You still don’t get it??

“Thus Heaven I’ve forfeited,
I know it full well…
My soul, once true to God, is chosen for Hell.”

Karl Marx, The Pale Maiden

I received this latest email from The Catholic Company yesterday regarding an interesting
new read about Karl Marx…Can a Catholic Be a Socialist?

My disclaimer is that I have not read the book, but I did find the promo most interesting,
as well as distressingly telling.
Or perhaps that is actually more foreboding than anything else.

Plus I can readily answer that question…NO!!! No, a Catholic, nay any Christian, cannot be
both a practicing believer as well as a Socialist…plain and simple.

A Christian cannot serve two masters and Marx and his love of isms consists of a myriad of
evil-minded masters.

Marx seems to be all the rage these days as everyone seems to be flirting with all
things “ism”—
Be it Communism, Socialism, or even fascism.

Ism is as ism does…

So this is not necessarily a plug for a new book…because I’ve not read the book…
but it is a plug against all things Marxist…

Marxism is and will always be anti-Christian.
It is in actuality anti-human being
It is totally anti independent thinker.

Plain and simple–it is anti-everything you hold dear.

If you think otherwise, you are lying to yourself.

Marx is not pro-life.
He is not pro-democracy.
He is not pro independent business.
He is not pro independent voter.

Everyone should be aware of the immense
evil produced by Karl Marx when he wrote his
devilish Communist Manifesto two centuries ago.

No other theory in all of history has led
to the death of so many innocent people.

Claiming the lives of over a hundred million people
in the 20th century alone, it comes as no surprise that
the dark origin of Communism lies in Hell itself.

And yet—some people are defending Marx today.

They believe that his system of government
has never been implemented correctly.
They say he was a benevolent hero who dreamed
of equality, peace, and happiness.

The truth is far more sinister.

The alcoholic, violent, drug-addicted Karl Marx
was absolutely fascinated with the devil and
penned some downright devilish things.

Well before he was writing
about the hell of communism,
he was writing about Hell.

Marx’s terrible philosophy is making a
comeback not only on college campuses
and talk shows, but even among Catholics
who are well-meaning—and confused.

And communism isn’t the only concern.

Some people think that socialism could
be the answer to greed and other ills.

They argue that it’s the best way to obey
Christ’s command to help the poor.

“Let’s give socialism a fresh chance,” they say.
“A democratic socialism this time, friendly to
religion and ordered to the common good as
the Church says the economy should be.”

They forget that socialism
is not friendly to religion.

In Can a Catholic Be a Socialist?
Trent Horn and Catherine R. Pakaluk
refute the belief in “Catholic Socialism.”

Drawing on Catholic social teaching,
Scripture, history, and basic economic
reality, they show us why Catholicism (as I will add all of Christianity)
and socialism are utterly incompatible.

It’s a fascinating read.

http://enews.catholiccompany.com/q/Hu0WrJ_aRW-f-l3bmuQtNBRPkAHN45S-gR6maxHFnhKHSVBQuFunO3dz8

photobomb

Photobomb:
noun: photobomb;
plural noun: photobombs
a photograph that has been spoiled by the unexpected appearance of an unintended subject
in the camera’s field of view as the picture was taken.


(a piping plover inturrupted by a wandering gull / Julie Cook / 2020)

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life,
what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body,
what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,
and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?
And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?
And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field,
how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon
in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven,
will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’
or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’
For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father
knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his
righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow,
for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.
Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Matthew 6:25-34

red sky at night, sailor’s delight…lies…

Jesus said, “When in evening, ye say,
it will be fair weather: For the sky is red.
And in the morning, it will be foul weather today;
for the sky is red and lowering.”
Matthew 16:2-3,


(the night before the coming storm / Rosemary Beach,FL / Julie Cook / 2020)

Well, I had said that I was off to look for America, but rather I found a hurricane.
Sigh.

More about all of that later…
Just know, when they say a hurricane is coming…DO NOT head to the beach—
reservations or not!!!

“Like a red morn that ever yet betokened,
Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds,
woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.”

