ARSONIST AT LARGE

BREAKING NEWS

LONG-HAIRED ARSONIST SETS FOXES ON FIRE

It's in the Bible.

Samson went and caught three hundred foxes.

Two by two,

he tied their tails together

and put torches in the knots.

Then he set fire to the torches

and turned the foxes loose

in the Philistine cornfields.

He burnt not only the corn harvested

but also that in the fields,

and the olive orchards as well.

 JUDGES 15:4-5.

This is terrible behaviour.
Someone should report him to the Animal Protection people.
Not only is Samson cruel to animals
but he is an arsonist too.

He destroyed corn fields and olive orchards.
No wonder olives are so expensive in the shops.

And I like corn dogs too!!!  

Abraham in Genesis

Some time later God tested Abraham and said to him, “Abraham!” “Here I am,” he answered. "Take your son," God said, "your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. Offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will show you." So Abraham got up early the next morning, saddled his donkey, and took along two of his servants and his son Isaac. He split wood for a burnt offering and set out for the place God had designated. (Genesis 22:1)

I have never understood this Bible story. I am sure you know it. God asked Abraham to offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice. Just as Abraham lifted his hand with a knife ready to kill his son, an Angel stopped him. Abraham had proved he would obey his God.

If this story happened in modern times the police and social services would soon be knocking at Abraham's door. Abraham would be prosecuted and most probably pronounced insane and would spend the rest of his life in a mental home. Poor Isaac would never recover from the traumatic experience and would sleep with one eye open from thereon.

What I cannot understand is why would God go to such dramatic lengths to test Abraham's love and obedience? If God is all-knowing, surely He would know that Abraham loved Him and would obey. Did God not think of the traumatic effect this episode would have on Isaac?

When I go through difficult times, (often), I ask the Lord, "Why are you testing me so if you already know how I would react?"

He never responds; and I often go through the bad times, and, perhaps, I learn something from the experience.

However, the Abraham story, and my experiences, beg some questions to which I would like your opinions.

Does God test us every now and then?

Why? He already knows how we would react.

What possible purpose would our being tested have as part of God's plan?

Now read this bit from St Paul’s letter to the Corinthians a couple of times.

“Every test that you have experienced is the kind that normally comes to people. But God keeps His promise, and He will not allow you to be tested beyond your power to remain firm; at the time you are put to the test, He will give you the strength to endure it, and so provide you with a way out”. 
(1 Corinthians Chapter 10 Verse 13).

Let’s face it – God is not in the business of losing His followers. Those devoted to Him. It does not further His cause one bit if His own followers are so tested by the world’s evils that they loose their Faith in Him. This is contrary to His love for us. He will not allow us to just perish.

So why do you think we are sometimes tested?

Over to you ... ... ...    

Romance

It is amazing the number of TV programs these days about meeting a partner and match-making. In all of them, it seems, the individuals featured are looking for a quick solution to an age old problem. They all want to find the perfect partner who will love them and cherish them and be by their side for ever more - and they all want to find him or her quickly. Instantly. No waiting.

In almost all cases the individuals searching for their knight in shining armour, or their beautiful princess, seem to focus their desires on physical features mostly. They all want their partners to be handsome or beautiful, smart, wonderful, kind, with a sense of humour, and all the other superlatives one can think of. And there's very little attention paid to shared values, education, aspirations or the like. All they seem to need is an instant physical attraction and hey presto we have romance; now let's jump into bed.

In their search for instancy they forget that their interpretation of romance, if such it is, wanes and often gets tired as time goes by. What is important is true love, affection and respect for one another; caring for one another; companionship and friendship.

But what is romance exactly, or intimacy; which is a more delicate way of putting it.

Romance should be cultivated, like a delicate flower. The mood should be right. The moment should be right. How can one be "romantic" when your wife puts all sorts of creams on her face and has her hair in curlers before going to bed? The sight of a creamed-up face with cucumber slices for eyes is enough to make any man's heart miss a beat - and for all the wrong reasons.

How can you have "romance" when your girl is lying on the bed and as you're about to kiss her, she looks up at you and says: "The ceiling needs painting again!"

The time for "romance" should be right. No point in her fluttering her eyes alluringly and wants to be friendly just as the football is starting on TV? Don't you ladies realise the importance of sport in a man's life?

And don't believe everything you read. It said in a magazine article that "romance" is more exciting when spontaneous and unexpected. Well, that's another supermarket I've been thrown out of !!!

Some men complain that their partners suddenly appear in the bedroom all alluring in a new sexy negligent, (that's a negligee made in Britain), without giving them enough time to focus their  imagination as to whom they're romancing.

Men, on the other hand, are more understanding and more sensitive when it comes to matters of "romance". 

We know full well that you ladies want flowers or chocolates as prize tokens of our esteem. Fortunately these days, many a gas filling station has these items available at the check-out as you pay for your petrol. 

But let's be honest here, ladies. We men just cannot understand why you need all this constant re-assurance and repetition of our affection for you? Isn't it obvious that we love you? We said so when we got married.

I remember years ago I said to my future father-in-law that I wanted to marry his daughter. He said: "Have you seen her mother?"

I replied: "Yes. But I still prefer to marry your daughter!"

We men don't go for this constant repetition and re-assurance of our affection. For us men, it goes without saying, or repeating. We said we loved you once, years ago, and that should suffice. After all, one would not thank a kettle, or a toaster, or a fridge every day for being there, does one?

