SIN

Father Ignatius had been asked to take Sister Josephine’s Catechism class again as she was away on business. This time he attended to the top class at school – the 16 and 17 years old.

They were discussing sin and the nature of sin; and especially how often God was willing to forgive our sins.

They had mentioned Christ’s famous saying about forgiving 70 times 7 and understood that this did not mean literally that number of times. But, in discussion, they seemed confused about the various degrees of gravity between one sin and another.

“Does God forgive greediness like having an extra piece of cake, or chocolate, as much as He forgives cheating on one’s husband or wife?” asked a student sitting up front.

Father Ignatius cleaned his glasses of imaginary smudges just to gain some thinking time. 

“It’s true to suggest that there are various degrees of seriousness between one sin and another,” he said quietly, “and the Church has tried, over the years, to help with this distinction by denoting venial and mortal sins.

“Traditionally, this has meant that breaking one of the Commandments is a mortal sin.

But there’s more to it than that in my opinion!

“You’re all astute enough to know the difference between having extra cake, or in my case extra ginger marmalade, and cheating on one’s spouse, or stealing, or murder.

“There is an obvious difference in seriousness between these sins and God views them differently as such. But He is wise too, and He considers the circumstances behind the sin; not just their degree of seriousness.”

He stopped for a second or two to gain their attention.

“We know that the Church, for instance, considers not going to Mass on Sunday as a mortal sin. It is after all one of the Commandments” the priest continued.

“Now, in my view, I believe that God looks for the real intent of that sin before deciding on its degree of gravity.

“Was missing Sunday Mass the result of an act of laziness brought about by tiredness, by having a good Saturday night with plenty to eat and drink?”

They all laughed.

“Or was it a deliberate attempt to defy and disobey God?” he continued as the laughter died down.

“If it’s the former, then God will consider it a sin of weakness. Not too different from the sin of weakness of Christ’s disciples when they could not stay awake as Jesus prayed in the garden before His arrest.

“God knows all about our weak nature. He did create us after all! He knows full well I have a weakness for ginger marmalade, and some of you have a weakness for chocolate or whatever.

“And He forgives that sin for what it is. Provided of course we repent and try our best not to repeat it. Albeit our weakness may cause us to sin yet again.

“He is of course disappointed at our behavior. Very much as a loving parent would be disappointed at the behavior of his children. Yet He forgives it again and again.

“So missing Mass on Sunday because of the occasional laziness, I believe, would be viewed with disappointment for what it is … a sin of weakness.”

“So is it not a mortal sin then?” asked one pupil.

“Yeh … what if someone dies with venial sins, but has missed Mass due to laziness. Does he go to hell?” asked another.

Father Ignatius waited a second or two before going on.

“As I said, the Church does designate missing Sunday Mass as a mortal sin. I believe God looks at the intent, the very reason, behind the sin before deciding on its seriousness.

“So in the example you mention I believe that God would not exclude a person from Heaven purely because he missed Mass as a result of a drinking hangover.

“If on the other hand someone misses Mass because He doesn’t believe in God, or in direct defiance of God, then that is more serious.

“Let me explain what I mean to be in defiance of God. This means being in full knowledge of God yet having the impertinence, the impudence, the audacity to stand up against Him.

“This means making oneself as big and as important as the Lord God Himself.

“We read in the Bible about the original sin committed by Adam and Eve when they ate the forbidden fruit. What do we learn from this?”

“Don’t eat in the nude!” replied one of the school’s comedians as the class broke into total laughter.

Father Ignatius tapped the ruler gently on the desk to regain control of the class. As they settled down he continued.

“Adam and Eve wanted to be like God. That’s what the devil told them would happen if they ate the fruit. Theirs was a sin of defiance, not weakness. They didn’t want to know what the fruit tasted like. They wanted to be like Him.

“Over the years since then, many have tried to defy God. To stand up to Him instead of loving and obeying Him. The Pharisees did not believe that Jesus was the Son of God. Now that in itself is bad enough. They made the choice, given freely by God, to believe in Him or not.

“But they went further. They attributed Christ’s powers to the devil, knowing full well this is not so. And they encouraged others to stand up against Him.

“Some theologians call this the un-forgivable sin against the Holy Spirit. And many have debated it over the years and wondered whether it can be committed today, considering that Jesus is not visible amongst us as He was then.

“Personally, I don’t think this is important. What is important however is our relationship, individually, with God.

“Do we believe in Him? And if we do, do we honor, love and obey Him or do we stand against Him.

“Remember, even the devil believes in God. So believing alone is not enough. What is the action, the intent, behind our belief? That’s what God looks for and judges.

“These days, sadly, there are many amongst us in our society who do not believe in God. That is of course their prerogative, and whether we call it a mortal sin or not, we know that only God will judge those individuals when the time comes.

“But what is worse, is when those individuals encourage others to follow in their ways by what they say, and what they write or do, which serves as an example to others. They are no different to those people at the time of Christ who tried to lead others astray.

“Not to believe in God is one thing … but to lead others to do the same is far far worse in the eyes of God.”

The priest stopped again to ensure the message hit home.

“As I said many times before” he continued, “no one goes to hell by mistake.

“God judges each and every sin according to its seriousness and its intent. He sees deep into our hearts and knows whether it is a sin of human weakness or a sin of defiance against His Divinity and omnipotence.

“And of course, He forgives. He forgives as many times as is necessary if our repentance is genuine. Our remorse is genuine. And our determination not to sin again is genuine.

“To go to hell requires a soul to be in complete breakdown of communication with God. Not just the occasional missing of Sunday Mass.

“I view life a bit like that tree out there,” he said looking out of the window, “you see how it is leaning to one side? When the time comes for that tree to die and fall the chances are it will fall in the direction it is leaning. Not the opposite direction.

“We too, if we spend our lives in communion with God, doing what He asks of us, the chances are when our time comes we would fall into His loving waiting arms!”