Shakespeare

if going home was an option

“Failure is an option, fear is not.”
James Cameron


(odd things find themselves caught in a hurricane chruning an angry sea / Julie Cook / 2020)

Well, we would have attempted to venture home this morning after a long sleepless night,
but…we would have been following and driving directly back into Sally as
she ventured inland and northward.

The wind and rain have been constant all-day as are the flooding and tornados—
We just weren’t too keen on driving in such.

So maybe tomorrow will be a better day at the beach.


(Sally’s leftover mess / Rosemary Beach / Julie Cook / 20202)

So we do not lose heart.
Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.
For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory
beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things
that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient,
but the things that are unseen are eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

in the midst of the storm

“Joyful friends, mostly loyal, they hadn’t abandoned their protector before the gathering storm;
and despite the threatening sky, despite the shuddering earth, they remained,
smiling, considerate, and as devoted to misfortune as they had been to prosperity.”

Alexandre Dumas

(Sally the hurricane / Rosemary Beach, FL / Julie Cook / 2020)

“The more the wind rages the more you feel that the anchor holds you.”
“It is often so with us; when the winds are out and the storms are raging there is plenty of fear,
but there is no danger. We may be much tossed, but we are quite safe,
for we have an anchor of the soul both sure and stedfast, which will not start.
One blessed thing is that our hope has such a grip of us that we know it.
In a vessel you feel the pull of the anchor,
and the more the wind rages the more you feel that the anchor holds you.
Like the boy with his kite: the kite is up in the clouds, where he cannot see it,
but he knows it is there, for he feels it pull;
so our good hope has gone up to heaven, and it is pulling and drawing us towards itself”

(MTP 22:285-86).
Charles Spurgeon

it isn’t easy, nor is it ever fair…

“The demand for equality has two sources; one of them is among the noblest,
the other is the basest, of human emotions. The noble source is the desire for fair play.
But the other source is the hatred of superiority.
At the present moment it would be very unrealistic to overlook the importance of the latter.”

C.S. Lewis


(a roped off area where a sea turtle has laid her eggs / Rosemary Beach / Julie Cook / 2020)

Life is hard and it is certainly not always ever fair…

And yet we humans seem to be trying oh so hard to keep things as equitable, even, fair,
as well as level, as far as our conscious demands…

That is until we are stymied…

Stymied not so much by our fellow man or menacing mob, but rather stymied by
the likes of someone much more powerful…that being Mother Nature.

We can scream at one another about fairness, justice, injustice, and unfairness all we want.
We can make other men kneel at our sword and cower to our words and demands.
We can threaten, harass, harangue, and even inflict harm all in the name of making
others bend to our will for a purported notion of justice or fairness.

Yet in the end, it really isn’t any of us who will have the final say.

We had made plans long ago to come down to the Gulf this week…
our plans were long before a string of storms began advancing.
But such is any planned trip to a beach during this time of year.

The Gulf’s latest intruder is named Sally.

Unfortunately, I left my transfer cable for my camera at home so all of my
pictures from my camera will have to wait to be uploaded onto my computer when I get home…
I did, however, manage to get a few pictures using my phone.

This is the time of year when the sea turtles come to shore in order to lay their eggs.

There are beach volunteers who will mark and rope off the areas where a turtle nest
is situated.
Sea turtles, their nests, eggs, as well as hatchlings, are all protected.

Walking the shoreline yesterday evening, only hours before the storm would advance
as it has today causing massive erosion, we saw several roped-off nesting sites.
Some of the sites were far enough away from the battering surf but there was one
directly in the surf.

Poor turtle, I thought, her hard efforts, her nest, her offspring,
will most likely be in vain.

Had the weather been calm, the nesting site would probably have faired well but
I knew given the storm, there would be no site remaining the following day.

This was what we found this morning—a single staub jutting out of the surf
where yesterday there were four well marked and roped staubs.

And as we walked later in the day, as the gulls and plovers roamed what sand
was not underwater, we found a lone egg.
Cracked and dented.

(a lone turtle egg / Julie Cook / 2020)

And so as I ponder Mother Nature…her fickled ways with both life and death–
my prayers are with our neighbors to the West…those who are living in the midst of
hell on earth as wildfires ravage Oregon, Washington, and California—
just as I think and pray for yet another Gulf area that will be hit by yet another hurricane.

