Father Ignatius and the Painter

Once upon a time there was an unscrupulous painter who was very interested in making extra money if he could. He often thinned down his paint with turpentine to make it go a bit further. Sadly, he got away with this for some time.

One day Father Ignatius decided to paint the outside of the Parish Hall white. He asked for several quotations and this painter’s was the lowest price quoted. As the priest was short of funds the painter in question got the job.

So he set about erecting the scaffolding and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with turpentine.

As the painter was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly completed, there was suddenly a horrendous clap of thunder, the sky opened, and the rain poured down washing the thinned paint from all over the Parish Hall walls, and knocking the painter clear off the scaffold to land on the lawn among the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint.

The painter realised that this was a judgement from above …

He got on his knees and cried:

“Oh God … oh God … help me … what should I do?”

And just then a thunderous voice replied:

“Repaint !!! Repaint !!! And thin no more !!!”

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I am better than you

“I’m so pious ... Always on my knees praying ... So much so that I’ve calluses on my knees the size of mountains ... Ha ha ... I fast too and go for long periods without water ... I’m alright really ... I’m a devout Christian ... Not like all those un-believers.”

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men — robbers, evildoers, adulterers — or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 18:10-14.

Why did Jesus have to come to earth?

Another week, another Friday. Father Ignatius set out from St Vincent Church to St Joseph Catholic School to take on the Catechism class with the 15 years old.

It was always a challenge facing those youngsters, especially since he allowed a few minutes at the end of class for free discussion. They could ask anything they wanted and he promised to give them an honest answer – even if he didn’t have an answer, he promised them to say so.

A young pupil put up her hand and asked:

“Why did Jesus have to come to earth? Why didn’t God continue to speak through the prophets like Moses and all the others? And send His Commandments and messages that way? Did Jesus really have to come and die for us to be forgiven? Couldn't God just forgive us?”

“That’s an intelligent question Catherine,” replied the priest, “in fact it’s more than one question; all intelligent at that!”

The young pupil smiled proudly.

“I am not God,” said Father Ignatius, “and I cannot possibly explain what went through His mind when He sent us Jesus; or His motivation for Christ’s Virgin birth, sinless life, death and Resurrection. I know and believe that God decided to send us His Son Jesus to die for us. Yes, He could have just forgiven us, as you say. Being God, He could have done what He wishes, and still can. But I believe that He sent us Jesus, His Son ... and when Jesus was raised to Heaven He sent us the Holy Spirit, who is still with us today ... ”

He stopped for a while to clean his glasses which gained him some thinking time; then putting them back on he continued:

“Let me tell you a story I heard years ago …”

The whole class was now focused on his every word. He knew how to captivate their attention and he firmly believed that honesty, combined with his modern-day parables, would make them remember what he had to say and hopefully mold them into a lifetime founded on the Word of God.

“Once upon a time there was a farmer living in Canada where, as you know, the winters can be very cold and miserable.



“One such cold winter evening in the midst of a very violent snow storm, the farmer was in his home keeping warm by the fireside when he heard banging on the side of his house.

“What could it possibly be? He thought as he heard the continuous thump, thump, thump coming from outside?

“He ignored it at first, but as his dog was getting a little fractious by the sound the farmer put on his heavy overcoat and woolly hat and went outside to investigate.

“He struggled in the blinding snow and nearly slipped once or twice.



“As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness he discovered that a flock of wild geese had lost their way in the snow storm and landed in the field near his house.

“There were literally hundreds of them. Disorientated, cold and wandering everywhere.

“They were landing heavily like an airplane with failed engines, and many of them crashed against the side of the barn.

“The farmer realized that left out in the cold they would soon perish without any shelter.



“So he opened the doors of one of his barns and hoped that they would go in for the night.

“But no ... they remained out in the cold cackling and walking around in circles rather than seek shelter in the barn.

“He tried to shoo them in by walking behind them with his arms spread out ... but to no avail ... the geese ran everywhere except into the barn.



“He tried to persuade his sheepdog to herd them into the barn. But the dog had better ideas in mind. He raised his back leg to answer a call of nature then ran back into the house.”

The class of students laughed in unison.

“The farmer thought to himself ‘If only I could talk to these birds in their own language and explain to them that the barn will shelter them from the snow ... It’s their only way to salvation from this freezing cold …’

“Then an idea struck him.

“He opened another barn and let out his own geese in the yard. The yard was now full of his flock as well as these Canadian wild geese. All cackling away in the freezing snow.

“After a minute or so he shooed his own geese into the open barns again and to his relief the wild geese followed them to safety.”

The priest stopped to allow the story to sink into their young minds.

“You see … I think God had the same problem with us humans on earth.

“For years He spoke to us through the prophets as Catherine said when she asked her question. But did we listen … of course not. We continued in our sinful way.

“So God sent His only Son to us, as a human, so that we may see Him, hear Him and hopefully listen to Him speaking to us in our own language.

“Some of us have accepted Jesus as the Son of God and have heeded the Word of God, as spoken through Christ our Lord.

“But years later, even now, there are many who are not listening still.

“And that’s what we must remember at Christmas time. It isn’t just about the baby Jesus being born in a stable. It is more important than that. It is about the reality that God Himself visited us here on earth all those years ago.”

What did she know?

It’s amazing how sometimes a chance remark or a word spoken in jest can lead one to think something anew or with a fresh point of view.

Father Ignatius was helping with the dismantling of the Nativity scene in church and putting away the various statues safely for use the following Christmas. One of the helpers lifted the statue of the Virgin Mary and remarked: “Look at her face. She looks sad. It’s as if she knew what was to happen to Jesus when He grew up.”

“She’s probably tired after giving birth,” replied another helper.

“No … she looks sad, not tired. Do you think she knew that Jesus would be crucified Father?”

Father Ignatius sat down on a nearby chair.

“I think we need a rest, at least I know I do …” he said.

The other helpers stopped for a while.