Reality Check

What is reality? I asked myself the other day as I sat out in the garden. I had to ask myself, because there was no one else there to ask.

What I mean, and what I also meant when I asked myself that question, and got no answer; (albeit, I might add, the dog barked for no apparent reason). He always does that when I sit quietly talking to myself. I don't know why.

Anyway, what I meant by the question, if you can still remember that far, is that, what is reality to us, might not be so to other people in the past. Something can be real to us, but not to others.

Let me explain.

Take my great great great grand-parents for instance. If you can find them that is.

If you told them that you could be sitting at home, writing on your computer, and someone else many miles away could be receiving your e-mail within seconds and respond to it whilst you're enjoying your cappuccino coffee. They would not understand about the internet, e-mails, texts, tweets, and so on. They would most probably ask, "What's a cappuccino?" Because they didn't have that in their time. It may be reality to us, but not to them.

Take another example. The other day my wife was looking through a ladies' magazine and she came across a lovely brown winter coat. She looked at me and said, "I'd like that!" So I cut the picture out and gave it to her. It was not reality to her ... but the consequences of my action were a reality to me.

So you see, reality is how you perceive it to be.

It's like looking at a mirage which is not there. Which, when you think about it, in reality it is not there. Because that's what a mirage means: a hallucination, a vision, an illusion. If it was there for real then it would not be a mirage, would it?

Is a marriage a mirage? Or is it real? If it is real then why does my predictive text type marriage when I mean mirage? Come to think of it, many couples lead a mirage type of marriage. They pretend to love each other but in reality they only stay married for many other reasons: the children, their religious beliefs, the cost and heart-ache of divorce, or just because they are plain lazy to do anything else.

And here's another example of reality not being real. The other day I met a friend I had not seen for ages. When he was young he was a boy. Then when he grew up he had a beard and he became an accountant.

I'm not sure if the incidents are related or not. So which one of these instances is real? My friend being a young boy? Growing up and having a beard? Or being an accountant? Which leads to the question: can someone be an accountant and not have a beard?

Anyway, when I met him the other day he was clean-shaven and no longer an accountant. He became an undertaker. He was so popular that people are dying to meet him. They always signed letters to him; "Eventually yours ..."

I said to him, "If you had a moustache you'd look exactly like my mother-in-law!"

He replied, "I do not have a moustache!"

I said, "But my mother-in-law has."

The moustache was a reality, but it was on the wrong person.

This friend of mine is very rich now. Obviously either accounting or undertaking has suited him well as a career. He has a house with a cinema in it. The problem is that when there's a bad film on he has to leave his own home.

And that's what reality is. It is what it is perceived to be.

I am sitting here writing this article on the Internet. But how do I know that you out there reading it are real?

Are you a reality? Are you ordinary or extra-ordinary people in your own homes in far flung places reading my daily writings? Or not?
 
What if you are a figment of my imagination? What if I am a figment of your imagination? What if we are all a figment of each others' imagination and none of us really exist?

If so, then who is writing this? And how do you know that it has been written and it is not a figment of yours and my imagination?

René Descartes said, "Cogito ergo sum".

He then translated it into "je pense, donc je suis" which as you know means, "I think, therefore I am!" This does not prove that he is not a figment of his own imagination.

Which leads to the question; Who is René Descartes anyway? Did he have a beard? Was he an accountant or an undertaker?

So - What is reality?

Does this prove that I am? Does it prove that I exist? 

Maybe I just thought, or imagined that I thought, what reality is? 

And maybe I don't really exist; but the thought that I thought it does exist. Perhaps we are all just a passing thought in someone's mind.

Hein? Have you thought about that? 

Share your views in the comments box below. 

That is if you truly exist.

Sharing Poverty

Father Frederic from Bishop’s House was due to visit St Vincent Church later in the day. He was sent by the Bishop to discuss church funds at St Vincent, or more precisely, why the church’s contribution to the Bishop’s Fund has decreased over the past year.

Father Ignatius knew all too well why his contribution to the Bishop’s Fund had decreased. They were in the middle of a severe recession. This particular town had been hit harder than most with business closures, bankruptcies and redundancies. Most of his parishioners were poor and looking for work. The Sunday collection had been getting less and less every week.

“But try telling that to a young priest fresh from College!” thought Father Ignatius.

Father Frederic had graduated as an accountant before becoming a priest; and the Bishop knew too well how to use his talents with figures.

He sent him round to all Parishes to “help improve their finances” and to encourage them to increase their annual contributions to the Bishop’s Fund.

Early on the day that Father Frederic was due to visit, Father Ignatius got in his office and waited for the Parish Treasurer to arrive.

“Have you got the map?” the priest asked Kim, the volunteer treasurer, as she entered the room.

She nodded as she unfolded a large map of the town which she pinned on a large board the priest had acquired for the purpose.

Father Ignatius pulled out four boxes of pins from his desk drawer; some with red colored heads, some blue, some green and some yellow.

He consulted the Parish Records and placed various pins on the map. Kim sat in the armchair silently until he finished. She was about to ask a question when Father Frederic was brought in by Mrs Davenport, the housekeeper.

After the introductions and coffee had been served, Father Frederic looked at the map with all the colored pins and said, “That’s impressive Ignatius. What do these pins represent?”

“Oh well … you see …” mumbled Father Ignatius politely, “Kim and I were analyzing the breakdown of our parishioners’ propensity to consume according to income just as you came in … and from that we could deduce their ability to contribute to church funds …”

Kim raised an eyebrow, not understanding a word Father Ignatius had said.