Understanding Paul's letter to the Corinthians

I entered the house after delivering another load of tents to the local Outdoor Pursuits Shop.

Paul was sitting at the table writing on another pile of parchment papers.

“Hello” I said, “would you like a hot drink?”

“What have you to offer?” he asked without looking up.

“Hot boiled fish water sweetened with honey …” I replied casually.

“The same old brew …” he mumbled in disgust, “when will someone discover coffee, or tea or hot chocolate drink?”

“There’s also hot milk and honey from the Promised Land!” I said encouragingly; but he did not answer.

I asked him what he was writing.

“It’s a letter to the people of Corinth …” he said, “I have to finish it today and send it before postage costs go up yet again …

“They’ve asked me for advice on how to live … just basic advice. I mean … can’t these people think for themselves. Here, have a read” he continued, as he passed me some bits of parchment which smelled like old goat skins.

I read … “Chapter 7 - Verse 1”

For some reason Paul always wrote his letters by numbering every chapter and every verse. I don’t know why he did that. Must be some affectation of some kind I suppose. He wrote:

“A man does well not to marry.”

“Hein?” I thought, “what’s he on about?” I kept on reading what seemed to be rather personal advice to these Corinthian people; albeit good advice I must say, and then again, at Verse 7 he wrote:

“Actually, I would prefer if all of you were single as I am …You single people and widows, it is better if you continue to live alone; just as I do …”

I stopped and looked at him writing there. I wondered why he’d never got married. Perhaps having met my mother-in-law he got frightened out of matrimony altogether.

But his advice made no sense. How can he possibly say a man should not marry, and in fact he’d prefer all of them to remain single and live alone?

I asked him “How would people multiply if they followed your advice?”

“What’s Mathematics to do with it?” he replied without looking up, “they can learn their multiplication tables like every one else!”

“No …” I said hesitantly, “I mean … you know … doing it … having babies …”

“Oh … I gave them a let out clause in Verse 9” Paul continued nonchalantly, “I told them if they can’t control themselves they’d better get married anyway.

“I really can’t understand those people … why can’t they distract themselves by playing card games, or Monopoly or similar board games. The shops are full of them!”

I kept on reading and I must admit I got a bit embarrassed at the personal advice which followed. He meant well, I suppose, and maybe those Corinthians were a little slow on the up-take and needed very detailed advice on how to live as early Christians.

Then at Verse 26 he repeated his opinions again.

“If a man is unmarried he should stay this way. If he is married he should not get rid of his wife!”

“Charming” I thought, “no doubt he’s considered the costs of divorce and alimony when giving this advice.

But then his letter continued:

“Are you unmarried? Then don't look for a wife ... I would rather spare you the everyday troubles that married people will have.”

Well, my mother-in-law certainly has had an influence on him; I thought.

I got out of the house somewhat more confused than those Corinthians will be when they receive this letter.

I was met by my wife and mother-in-law coming home from a shopping trip. Before I had time to welcome them mom-in-law said:

“What are you doing lazing in the sun? Have you no work to do?”

My insensitive sensitivity

I think I am generally a sensitive person always caring for other people's feelings as best I can; even though at times my own feelings are really hurt; like the many times Lego bricks are left lying on the carpet and I step on one of them in bare feet. I politely say "By Jove, that was a tad uncomfortable!" and move on, rather than let my real feelings come to the fore.

The point I'm trying to make here is that although I try my best in the "caring" department there are times when circumstances conspire to make me appear insensitive.

Years ago we had a guinea pig called Porcus. Why a Latin name, I don't know. I would have gladly named him Pork, or Bacon, or Ham ... but hey ... the family chose Porcus and that's what it was.

For a few days I was at home alone. The family had gone away and left me in charge of the dog, the cat, the goldfish and Porcus the guinea pig. Not a difficult task really, and plenty of time to watch a series of football games on TV.

All was well in the household until one morning ...

I got up and found Porcus dead in his cage. I shook him up to wake him ... but no, he would not move. I rattled the cage and shouted "Wakey Wakey Porcus" but he did not respond. He was as deaf as a deaf bat! (Best simile I could think of at the time).

I bounced him up and down on the floor but he still would not move. He was well and truly dead.

What an inconsiderate stupid creature! Why could he not die at any other time? Why choose the only time I am alone at home to decide to die? Was it because of the football? Was the TV too loud? Did he not like who won the game last night? Why die now and have everyone blaming me for not taking care of the animals in my care? It was meant to be an easy task after all!

More important ... what do I do with the dead Porcus?

I can't keep him until they come back because he'll begin to smell. Unless I keep him in the freezer! No ... that's stupid ... I'll be blamed for accidentally freezing him to death! Unless I keep him in the freezer and thaw him out in the microwave a few hours before they return! No ... that's stupid too ... I'll be asked when he died. If I tell the truth I'll be asked how come he is still "fresh" and not smelling after a few days of dying. If I lie that he'd just died, I'd have to go to Confession for lying. It's sometimes inconvenient being a Catholic and having to confess.

I've decided ... I have to get rid of Porcus.

How do I do that? Throw him in the trash can? That's not too dignified is it? Bury him in the garden? That's a possibility ...

For some unknown reason I decided to take the easy way out and give him a naval burial by flushing Porcus down the toilet.

Porcus took his revenge by blocking the toilet system. He got stuck in one of the pipes and would not go away.

I called a plumber ... have you tried calling a plumber in an emergency? They are all too busy for the next century and a half. The most amenable could only come in ten years' time. He said he'll be here in the afternoon because he was busy that morning!

Eventually a plumber arrived and sent Porcus on his way to a watery grave. He asked me what I'll do when the family gets home ... and suggested a replacement would ease the grief and get everyone to focus on naming the new pet.

Good idea ... off to the pet shop I went ... and then the next pet shop ... and the next ... there were no more guinea pigs in the whole wide world. We tried the planet next door, the whole galaxy ... no guinea pigs ...

I was offered a selection of hamsters. In sheer desperation I chose a hamster the same colour and size as Porcus.