“It’s a good question you ask …” continued the priest, “many people have argued about the Virgin Mary over the years, and no doubt will continue to do so. Not everyone holds her in such high regards as we do. Some see her as a woman who gave birth to the Son of God, and just that.

“Many doubt her various Apparitions throughout the world.

“As for how much she knew … well that’s another matter.”

“What do you mean Father?”

The priest finished cleaning his glasses and put them on again. It was a trick he had perfected when he wanted some thinking time.

“Let’s consider Mary when the Angel Gabriel announced what is to happen. Did the Angel just tell her about the Birth of Jesus, or did he, or the Holy Spirit perhaps, also tell her of what is to happen after that?

“Was she told that Jesus would grow up to perform many miracles? That His Mission on earth was to redeem us from our sins? That He would be arrested, beaten, tortured, have a crown of thorns put on His head, made to carry His own Cross and then nailed cruelly to it until He died in agony?”

“I’m not sure … the Bible doesn’t say much about this,” said one of his listeners.

“No, the Bible doesn’t …” continued the priest, “it does not record everything. For example, we have a gap in Christ’s life from the age of twelve when He was found in the temple by His parents to the age of thirty or so when He started His Mission on earth.

“The Gospels in particular focus mainly on Christ, as they should, and don’t mention Mary or Joseph very much.”

“Well what do you think Father?” he was asked again.

“What I think is only a personal point of view.

“I doubt that God would have asked her to become the Mother of Jesus without telling her what this entailed.

“I believe the Holy Spirit would have told her what is to happen. We don’t know in how much details … we can only guess at that. And throughout her life, from the moment the Angel Gabriel visited her, she had snippets of confirmation of what is to happen.

“When she visited Elizabeth … we learn that Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and confirmed ‘you are the most blessed amongst women, and blessed is the child you will bear!’

“When she presented the baby Jesus in the temple, Simeon warned her ‘and sorrow, like a sharp sword, will break your own heart.’

“And when at the age of twelve His parents found Jesus in the temple He said ‘Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?’ And Mary treasured all these things in her heart.

“Yes … I believe she knew quite a lot what was to happen to Jesus.”

“Wow … no wonder she looks so sad …” exclaimed one of the helpers.

“This leads us to consider something else,” added the priest.

“Imagine you knew every detail that is to happen in your life. Every illness, sad moment and unhappiness that is to happen. And you could not change it. You had to go through it. How would you feel? Would you be able to cope with the fear and agony of knowing what is to happen to you?

“We don’t know how much Mary knew of her future and that of Jesus.

“But Jesus certainly knew what would happen to Him. Every detail from the moment of His arrest to His death. Peter’s denial, Judas’ betrayal, His disciples fleeing in fear. The agony of His torture and Crucifixion.

“Can you imagine how He must have felt as He grew up, as a teenager and young man, knowing that this day was still to come? The horror of it must have been unbearable.

“Yet He went through with it … just for us!”

They were all silent for a few moments as they considered the seriousness of what they’d just heard.

No Peace

Please allow me to quote from my book "Visions" where Jesus says: "This world cannot know peace until it learns to forgive. Forgiveness is the way to peace".

Regular readers of this Blog, (that's just you and me, the two of us), will know that I often post humourous articles and fun stories here.

I know from analysing the stats that these articles often attract new readers who came here by searching for "jokes", "fun" or other similar words and, having found me, hopefully spend some time looking at the other more serious Christian posts; and hopefully get to know Jesus through what I write.

As I look at life around me, in my locality or on a wider scale through the news media, I notice that as a human race we still have not learnt to forgive.

We may well have advanced in numerous fields such as science, technology, the arts and so on ... but we're still unable or unwilling to learn the very basics regarding mutual peaceful existance.

We've all been hurt in life at one time or other. Some more than others. The hurt runs deep and the wounds are still raw and painful. No one is immune to being hurt.

The trick is - what do we do next?

Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, if my brother keeps sinning against me, how many times do I have to forgive him? Seven times?” “No, not seven times,” answered Jesus, “but seventy times seven.” Matthew 18: 21-22

According to my calculator this adds up to 490 times. But I'm sure Jesus did not mean to limit us to that number.

How do we forgive?

True forgiveness means that we no longer hold something against the one who hurt us. No thoughts of revenge, retribution, punishment or anything like that. We just let what they have done pass away and we move on.

Someone asked me the other day – I have forgiven but cannot forget the pain and hurt caused to me. Does that mean I’ve not really forgiven?

The simple answer is:

If none of the feelings mentioned above are in our hearts – then we have truly forgiven.

Jesus asked us to forgive. Not to forget.

Of course we'll remember the hurt. The more the hurt the more we'll remember as every day something happens to remind us. This is natural.

The second trick is:

We use every remembrance of the hurt to forgive once again.

We also use every remembrance to pray for the one who hurt us. We hand that person over to God as well as the hurt itself.

You cannot possibly hate someone you are praying for.

When Jesus looks at the scars in His hands, feet and side He remembers; and forgives once again.

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John's Legacy

A man wandering in the desert, dressed in clothes made of camel hair, and eating locusts and wild honey. (Mark 1:4-8).

Not exactly sartorial elegance. More of an eccentric if you ask me.

Yet this was a man with a mission.

His mission – to tell everyone about Jesus. To prepare them for His arrival.

His name – John, the Baptist. In case you confuse him with another John.

An outspoken man who feared no one in his quest to do what God had asked him. He even dared to criticize the king, and paid dearly with his life for doing so. (Mark 6:14-29).

His legacy to us?

Courage and Obedience.

Despite living in dangerous times, this man had courage to speak out and tell the world about Jesus; and dared tell the King that he was wrong.

How often are we presented with the opportunity to speak about God, about our religion and our Christianity. Do we shy away and miss a good opportunity to witness for our Lord? Or have we got a tiny fraction of John’s courage? And obedience?

How old is the earth?

For a long time now scientists and archaeologists and all sorts of learned people looking up at the stars and digging various places on earth for artifacts and things have been asking each other how old is the earth. Some have surmised that it is millions of years old, others have said it is older than that, give or take a day or two either side, whilst some believe the earth is really trillions of years old if not more.