Father Frederic nodded knowledgeably and said, “That’s very useful … we could use such a system in other Parishes. Show me how it works …”

“Ehm … well, this is a map of the whole town and surrounding countryside,” explained Father Ignatius.

“These red pins all over here represent parishioners who are either out of work, or in very poorly paid jobs … you see how they’re all in the poorer inner city areas where business closures have been particularly prevalent! Sadly, they form the majority of our parishioners, and although many of them do contribute generously to the Sunday collections and other appeals there’s a limit to how much they can donate!”

“Quite so …” said the young priest, “what about the blue pins?”

“Well … they’re middle income families. Office managers, shopkeepers, factory supervisors … that sort of thing … we have a few of those in the Parish and they contribute to the church and the local Catholic schools were they send their children. There’s a limit to how much we can ask of them since they would reduce their donations to the schools to increase ours. Can’t serve two masters you understand …”

“Indeed … yes indeed …” agreed Father Frederic.

Encouraged by his visitor’s enthusiasm Father Ignatius went on.

“Now these green pins … they represent the countryside. You’ll note there’s much fewer of them and they’re all out of town. They are Catholic farmers in the main who not only donate generously financially but also in kind. Many of them donate food and produce from their farms, which is distributed by the St Vincent Society amongst poor parishioners.”

“That’s admirable Ignatius … admirable” nodded Father Frederic.

“And as you may have guessed Father,” Father Ignatius continued, “the yellow pins represent those parishioners who are helped by the church. They are recipients of our generosity rather than contributors.

“Now … would you like to see our weekly accounts of Sunday collections, and how the money is used? Kim here has prepared all the books for you to examine.”

“No that is not necessary …” said Father Frederic, “I’m in a bit of a hurry and have to visit another Parish. This is splendid Ignatius. I’ll explain to the Bishop and he’ll be most impressed ….”

After the visiting priest had left Kim spoke for the first time.

“This map Father,” she said, “and all those pins … does every pin represent a parishioner in St Vincent?”

“Of course not …” replied Father Ignatius with a smile, “I couldn’t possibly remember every parishioner and their personal circumstances and pin them on the board just a few minutes before he arrived …

“I just put a few red pins in the poor area of town. And a few green ones in the countryside … and the others I spattered here and there …

“I’ve met these young enthusiastic priests before, eager to impress the Bishop. Just show them a map with a few colored pins and they’re most impressed at your efficiency and grasp of the situation.

“Strictly speaking, what I said is correct. We have more poor people in this Parish than those able to contribute to our funds.

“If I’d said that, Father Frederic would have asked more questions and wanted more details. But show him a few colored pins on a board and he’s as happy as a child with a new toy!

“I’m far too busy looking after my parishioners, and I prefer to help them in their difficult lives rather than squeeze a few more pennies out of them.”

Father Ignatius paused for a moment or two as he took off all the pins and returned the map to Kim.

“I wonder if our Lord had a board and pins when He helped the poor and the sick …” he asked.

Guess who's in Heaven?

Johnny said to Father Ignatius, “Father, I had a funny dream the other day!”

“I could do with a good laugh,” replied the priest, “tell me about it.”

“Father, I dreamt I was in Heaven and Graham, my worst enemy, was there too!”

“What’s so funny about that?” asked the priest.

“Father, you don’t understand,” continued Johnny, “Graham is an evil conniving cheat who’d sell his own mother if he could make a fast buck! He’s the last person I’d expect to see in Heaven.”

“Well, let’s assume this is not a dream,” continued Father Ignatius as the two men walked round the church grounds, “Let’s say it’s for real.

“You died and went to Heaven, and there, sitting on a cloud playing the harp is your old nemesis, Graham.

“What do you feel about it?”

“As I said,” protested Johnny, “the man is evil. I’d probably warn St Peter in case Graham cheats him out of his catch of fish!”

Father Ignatius smiled. “Would you think that God made a mistake in letting him in?” he asked.

Johnny hesitated and did not answer.

“Do you remember the parable about the rich man who had a vineyard?” asked the priest. “The rich man hired some people early in the day to work in the field. Then again he hired more people a bit later on. And again in the afternoon, and also one hour before the end of the working day.

“The rich man in this parable represents God and the vineyard is Heaven. God is the only one who decides who is to enter Heaven.

“We have no say in the matter. Although we often pretend to know more than we actually do. You’d be surprised how many people there are ready to serve God in an advisory capacity.

“The different times of the day represent when certain people get to know God and to follow His word.

“Some people do so early in their lives and get to love Him and obey Him throughout their lives. Others get to know God later in their lives; and some only get to know God at the end of their lives just before dying.

“Of course, the temptation is there to ask why should I be good all my life when I can suddenly say sorry and accept God at the end. But there is no guarantee that this will happen is there? And God knows whether a final acceptance and repentance is genuine or not. Or just an insurance policy cashed in at the last minute to avoid the other place.”

“Does it matter?” interrupted Johnny, “Does it matter if the final repentance is genuine and the individual is truly sorry for what he has done, or whether it is a final act of despair to avoid going to hell?”

“Good point,” replied the priest wisely, “but one best left for God to decide since He owns the vineyard and we have no say in the matter.

“The fact remains, that when you see Graham in Heaven you should rejoice that at some stage in his life he found God and was deemed worthy by the Almighty to enter Paradise.

