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Mark Glenn
Dear God,
I know you’ve got your hands full these days, what with the world barreling head-long into Armageddon, but there is something I would like to share with you in the hopes you might give me some advice. I am, as they say in a real pickle here and find myself being forced to choose between 2 masters.
It was a difficult moment for sure when I received the call from Dave the auto mechanic saying it was done, meaning the old 22 yr-old GMC Suburban–the ‘family truckster’ that we affectionately refer to as ‘the Beast’. I wanted to be happy it was finally repaired but at the same time knew that it being operable again opened up a whole new can of worms I didn’t feel like dealing with in the least, namely the business of doing my ‘Christian thing’ of going to church on Sundays. It–the Beast–had been down now for a good 4 months with a laundry list of problems making it unsafe to drive on North Idaho’s highways, leaving me with the little 25-year old Olds Cierra to tool around town, also not suitable for the business of going to see God, unless your idea of seeing Him is to do so in a manner up close and personal as a result of getting killed in it.
And so, the fact is that for the last 4 months (or rather, the last 16 Sundays) I had a perfectly viable, reasonable, believable and–more importantly-morally justifiable excuse for avoiding it, meaning church. Not wanting to tip my hand too much by kicking up my heals in celebration and relief over the fact we were not going, whenever ‘momma’–meaning my beautiful Italian wife, sighed and would say with unmistakable sadness how much she wished we could go and how long it’s been I maintained my composure and sense of decorum, did my best award-winning performance by affecting a look of despair mixed with disappointment while pretending to go along with her feelings.
The truth however was another matter altogether. I couldn’t despair over not going, not now at least. I came to regret not going to church the way someone regrets not getting his or her teeth worked on or the way a pesky, unlikable relative won’t be able to make it to Thanksgiving dinner this year because of bad weather.
Don’t get me wrong–it’s not that I am anti-religion. Not at all. I think religion can be–CAN BE–one of the greatest things in the world, provided it’s done right. More specifically I think Jesus was THE greatest guy who ever walked Your green earth and as much as possible I try to live my life in such a way that I imagine He would find agreeable or–dare I hope–laudable.
And the fact is, I really would like to go, just as much as I would love to start going to the firework celebrations on July 4th or get worked up in hopeful expectation over a new candidate running for office. The problem is, as far as church goes, I can’t, because it–meaning church–has (like everything else in ‘Judeo-Christian’ America these days) been corrupted and co-opted to be used for the benefit of a hostile, foreign power that is out to destroy me, my family and everything that means anything to me.
The problem as I see it Lord is that the churches in America today are no longer churches. They have become synagogues (or at least agencies for such) in that they no longer preach the revolutionary, no-holds barred message of Palestine’s greatest freedom fighter, Your son, Jesus Christ. The priests and preachers are no longer the descendants of those who risked life, liberty and pursuit of happiness in going up against the enemies of all that is good their evil designs. Now these shepards leading the flock preach things the way that the Jews (and more importantly, the Jewish state) want things preached, which means America bending over–forwards AND backwards–in giving (pardon what appears to be my flippancy here) ‘Your chosen people’ every damned thing they demand, including war, more war, and last but not least–never-ending war.
And this is where it all began for me, this process of ‘dechurchifying’ myself and my beloved family from what to me had become a poisonous environment. When I witnessed immediately after 9/11 that horrifying sense of collective stupidity as it gnawed and crept its way into the mind of my fellow church-folk, I knew something bad was a-brewin’ and immediately started looking for the exit sign lest I contract whatever contagion it was that was driving them mad. All the business the Jewish media in America was vomiting out about Islam and jihad and the 72 virgins and all the rest of that happy horseshit–I would hear it all day on the news and then hear all over again at church on Sundays. These same people who couldn’t find Iraq on a map if their freaking lives depended on it and who the very day before 9/11 knew the media couldn’t be trusted to tell the truth if there were a fortune to be made by doing so all the sudden became experts on the whole Middle Eastern business as a result of the magic potion they chugged down proffered from our lying Jewish media. After church, a whole gaggle of them, each with a coffee in one hand and donut in the other putting their individual 2 cent’s worth into what was already an unbearable cacophony about how America had, just HAD to go and blow the sand niggers to Kingdom Come. If someone had pointed out to them that there was no difference between what they as ‘Christians’–the supposed followers of Your son, the Prince Of Peace–were saying and what was said the previous Saturday night at every synagogue in America it would have had no relevance whatsoever.
