Our Lord’s final stage of suffering began and His social freedom ended with a kiss of betrayal from the lips of one who followed Him for years calling Him “Master.”
Our journey of learning has its bitter moments, none more bitter than the times of subjection to duplicity, hypocrisy and betrayal.
Such a pleasant face!
What a wonderful disposition!
What do you want from me?
Or is it just that you have nothing to lose?
How easy it is to be pleasant
And helpful and polite;
How easy it is to show one self noble
And virtuous, even saintly
When there is something to be gained,
And the one with whom you are friendly has it.
Here, take what it is you are after.
I am so happy to give it to such
A pleasant fellow as you…
As long as you’ll promise me
To keep your end of the bargain.
I expect you’ll be as congenial as you are now,
When once you have what you seek from me.
You tell me you are honest;
You tell me you are reasonable and deserving
And just and upstanding and unselfish.
Fair enough! Here it is!
I could not have given it to a better man.
But sir, what about your promise?
What promise!? A misunderstanding?!
I was mistaken? But you said..!
I’m trying to get blood out of a stone you say?
Unreasonable?! But it’s broken!
You guaranteed it worked!
“As is” you say? “Buyer beware” you say?
Why is your face clouded?
Why are you suddenly so harsh and haughty?
Where are the meekness, the gentleness,
The politeness, the smiles?
Where are the tears and the impassioned pleas?
Why do you stomp where once you stepped softly?
You asked for sympathy and I gave.
You asked for generosity for your sake;
I gave that too.
Now I ask you for the same
And my request falls on a different man!
Are you the one with whom I dealt?
My, how you have changed!
You have what you want!
And I am again without.
So is the lot of the one who trusts in man.
Beware of those who want what you have;
Beware of yourself when you want
What others have!
Lethbridge, Oct. 11, 1984
[worthy of those addressed] It has occurred to me that if there ever was a lie, if there ever was anything so unscientifically accurate, if there was anything so preposterous, if there was anything so utterly stupid and incredibly farcical, if there was anything that made supposedly educated and intelligent men look like babbling idiots and pea-brained morons, it is the theory (or even more so, theories, each proving the other wrong!) of evolution. Taught as fact, contradicting truth, and while in some cases and ways trying to accommodate God somewhere in their schemes, these men have denied Him and rather than coming from monkeys, have made monkeys of themselves. Yet they will not believe me when I tell them creation is regressing. Madness, are you an accident? In all your incredibility, can it be possible That you came from a mere explosion of gases? Madness, you have so many forms! One form is to believe that so many forms Have been an accident. Bang! And there you began. And you grew and grew and grew And grew and flourished And spread! Madness, could as much as you Come from so little? How can a genius as great and powerful as you, Reigning as you do over the hearts of the wise, Come from a mere bang? The world raves in you; You have evolved much farther than they. Those you call accidents are your subjects; You make monkeys out of them. Leave me out of it. More than that, I’ll speak to them… Without your help or your hindrance. &...
Little did I know when the Lord told me He would show me His people through His eyes that I was one of those people, that I would be shown not only by seeing as an observer but as partaker as well. And He too is a partaker of the sufferings of His people. “I am hurting, I am hurting!” He said to me. I know too well the pain, the death and hell we must all face, the iniquity we must be shown in ourselves and be purged of by fires. I have identified and do identify with His people. I just did not think, though I surely believed I was His, that I was, by nature, a partaker of all the sins and vanities of His people and therefore a partaker of the fruits of them as well. When the Lord shows one something, He shows him not by mere observation but subjection. Only then do we know and understand and relate. One day while praying quite dignified, I was forced to be relieved, And in an old cabin the Lord signified what in me He had conceived. I will show you My people by My eyes, their suffering and sorrow you’ll see; They live in weeping and gnashing and cries but proclaim that they are free. In their stoves burns no fire to give them heat, the wind blows through the walls; From broken glasses and plates they eat, and off its hinges the front door falls. Their power is void while idols abound; vain professions are on their tongue; No floor ‘neath their feet covers the ground, their possessions are no more than dung. These are His people the Lord lets me see,...
While servants of the prince of darkness present themselves as angels of love and goodness, they grant their victims in part those things the flesh desires to have without cost of life. Souls are thus ensnared in their own selfishness. "I gave my child all it wanted. I spared nothing. What more could I have done?" laments the parent whose child is now on drugs or in prison or dead. How ironic that the sure path to destruction is receiving at request all that one could ask for! How ironic that our way to peace and fulfillment is in denial, hardship and deprivation until the final day! The epitome of selfishness: "I want," it declares; "I want it all," it demands; "I want it all now," it screams. It loves to be pampered and cuddled. It has no notion of cost to another, No care for one's needs or desires Other than its own. When not obliged, Its world stands still, Its heart bound in the thing it wants. A thousand things a day it wants. "My way!" it cries, Not for reason's sake nor truth, Not for right nor even good, But for self, and when denied, It pouts; Sullen and resentful, It eats itself And those around Unless it gets its way. The child of evil is ruled By its passions And its whims, By its ignorance And its needs so perceived. At every turn it cries Unless it gets its way; It clings to itself to live, Held in the grip of death. But deliverance comes As an enemy, In the form of a rod, The rod of chastening, of discipline, ...