“As for you, who has been called to work in the vineyard early in your life, your job here on earth is to be an example to others so that they may see in you something worth following, worth knowing and worth loving. As a good Christian, you should be the recruitment officer for God and lead others to Him”.

Someone is missing in Heaven

Imagine you've died and gone to Heaven.

Joy of joys !!! At last, you've made it. God has seen it fit for you to deserve Heaven. An eternity with Him. You are so glad, more than you've ever been your entire life.

You look around and meet old friends and relatives who have made it here too. You greet them with a tear in your eye - a tear of joy as well as a little sadness when you remember how you missed them and cried when they were gone!

You renew old acquaintances as well as make new ones as you meet the Saints you've read so much about but had never met. 

Then you realise someone is missing. 

A relative, or friend, whom you'd expected to see here is missing. You ask St Peter and he confirms your suspicion. That person is not here.

Is he in transit? In the Purification Center we call Purgatory, perhaps?

No ... he is ... in the other place.

Your joy turns to sadness, confusion, despair even. How can it be? You so expected to be with that person in Heaven for eternity.

What do you do?

Seek an explanation from God? Perhaps there's been a mistake! Ask Him to re-consider. Plead with Him even? Beg that this person is brought up to Heaven?

Has that person's absence tarnished your joy of being in Heaven? Changed your view of God's justice and mercy?

How can you possibly be here in Heaven for ever, knowing full well that a dear loved one is in the other place and will never join you?
 

On the Cross Jesus forgave those who dared to inflict so much suffering and death to the Son of God. What more heinous sin could your relative or friend have committed to deserve an eternity in hell? If God forgave those who killed His Son; and they probably didn't ask for forgiveness, why can't He forgive your relative or friend missing right now?

Your human sense of justice; and your understanding and perspective of forgiveness and mercy would like things to be different and, no matter what that person has done in life, you wish him here with you in Heaven.

But God does not work like that. His perspective is not a human perspective. He decided otherwise.

In Luke 16:19-31 we read that the rich man in "the other place" pleaded that his brothers may not join him there. But his pleadings were met with the response that each person makes his or her own decisions in life, and by their actions they choose whether to go to Heaven or not.

No one goes to hell by mistake. We choose to go there. And many, by their actions, are sleep-walking their way to hell.

The time for action and prayers is now.

And yet ... what if we're one day in Heaven and our loved one is not there? What then?

The Romans

THE ROMANS

History can be a dull subject to learn and teach depending of course on who’s doing the learning and the teaching.

As a child I once talked in class and the teacher threw a piece of chalk at me. He then said: That’ll teach you to talk in class!

And as it happened a long time ago it is history; so I learnt then a history lesson which I remembered to this day.

If you pay attention; you’ll learn a bit more history in the next few minutes or so.

Let’s go back to Roman times. When men were tough and strong and women told them what to do. Women always had the ability to make men obey their wishes by hiding the remote control even then. But I digress.

In ancient Roman times there were a lot of sculptures of Roman emperors and famous people; these were usually sculptures of their heads and busts and faces, although you could also get sculptures of the whole person if you were rich enough to have one done.

The history behind all these sculptures is quite fascinating I must say.

You see, in Roman times there were a number of check-points by the Roman guards along the Appian Way. That’s the strategic main road connecting Rome to Brindisi and Apulia. The road was named after the Roman censor Appius Claudius Caecus.

He it was who held a census in the year something or other AD, and having discovered that most Romans did not like broccoli was frightened out of his census.  

Anyway, the Roman Centurion guards along the Appian Way always stopped all chariots and checked that the drivers had a driving license.

Unfortunately, as cameras had not been invented at the time, all owners of chariots, such as emperors, senators and the like, carried a sculpture of their heads or faces with them as a form of Roman Identity Card.

That’s why there are only Roman sculptures of famous people and not the peasants and plebs.

As I said, some Romans were rich enough to carry a sculpture of their whole body with them in their chariots rather than just the head or face. Unfortunately the statues were so heavy that they often broke the chariots and fell to the ground.

This happened to a Roman lady called Venus whose statue fell off the chariot and the arms got broken. Historians have still to work out why she was not wearing any clothes when her sculpture was made; and exactly where her arms were when she posed for the stonemason.

When asked by Venus’ angry husband whether she had posed in the nude for him, the stonemason tried to deny it and said that he did the statue from memory. This didn't help his case and the husband punched him on the nose.

History also teaches us that ancient Romans collected urine. By that I don’t mean that they resisted going to the toilet and walked around cross-legged. I also don’t mean that they collected it like you or I would collect stamps, or books or whatever else people collect as a hobby.

No … they collected urine in large tubs left around in the street. People would walk by and when nature called they deposited their half-pint in the tub – there in public!!!

The collected deposits were then used in washing all those white togas. Apparently the ammonia in the urine acted like a bleaching agent and turned the togas extra clean and white.

And when all the senators met and debated in the senate and some jeered at one of them making a controversial speech by shouting “You stink!” – they meant it quite literally as well as referring to his speech.

And whilst we're on this subject ... what subject? 

Keep quiet and pay attention!

I want to mention another person born in Italy who was a famous Greek mathematician, physicist, engineer, inventor, astronomer and all round big head know-it-all.

His name was Archimedes and although he was a Greek he was born in Syracuse in Southern Italy. No doubt his mother was on vacation there at the time; but the least said about it the better!

Anyway, one day this Archimedes fellow was asked by King Hiero II to find out whether a crown he had made was pure gold or whether it contained silver; which is cheaper.