Well, I can tell you with a fair degree of accuracy that the earth is 12 years old. Yes, just 12 years old. I know that my theory does not pass much scrutiny by learned scientists, or the one or two readers of this Blog who know better; but bear with me whilst I explain.

It all happened some 12 years ago whilst we were all asleep and we did not notice it. There was a major cosmic happening and the earth as we know it entered a vortex leading to a black hole with a singularity much greater than anyone could imagine. That is of course if anyone was awake to imagine it. Entering such a vortex is like going round and round with the water as it goes down the plug hole in your bath. Eventually, you too go down the plug hole with the water.

And this is what happened to earth. In doing so, it somehow rejuvenated in energy and stamina albeit not necessarily in age. So, although measurements like carbon dating, or archaeologists unearthing things dating back centuries may prove the earth existed more than 12 years ago; in energy terms it is only 12 years old. It's like giving an old coot a massive dose of vitamins and making him young and "active" much to the displeasure of his wife or girl-friend. Which reminds me; if I may be allowed to go off at a tangent for a bit: Did you know that archaeologists make the best marriage partners? The older you get the more interested they are in you.

Anyway, the earth entered this vortex leading to a black hole and came out the other end much rejuvenated and as young in stamina and energy as if it were 12 years old. And we didn't even notice it.

Why did this happen? I hear you ask.

Well it's simple really. The earth as it was then was slowing down. As you know, it turns from left to right all the time and has been doing so for ages. But like anyone who has had a life's diet of large burgers and French fries washed down with great amounts of drinks the earth was getting heavier and much slower. The turn from left to right was taking longer than the accustomed 24 hours each turn.

The earth was getting heavier because of the millions and millions of people who over the years have been born and died. Imagine as far back as the year dot how many people have been born. What happens to them when they die? They are either buried or cremated and their remains remain on earth, if you pardon the pun. Think also of all the trees and plants who have been "born" and eventually died. All these have their remains still on earth. The same for animals, birds, fish and everything else. They die, they remain on earth and new ones come along to eventually die and also remain on earth. Nothing actually leaves the planet which is getting heavier all the time.

And because it is heavier it becomes slower. Which means the sun has more time to shine on the same area as it passes slower and slower underneath it. And this my friends is what contributes to global warming.

It has nothing to do with all the other theories you've heard about regarding global warming. Not even the fact that we light so many candles in the world; at birthday parties, in churches, in restaurants, at intimate dinners or even in the bath. What's the idea of lighting candles in the bath anyway? Quite dangerous I think if you happen to singe your hair. Take it from me. Lighting candles does not lead to global warming. The earth slowing down does.

Going through the vortex at very high speeds has meant that the earth lost some (a lot) of its excess dust and is now a little lighter and its turn around speed a little more normal. For now ... We could all help it along by becoming lighter ourselves and eating less burgers and fries. And breeding less!

Galileo

We've mentioned Galileo before on this Blog but there's no reason why we can't mention him again. So here goes: Galileo Galilei (1564–1642) famous Italian mathematician, physicist and philosopher from Pisa.

In 1583, Galileo entered the cathedral in Pisa. Some men were carrying out some repairs and someone accidently set in motion a heavy lamp which was suspended from the ceiling. The lamp kept moving to and fro, to and fro, backwards and forwards. Galileo sat there on a pew and watched it move backwards and forwards ... backwards and forwards "you are feeling sleepy, very sleepy, your eyes are getting tired, your eyelids are heavy ..."

Sorry ... I got distracted by my own writing there. Exciting what? I'm so good at suspense that sometimes I surprise myself. Anyway, back at the suspense.

The suspended heavy lamp, (see what I did there with the word suspense?). As I was saying, the swinging lamp set Galileo thinking. He was easily amused. 

He noticed that the to and fro swings seemed to be timed almost the same. He put his fingers on his left wrist and counted his pulse. To his surprise the swinging of the lamp was almost the same as his pulse.

It was a Eureka moment.

He got in touch with a Swiss friend of his called Role the Tenth because he was the tenth son of a man called Role who called all his children Role. Anyway, Role the Tenth shortened his name to ROLE X. He was so excited by Galileo's discovery that he and Galileo invented a watch which works like a pendulum. It was the first time that pendulums were used for time keeping purposes.

People wore the watches on their wrist and went around swinging their arms to and fro, to and fro, to keep the watch working. Unfortunately, in doing so they often hit other people in the eye or in the face causing a lot of injuries. So the pendulum watch never took off as a successful idea. This did not deter Role X who went on to invent much better sought-after watches.

Back to Galileo, however, who also undetered by his watch experiment went on to invent the telescope. He took a long tube and put a glass lens at each end et voila.

Galileo placed the telescope by the window high up in his house in the attic and, remembering his adventure with Role X years previously, he started swinging the telescope to and fro, to and fro. He moved it to the left, then he moved it to the right, and then the left again.

And this is what he saw.

And this ...

And also this ...

Of course, those were the days before curtains in windows were invented. So Galileo put his telescope to good use by watching his neighbours' goings on all evening.

He was there for so long that his wife grew a little worried. She switched off the radio in the kitchen where she was listening to "Woman's World"; a popular programme at the time, and went up in the attic.

"What are you doing?" she asked Galileo in Italian. (She did not speak English, but even if she did, it was pointless speaking to Galileo in English because he did not know English either).

"Oh ... I am looking at the heavenly bodies" he lied as he swung his telescope upwards towards the sky.

His wife was suspicious about this but said nothing. It was after all a very cloudy night with not even a moon, so there was no chance he would have been watching "heavenly bodies" - not unless they were mooning him from their windows!
 
The following day, whilst Galileo was out of the house buying pizza for lunch, she went up to the attic and put a little ink on the end of the telescope from which you look. She knew from listening to the weather forecast on the radio that that very evening would also be very cloudy and therefore there was no point in watching up to the sky for planets or stars.