As soon as they returned home and looked at the cage I heard "That's not a guinea pig ... it is a hamster!"

Why is it they have to educate children to know the difference between a guinea pig and a hamster? I mean ... does it really matter? It's small ... furry ... and fits in a cage!

So I had to admit it was a hamster and it was not Porcus doing an imitation of a hamster. I explained that Porcus had been swapped for a hamster because he was homesick and pining to see his family again.

They bought it ... phew ... my sensitivity had triumphed once again!

Who do you think I am?

In Matthew Chapter 16 verse 13 onwards we read that Jesus asked His disciples "Who do you say I am?"

Peter answered quite rightly, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God".

I now ask you "Who do you think you are?"

I am not asking you for your name, the name of your parents, or your family lineage. I am not asking you whether you are male or female, single, married, divorced, separated or in partnership with anyone. Whether you are a parent or uncle, aunt or whatever. I am not even asking you whether you are a doctor, nurse, lawyer, carpenter or whatever your job may be; if you have one.

I am asking you "Who do you think you are?"

Do you really know yourself? To know oneself deeply and fully we should consider "what makes us tick". What is it that makes us who we are, or what we have become as we grew up, or are still growing up.

We are all the product of our background, environment, parentage, up-bringing and a variety of other factors that make us what we are now. But have we ever taken the time to consider how these factors have affected us and made us what we are today?

Take for instance our opinions on any subject. Our views. Our prejudices (for we all have them no matter what we lead others to believe). Our fears real or imagined. Are these all of our own making or are they pre-set opinions or views we have heard or learnt from others and adapted them to suit our own beliefs and requirements?

How many of our views and opinions are indeed logically assessed and formulated by us as opposed to following someone else's views?

Let's go back to the Scripture quoted above. If Jesus challenged us and asked "Who do you say I am?" What would our honest, no hesitation, response be?

And if He asked "Who do you think you are?" What would our answer be?

Whatever our opinion of ourselves may be, or whatever or whoever we think we are. One think is for sure. We are all the Creations of God. Indeed we are the sons and daughters of God.

Why else would we call Him Father when we recite the Lord's prayer?

History - A load of old bones

 

I had reason to visit our local suburban museum the other day. As I have been accused by some to being somewhat uncultured I decided to spend an hour or so looking around and educating myself in matters which will stand me in good stead in future cultured surroundings.

Here’s what I learnt:

In a large room at the museum there was a collection of various dinosaurs’ skeletons big and small with unpronounceable names such as leptospirosis and tri-cycle-steps; and they all had small labels with the dates of their various ages. One skeleton had no label so I asked the attendant in that room how old it was.

He replied with confidence “It is 230 million years and 9 months and 3 weeks old, Sir.”

“That’s very precise,” I said in amazement.

“Yes Sir,” he said, “I have been working here for 9 months and 3 weeks and it was 230 million years old when I started.”

Now that’s something I didn’t know.

I then moved on to another room which had a lot of human skeletons and different bone parts collected from various places in the world. On a table there were two skulls – a small one and a larger one. The labels both read “Skull of Ivan Eyefull - Marco Polo’s bodyguard”.

I asked the attendant to explain and he told me that one skull belonged to the bodyguard when he was a child and the other when he was a grown man.

It was fortunate that both were found by the same archaeologist in the same excavations in the desert where Marco Polo had a picnic and his bodyguard choked on a fishbone stuck in his throat.

I was amazed at what archaeologists can learn from just a pile of bones. They must be really clever with all their knowledge and research.

The museum attendant, who had knowledge written all over him, (some jokers had done it with permanent ink), told me a story I'll never forget ... You'll probably never forget it too.

He said that an archaeologist was digging in the Negev Desert in Israel and came upon a casket containing a mummy. After opening it carefully he recognised it straight away and he phoned the curator of a prestigious natural history museum. "We've just discovered a 3,000 year old mummy of a man who died of heart failure!" 
 
The curator of the museum quickly sent a team to collect the mummy for thorough examination.

A week later, the amazed curator called the archaeologist. "You were right about the mummy's age and cause of death. How in the world did you know it was heart failure?"

"Simple ... there was a piece of paper in his hand that said - 'put me down for 10,000 Shekels on Goliath'."

I also discovered something else when visiting our local museum:

Statistics of marriages and divorces over the years show that archaeologists make the best spouses. The older you get the more interested they are in you.

History - Charles Darwin

Charles Darwin was a controversial Englishman, naturalist and geologist who lived between 1809 and 1882. He came up with the idea of evolution. That is to say that humans have evolved over many many years from another species of animal - basically monkeys.

At the risk of over-simplifying all his works and theories here, suffice it to say that he believed that one species does change into another.

In his book On the Origin of Species he writes "As many more individuals of each species are born than can possibly survive; and as, consequently, there is a frequently recurring struggle for existence, it follows that any being, if it vary however slightly in any manner profitable to itself, under the complex and sometimes varying conditions of life, will have a better chance of surviving, and thus be naturally selected. From the strong principle of inheritance, any selected variety will tend to propagate its new and modified form."

In other words, each generation would evolve a little bit more than its predecessor in order to improve itself and adapt to its environment and thus survive. He added that "light will be thrown on the origin of man and his history".

Ever since the theory that men could be descended from apes came to light people have been arguing for and against that particular possibility.


What I'd like us to focus on, however, is the possibility that we may have evolved, over time into what we are now. We may not have started as apes, but perhaps we were always humans who looked like apes; i.e. we were covered with a lot of hair to keep us warm since clothes had not yet been invented and were not easily purchased on the Internet.

As we learnt to cover ourselves, first with fig leaves, (they don't cover much do they), and then with various animal skins, we evolved into humans with less and less body hair. So ... what I am saying is ... we did not evolve from apes but from humans who were covered with body hair when they roamed naked and then lost this covering when fashionable clothing was made available in shops and on-line.

Are you with me so far?