Archimedes thought hard about this problem, especially since he was not allowed to break or damage the crown in any way. 

One night as he got home tired he decided to have a bath. Now in those days they didn't have baths like we do today with running water and drainage. All they had was a metal tub which they placed in the middle of the living room and sat in it washing themselves and watching TV.

As TV had not yet been invented they normally put a statue in the corner of the room and watched that instead. 

Anyway, as Archimedes entered his house pondering about the crown dilemma he discovered the tub there in the living room with water already in it. He was so tired that he gladly took off his clothes and jumped in the water thus displacing some of the volume therein.

Unbeknown to Archimedes, his wife had filled the tub with sea water and put a few crabs there to keep them fresh until lunch.

Archimedes jumped out of the tub and ran in the street naked shouting "Eureka" which in Greek means "I've found it". However, he also added a few other choice words in his native language which loosely translated mean "Who is the **** who put crabs in my bath? My manhood will never be the same again!"

Later on, as he calmed down a little and nearly got arrested for indecent exposure, he realised that as a body, (his and the crabs), is placed in a tub of water it/they displace an equal amount of water as the volume of said bodies. That didn't mean much to him; so he Googled his crown problem and solved the mystery of how to ascertain whether it was pure gold or not. He could of course have checked for any Hallmarks as we do now and save himself all the trouble of an encounter with a dozen crabs.

This concludes our history lesson for now. I hope you’ll remember what you’ve learnt here today.

Distant God

It was Good Friday, about nine in the evening, as Father Ignatius settled down in his armchair by the fire. It was still cold for this time of year and snowing yet again. He put a couple of logs on the open fire and picked up a book to read.

Moments later Mrs Davenport, the housekeeper, entered the large living room and announced that Geoff Henderson had just called in and was waiting in the reception room.

“Oh let him in …” said Father Ignatius standing up to greet his visitor.

Geoff Henderson was an architect and he had brought with him some plans to discuss some alterations to the Parish Hall and the area behind the garage. After their discussions were over the priest said:

“How are you these days Geoff? I haven’t seen you in church for a while now!”

Geoff hesitated as he gathered his papers together and sipped a little coffee.

“To be honest Father …” he said finally, “I’ve been rather busy lately …”

“Too busy to go to church?” asked Father Ignatius.

“Well … actually, I feel that God is distant these days …” confessed the architect standing up to leave.



At that point Canis the dog, who was lying by the fire, yawned heavily as he made himself more comfortable.

“That’s not a comment on what you’ve just said,” joked the priest, “sit down Geoff if you have a minute to spare.”

The architect sat down again.

“This dog and I have a special relationship,” said Father Ignatius, “when I take him for a walk in the park I sometimes let him off the lead. He runs away like mad here there and everywhere in no particular direction. He is free and he’ll go where he wants. Sometimes he is quite far away. It is he who has distanced himself from me Geoff; and not the other way round.

“Do you see what I mean?”

“Yes … I do … I suppose it is me who’s distanced myself from God,” replied the architect, “but I suppose it is because I no longer see Him as relevant in my life.”

“I wonder whether Canis sees me as relevant in his life?” asked the priest, “the other day I was cleaning the back garden and he looked at me as if to say ‘I like this … I poo wherever I want and you get to pick it up … that’s a special relationship all right!’ ”

Geoff smiled.

“And what’s more …” continued the priest, “he seems to be absolutely useless. He is certainly no guard dog. If we were to have a burglar in the house he would probably show him where I’ve hidden my stash of chocolates.

“The other day he came face to face with a cat in the back garden. He stood still like a statue. Then turned his head towards me expecting me to run and bark after the cat.

“I did not move. The cat started to panic and run but then stopped in total confusion and looked at the dog.

“Canis looked at me and then at the cat once or twice, and then he whined and ran inside the house to hide in his bed.”

Geoff chuckled quietly.

“But I like him Geoff,” said the priest, “and I wouldn’t part with him. And he seems to like me.

“Do you know … I think God likes you. In fact I know He loves you for sure, because He said so, many times in the Bible.

“I suspect you’re off the lead now and you’re running successfully all over the place. You don’t need God really … you have a great business, a lovely car which I must admit I envy, and a good life. No wonder He seems distant.

“But God is there all the same Geoff. Protecting you from more ills than you can imagine without you knowing it. All because He loves you.

“When you get the time, come and visit Him in church just to say Hello!”

Geoff said nothing.

“I don’t mean to be critical,” continued Father Ignatius gently, “we all get distanced from God at some stage or other in our lives Geoff.

“It would be wrong of me to see this happen to you and say nothing.

“Take one step at a time. Come to church on Sunday, and when you feel ready come to Confession. Or come again and see me for a quiet talk.

“You’ll find God will welcome you back in His loving arms like a father welcoming his prodigal son.

“You’re a good man Geoff deep down. I wouldn’t be doing business with you otherwise. I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you …” said Geoff quietly.

“I’ll be praying also that you won’t charge me too much for the building extension!” said Father Ignatius.

The Cauldron of Hatred

Looking from the sidelines, it seems to me that there is a big Cauldron of Hatred out there in the world filled with anxiety, bitterness, anger and even hatred amongst its other ingredients of evil.

It seems that in whatever walk of life, be it religion, politics, science or the arts, even dare I say, in one's personal life, there are unhappy people who resent their current situation, regardless of how rich or poor they are, regardless of how healthy or not, and regardless of anything else that can be used as a yardstick to measure their anxiety and angst.