But then, what else was I to expect? Not only were they getting it from the pulpit in their living rooms, meaning the TV, but now they were getting it from their priests, preachers and pastors as well who parroted out all the old worn-out lies about Islam hanging around now for the past 1,000 years. Trying to make them see they were being played for fools was as pointless as trying to talk someone down from cloud 9 after he just got an email from some widow of a murdered African leader promising the sum of 45 million if he would just provide a name, social security number and bank account. Not only were they Christians, meaning the only ‘saved’ people on earth, they were Americans, the smartest people on earth.
And it just continued like that, year after year as the war went on. From the pulpit, priest after priest invoking his flock to ‘pray’ for success in Iraq in bringing these poor, backwards camel jockeys all the ‘good stuff,’ meaning truth, justice and the American way. Of course, staying true to form, my Christian kinfolk swallowed the bait every damned time Bush or one of his lying Jewish spy handlers got on TV and praised all the ‘progress’ that was being made in the war and Father so-and-so (whoever the hell he happened to be for that particular week) made sure to mention it from the pulpit as a means of encouraging the flock to keep fighting the good fight. The overall mood of support for the war–passive or active–reflected itself in the fact that every year 1 or 2 of the parish boys who had just ‘come of age’ wound up joining some branch of the military, to say nothing of the sea of bumper stickers in the parking lot every week saying ‘Bush’ or ‘Rush is Right’ or some other flavor of nonsense.
In the meantime, in our home, we followed the events too, but from the standpoint of rage and despair. We saw the Iraqi and Afghani kids, blown to pieces as American bombs were dropped on their homes in the middle of the night and the mothers and fathers who wailed in unimaginable and incalculable agony as the remains of God’s gift to them–their little ones–were put in the earth to be devoured by worms.
And so, when Dave the car-fixit-guy called to break the good news to me that my viable, reasonable, believable, and-more importantly-morally justifiable excuse for avoiding church on Sunday had vanished into thin air like some ‘lose-20 lbs’ New Year’s resolution evaporates at a buffet table, my heart sank.
I examined the feelings gripping me at that moment–despair, disappointment, but more importantly, fear. The thought of going back in there terrified me. The absence of it all for the last 4 months had done me a hell of a lot of good, to borrow a seemingly out-of-place expression. I was not as bitter, not as angry. I still thought often of the collective stupidity that flourished amongst my co-religionists but I was still able to keep it under control. From time to time I would run into some of my fellow church-folk while in town who remarked they had not seen us at mass lately. When I would tell them my concerns, they responded by reminding me that I needed the sacraments–as if they were multi-vitamins of some sort–for my ‘spiritual health’. Well, pardon me, but what good were the sacraments doing them? Everyone of these people were there, week after week, hell, sometimes DAY AFTER DAY, standing in line to get their communion or their confession or their confirmation–take your pick–and what good did it do for them? NADA. They were for the most part as dumb as bails of hay and didn’t even know it. During election season no doubt they wet their pants in excitement over the Jews’ selection of Sarah ‘Israel’s flag is the only one I have in my office’ Palin as McCain’s running mate, put their McCain/Palin stickers over their ‘Bush’ stickers from the previous election and thought they were doing right by God. I was so relieved not to have been there when the Palin-as-McCain’s-running-mate election crap hit the fan as I knew it would have put me over the edge. They sit and talk about the coming ‘end of the world’ and ‘the abomination of desolation’ and a whole lot of other pretty scary things and yet all their church-going has done nothing to open their eyes that they are part and parcel of dumping into the lives of millions of innocent people.