That very evening, Galileo pretended to be tired and went to bed early. As you've guessed, he spent all night watching his neighbours again.

The next morning he woke up with two black rings round both eyes. That's because he had gotten very tired watching for "heavenly bodies" with just one eye, so he alternated eyes to have a rest.

His wife challenged him and he confessed and told her the whole truth. 

Rather than be angry, which is what you would expect under the circumstances, or over the circumstances even; the clever wily lady invented binoculars to save one from having to change eyes when watching whatever it is you want to watch.

Which goes to show:  

Man might think he is clever. But in reality woman is much cleverer than him.

A Vision?

Father Ignatius was busy in his office dealing with some paper work when Eric, a young man in his mid-twenties, came in.

“I’ve changed the oil Father and gave the engine a good run. It’s as good as new.”

Eric was a car mechanic at the local garage and every now and then he came over to the parochial house to maintain the priest’s car and undertake any minor jobs that needed doing.

“Thank you” replied Father Ignatius, “I’ll await the invoice from your boss in due course.”

“Oh I see you got that picture of Jesus …” said Eric pointing at the wall. “The boss has the same one in his office at work.”

“It’s very popular …” mumbled the priest hoping that the youngster would soon leave. He had plenty of paperwork to get on with and he could really not afford the time for a chat.

“Did He really look like that?” continued Eric.

“Who?”

“Jesus … did He look like that? This is the picture painted by that nun isn’t it? What’s her name?”

Father Ignatius put down the letter he was reading and turned to Eric. It was obvious that although he wished to get on with his work the Good Lord had other plans for him.

“Her name is Sister Faustina. Her real name at birth was Helena Kowalska.”

“Greek was she?” asked Eric making himself comfortable in the armchair near the window.

Father Ignatius took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his right hand, as if to summon every once of patience that the Good Lord might send him. “Why now, when I’m busy,” he prayed silently.

“No Eric,” he said with a smile, “she was Polish.”

“That’s right; I knew it was somewhere foreign. Near Jerusalem where Jesus came from …”

“Not quite near Jerusalem!”

“And she actually saw Jesus and painted Him. That’s what I have been told. Do you believe that?” interrupted the young man eagerly. “I mean … she could have been lying. Can you prove that she actually saw Jesus and He looks like that picture?”

“Despite my age,” said the priest abruptly, “I can assure you I was not around when Sister Faustina was around. So I can’t actually prove what you ask for.” He then immediately regretted what he had said and continued in a more gentle voice.

“Look Eric, we are told that Sister Faustina back in 1931 had a Vision of our Lord. She saw Him dressed in white and standing very much as in the picture there. From His heart rays came out, one red and another pale, as you can see.

“The Lord spoke to her and asked her to paint an image according to the Vision she can see and to write ‘Jesus I trust in you.’ And that’s how we came to have this picture."

“Oh …” said Eric.

“Now you and I have two choices to make,” continued the priest.

“We can believe this is all true. Or we can believe she was lying and nothing really happened.

“If indeed the story is true and we chose to ignore it we would have lost a great opportunity to venerate the image of Christ; as He has asked us to do when He spoke to Sister Faustina.

“And what a great pity, and tragedy that would be! To ignore a request made by our Lord Himself.”

“I see …” said Eric pensively.

“Our Faith has a number of mysteries Eric,” continued the priest in his gentle tone, “things that we are invited to believe without any proof and without any evidence. That’s why they call it Faith. To believe in something when your common sense tells you otherwise.”

There followed a few moments silence whilst Eric digested the information he’d just heard.

“Does Jesus appear and speak to people these days too?” he asked finally.

“I believe He does,” replied Father Ignatius, “He certainly spoke through the Holy Spirit to Father John Woolley. Here, you can borrow his book …”

Eric picked up the book handed by the priest and read the title, “I am with you.”

He then asked, “Jesus performed miracles when He was on earth … Does He do so now? Do miracles happen now Father?”

“Yes … they do. Miracles happen every day to a lot of people. The sad fact is that too many are not willing to believe that they happen.

“Christ is alive and is amongst us now as He ever was. He speaks to us and guides us through His Holy Spirit.

“But hearts have hardened Eric. Plenty are not willing to believe.

“They may consider themselves Christians or Catholics but they don’t know what to believe anymore. They just go through the motions by going to church and by claiming they’re Christians.

“Christianity is not just a label Eric. Or a brand name. It is real. Christ is real and is alive today as He ever was. It is not an event that happened two thousand years ago which we commemorate as a Remembrance every Sunday. Christ is alive and here today. He is here in the Eucharist; He is here in the Holy Spirit who abides in our very soul, if we let Him. If we invite Him …”

Eric hesitated for a while and then asked “I’d like to really believe in all these things Father. I don’t know how …”

“That’s a good start … wanting to believe. Opening your mind and heart to the Lord.

“Pray about it. Ask God to help you believe. If you like come and join us at the Bible classes we hold every now and then here at the Parish center.

“Ask for God’s help and leave the rest to Him.

“Say what you can read in that picture on the wall, ‘Jesus, I trust in you’ and mean it every time you say it.”

Note: I am with you. Author John A Woolley ISBN 09508840-7-3 

More Father Ignatius books FREE HERE.

THE PRIEST AND PROSTITUTE

 

ISBN-10: 150106570X 

ISBN-13: 978-1501065705

When Father Ignatius is suspected of murder his whole life is turned upside down. His faith takes a real shaking as he tries in vain to plead his innocence.

The Church is shaken to its very foundations and his parishioners jump to as many conclusions as they can find and start judging without any facts or evidence.

This is the time for the priest to find out who his real friends are. Or are they keeping close to him for ulterior motives?

“THE PRIEST AND PROSTITUTE” is a fast-paced story with believable characters and situations. A realistic self-test as to one’s faith and beliefs, as well as the ability to stay focussed on God when it seems He has abandoned you.

A tale of mystery, murder and intrigue as well as courage and self-control. Imagine what you would do if all the evidence points at you and you have no way of proving your innocence.