People are generally unhappy and they are dumping their anger and frustrations in this huge Cauldron of Hatred which exists somewhere or other on this earth. It could be in the newspapers, on television and radio, on social media on the Internet, or indeed in their personal lives at work, at play, or even at home when they argue and vent with their spouse, children, neighbours or even the poor cat who gets kicked for no apparent reason.

Have you not noticed the negative tone of some of the stories in your newspaper? Or on TV programs, whether it is the News or even soap programs perpetrating sadness and bitterness as if art imitates real life and or vice versa? Have you not noticed the many postings on social media where individuals pour out their anger and malcontent for all to see and share? And in personal life too; can you not remember the last time the cat has had to hide in a panic to safeguard what is left of his nine lives?

Why all this negativeness? I hear you ask.

I am waiting ... are you asking as I'm expecting?

Why all this vile forever filling the Cauldron of Hatred?

Has it to do with the diets we are all eating? A shortage of good old fashioned roughage such as bran, for instance? Or a good spoonful of cod liver oil before going to bed?

Why are so many of us so upset about this and that and the other thing? Especially the other thing. You know what they say. If it is not this it is always the mother (in-law)!

Is it because we have become greedy and we all want what the other person has and more besides?

Where is the peace we are supposed to have towards each other? Loving one's neighbours and turning the other cheek? (By the way, I mean facial cheek, not your backside!).

Where is the forgiveness time and again and not just seven times seventy?

That's why we are behaving in the despicable way that we do. It has nothing to do with a lack of broccoli or other vile vegetables in our meals.

It is because we have forgotten to "Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." John 13:35.

It is because people have forgotten to be grateful for what they have and to count their blessings.

Meanwhile, the Cauldron of Hatred keeps filling to overspilling.

Diogenes

Diogenes is certainly an interesting character from ancient history. He was also known as Diogenes the Cynic (you'll learn why later) and was born in either 412 or 404 BC (not sure which) and died in 323 BC.

He was a controversial figure. His father was a banker who minted coins for a living, and for a while Diogenes worked with him. There was a banker's scandal and Diogenes was banished from Sinope, the city where he lived.

He moved to Athens where he proclaimed many of his theories:

He believed that virtue is better shown in action rather than in theory.

He criticised the social values and institutions and the corruption in society.

He believed in living the simple life without too many possessions and clutter. (He did not even have a TV because it was yet to be invented).

Diogenes made a virtue of poverty and begged for a living. He slept in a large ceramic jar (or tub) in the marketplace; and was notorious for his philosophical stunts - like carrying a lamp in the daytime, claiming to be looking for an honest man.

When he arrived in Athens Diogenes had a slave called Manes who ran away from him. Diogenes declared: "If Manes can live without Diogenes, why not Diogenes without Manes?" explaining that it was wrong for a master to have a servant doing things for him.

As I mentioned earlier, he lived in poverty in a tub in the market place with no possesions but a small bowl from which he drank. One day he saw a boy drinking from the hollow of his hands; so Diogenes destroyed the bowl and was much grieved that for years he had a useless possession.

In those days it was forbiden to eat in the marketplace. Remember it was the days before fast-food outlets and milkshakes - even chocolate ones, because chocolate too, like TV, had not yet been invented.

Notwithstanding the lack of a good hamburger, Diogenes would still eat in the markeplace. When he was told off he replied: "It's when I'm in the marketplace that I am hungry; not somewhere else!" A logic which today would have earned him a punch on the nose.

In those days in Athens there were other clever men like Plato, (I believe he could spin twenty plates on long sticks which he would shake every now and then to keep them spinning) and Socrates who much enjoyed the show and made 10% from ticket sales.

During one of his performances Plato described man as a "featherless biped" and the audience applauded in delight at this joke. Easily pleased I suppose!

So Diogenes plucked a chicken and declared to Plato "Behold! I've brought you a man." It is not recorded how Plato reacted; but no doubt the distraction made him loose concentration and he smashed many plates spinning on sticks.

One day whilst in Corinth Diogenes met Alexander the Great. Diogenes was relaxing in the sunlight in the morning. Alexander was keen to meet the famous philosopher and, he being a man of great influence and power, asked Diogenes politely if there was any favour he might do for him. Diogenes replied, "Yes, stand out of my sunlight".

Alexander then declared, "If I were not Alexander, then I should wish to be Diogenes", to which Diogenes replied, "If I were not Diogenes, I should also wish to be Diogenes."

Proving that despite his reputed cleverness Diogenes was in fact stupid because he could have asked Alexander the Great for a TV and chocolate milkshake and civilisation would have enjoyed both much earlier.

This makes less sense

I recently wrote (yesterday) that nothing makes sense any more in this crazy world of ours. It seems to me that we are all being slowly, (or not so slowly), influenced by social media, by TV and by magazines to behave in a way we would not have thought of behaving forthwith, (or fore before - if there is such a word).

I read two articles recently which seem to me to be crazy, yet they portray how you can influence behaviour in this modern sophisticated crazy world we live in.

The first one suggests that we should do our household chores in the nude. "It is liberating", explained the article. It makes you break free and uninhibited from the tedious essentials of housework which entrap us all.

We all have to sweep, and dust, and vacuum clean every now and then. Or make the beds, or tidy up, or load the washing machine, the dishwasher or whatever else we have to do at home. These are essentials that we cannot escape. So why not escape them mentally, if not physically, by taking all our clothes off and do these tedious boring jobs in the nude. Totally naked. As the day we were born. As nature intended.