We may think we can bend man, or woman, to make him or her do as we please…
but in the end, it will be Mother Nature,
her and her alone, who will always have the final decisive say.

And yet…in actuality,
it just might be what we do in the wake of her decisions that will make the more
lasting difference on humanity…be that for good or be that for bad.

She plays her hand and then we must respond.

Maybe she just wants to divert our attention from ourselves for just a brief respite.

By my great power and outstretched arm I made the earth, mankind,
and the animals that are on the face of the earth, and I give it to whomever I see fit.

Jeremiah 27:5

going, going, gone….looking

Job was astonished at seeing Almighty God so intent on doing good to us
that He seems to have nothing more at heart than to love us and to induce
us to love Him in return.

Saint Alphonsus Maria de’ Liguori


(they came, they ate, they’re gone, it’s gone…I’m gone / Julie Cook / 2020)

Well from our photograph you can see that the caterpillars have had their fill.
They ate all that was in sight and now, they are out of sight.

I feel that I want to be the same for a bit, or at least for a few days…
as in out of sight.

Our friend IB, also known as the Princess keeper of the 9th circuit of hell…
someone has to live out there and try to hold those folks’ feet to the fire…
offered a wonderful post the other day…it was a bit of an eye-opener or perhaps
just a good ol kick in the pants sort of reminder.

We are inundated with both the negative and bad are we not?
EVERYTHING these days is bad…matters not which side of whatever fence you’re sitting on…
We read it,
we see it,
we hear it,
we watch it…

Conservative vs liberal
Republican vs Democrat
Anarchist vs law-abiding
Pro police vs anti-police
Black lives vs All lives
Trump vs Biden
Christain vs atheist
Abortionist vs Right to lifer
Mask wearer vs mask hater
Football vs no football

On and on it goes…
So much so that I am weary.

IB offered what seems to be a novel notion—-
perhaps we ought to be out looking for that which is good, which is heroic—
that which is positive rather than focusing on the negative and the bad..

And I think I’ll give it a go…
I’ll get back with what I find…

But for now…enjoy IB’s post and may you too go in search of all that remains…
good…

When Good Men do Something:

https://insanitybytes2.wordpress.com/2020/09/12/when-good-men-do-something/

In the meantime…I’m going to look for what I once knew about America…
there is still a whole lot of good going on…

ahh, the real definition of “justice”

“Justice is not something God has.
Justice is something that God is.”

A.W. Tozer

“When we attend to the needs of those in want,
we give them what is theirs, not ours.
More than performing works of mercy,
we are paying a debt of justice.”

Pope Saint Gregory the Great

when did respect die???

“Above all, don’t lie to yourself.
The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he
cannot distinguish the truth within him,
or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others.
And having no respect he ceases to love.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

“It may be important to great thinkers to examine the world,
to explain and despise it.
But I think it is only important to love the world, not to despise it,
not for us to hate each other, but to be able to regard the world and ourselves
and all beings with love, admiration and respect.”

Hermann Hesse

“He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!”

Edwin Markham

This quote by Edwin Markham…it was one of my favorite quotes… or better yet,
it actually became a sort of life rule that I kept close to my heart when I was in high school…
way back in the mid 70’s when I first found it.

It is a quote by Edwin Markham (April 23, 1852 – March 7, 1940)
He was a poet, as well as an American poet laureate, hailing from Oregan.
He was a prolific writer with most of his work coming from the years between 1923-1931.

This quote came racing back to my thoughts yesterday after a little incident I witnessed
at my local grocery store.

Let’s think of where I live.

I live in what is considered to be a small town.
We are about an hour west of Atlanta, give or take the traffic.
Yet we are a college town.
And we are what some might consider to be a sleeper community of Atlanta.
Meaning, folks drive back and forth to the big city in order to work.

We have big businesses but we still have a cattle sale barn that operates every Monday.
It’s where the local farmers bring their animals each week to show and sell…
So yes, we have pastures, cows, goats, sheep, bulls and yet we also have
global industry, a major hospital, a Division II college, and two nationally
recognized school systems…

Our town is a good town.
A small town with rural charm along with a comfortable modern feel.