The author skilfully combines humour with suspense to deliver a Christian message relevant to today's society.

Victor S E Moubarak has published several books available from his website (some are FREE) or in Kindle format or paperback from Amazon. 

This is what our great friend and frequent visitor to this Blog, LULU, said about this book on AMAZON:

"A man of many talents, Victor, entertains us with a "Who Don It" in this offering! What I liked MOST about the story---the reminder to not jump to judgement based upon circumstances! Victor tells a story with a touch of tongue in cheek--always--and adds a lesson in morality and faith while weaving an intriguing tale of murder and mystery. The faithful stand by Father Ignatius, but most fall away and even call for heads to roll--reminiscent of the last days of Christ. A talented writer, Victor, has once again used the infamous Father Ignatius to keep us on the edge of our seats--while at the same time gently reminding us of important life lessons. A Great Read!"

THANK YOU SO MUCH LULU

I ENCOURAGE MY READERS TO VISIT YOUR BLOG.

And this is what MANNY said about the book on his Blog.

[Victor] recently wrote a full novel, The Priest and the Prostitute, with the Fr. Ignatius character, and when it came to my attention I quickly bought it off Amazon as a Kindle ebook.  I couldn’t put it down.  What a fun book, though the situation for Fr. Ignatius isn’t so fun since he’s accused of murdering a prostitute.  Here’s a short section, from the beginning of Chapter 4. 

One fresh late-August evening Father Ignatius arrived at St. Vincent at about nine o’clock just as it was getting a little darker.  He got out of the car and was on his way towards Parish House when he was approached by a blonde woman in her late thirties who’d just walked out of the church and made her way towards him.  He was surprised that the church was still open at this hour and he made a mental note to lock up before he got into the house. 

“Hello Father Ignatius,” said the woman as she stopped some four feet away.

It was a moment when one’s brain works at a million miles an hour trying to work out a situation and getting nowhere.  Her voice sounded so familiar.  So did her face.  Father Ignatius tried hard

to remember who she was and where he had met her before but it seemed his “little grey cells”

had let him down. 

“Don’t you remember me Father?” she said eventually, “I’m Joanna!” 

“Oh yes, hello!” he heard himself mutter. 

Joanna was an occasional visitor to the church on Sundays many years ago.  She was politely known as a lady of the night, and made no secret of the fact.  Many surmised that most gentlemen of the parish had at one time or another been entertained by Joanna.  Indeed she had confessed her sin many a time to Father Ignatius although she never named names. 

“Just hello,” she said, “No hug?” 

“I remember what happened the last time Judas hugged someone,” said Father Igantius and    regretted  saying it almost immediately. 

I’m going to stop there, because that’s a really good hook.  Isn’t that enticing?  The characters are idiosyncratically charming, and you really feel for Fr. Ignatius’ predicament.  Set in a North England town, presumably one where Victor lives, and though I’ve never traveled there it felt very immediate.  He captures it well I think.

THANK YOU SO MUCH MANNY 

I ENCOURAGE MY READERS TO VISIT YOUR BLOG

AMAZON LINK CLICK HERE AND HERE.

Waiting ... Waiting ... Nothing!

Many of us often pray. Sometimes, our prayers are prayers of thanks to the Lord, but, if we're honest, more often than not we pray because we're asking God for something. We may be asking God to help us find a job, get a promotion at work, better health, a good and happy marriage or whatever else we consider to be our need, or indeed our entitlement. Yes, I repeat ... our entitlement. Because many of us believe we're entitled to things just because we consider ourselves to be good. Life really isn't like that.

Many of us pray for something and in our heart we are really saying: "Come on God! You know I love you. I go to Church every now and then, and deep inside I am really good. Why don't you let me have ... (whatever we want at the time)".

As every parent knows, when children go on and on pesterring for something or other eventually, because we love them, we may well give way and answer their demands.

In fact, Jesus reminds us of this when He mentions the widow who kept pestering the judge day in day out until eventually he gave way and gave her what she wanted. (Luke Chapter 18). In this parable Jesus teaches us not to be discouraged and to continue praying to God our Father for our needs.

But what happens when we pray and wait, and wait and nothing happens? We pray for days, months, sometimes for years for something to happen to improve our lot and God does not seem to listen or answer. We don't know why. Perhaps He is busy with more urgent and pressing demands from someone else. Perhaps our demands are not such a high priority in His ever increasing in-tray. But as far as we're concerned He is not answering; and to be quite honest, we are running out of patience.

What then? When we wait and wait and nothing happens?

Is it OK to get angry with God? To stamp our foot on the ground like a spoilt child and go into tantrums throwing our toys out of the pram in protest?

I believe it is OK to be angry with God. It will not get us very far; but it is still OK.

God can take our anger. He did after all take all our anger when hanging there on the Cross. So a bit of stamping on the ground won't hurt Him that much.

But like any loving parent He will consider our demands, and if it is good for us, He will in His time and in His way respond.

Remember that God can see not only our past but our future too, and sometimes what we're asking for is not exactly what we should have. What is good for us in the long run.

So what should we really do when our prayers are seemingly un-answered. From experience, I believe we should continue praying and have patience. And then some more patience. We really need to trust Him that He knows best. Even if trust itself is stretched to the point of disbelief, we should continue to trust Him. Through gritted teeth even. Continue to trust Him just as a child trust his parents without questioning.

Difficult? Sure it is. But not impossible. I have known people whose life and whose lot has changed from bad to worse over and again. But they never gave up. They continued to trust Him.

And that's the road to Sainthood.

Saints are sinners like you and me; but they never gave up trusting Him.

A Message from God

One day God was looking down at Earth and saw all of the rascally behaviour that was going on. So He called one of His angels and sent the angel to Earth for a time.

When he returned, he told God, 'Yes, it is bad on Earth; 95% are misbehaving and only 5% are not.

God thought for a moment and said, 'Maybe I had better send down a second angel to get another opinion.'