It doesn't matter if you don't agree. Just hold that thought for a moment.

Now then ... as time goes by we "evolve" or adapt to survive our various environments. There is evidence for instance that in the Middle Ages people were much smaller and shorter than they are now. This is seen from the size of doorways in castles, and from bones found in graves. But as time went by and diets improved, as well as health standards, today's people are much bigger and stronger compared to their Middle Ages counterpart.

Now, if we accept this fact. It follows that we continue to evolve as time goes by into the future. Who knows how future people would look like!

Do we need toe nails for instance? What are they used for? Perhaps future people will not have toe nails.

But as we get busier and busier a second mouth would come in handy. We could use one mouth for talking, or answering the phone, and another for eating our lunch. This way we don't need to have a lunch break and we would work for longer and be more productive.

Personally, I'd like a mouth on top of my head. This way I could put a sandwich under my hat and eat it whilst going to work.

It would also be a good idea to have an extra eye. Say at the end of your index finger. This way you could clean your ear and see what's inside at the same time.

You know how you sometimes say "I've only got one pair of hands!" Well ... wouldn't it be nice to have two pairs of hand? Both coming from the side like now. This way I could drive the car and scratch my bottom at the same time.

I'm beginning to like this evolution thing. I wonder what else we could think of? A turkey with 12 legs so we can have one each on Thanksgiving and Christmas? Problem is ... he'd run too fast and we won't be able to catch it. Scrap that idea!

Can you think of any evolutionary ideas which would benefit us in the future? Don't be shy now ... let your imagination run wild and share your thoughts with us.

I promise not to laugh!

History - Helen and Hannibal and others too

An interesting thing you notice when learning ancient history is the number of people whose names start with the letter H.

Today we'll learn about a few of them. No doubt you can think of others.

We start with a Greek doctor called Hippocrates (460 - 357 BC), who studied bodies expertly and believed in proper healing based on science as it was limitedly known then. He invented the Hippocritical Oath which promised that he'd heal any hippopotamus regardless to the danger to himself. As there were no hippos in Greece his promise was never tested. So he healed hippies instead.

He believed in bleeding as a cure for most things. When a sick man visited him a quick punch on the nose followed by a nosebleed sorted him out. He also took samples from sick people like, their vomit, nose droppings, ear wax, tears and urine and tested it by tasting it. It is not clear what he discovered but no doubt he often had stomach ache.

Heraclitus (c. 535 – c. 475 BC) was a Greek philosopher who didn't like people in general. He was always sad and melancholy (face like a melon and body like a collie) and always cried in his beer in the pub. He was known as the "Weeping Philosopher"; and no doubt bored every one to death with his cheerful stories!

One day Heraclitus got sick with dropsy and no doctor could cure him. So he decided to cure himself by covering his body with cow manure and sitting in the sun for it to bake. This certainly did the trick. He died within a day.

Which goes to prove - when you're up to your neck in **** don't sit in public for all to see.

Helen of Troy - now listen carefully because this bit is a little confusing. Zeus the Greek god was chased by an eagle so he turned into a swan. Whilst he was a swan he hid with a woman called Leda and fell in love with her. With me so far?

Leda produced an egg from which Helen of Troy was born.

Helen then went on holiday to Paris (or is it with Paris?) and they had a great time.

Homer was a Greek author living around 850 BC and is thought to have written two outstanding books called the Iliad and the Odyssey. Unfortunately, opinion is divided as to whether Homer actually wrote both works; a bit like the debate about whether Shakespeare did actually write all that he wrote. After various attempts to contact the publishers to find out the truth it was discovered that they'd gone out of business. So we'll never resolve this mystery.

Hannibal (247 - 183/182/181 BC) was a Carthaginian military man who appears to have died three times. Either that or perhaps we don't know when he died. But die he did!

He is most famously remembered for marching an army which included elephants from Spain to Italy over a range of mountains known as The Pair of Knees and the Alps.

Whilst on the Alps he lost many elephants because he did not have skis big enough for them to wear. But the apres-ski parties were great fun.

He defeated the Romans in Italy because they had not seen elephants with skis before. After the battles he set up a travelling Circus with the elephants.

Hadrian was a Roman Emperor (76 AD - 138 AD) at the time the Romans conquered most of Britain up to the Northern borders with Scotland. there he built a great wall dividing the country from coast to coast.

The wall was 117 kilometers long and several portions still exist and are a great tourist attraction. It is so big that you can see the moon from there.

A few years back some archaeologists digging near the wall found a few spent match sticks and cigarette ends, proving that the Romans did smoke the same brands as we do now. They also found a cell-phone which was sent to a lab in London to find out whether it contains photos of the Romans all those years ago.

Finally, in this History Lesson of people whose names begin with the letter H we have to mention Heel.Now come along ... pay attention ... don't tell me you've never heard of Achilles Heel?

Apparently he was a demi-god, a hero of the Tojan War and the son of Thetis and Peleus. When he was a baby his mother dipped Achilles into the river Styx to make him immortal and invincible. She held him by his heel and dipped him right in; and that's how he got the name Achilles Heel. Since then he was invincible except of course for the bit of his heel which was not dipped in the water. He was killed by a Frenchman called Paris who shot him in the heel with an arrow. He was aiming for his back at the time but missed by shooting too low.

Now what is not clear is why his stupid mother had not dipped him totally into the river Styx. That way, not only would he have been totally invincible but her hand too would have been invincible. Can you imagine? Being able to pull out a pot of meat from a hot oven without the need for oven gloves. Or being the catcher in a game of baseball without needing those big gloves. I bet there are many things she could have done with an invincible hand.

For your homework this week I want you to write ten things you'd be able to do with an invincible hand.

Ignatius' Inferno

The first thing Father Ignatius noticed as he entered hell is the total and absolute darkness of the place. Not the faintest glimmer of light shone in that bottomless abyss of intense void.

He tried hard to peer into the pitch-black darkness to make out something, but it was totally in vain. He could see nothing. Totally and completely nothing.