The magazine article had a number of pictures of men and women doing various jobs in their birthday suits and several quotes from various people, (real or fictitious - I don't know), saying how they enjoyed the new experience of working naked and how they recommend it to others.

I can see how this would influence some people to try it for themselves. Although personally I would dread being naked in close proximity of a vacuum cleaner nozzle.

The second article is just as crazy.

It suggested that a number of people are using social media to show off their houses and gardens by posting fake pictures of various rooms in their home. They show off a new kitchen for instance, or a new lounge, dining room or whatever. But the photos used are fake taken from the internet or from other photo sources. Similarly, they show off new gardens they have had re-designed, swimming pools, cars and so on.

In effect, it is keeping up with the Joneses on social media rather than for real.

In these days when everyone seems to have a million "friends" on social media, (and perhaps none in real life), it feels good to boast about one's home, garden or whatever without the risk of ever being found out as being a fake.

I guess this too is liberating in some form or another. You are living the dream on the internet, and in your mind, if not in real life.

So ... what do you think of either or both of these stories?

Would you consider doing your housework totally naked? (I remember reading about an old gentleman who hired a cleaner and paid good money as long as she cleaned his home in the nude - but that's another story).

Or would you post a fake photo of your home to show off how well you are doing in life?

Nothing Makes Sense

Nothing makes sense any more. Whenever I look at the world around me, near and far, I see things changing so fast that they make no sense whatsoever. Either the whole world has gone mad. Or it is me that is mad. Seeing that there are more people in the world than just me, I have concluded that it is the whole world which has gone mad. I am the only sensible one around folks.

Let me give you some examples. For years people have been known to love a drink or two. I like a drop of whisky, and also Guinness every now and then. People also like ice cream. My favourite is chocolate flavoured. There's nothing wrong with liking a drink or ice cream or whatever foods you prefer. The other day in the supermarket I discovered Gin and Tonic ice cream. There were other drinks too. I don't mean G and T flavour but actual gin in it. It even had a warning not to be sold to under 18s and it stated on the packet the amount of alcohol in it.

I asked myself why? But as I was the only one around I did not answer myself.

Why would someone want to have an ice cream at home with alcohol in it? And if this is your particular weakness, why not buy ordinary ice cream and pour whatever drink you wish on it?

And another thing. Many people around here have hanging baskets outside their homes, one on each side of the front door, in which they plant things like fuchsias, daisies and so on. They look lovely. Now you can buy ready made hanging baskets with plastic plants and flowers you don't need to water or look after. What is the point of that? Why not have plastic lawn in your garden with plastic trees, bushes, hedgehogs, birds and whatever else you wish; like plastic fish in your pond? Better still, why not concrete the whole area and have a large picture of a garden all around the fence marking your territory?

When I was growing up shopping was a little easier. You went to the butcher for meat, the greengrocer for fruit and vegetables, the stationers for pens and papers and envelopes and so on. You get the idea. Now with supermarkets you get everything under one roof. As well as your food you can buy electric appliances like toasters and kettles, (our supermarket even sells fridges and washing machines), and some supermarkets have their own bank and can give you a loan, or a credit card. What's all that about? Is it progress or are we putting small traders out of business?

The other day I went to the optician. He always likes to sell me some new glasses, (after cutting my hair). He suggested reading glasses for downstairs when reading the newspapers; and another pair by the bedside when reading my tablet or a book. The other day he suggested a new kind of purchase.

"Would you like some new glasses?" he said, as he finished trimming my beard.

"I already have enough glasses," I replied.

"These are different," he interrupted. "These are glasses you can drink from. We have a new line in whisky glasses, wine glasses, champagne flutes, and whatever else you like." And indeed he had. He had started a new line of business playing on the word glasses. I ended up buying a couple of beer mugs to pacify him.

So there you have it. My cell phone takes photos, and every time it rings I press the wrong button and take a picture of my ear. The car talks to me and tells me I have left a door open. And my old friend whom I visit at home had a suppository in her ear. When I told her about it she wondered where she had put her hearing aid.

Nothing makes sense any more. 

Forgiving You

A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. Later that evening the man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt.

He put on his shoes and drove home.

"Where have you been?" his wife demanded.

"I can't lie to you," he replied, "I'm having an affair with my secretary."

She looked down at his shoes and said: "You're lying to me! You've been playing golf!"

Adultery is no laughing matter, of course, although these days it is so common that it has become the subject of jokes. Many years ago adultery was a very serious matter indeed.

We all know the story when the Pharisees brought to Jesus a woman caught committing adultery.

According to Jewish law she had to be stoned to death for that sin. We’re told in the Gospel of John that Jesus wrote in the sand with His finger. We’re not told what He wrote. I guess He wrote, ‘Dear God … will they never learn?’

But that’s not important; what is important is that after He said let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone, and when they all left one by one, Jesus turned to the woman and asked ‘Is there no one left to condemn you?’

She said ‘No one …’

And Jesus replied ‘I do not condemn you either. Go, but do not sin again.’

Now Jesus did not mean do not sin any sin whatsoever ever again for the rest of your life!

He knew that that is impossible. The woman was human, and it is natural that she would sin again. Jesus knows our human nature and He knows that we are liable to sin again and again …

What Jesus said to the woman is, do not commit that particular sin again … it is serious enough to get you into a lot of trouble with the Pharisees as well as with God Himself.

And that’s what Jesus is saying to us today.