So God called another angel and sent him to Earth for a time. When the angel returned he went to God and said, 'Yes, it's true. The Earth is in decline; 95% are misbehaving, but 5% are being good.'

God was not pleased. So He decided to e-mail the 5% that were good, because He wanted to encourage them, and give them a little something to help them keep going.

Do you know what the e-mail said?

Okay, I was just wondering, because I didn't get one either!!!

Are you missing out?

Are you missing out on some humour at my expense?

My memoirs made me laugh so much I had to write them sitting down.

A book not to be missed especially if you are throwing it at someone.

Makes an ideal Christmas or Birthday present to someone you don't like. 

A book with non-boomerang qualities. Will not return when thrown.

The only book in the world written slowly to make it last longer.

Not edible but can be grilled or barbecued safely.

This is the book which made the Mona Lisa smile.

The very book which made The Laughing Cavalier laugh.

The actual book which made Whistler's Mother look out the window in disgust.

 

And it's the book which made Rodin's Thinker take off his clothes and sit on a toilet seat outdoors.

What will this book make you do?

ADDITIONAL NOTE: This is what Lulu, a friend and frequent visitor to this Blog, said about this book on AMAZON -

"I was first introduced to Victor's work in the blogging world. I was so enamored with his great sense of humor, that I never hesitated when he announced this book on his blog, "Time for Reflections:. It is so refreshing to read a humorous book filled with wit and humor without the need to spice it up with vulgar language or sexual undertones. Victor shows us, page after page, life is quite humorous--especially when you don't mind making yourself the brunt of the joke. An easy to read--delightful page turner--Victor has once again hit a home room with this little charmer!"

THANK YOU SO MUCH LULU FOR YOUR GREAT WRITE-UP. MUCH APPRECIATED.

Reasonably priced to encourage you buying it.

AMAZON LINK

Confession Time

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It's been about 18 years since my last confession ...

"Yes ... 18 years. I have written all my sins down in a book ... I was a teenager at the time and one day I went out with a pretty young lady and afterwards ...

"You don't want to know the details about that? But it was a serious sin. You want me to move on to a more recent sin. But ... but ... what if it was a really bad sin which happened again with another girl-friend years later, and then once again ...

"I don't understand Father, it took me ages thinking over my past sins and I wrote them all down in this book ... It's about 90 pages or so!

"I understand ... if I committed a bad sin in the past, say a mortal sin, you don't need to know about it every time I did it. It's forgiven because there are other people waiting to confess.

"You don't even want to know about the sin involving an armadillo?

" Yes, an armadillo ... it's a leathery armour-shelled creature.

"Well, I worked at the zoo and I spray-painted an armadillo blue and told visitors it was a newly discovered species. When my boss found out he fired me.

"Oh ... more recent sins, like last week? Well, I was a bit lazy on Wednesday and did not go to work. I drank a bit too much on Friday night. And I took the batteries out of the remote control and told my wife it was broken; so we watched the football all night instead of Downton Abbey."

Praying to Saints and the "dead"

Today, I wish to talk about something that is perhaps a little controversial, especially amongst non-Catholics: praying to Saints to intercede for us, and praying for the dead.

As Christians, we believe that our souls live on after our death. And that we shall be with God in Heaven, unless …. OK – no need to go there for now.

So if our deceased relatives and friends are in Heaven with Jesus; should we pray for them as some people do?

They are already in a happier place than down here on earth. Are we praying for God to look after them? He is already doing that. Are we praying to them and asking them to intercede with God on our behalf?

Well, here’s a subject for a debate if there ever was one.

There are people who believe we should not pray to anyone but God alone. So praying to dead relatives (or Saints) to intercede for us is perhaps a step too far.

Or is it?

As Christians, we believe that people like Mary, the mother of Jesus, Joseph, his earthly father, Peter and the other disciples are all in Heaven with God.

Is it wrong therefore to speak to them and say something like: Peter, in your moments of torment and confusion, you denied Christ three times; I’m sure you understand how I feel right now that my Faith is weak. Please help me in increasing and maintaining my Faith. (Or words to that effect).

Is it wrong to relate to a particular person (Saint) who once lived on earth and to communicate with them as we would with God?

In doing so we are not by-passing God, going behind His back, to obtain favours that He would not approve of. We are perhaps, in our human way, relating to someone human like us, who has lived on this earth like us, who has found favour in the eyes of God.

Having spoken or prayed to these individuals, the next question is: Do they respond?

How do you explain the many instances of miracles that happened, and still do, in the name of Saints?

I am thinking about Lourdes, Fatima, Medjugorje as well as other miracles performed as a result of prayers said to people like Padre Pio, Pere Charbel Makhlouf and others.

Did these people have anything to do with the miracles performed? Did God grant the miracles of healings asked for in their name? Or did these people (Saints) themselves perform the miracles (i.e. their living souls)?

Remember, the Disciples performed miracles when here on earth – so why not perform them in Heaven?

Certainly questions for interminable debates. Yet, at the end of the day it all boils down to one’s beliefs and one’s Faith.

If we really believe that our departed relatives live on – then why not speak to them in prayer? Why not tell them what kind of day we’ve had? Why not ask them to speak to God on our behalf?

Is it truly that far-fetched a proposition?

Genesis - Without Phil Collins

GENESIS Chapter 2 Verse 18-19

God took some soil from the ground and made the birds and animals and brought them to Adam so he can name them.

At first, Adam was very hesitant, and as each animal passed in front of him he mumbled monosyllables: "Ant, bee, cat, dog, cow, pig ..." and so on.

In time, he became more adventurous and used longer words, "giraffe, horse, llama, tiger, panther, zebra ..." and so on.

But there were many animals and birds, not to mention all the fishes in the sea, still to be named. So Adam grew tired and he could hardly keep his eyes open. When the next animal walked by him he said "Hippopotamus amphibius or Choeropsis liberiensis or Hexaprotodon liberiensis depending on the size of the animal."

At which point God hit Adam on the head with a dead bat and said "Don't be too clever, lad!"