It was then that he noticed the full and utter silence which accompanied the extreme blackness of this place. Not a sound whatsoever. It was as if he had gone suddenly deaf. He rubbed his fingers in his ears and concentrated hard but silence reigned supreme. He clapped his hands together but heard nothing. He spoke to himself and could not hear his own voice.

Darkness and silence had partnered together and negated all the senses as he knew them. He could not smell anything whatsoever. No burning fires and brimstone, or the acrid smell of sulfur he’d expected in this place. He could feel no burning sensation and pain. No cries of help or gnashing of teeth.

In other words; hell was nothing.

Hell was a total void of everything physical as he’d experienced in his previous life.

Yet in this pure nothingness he felt a very powerful and intense feeling of extreme sadness. An overwhelming grief leading to desolation and desperation tormented his very soul.

A continuous sensation of sorrow and anguish filled the emptiness which was hell.

He sensed another soul there too. He could not make out who or where it was but it was there, somehow, sharing the void with him.

He felt a telepathic communication with this spirit in similar torment. Not in words, not in images, but in a mutual empathic sensation, as if the two were one.

He shared that soul’s torment which had lasted for … … … an eternity.

There seemed to be no beginning as to when that soul arrived in this eternal void, nor any prospect of when its terrible terrible suffering would end. The total and perfect hopelessness of this state of nothingness, this state of wretched emptiness, engulfed the forgotten soul consumed by its everlasting regrets.

For this lost soul constantly and interminably viewed and reviewed over and again its past life on earth; filled with memories best forgotten yet brought to mind with no respite. The inner pain from such memories tortured this forgotten soul left here all alone.

Father Ignatius shared with this soul the deep desire to weep bitterly for its past mistakes and its present solitary ordeal. But this was not possible, for there are no tears in hell. No matter how strong the desire to cry in profound regret, and so gain some temporary relief, this was not possible in a state of void. So the pain, sorrow and sadness built up within one’s soul and consumed it eternally from within; with no respite whatsoever.

And what is worse, is that the soul’s constant feelings of regret were persistently underlined by another sensation.

For it knew with unshakable certainty of the existence of God.

This tormented soul had been given, on entering hell, undoubted and unquestionable proof that God indeed exists. And somehow, it had witnessed His immeasurable and overwhelming love for His creations.

Yet the soul also knew, without a doubt, that for an interminable eternity, it would be totally excluded from that Fatherly, Divine love.

Father Ignatius realized that hell consisted of complete isolation with ones thoughts and regrets, and the sure knowledge that there will never be an end in sight. No light at the end of the tunnel. For there is no tunnel.

A permanent state of inner pain and sorrow, coupled with the knowledge that God’s love is for ever out of reach.

“What a terrible state of despair and hopelessness” thought Father Ignatius, “to know for certain that God exists; and to know of His love for us; yet to be excluded from that perfect love for ever. To remain here, in a state of total void, filled with past memories and regrets for deeds long past. Alone, in permanent thoughts of total and infinite exclusion!”

Father Ignatius woke up suddenly from his turbulent dream.

It was then that he heard in his head, clear as a bell, the words: “Go and warn all you get to meet not to come to this place!”

A Ghostly Experience

Not many people believe in ghosts. I didn't either. Until one day I saw one. Yes, I saw a ghost and he spoke to me. I'll never forget the experience.

It happened years ago on a dark and wintry night in the depth of a mountainous region of Scotland. I was driving late at night after visiting some business customers up North and somehow I lost my way. It was the days before satellite navigation systems and cell-phones to help you communicate and get from one place to another. It was raining heavily with thunder and lightning brightening the skies for brief intervals and piercing the darkness of the road ahead. As usually happens in ghost stories and movies, my car eventually stopped having run out of gas. But this was for real. Not a movie script which I could put down and return to my reality sitting next to a warm fire with a hot chocolate drink in my hands. This was for real. My car stopped in the middle of nowhere on a cold rainy night with thunder and lightning for companionship. I swear I heard the howling of some wild creature in the distance.

What was I to do? I couldn't stay in the car all night and possibly freeze to death. Or be tinned food for whatever hungry creature is out there. I had no blanket in the car and I'd forgotten my overcoat at the office of the business I was visiting on behalf of my employer.

So there I was. All alone in a car with no means of communication. Cold. Hungry. Afraid. And I wanted to go to the toilet too. I should not have had that second cup of coffee they offered me. Coffee is quite diuretic, you know.

Stupidly perhaps, I decided to get out of the car and water a nearby tree. I could hold it no longer. Moments later I was back in the car totally wet and even colder than before because of the driving rain; but greatly relieved. After all, I had to do what I had to do and I could not do it from inside the car.

Now back in the car I was shivering and my teeth were chattering in tune with my racing heartbeat. My wet clothes stuck to the leather seat. My shoes and socks were soaking wet throughout. Because of the rain ... the rain ... are you paying attention? Please don't make up your own jokes at my misfortune.

Stupidly again, I decided to get out of the car and walk in any direction trying to find shelter. I locked the car and walked ahead in total darkness and driving rain, (or should I now say walking rain?). Every so often my solitude was broken by the occasional clap of thunder followed by a flash of lightning. (This was Scotland where thunder comes first because up North sound travels faster than light. Everyone knows that!)

Anyway, after walking for about half an hour there it was. Not a castle, as you'd expect in the Highlands. But a house. Admittedly a large house; again just like you'd expect in horror movies, big and dark with overhanging trees and climbing ivy everywhere. But not a castle.

I knocked at the door ... no bell. And eventually, after what seemed an eternity an old man opened the door.

He was wearing an eye patch. What I mean, he was wearing clothes, very old clothes, and he had an eye patch on. Did you really think he was wearing nothing else but an eye patch? I wish you'd pay more attention.

"Och aye ... It’s a dreich day! Aye right." he said in his native tongue. I didn't understand a word he said, so I asked him whether I could seek shelter for the night.