By contrast, during the period we were attending, I would wake up Sunday mornings in a bad mood, grumble the whole way to church, get a sick feeling in my stomach while I was there and then be in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. Naturally my mood affected everyone else and usually by mid-afternoon several arguments had broken out and the various family members wandered off angry as an uncomfortable silence fell over what would normally have been (and should have been) a happy household.
It was the same with the kids. For better or for worse, they didn’t miss a beat. They honed in on the symptoms of the sickness that had gripped a goodly number of the godly people there every week. Those who were not stupid in their support for the war and what was being done with their tax dollars were stupid with apathy. Having dropped their impossible-to-stomach discussions about the war, they went back to the usual business of Americans–talking about sports, cars, and how everyone else in the world was going to hell except for them. In a conversation with one of the priests once, we got into a discussion about politics and the topic of Iran came up. When he learned that the US was getting ready to bomb the hell out of the place for no reason the same way we had done to Iraq, he was shocked. He had not been ‘following the news’ lately and was not up to speed, despite the fact it has been a major topic of discussion now for several years. So much for our fearless leaders staying on top of things and figuring it all out for the rest of us. As he sat there with that stupid look on his face, no embarrassment whatsoever over the fact that he knew nothing about what was the impending Armageddon, I thought to myself that when something went ‘BOOM’ in America, something REALLY big that would then be blamed on those nasty old ‘EYE’ranians that he would then become an expert on it just like the others had become experts after 9/11 on everything and would be telling people to get behind the war machine and ‘render unto Caesar’, a bastardization of what Your Son Jesus told us to do.
I went and picked up the beast, brought it home and waited for ‘it’–meaning the elation from my wife and the accompanying statement–‘Hey, this means we can go to church again’ that she would no doubt say. I would again have to do my best award-winning performance, except now in hiding my joy and affecting a sense of disappointment and despair I would have to do the opposite.
I had already made up my mind that we would indeed go, that I would put my personal nausea aside and choose (what I thought) was the lesser of 2 evils and start taking the brood back to church. Sundays would again become something I dreaded, but I would do my best to not let myself get too worked up and instead would look on the bright side, that my kids were in God’s house. Who knows, maybe in the last 4 months a volte-face had taken place, the collective stupidity had worn off and the priests finally got pissed off as they should have a long time ago and came to realize that this thing taking place was something of incalculable evil and that as true Christians we could have nothing whatsoever to do with it.
And then, out of the blue, as if it were an answer to my prayers or like finding a $50 bill in a pair of old pants you haven’t worn in a while, ‘it’ popped up, meaning a newspaper article ‘SC priest: No communion for Obama supporters’ that read in part as follows–
‘A South Carolina Roman Catholic priest has told his parishioners they should refrain from receiving Holy Communion if they voted for Barack Obama because the Democratic president-elect supports abortion, and supporting him “constitutes material cooperation with intrinsic evil.”
“Voting for a pro-abortion politician when a plausible pro-life alternative exists constitutes material cooperation with intrinsic evil, and those Catholics who do so place themselves outside of the full communion of Christ’s Church and under the judgment of divine law. Persons in this condition should not receive Holy Communion until and unless they are reconciled to God in the Sacrament of Penance, lest they eat and drink their own condemnation.”
And as I read it Lord, that familiar sea of emotions swarmed over me as they would Sundays at church as I listened to the discussions taking place. Shock, disbelief, followed by disgust, than rage, than depression and despair. Now, on the face of it there is nothing wrong with what the man-the-cloth here–Rev. Jay Scott Newman is saying here. After all, what we are talking about here is something that has got to be one of the worst abominations that could occur, meaning to take a living human being and chop him or her up, piece by piece, until he or she bleeds to death in unspeakable pain. Indeed, abortion is something intrinsically evil and no Christian should lend his or her hand to it in any way if he or she wants to be ‘right with God’.
No, it was that one part where he said that supporting Obama constituted ‘material cooperation with intrinsic evil’ and particularly when ‘a plausible pro-life alternative exists’.