He knows we are weak … He knows that we will sin … By saying ‘do not sin again’ Jesus is warning us to beware of those particular sins which are serious enough to lead us into damnation, and into an eternity of exclusion from our Father in Heaven.

In our propensity to sin, God is loving and caring enough to forgive us again and again.

When we confess our sins to God there should also be remorse and guilt for what we have done. Confession should not be just a laborious recitation of the same old sins; and a futile exercise which serves no one and certainly does not fool God Himself.

Without true remorse, and a genuine resolve not to repeat our sins; then confession means nothing. And it would be better not to confess or repent at all. At least that is honest in the eyes of God.

Now when God has forgiven us that should be the end of the matter. He does not keep a little black book in which He writes what we have done and reminds us again and again when we sin again. He knows that our weakness will overcome us; and what He asks is that we at least try not to repeat our sins again. Certainly so for the more serious ones; like adultery for instance.

However, often, our human nature is less forgiving than God's nature. With an honest repentance we are certainly forgiven by God but not by us. We feel we are not forgiven. We feel so ashamed of our sin that we do not forgive ourselves and we torture ourselves by re-calling our sins in our mind and feel unforgiven.

Our inner voice tells us we are unforgiven and reproaches us for what we have done. In some cases this is to such an extent that it stops us moving forward with our lives and hinders our progress towards a loving God waiting to hug us with open arms.

Such a reaction to sin may indeed be a natural human emotion, but it is wrong. It is like slapping God's face and saying that we do not accept His forgiveness or that His forgiveness was wrong. And that itself is another sin on our conscience.

We must learn, and indeed accept, that once God has forgiven us that should be the end of it. And not carry the sense of guilt with us for ever more. Let us move on freely and with a resolve not to sin that particular sin again.

At the Zoo

Why is it that people with children like to go to the zoo over and again? What's so fun about going to the zoo? They're such a waste of time and money.

I think zoos should only have five animals. The rest are a total unnecessary waste.

Children go to zoos to see the lion, the tiger, the elephant, the giraffe and of course the monkeys. The rest are not important.

Who really cares about going to the zoo and seeing a tortoise? Or a frog? Or snakes?

"Oh ... here is a snake. Let's stop and watch him not moving for at least ten minutes!" They are all not moving. They are most probably asleep or dead with boredom at being in a glass tank under such a hot light.

Would you go to the zoo to watch an earwig or a centipede?

Which reminds me. Did you know that if a centipede is attacked it detaches some of its legs and throws them at his attacker? That way the attacker stops to eat the leg and the centipede runs away and hides.

It's true, I tell you. I read it in a book called the Legless Centipede which I am currently writing. The book will contain 100 pages with perforations near the spine. That way, as the book is read the pages will tear off and you'll be left with just the cover. Clever, don't you think? There will be a version with edible paper so you can eat the pages as you tear them off the book."Feed the Mind AND the Stomach" is my new motto!

Back to the zoo ... of course, there is the interminable collection of animals who look very much the same but have different names. There's the reindeer, the white tailed deer, the elk, the moose, the fallow deer, the Siberian roe deer, the piebald deer, the Père David's deer and the I don't care what type of deer you are deer. You are all boring me to death!

And it's the same for other animals. The zebra for example is just a horse painted in black and white lines. What's so clever about that? The bison and the buffalo are just cows like any other cow or ox but with a fancy name to earn them a place in the zoo.

And don't tell me about the interminable collection of birds of every size, colour and shape? Do I really care about the difference between one hawk and another, or one owl and another, or one parrot and another? Do children really care?

We stood there for what seemed years watching some feathered creatures in various cages. I forgot, nor cared, what they were called; but I remember they ate fruit because on the ground and stuck to various branches in the cage were pieces of apples which the keepers put there.

The cages had various labels naming the different birds, where they originate from, and whether they were extinct or not. A misnomer if there ever was one. Extinct means they don't exist. Since these birds were here in the cage wasting my time and keeping me from a well-earned Guinness proves the fact that they are not extinct. YET!!!

Personally, the only birds I care for are the ones I find at my favourite Kentucky Fried restaurant. I wonder why they don't serve Kentucky Fried parrot, or hawk or owl? There's plenty of scope for diversifying in that restaurant. Like Kentucky Fried ostrich or rabbit. Although they would need bigger fryers for the elephants!

That asides, I noticed that on some of the apples were a few flies enjoying the nectar of the fruit. I called one of the zoo keepers and asked him which kind of flies these were. He looked puzzled and said "I don't know; they're just flies!" I complained that since all the birds had been named by their individual labels why are there not any labels on the cage explaining more about the flies and their life cycle?

Before we left this tedious collection of creatures I don't care much about, we just had to visit the souvenir shop. Every trip to the zoo must end with a visit to the souvenir shop. It's traditional and another opportunity to waste your hard-earned cash on a lot of things you really don't need. Of course the children love the stuffed toy animals. What's better than a stuffed toy lion? Or a giraffe perhaps?

I asked the shop attendant whether she had a stuffed toy fly. She looked at me with the same air of puzzlement as the bird keeper earlier on. I explained that I had seen a fly on an apple earlier on and I would like as a souvenir of my visit to the zoo to purchase a stuffed toy fly. She asked the manageress who assured me that there is not much demand for such toys and would a toy hippopotamus do instead?

Anyway, we eventually left the zoo, with the children so tired they slept in the car cuddling their toy animals and me counting how much money we had spent. This is probably the fifth time at least we have visited different zoos during the holidays, and they are all the same. Not much fun really!