"Yer're drookit!" he said, "Aye ... come in ... come in ..."

I entered a dark room lit by a couple of candles. He beckoned me to sit by a small log fire to keep warm. As I sat there still shivering he walked away towards the wall and vanished through it. My blood ran cold. A shiver, ran down my spine ... that's a new shiver, not the one I was shivering with previously. I could have said a frisson, but I was in Scotland not France. So a shiver it was ... och aye!

I could not believe my eyes. The man had actually walked through a wall. Admittedly, it was dark, I was cold and freezing wet and quite hungry, but I assure you I was not hallucinating. I did not imagine it. The man just walked towards the wall and vanished through it. The experience made me want to go to the toilet once again; and this time it had nothing to do with the coffee. I must have cried in fear a little because I felt tears running down my leg.

Moments later he returned through the wall just as he had vanished. He stood there looking at me with one eye. The other eye was covered by an eye patch, remember.

My knees were knocking together in rhythm with my heart and chattering teeth. I had butterflies in my stomach and their knees were knocking too. Even my goose bumps had goose bumps of their own.

"Are you ... are you  ... a spirit?" I heard myself mumble.

"Yer mean ... be I a drop of whisky?" he muttered, "Of course not ... I be a ghost ... A ghost, laddie. I been here fer' years. Och aye! Trapped in this house of doom fer ever, laddie."

I gulped and asked "Are you the ghost of a pirate? I mean ... the eye patch ..." I continued pointing at his face.

"Och no ... laddie," he said, "this be no pirate's doing! I got this one day as I was sliding through a keyhole and someone put a key in it. Occupational hazard for us ghosts!"

I smiled and said nothing.

"Now I just walk right through walls and solid objects" he said in perfect English, "much safer what?"

I picked up a bottle of vintage whisky nearby and took a gulp to keep me warm.

They found me the next morning fast asleep with an empty bottle beside me.

If you don't believe ... leave ...

John Chapter 6 has been the source of much debate and confusion over the years ... and the arguments will still go on. No doubt to the amusement of Jesus looking down upon us and saying: "You of little Faith. Why can't you just believe and stop dissecting and analysing everything I said as if I were an insect in your lab!"

I speak of course of the part in that Chapter where Jesus says He is "the Bread of life" and later when He says that unless people eat His flesh or drink His blood they will not have life.

As you can imagine, this was very confusing to His listeners; even His followers and disciples.

"What is He on about?" they asked. "How can we eat His flesh and drink His blood? This is cannibalism surely. This is too much for us. We don't want to follow this guy any longer!"

So what did Jesus do?

He didn't say "Hey ... wait a minute. You didn't understand what I meant. This is what I really meant to say ... let me explain!"

No ... Jesus let them go. He didn't try to justify Himself or what He had just said. It was as if He dissolved the unspoken contract between them. They could not accept a certain clause so He let them go.

Then He turned to His disciples and asked: "How about you? Do you want to go as well?"

As ever, Peter was first to answer: "To whom shall we go?" he asked. "We're in this for the duration, all the way, to the end". Or words to that effect, signifying the he trusted Jesus without question; albeit no doubt he had many questions in his mind. Peter accepted Christ's words without question and stepped out in blind Faith and dared to believe.

So what are we to make of all this after all these years? Did Jesus mean what He said literally or was it all symbolism and imagery using common day articles of the time like bread and wine to signify the sacrifice He is to endure for us? His flesh would be torn by the beating and the nailing to the Cross and His blood would be spilled for us. Was it all symbolism?

Quite frankly, I'm with Peter on this.

I don't believe there is much to be gained in debating this ad-infinitum because in reality I doubt any of us will ever come to a satisfactory conclusion. Wiser heads than mine have argued this matter over the centuries much to the amusement of Jesus looking down from above. Any efforts by me at interpreting this would no doubt have Jesus rolling on the floor with laughter.

So I am minded to accept it for what it is. Something that Jesus said and we're to believe it as best we humanly can.

There's no point in closing your eyes tightly and repeating over and over again "I believe ... I believe ... even though I don't understand it ... I believe".

God who can see deep within our hearts, and knows our human nature and its failings, realises that it is too difficult for us to understand.

But then, He does not ask us to understand Him. He asks us to love Him and to trust Him without any evidence whatsoever.

It's what is called Faith.

To believe when your common sense tells you not to.

By the way: you may wish to visit this link and see what happened to a priest who had difficulties in believing. Click HERE.

God bless.

History - Cleopatra and the Romans

Cleopatra was a beautiful Queen or Pharaoe of Egypt who ruled until around 30 BC. At the time the Roman Empire was large and strong and was ruled by Julius Caesar. She got to meet him and after a few dinners and coffee they became great friends. Enough said.

After Julius Caesar was assassinated in 44 BC the Roman Empire was ruled by three triumvirates, which means three rulers. These are different to the rulers you get in class or at home to measure things with and they are not made of wood or plastic.

These three rulers were strong generals and leaders of the Romans. They were Mark Antony, Lepidus and Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus the legal heir of Julius Caesar. This is heir like successor and has nothing to do with what grows on peoples' heads and on their bodies. It has nothing to do with rabbits running wild either.

Now there was a bald ruler in Mesopotamia who was distressed that although he was very rich he had no children to inherit. One day he cried out loud "Why is it that despite my riches I have no heir?" Someone bought him a wig which inherited the whole kingdom after his death. Eventually, the people got fed up being ruled by a wig so they deposed him (or it) and were ruled by a ruler instead - that's a real ruler, not one made of plastic or wood used for measuring things. But I've already said so, and you were not paying attention!

Back to Cleopatra and the three triumvirates - Mark Antony, Lepidus and Julius Caesar.

Although each of them ruled a part of the Empire in reality they were rivals and each wanted to be the top man ruling alone.