So yesterday afternoon, I ran to the grocery store, our local Publix.
As I made my way to the door, pulling my mask over my face, I saw an older woman,
in her 80’s pushing her cart out of the store.
She was sporting a Trump 2020 t-shirt along with a black Trump 2020 face mask…
smartly accenting her jean skirt and sneakers.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye an elderly gentleman approaching us pushing another
grocery cart…he was bent over with age and I surmised he was her husband.

She told me she wanted to tell me something.

As she was an older woman and I have a deep respect for older folks,
I knew I needed to pay attention to what she wanted to tell me.

I don’t care what race, creed, or religion an older person might be,
they will always have my respect.
That’s how I was raised.

I might be almost 61 myself but I will always respect those who are older than I am.

No matter who they may be or where they may come from…be they humble
beings or more well do to…our elderly population are our treasures.
They have lived through so much, be it good or bad, and they have so much to
teach each one of us.

So when one of that generation tells me they have something to tell me,
I’m all ears.

This very southern gentile woman begins to tell me that a young man…
she told me his race, but to be honest I couldn’t make out exactly what she said
given the muffled voice coming from under her mask,
I could have easily assumed she was referring to a black male, but I’m just sticking with
young male…

This young male saw her shirt and mask and told her to her face that she was a
“fucking racist.”

Suddenly I felt a sick feeling hitting my stomach like a brick.

That could have once been my grandmother.
For some punk to call my own grandmother a “fucking” anything would have
sent me reeling.
For all I know, my grandmother probably never had heard of such a word!
She was that much a southern lady…much like this woman

By this time, her hunched-over husband chimed in telling me that had he heard
this young man say that to his wife, he would have hit him but he was
not nearby as he was just trying to get a cart to help him walk.

Here was a feeble elderly man feeling that his wife has been terribly insulted
and he wasn’t there to defend her—and that tore my heart to pieces.

I apologized to this couple that such should have happened to them on this humid September
Thursday afternoon at their local grocery store in small-town USA.

I felt so hurt.
So much so that tears came to my eyes.

I could have just as easily seen an elderly black man or woman wearing a BLM shirt
at the store and I would never have ever considered saying a word.
I might have disagreed, but I would respect their choice, their right,
to wear such because that is indeed their, our, right as Americans.
I don’t have to agree, but I do have to have respect.

Why?

Because that is how I was raised.

And so that one little word, that one little issue, is, in a nutshell,
the answer to all of this idiocy taking place across this Nation of ours…
respect has died.

May she rest in peace.
And may God have mercy.

So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them,
for this is the Law and the Prophets.

Matthew 7:12

thin black line, 6th Ave Heartache

Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139:23-24

An odd thing happened two nights ago.

Now you need to remember that I was taken off my HRT (hormone replacement therapy)
about 7 weeks ago.
Hormones, I’d been on nearly 30 years.

Sleep has never been great, but take away the hormones and things immediately went
from bad to really really bad in literally a single night’s time.

However two nights ago, despite battling the need to breathe while living
with a sinus infection along with poison ivy, I was actually asleep.

How do I know?
I was flat on my back.

I’m usually a side to stomach sleeper yet at some point or other,
when I’m really asleep, asleep—
I’m always mysteriously flat on my back.

At 1:30 in the morning, I became aware that I was itching.
Groggily I started scratching at my poison ivy now spreading across my torso.
Suddenly in my head, I was hearing a song that I know I had not heard playing that day
as some sort of background music in a store.

Clear as day, playing lyrically in my head.

It was a song I’ve always liked..a 90’s sort of song…Why I’ve always liked it,
I don’t know, but it has always made me feel a bit heavy-hearted and melancholy.
Again, I’m not sure as to why.
Although it’s an older song, it seems to still be quite relevant.

Rousing my brain to full awake mode, I opted to get up and head into the bathroom
in order to slather on some more anti-itch medicine— all the
while that song kept ringing in my head…

“And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it’s drawn me in…”

I crawled back into bed now restless as my thoughts were racing.
All the while still itching and listening to non-existent music playing.

Why was this song stuck in my head—especially when I was good and asleep??

The following morning, after grabbing my coffee, I googled the song.