And that's how we got the word Hippopotamus.

Make sure you spell it correctly.

And don't abbreviate it to Hippo. For Adam's sake!

Christ's Prayer for us

Just before He was arrested, Jesus prayed for His disciples. (John 17).

Then He prayed for us – yes, you and me. He said:

“I pray not only for them, (the disciples), but also for those who believe in me because of their message. I pray that they may all be one. Father! May they be in us, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they be one, so that the world will believe that you sent me.” John 17: 20-21.

Let me repeat the last bit and write it in bold:

"May they be one, so that the world will believe that you sent me."

Two thousand years later Christians are still disagreeing with each other. The more we dispute on minor things the more we throw doubts and confusion on the Christian message to this world.

You may wish to Donate A Prayer HERE. 

Everything I Own

You sheltered me from harm 

Kept me warm, kept me warm 

You gave my life to me 

Set me free, set me free 

The finest years I ever knew 

Were all the years I had with you And... 

(Chorus:) 

I would give anything I own 

Give up my life, my heart, my home 

I would give ev'rything I own 

Just to have you back again 

You taught me how to love 

What it's of, what it's of 

You never said too much 

But still you showed the way 

And I knew from watching you 

Nobody else could ever know 

The part of me that can't let go 

And... 

(Repeat chorus) 

Just to touch you once again

Embarrassing Shopping

When you go shopping at the supermarket and you are pushing your trolley along, putting something in every now and then according to your shopping list, do you cover up some items, the cheap ones perhaps, with more expensive ones until you get to the checkout?

I do hate to meet people in the supermarket when I am shopping, don't you? I mean, people I know, not just ordinary shoppers.

You have to stop and say hello and pretend to be interested when all you want to do is get your shopping done and get out of the shop as quickly as possible. And worse still when you see their eyes looking downwards at your trolley and noticing that you bought some cheap item or other instead of the best brand available on the shelf. And you're such a miser that you bought the "buy one get one free" offer of coffee which is no more than burnt horse manure and not one coffee bean has been used in its making.

Or even more worse still, when I get to meet the priest at the supermarket and he eyes the brand of whisky I have just bought, or the quality wines and beer; and I always pretend that I don't drink really. "It's just in case someone visits us at home, Father. Honestly! And don't take that as a hint of an invitation. This whisky is mine and mine alone. You can have the cheap one when you visit us. I always decant it into an empty bottle with an expensive label on!"

Anyway, where is all this leading to, I hear you ask. Yes ... I can hear you all right.

Well, the other day I was at the supermarket and I bumped into a lady friend from work. She's a lively young thing of about thirty or so, always bubbly and laughing. We stopped and talked, about work ... what else. As we're standing there chatting I notice that in her trolley there were no fewer than six packets of condoms of various types and quality/flavour (???)

She had made no effort whatsoever to hide them under the large packet of cornflakes or the super big box of energy drinks cans.

Six packets containing five condoms each equates to quite a lot of exercise for her and her husband or boyfriend, I thought.

As we were talking inanely about work she noticed from my eyes that I had noticed what was lying there on top of her trolley.

She picked up a packet and said "These are our favourite brand, if you were wondering! Which ones do you use?"

As I said ... I hate meeting people in the supermarket. Whether I know them or not.

Which supermarket do you go to and when, so I can avoid meeting you?

... And then we die ...

OK ... let's face it. The two things we can't avoid are paying taxes and death. Although avoiding taxes can perhaps be illegal and get us in deep trouble. Death on the other hand is quite natural and comes to all of us sooner or later.

The problem is how do we dispose of the remains when a creature has died.

Normally, if you happen to have a small pet like a budgie or a hamster or such like, and it dies on you, the thing to do is to bury it in the garden and say a little prayer. It's a simple and perhaps gentle way to introduce young ones to the inevitability that we all die. You tell them that their budgie is now in Heaven where mirrors are bigger and never get dirty and you never have to clean the cage because in Heaven budgies no longer poo. Or their hamster is in Heaven enjoying the biggest wheel he could ever imagine.

If it is the goldfish that dies the simple way is to flush it down the toilet and say that it has now gone to a watery Heaven were water never needs to be changed and the tank is as big as eternity itself. Or lies to that effect.

A word of warning however: never try to flush large items down the toilet. I tried it with a dead cat once and we had the biggest blockage you could imagine. Cost us a lot in plumbers' fees.

Whatever you do; death must be treated with dignity at all times.

I remember once I went to the funeral of a friend of mine who throughout life was a clown at the local circus. When he died, they dressed him up in his clown outfit and painted his face just as he always looked when performing; big smile and all.

Although dignified in appearance, unfortunately his funeral was not so in execution. When they drove him to church the hearse he was in kept honking every few minutes, the engine went "bang" every now and then, the doors fell off, the steering wheel came off in the hands of Coco the clown driving it, and smoke came out the back.

When they laid him in his coffin they could not put the lid on because his big feet protruded upright from the box.

 

The funeral cortège consisted of other clowns following him, as well as an elephant, a zebra, a juggler juggling and a half-naked woman carrying a large python amongst other circus type people.

At the cemetery, when they lowered him into the ground, he kept popping up and down like a toy clown in a box.

Most people, of course, decide that when they die they will either be buried or cremated. Some decide to leave their bodies to science or donate their organs; which is a generous and laudable thing to do. Others prefer to be buried at sea. Whatever is decided it is always done in a dignified way.

How about being somewhat adventurous, however, and have a memorable funeral? Like being catapulted at speed from a mountain top and far away into the sea? Or being tied to a strong elastic band and bounced up and down from a platform into a shark infested pool? Inventive and very memorable I should say.

And one more last thing. When you get to meet Our Lord, as surely you will, take with you a book of jokes to put Him in a good mood before He pronounces on your fate.

Eating Healthy

I don't know what it's like where you happen to live, but over here in the UK we've been encouraged for some time by health experts to eat five portions of fruit and vegetables a day. This has lately been increased to seven portions a day because of inflation.