One day Caesar held a big party on his ship out at sea and had invited Mark Antony and Lepidus. As happens at parties, after a few vinos Mark Antony and Lepidus got rather drunk and no doubt started singing "O Sole Mio"; a well known Roman song at the time which was Number 1 in the POP music charts for weeks on end. This particular song had been made famous by a protégé of Julius Caesar, the singer Maximilius Tonsilitis the Fifth, also known as MTV.

Anyway, one of Caesar's helpers whispered in his ear: "Both of your rivals are drunk. If we were to throw them overboard by accident like, you'd be left to rule the Empire alone."

After cleaning his ear from the man's spit Caesar replied: "If you had done this without telling me, I would have rewarded you greatly afterwards. But now you told me, I cannot sanction such an act."

Which goes to show that opportunity spits in your ear every now and then; and if you fail to take it you just end up with the spit.

So from then on, Cleopatra sided with Mark Antony instead of the rightful heir Caesar.

Their first meeting was in Egypt when Cleopatra sailed down the Nile in her royal barge and Mark Antony was on the shore and was astounded by her great beauty. His knees trembled at the sight.

Antony's lieutenant Enobarbus, once described Cleopatra's charms by saying: "Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies."

Which loosely translated means she's for ever young with no wrinkles except the one she sits on.

Historians believe that the reason Cleopatra had such smooth skin is because she bathed in asses milk. I tried doing the same to help my complexion but the supermarket did not have asses milk. They had buffalo milk, goat milk, chocolate and strawberry flavored milk; but they'd just ran out of asses milk. Try bathing in chocolate milkshake and see what happens!

Well, as I said, Mark Antony felt his knees tremble at the sight of Cleopatra and invited her out for coffee. One  thing led to another and enough said about that too. They had smiles on their faces for ever after.

One day after a heavy defeat in battle, Mark Antony committed suicide.

Cleopatra was so distraught by it all that she put an asp to her breast. An asp ... not an ass or a donkey which is altogether a different creature too heavy to lift to one's breast.

An asp is another word for snake. Why did the snake not bite her hand and waited until he was at her breast, we'll never know. Maybe it was an amourous snake with trembling knees too. Enough said once again.

And sadly, that's how Cleopatra died.

Years later Shakespeare wrote a play about it all and then a film was made with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. I had to study the Shakespeare version at school and memorise many lines; why I'll never know. They've never served me in life until now that I have to give these History Lessons.

A banana stole my bicycle

In town there is a pedestrianised street to allow people to shop and sight-see away from any vehicles and cycles. There are bollards at either end of the street to stop any vehicles from entering and signs asking cyclists to dismount whilst going through.

I leant my bicycle against one of those bollards and walked six feet or so towards the newspaper kiosk to buy a paper.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a banana appeared, rode my bike and cycled at speed up the pedestrianised street.

I chased after it to the shouts of the paper vendor screaming: "Hey ... come back ... you haven't paid for your paper!"

The vendor's assistant got out of the kiosk and chased after me.

There we were ... banana on a bicycle chased by me being chased by the paper assistant. At one stage I believe a small dog got away from its owner and chased after us too barking like mad.

The shoppers moved aside like the parting of the Red Sea for Moses and let us run down the middle of the street. What a sight it was ... chasing a banana on a bicycle!

I suspect the public thought it was some "flash mob" type stunt; so they stopped to see what would happen next. At the time I was wearing my usual green cowboy hat with a feather on the side, turquoise shirt and red tartan trousers. I heard someone say: "It's a Candid Camera stunt! Look how this idiot is dressed!"

I could have stopped and took umbrage at being called an idiot; but my desire to recover my bicycle exceeded my taking offence at the insult. So I kept running as fast as my little legs and rotund figure could manage.

I nearly caught up with the cycling banana and at one stage almost caught him ... her ... it ... What gender is a banana anyway? But it was too slippery and gave me the slip.

Eventually I ran out of stamina or energy or whatever it is people run out of when they can run no more. I stopped; huffing and puffing and struggling for breath.

The paper boy caught up with me and started arguing. A policeman appeared out of nowhere. I tried to explain that a banana stole my bicycle. The policeman asked me if I'd been drinking and why I was dressed as a clown. The paper boy accused me of stealing a newspaper, which technically was correct, although there were proper extenuating circumstances.

As we were all talking at the same time and no one was listening there was a voice over a loudspeaker booming "Cut ... cut ..."

We looked round and there was a small crowd of people with cameras, lights, microphones and all the paraphernalia used when shooting a film. The public watching all this suddenly started applauding and whistling their appreciation.

Apparently, some film crew were making a short TV commercial for a new fruit shop which opens shortly in town. The banana man was meant to pick up a bike from the bollard point and cycle up the street to introduce the advert. He inadvertently took my cycle by mistake, and my chasing after him ruined the whole shoot.

I paid the paper boy and got my bicycle back.

The icing on the un-wanted cake was when a small group of people asked me for my autograph thinking I was part of the whole ridiculous show.

Forgiveness YES Reconciliation NO

“Father … I have a problem with forgiving” said Sonia as she folded the last of the vestments and put them away in their cupboard in the Sacristy.

Father Ignatius was checking some paper work at a small desk in the corner of the large room. There was a tray there and parishioners were invited to place their messages, notices and sundry bits and pieces of information intended for the weekly Church Newsletter. The priest was reading through them in preparation for printing the Newsletter that evening. He stopped what he was doing and asked:

“What do you mean? A problem with forgiving …”

Sonia hesitated.

“I know you’ve always said we should forgive with all our heart … unreservedly … if we want God to forgive us our sins. I understand that … and I try as best I can to forgive wholeheartedly …”

“I can foretell a ‘but’ coming up …” smiled the priest, “but in this case …”

She smiled back.

“But in this case it is different …” she continued.

“There’s this woman at work who has hurt me really bad. She lied about me Father. And as a result I was severely reprimanded by our manager and I was made to lose a day’s pay … which I cannot afford.

“We used to be friends and all … but she lied to cover up her mistake and I got unfairly punished. This happened about two weeks ago.”

