal stab at coming clean,
There is one stubborn remnant of your cares
In tact. There is still murder in your heart.

Who Am I?

Who Am I? --Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell's confinementcalmly,
cheerfully, firmly,
like a squire from his country house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command

Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equably, smiling, proudly,like one accustomd to win.


Am I then really that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,
yearning for colors, for flowers, for voices of birdsthirsting for words of kindness, for neiborliness,tossing in expectationof great evets,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptible woebegone
weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army
fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am THINE!

The War That Plagues The Lands

SLECHTVALK LYRICS

The War That Plagues The Lands (2002)

We are called upon to go to war
Our banners raised high, we march on
Our steel glinting in the setting sun
death can't stop us from achieving victory

When we finished to set up our encampment
I was appointed to be the first to guard
As my men closed their eyes to sleep
I warmed myself at a small fire

Then a deep sleep - overwhelmed me
He tried to fight it, but he failed
And then - our enemies approached
But no one noticed them, for all were asleep
Silently they slit their throats, leaving one alive;
their captain was spared for another day

Suddenly I awaken from my sleep
I call for my men for the morning has come
But when I look around me I see them
All slaughtered but I am still alive

I wander between the corpses of my men
Abhorred by this carnage I ask myself
What has happened to my men?

Slowly I return to where the castle is
of the king, whom I must tell
of my failure, the death of his men
I fear the judgement that awaits me

My king, hear my plea as I kneel before thee
In the task that was given me, I have failed thee
In the last hour of my watch I have fallen asleep

When Darkness came I did not protect them,

When they were struck with panic
I did not admonish them
And when death came I was too late to save them

Do not hold me accountable for their deaths
Do not forsake me in my darkest
For darkness comes for me, rebellion strides with me
And I feel death following me

"Open your eyes and then you will see,
that their deaths were merely an illusion
you must know of what I speakand the wrongs you have done
already have been forgiven
although it saddens me to see you like this"

Although my King has shown me mercy
how come I can't forgive myself?
For the crime I have committed,
I should have been punished by death

Now I wander in the forest to find my peace
Fighting the haunting memories of the past
Trying to realise the greatness of the forgiveness bestowed
On my heart, which is darkened with sorrow

At last its meaning seems to grasp me
With newfound strength I carry on
Unaware of the danger that lurks from behind the trees
And the certain death that seems to await me

From behind the trees,two arrows were sent
on an intercept course
To weaken the noble warrior for the battle that lies ahead

Dark souls left the shadows to surround me
With eyes full of hate they called to me
Feeling reluctant to leave me without a fight
As if the arrows were not deadly enough

The slow poison of the arrows
Is taking me into death's embrace

I feel a shiver through my stomach
As an axe found its way through the flesh

As I drop on my knees I see my attackers run away
No doubt on another mission of chaos and mayhem

The dragon will only lead them into the black abyss
But I fear they do not know their own destiny

Soon I will die alone, left behind in this cold forest
Yet I am not afraid of death for I know what lies beyond

Silence! The screams that haunted me have returned
Crawling. I feel their claws scratching my brain
Destiny. Final Death awaits
Coming. I see Grim Reaper's face


A freezing wind cuts through my wounds
like sharp razors,
The pain it inflicts is making me go insane

Even now moments before my death,
evil tries to lead me astray
Making me false promises in the hope
I fall for his ways

I feel an infection coming in through my wounds;
The end has begun for me
There is little hope for me to survive my great demise
Again I hear the voice, which calls me his son
But then the screams that haunted me returned again

"It is time, to accept what you are,
nothing more than a sinful creature
who is afraid of the night
Salvation of death, it's just a lie you believe in,
to make it easier to face the unknown."