Pardon my French here Lord, but just where the hell has this person been for the last 5 years? Has he seen what has taken place in Iraq and Afghanistan? There are over 2 million–that’s a 2 with six zeros behind it–innocent people dead. Shot. Burned to death. Their limbs ripped off their bodies–the very same bodies you made in your image–as if the whole thing were one giant abortion and America were the ‘doctor’ performing the ‘procedure’. Has he seen the children born with birth defects as a result of the radiation poisoning the US introduced there? Has he seen what has happened in Lebanon, where young kids come along and pick up unexploded cluster bombs left there by Israel, only to have their arms and legs blown off? There have been over 1,000 kids ‘aborted’ by Israel, the ultimate abortionist in the Middle East just in the last few years. John McCain, the ‘plausible’ pro-life candidate, not only voted in favor of this procedure throughout the relevant time period, but promised that as Prez he would make sure to continue and widen it so that even more of these ‘late-term abortions’ will occur in places such as Iran and Syria, and with Federal Funds, might I add.
And yet, this guy does not get it Lord, and unfortunately he’s not alone. I have yet to meet a priest, preacher or pastor of nary a Christian sect in the last half-decade that ‘got it’ with regards to the war and what our duties are regarding it. They are too worried about getting on the bad side of the Jews, the same people who (if the words of your Son Jesus are to be taken literally) care nothing about Your laws of mercy and love of neighbor. They are too worried about having their 501c3 tax exempt status taken away or becoming targets of groups such as the ADL or the SPLC.
I am in a real mess here Lord, as I said, because the fact of the matter is, I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want my kids to be infected with their way of thinking, where the world you created goes to hell in a hand basket and they maintain that ‘B-F-D’ attitude that is so prevalent today in the West. I want to care, to retain my humanity and be able to choose between right and wrong, but I don’t think I can do it while attending church.
Signed,
Dazed and Confused
* * * * *
Dear Dazed,
As much as it may be hard to believe, I am hearing from more and more people these days suffering the same problem as yours. The bad news is that your suspicions are correct–my churches have been turned into synagogues where slowly but surely the original teachings of my Son are replaced with their opposite. The good news though is that what your discomfort shows is that your immune system is functioning just as it should. The time to worry is when all of this nonsense taking place in the churches does not bother you anymore, as indeed it does not bother most of those in attendance today.
Remember, nothing changes but the changes. It was the same thing back when My Son was on earth. He talked until he was blue in the face and even His own followers did not get it sometimes. There was actually a time where He was warning them about the Jewish leaders and what they were planning to do in making this place a genuine hell-on-earth, saying ‘beware the leaven of the Pharisees’ only to come back a while later and find them in a big discussion about bread. Go figure.
Remember when He hung on the cross–there were only two people there with Him, His mother and His friend John. Everyone else, friend and foe alike had either abandoned Him or else mocked Him and it is no different today. As painful and as frightening as it is, be glad you are among the few who have chosen to remain at the foot of the cross during this time of terrible suffering for Him as he sees His enemies gloating over their ‘success’.
As far as what you should do, the answer seems pretty simple–you cannot serve 2 masters, and if you have to choose between being a ‘Christian’ in the legalistic sense–meaning attending church and participating in all that ‘happy horseshit’ as you put it vs. keeping your peace of mind and quietness of heart intact, then the answer is a ‘no-brainer’ as they say. After all, as My Son predicted with frightening accuracy over 2,000 years ago, there would come a time where the deception would be so powerful that even ‘the elect would be deceived’ if possible, and if this present situation does not fit that criteria, than it frightens me to think what will. Besides, my patience with these people is running mighty thin these days, and barring some miracle, I will be forced to do to them what I did to the Jewish state in 70 AD when I sent the Romans in under Titus and leveled the place, leaving ‘not one stone upon another’, just as My Son predicted would occur.
In other words, I think it is perfectly proper for you to ‘come out from among them and be ye separate’ as I think the saying goes.
God
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Source: http://theuglytruth.wordpress.com/2008/11/17/dear-god/