According to Wikipedia , The lyrics are based on Dylan’s (Jakob Dylan)
own experiences while living in New York City, in particular, the story of a homeless man
who would sit outside Dylan’s window and play the same songs every day.
One day, the man was gone, but his things were still there,
until gradually people started taking them.

Well, that seemed to make it all feel even worse…doubly more sad than before.

So I kept digging a bit further.

What did the Bible have to say about a black line??

As I kept looking, I was constantly being redirected to the mark of Cain.

Hummmm.

Remember, being raised a poor illiterate Episcoplain kid, the breadth and depth
of Bible study was never my forte.
But I was now intrigued.

I knew Cain and Abel…really the very first tale of humankind’s lowest moments.
Or actually, that might have been their parents…but either way, we humans weren’t off
to the best of starts.

Choice…we never seem to have mastered choice…but I digress.

Why would God want me to think about all of this at 1:30 in the morning?
I know, I know…time to God is irrelevant but to a woman who hardly ever has deep
sleep, as in REM, I was just a tad frustrated.

There were (are) a lot of articles on the web about the mark of Cain
and many of them have some sort of racist connotation.
Naturally…it always goes back to race.

It seems race has been with us since the beginning of time and we still don’t know how to
deal with it—- gees…!
But again, I digress.

So after reading, I managed to find an interesting article on Bibleodyssey.com
written by Eva Mroxzek, an assistant professor of Jewish studies at Indiana University.

She hit on the whole good mark, bad mark thinking…
Cain killed his brother and God marked him for life.
The question…was or is…. was or is the mark a mark of shame or a mark of protection?

Was it leprosy?
A ‘keep your distance’ sort of mark?
Did God turn his skin a darker color?
Did God have a horn grow out of Cain’s head?
Did it have to do with circumcision?
Did God give Cain a dog?
Huh???

Did God have mercy on Cain and forgive him for having killed his brother…the first
recorded murder in human history only to followed by the greatest act of forgiveness??

But wait…was that the greatest act of forgiveness or was that actually
during Good Friday…
digressing again…

So, was the mark a mark of forgiveness…

On and on the so-called wise ones have debated this issue for eons.

And yet oddly here it comes visiting me at 1:30 in the morning by way of a 1996 song.

Ms, Mroczek notes at the end of her article…
“But the most striking interpretations rely on a later meaning of the Hebrew word oth:
a letter of the alphabet.
A midrashic text suggests that God inscribed a letter on Cain’s arm as a mark of protection
(Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer 21).
Thus, the mark of Cain becomes a sacred sign.
In another midrash (Tanhuma Genesis 10),
it is the word Sabbath that is inscribed on Cain’s face—after the personified Sabbath day
itself begged God to forgive Cain’s sin.
And a targum—an Aramaic translation of the Hebrew Scriptures—
identifies the mark as the holiest sign of all: God inscribes on Cain
“the great and honorable name of the LORD,” namely the tetragrammaton,
the four-letter name of God (YHWH).

https://www.bibleodyssey.org/people/related-articles/mark-of-cain

So the jury is still out.

Why the song?
Why the direction toward Cain?
And is this a message of foreboding or passage of forgiveness.

I’ll let you know what happens when the next hot flash rouses me from
what little precious sleep there is…I’m sure God will have His say…
I just wish I was wise enough to figure out where He was taking me.
But if I knew that…there’d be so many answers to so many questions…

Heartbreak does seem to be happeing on all sorts of 6th Avenues across this Nation…

Sirens ring, the shots ring out
A stranger cries, screams out loud
I had my world strapped against my back
I held my hands, never knew how to act
And the same black line that was drawn on you
Was drawn on me
And now it’s drawn me in
6th Avenue heartache
Below me was a homeless man
I’m singin’ songs I knew complete
On the steps alone, his guitar in hand
It’s fifty years, stood where he stands
Now walkin’ home on those streets
The river winds move my feet
Subway steam, like silhouettes in dreams
They stood by me, just like moonbeams
Look out the window, down upon that street
And gone like a midnight was that man
But I see his six strings laid against that wall
And all his things, they all look so small
I got my fingers crossed on a shooting star
Just like me just moved on