Now in the cold-blooded snow I lie trembling
with fear of my death

Death approaches me with a scythe in his hand

Waiting for the moment to harvest his crop
I sent my falcon away to get some help
But I already knew it would come too late

Things are seldom what they seem,
The end is in fact just a beginning
For my spirit has become immortal
Through the blood of he who was slain before me

The fire in my eyes is extinguished slowly,
my life is at an end, my death is at handI have lost all feeling, my wounds stopped bleeding,
my flesh is frozen by the wind,
Memories from times long ago are passing by,
my father, my liege I think I must cry
For my heart is faltering, my spirit is leaving;
with my dying breath I make my last call
------------------------------------------

Cold sharp hail is blown into my face by a stormy wind
I take shelter in a small wooden church near the black woods
A choir sings some songs of praise and worship for their lord
For a little while it makes me forget the sorrow I am in

"In distress we call to thee, we await thy return
for the forces of evil are closing in upon us,
but with thy help we can live beyond our lives' end,
oh Lord accept our gratitude for thy sacrifice"

I hear a call in the distance, it startles me
For it seems like the call of a dying man, I ascend my horse

As we leave our shelter to challenge the raging storm
I hear the shrieks of a falcon from within the fog ahead of us

Amazed to hear a falcon's shriek in this time of year
I ride towards the branch on which the falcon sits

I feel a cold shiver as I enter the forest in search of this man
With the falcon as my guide, and a bastard sword at my side
A strange feeling that makes me a bit sick tells me I am near
The source of the horrible scream, which I heard a short while ago

The slain body of a warrior is what I find here
It looks a bit familiar but I cannot seem to grasp it

Death takes even the best of us
Away from the world of the living
I wonder what the cause was
For the death of this man

"Dost thou not see the war that plagues the land
our enemies gather before our beloved city"

His face carries a strange expression
He seems to have been content
I wonder if there's more to it
Is there a truth in the books of old?

This man, once a warrior of great stature
I cannot leave him behind
So I carefully lay him on the back of my horse

And then I notice the royal emblem

With this knowledge I return, to the small wooden church
So he might be given, the proper burial he deserves

Then my senses pick up the stench of burning flesh
I see a yellow glare ahead
Screams that slowly fade away
A nightmare has unfolded itself

This horror can't be a coincidence

And thus it burns, the church where
I sheltered for the hail, the doors seem locked
The saints, whose songs soothed me,
were killed by the blazing fire

When the fire finally extinguished in the morning sun
I gathered the remnants from the choir, who were slain

This cowardly slaughter I fail to grasp it all
They could not even defend themselves
What beasts were they, who did this to these saints
The need for them to die, I wonder why

"Dost thou not see the war that plagues the land
The dragon's campaign to conquer this world"

Seven bodies, seven graves I digged for them
"For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return"
Under the setting sun I buried the last one
"My children now come to me"

In these times of Darkness,
where the Dragon attempts to overthrow the kingdom of light,
in secret the final defeat of the dragon is being prepared

The winter sun shines upon the path that lies before me
It leads into the forests of the royal domains

The smouldering ruins of the church, that has burned down
I leave behind as I continue on my journey

Screams that cut through my bones I hear,
coming from the woods nearby
Fear makes my strength disappear;
my feet are frozen to the ground

Hear the forest fall silent once the screams faded away
I wonder what has happened over there

Slowly I overcome my fear and once again I let myself be led
By my curiosity into the forest wondering what I'll find this time

"The dark shadows, the sons of the dragon
who had killed the saints,

were brutally slaughtered by the wild beasts
that inhabit the forests
Their corpses torn by claws and fangs,
a death so horrid as the one they
brought to the king's men two nights before"

A strange feeling of justice enters my mind
As I see the remnants of the dragon's children

The war of the ancients is at its peak

It rages on in all lands, there is no escape from it
A choice must be made for the ones that wander about

Time passes quickly; soon the war will come to its end
The window of opportunity is getting slim
and soon it might be too late

What have we done, us children of the ancient dragon
Whose lives ended by the scythe of death

Where are our earned virtue, the endless feasts and women?
We now only meet Darkness in these mists
Why have we fallen for the lies of the dragon
And condemned our souls into this void

Endless torture of our souls
Eternal despair has commenced

Our destiny, the flames around us lit it all
In the distance we once heard faint songs of praise
Coming from the King's court, where they knew no sorrow
But no one could deny the eternal screams of horror

What have we done, us children of the ancient dragon
Misled by the many lies of the beast
Now we dwell, where we did not want to be
Insanity, despair, horror ever ongoing

In Paradisum deducant te Angeli;
in tuo adventu suscipiant te Martyres,
et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem
Chorus Angelorum te suscipiat,
et cum Lazaro quondam paupere,
aeternam habeas requiem