“This is terrible,” said Father Ignatius frowning at the unfairness of what he’d just heard. “Is there not some sort of appeal procedure at your workplace? Someone to talk to about it perhaps."

“No … that’s not the problem Father.” Sonia said.

“The thing is, this woman came to see me yesterday and apologized profusely for what she had done. She cried her heart out and said she could not have been found out to have made yet another mistake. She was on her last warning and another mistake would mean losing her job. That’s why she lied and put the blame on me. She begged me to forgive her … which I did straightaway Father. I told her to think no more about it and that all was now OK.”

“That’s very generous and loving of you … so what is the problem?” asked the priest.

“She wants us to be friends again, as before. We used to visit each other at our homes … and we’d shop together, or pick up each others’ children from school and so on … she wants everything to be as before.

“I find that very difficult … I just can’t trust her anymore and I want us to keep our distance. I forgive her as I said; but I can’t go back as before. My husband agrees and says I should no longer speak to her. I think I can speak and be nice to her at work but that’s as far as it goes; I can’t be friends again.

“Is my forgiveness worthless?”

“No … it is not worthless,” replied Father Ignatius gently, “when we forgive someone else, we touch their very soul with the merciful love of Jesus Christ our Lord.

“You’ve been hurt Sonia … hurt and punished unfairly and undeservedly.

“When we forgive people it means that we no longer hold their wrongdoings to account. We no longer bear them any malice or ill-feelings or ill-will.

“We acknowledge that we forgive them and we let them go their own way free from any fear of punishment or retribution on our part.

“This doesn’t mean however that we forget the pain caused to us. How can we? The hurt is imprinted in our memory and try as we might the chances are that we’ll remember it time and again. It’s only natural … it’s human nature. You forgave her and told her so …”

Sonia nodded; holding back her tears.

“And that’s all that is expected of you …” continued the priest gently, noticing that she was very upset at the mere thought of the event.

“We all have a right … a duty even … to protect ourselves and to protect our loved ones …

“If we feel uncomfortable about a particular situation or relationship, we have every right to distance ourselves from it.

“For very understandable reasons you feel uncomfortable at being friendly with this person as you were before; visiting each other and picking each others’ children from school and so on.

“There’s nothing wrong with that … tell her politely that you’ve forgiven her and that you feel both of you should leave it at that. An amicable relationship from a distance …”

“But …” Sonia interrupted, “how can that be forgiveness? By keeping my distance implies that I’m still holding something against her. She knows that … you and I know that … and God knows that …”

Father Ignatius smiled.

“Oh yes … God knows that all right … and He knows the reason behind it too …” he said.

“Let me tell you a story …

“Jesus once taught His disciples and His followers about Himself.

“He said, ‘whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me, and I live in him’

“A number of His followers found this difficult to understand. What does He mean … eat His flesh and drink His blood … Many today, find this very concept difficult to understand; so you can imagine how it was in those times.

“So a number of Christ’s followers decided to leave and no longer follow Him.

“What did Jesus do?

“He didn’t call them back. He didn’t say, ‘Wait, let me explain … this is what I meant to say …’ He didn’t compromise His position in any way …

“He just let them go … and He even asked His twelve disciples, ‘How about you … do you want to go as well?’

“You see Sonia … Jesus forgave them and let them go … He didn’t curse them and send plagues and pestilence on them and their families for generations …”

She smiled again feeling a little calmer.

“He just forgave them and let them go …

“Which is what you should also do …” said Father Ignatius serenely.

ADDITIONAL REFLECTIONS

Often we tend to confuse the real meaning of forgiveness.

Let us remember that we are humans. We can't help it ... that's the way we are, the way God made us, with a multitude of various emotions, fears, hopes and ways of interpreting many situations in our lives. We're complex creatures. He had His reasons to create us this way.

Being human, one of our first instincts is to protect ourselves and the ones we love. Another feature of our humanity is the ability to remember ... the good times, but more specifically the bad times.

The worse the bad times, the more terrible they've been, the more they are imprinted in our memories.

Anything can and will trigger these memories again ... visiting a place, seeing a photo, hearing a particular song ... anything ... and the bad memories come flooding back again. That's the price we pay for being human.

Christ said: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who hurt us."

Thank God that He does not hold us to the strict letter of this particular contract; otherwise we'd all be taking the fastest elevator going down!

Yet ... He does hold us to the intent of that particular contract we recite in the Lord's Prayer.

He asks us to forgive ... that's the important thing. Not just seven times but seventy times seven … and many times more than that as well.

Forgiving someone means that we no longer hold a grudge, or any ill-will or ill-feelings towards them or the hurt they have caused us. We let them go in peace free of fear of any revenge or retribution on our part.

This applies whether we tell them that they are forgiven, or whether they have moved away, or perhaps never asked or sought our forgiveness, and perhaps they don’t even care about our feelings.

What matters is that in our hearts we have truly forgiven them; and, here’s the difficult bit, … we can prove it to God should He ask us to.

Of course the memories will come back … we can’t help that. But let’s use them positively by forgiving once again. Let’ us use them as a reminder to pray for the ones who hurt us. Let us say to God : “Please look after that person. Enlighten them and lead them to find your love as I have found it too.”

Would it not be wonderful if as a result of our hurt … and our prayers … someone finds God, perhaps for the first time.

Christ has His memories too when He sees the scars in His hands, feet and side. I believe He uses these memories to forgive us yet again.

I doubt very much that the Virgin Mary has forgotten the Crucifiction. But she forgives again and again.

Having truly forgiven, it is our right and duty to keep our distance from that person if we feel they create a threat to us or our loved ones. Keeping our distance is NOT a sin, and it does not mean that we haven’t forgiven or that our forgiveness is worthless.

Being human we can only forgive as humans. We cannot possibly forgive as He has forgiven, no matter how hard we try.

He was human, but He was/is God too … and that’s a level of forgiveness we can never achieve.

We can only hope to live by the intent of that particular contract in the Lord’s Prayer.

God bless.