Personally, I think seven, or even five, portions of fruit and vegetables is far too much for anyone to take. Can you imagine munching on a carrot, an apple, a piece of broccoli or spinach, a banana perhaps, (that makes four) and a box of chocolates with fruit centers? That's only five! Still two more portions of this healthy food and I won't have any room for steak and french fries, or pizza or a burger in a large bun.

Obviously the thing to ask these health experts is what do they mean by a portion. Apparently it is the amount of fruit or vegetables which you can hold in the palm of your hand.

So having a large watermelon or a pineapple is OK then; is it?

But before we scoff at this advice given to us in order to lead long and healthy lives, let us look at the science behind the advice.

According to studies carried out by nutriologists and such like boffins the proof of healthy eating is overwhelming.

They had two groups of 50 people. One group of 50 was fed seven portions of fruits and vegetables daily for a period of five years; and the other group of 50 were totally deprived of these items for the same period.

At the end of the five years, out of the group who ate fruits and vegetables daily, two were hit by a bus and died, one drowned when he fell off a bridge, and another broke his leg when he fell off a ladder. The rest did not live any longer than those who did not eat fruits and vegetables, but it sure seemed like it.

Yet the scientists do not relent in their advice to eat fruits and vegetables.

They say the advantage of eating so much vegetation will make us live long enough for our families to despise us and put us in an old peoples' home.

And once there, the staff will care for us so that our relatives don't have to. And to humour us, the staff will no longer force us to have seven portions of fruits and vegetables daily; which will eventually shorten our longevity proving once again that scientists were right in recommending so much fruits and vegetables in our diets.

So there you are. You can either accept experts' advice on this subject or not. Personally, I think it is dangerous to read too much between the lines, especially if you are standing in a railway station.

The Wedding Reception

I know that you dear readers often smile, or laugh at, my misadventures. But last week's was one of my worst, I tell you.

Last Saturday we were invited at the wedding of some friends of ours. We had not seen them for some years, and they live a distance away - but hey ... we received the invitation by post and we accepted. After the marriage ceremony in Church we jumped in the car and drove to the appointed hotel where the reception was to take place.

I tell you ... this was the biggest and largest hotel in the whole world. If you could transplant it from its position and put it somewhere else it would cover the whole of Texas. That's how big it was. When we entered the main entrance hall it was so huge you could see for miles around. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling were as big as planets.

Anyway, as we entered the hotel, I decided to go to the rest room. I asked the family to go on ahead to the reception and I would join them later.

FIRST MISTAKE - When I got out of the rest room I took the wrong turning and went to the wrong reception. Did I tell you the hotel was huge? Well, there were two wedding receptions taking place at the same time; and I didn't know, did I? So I went to the wrong one.

As I entered this big hall where the reception was, I looked left and right for my family. Obviously, I could not find them, because they were not there. They were at the proper wedding reception we had been invited to; somewhere else in this big hotel.

I walked around the wedding guests trying to find my family and I bumped into two colleagues from work. A husband and wife. What were they doing there? Obviously, by coincidence, they had been invited to the other wedding taking place in this hotel.

They said "Hi" and we started chatting about work; what else. I thought I was at the right wedding reception and thought nothing was wrong.

We discussed various projects we were involved in and whether we would save money if we bought large paper clips instead of small ones and save by buying fewer of them. This of course depended on how many bits of paper we have to clip together at a given point in time. But who cares? Whilst talking I was surreptitiously looking left and right for my family and pretending to be engaged in conversation.

Moments later a man in uniform asked us in a loud voice to take our seats at the tables. He explained that there were no set places. We could sit where we wanted to. Tables were set for groups of six and there were plenty of them to sit at.

My work colleagues, thinking I was alone at the wedding, invited me to sit at their table. They said I could meet their new friends who were into nude skiing in the Alps. Quite invigorating, they said.

Thinking that my family was also sitting with other friends, I decided to sit with my work colleagues. The discussion, as expected, was about naked skiing and how liberated they felt coming down the mountains and airing their differences. I sat there politely wondering about the risk of frostbite to one's extremities with all that snow and icy winds blowing around the Alps. Perhaps I should have asked them whether they ski with all the other people, or whether there is an area reserved for nudists who want to expose their bits to each other as well as the elements. 

The meal was OK I suppose, except I did not particularly enjoy the ice cream for dessert. The very thought of all that naked skiing in the snow sent a chill down my spine.

It wasn't until the best man stood up to toast the newly weds that I realised I was at the wrong wedding. Did I mention it was a big hotel?

Our table was right at the end of the hall; so I could not see the top table very well from where we were sitting. So when the best man stood up and asked for silence, then he toasted the newly weds, I realised that the names he mentioned were not our friends' at all. I suddenly got a brain freeze. Must have been the ice cream, I suppose. For a moment I could not work out what was going on.

SECOND MISTAKE - I made an excuse to leave the table.

My first thought was that we'd come to the wrong hotel. No one had told me there were two weddings here in the same hotel, did they?

I went to the Reception Desk and asked if my family had left a message for me. They hadn't.

I phone home. No reply.

I phoned all the cell-phones in our family. All switched off. What's the use of switched off phones? I ask you.

For some stupid reason, I went back to the reception hall I'd just left and looked around. What's the point? I was at the wrong wedding anyway, so my family wouldn't be there would they? Unless they had made the same mistake as me; which they hadn't. At this point, conscience I suppose, I felt guilty for having eaten a meal at a wedding which I had not been invited to. Do I have to confess this, I thought. Well, I hadn't finished the ice cream, for reasons already mentioned. So that must diminish my sinful culpability somewhat. However, the conversation about naked skiing, and my imagination running wild at the time, must really tip the scales as far as sins are concerned.

I went back to the Reception Desk again and asked if there was a message for me. The kind assistant lady looked at me as if I was an imbecile and assured me that no one had left a message for me.

I asked her if this town had another hotel with a similar name. She smiled politely and said "No."

I mumbled incoherently that I'd attended a wedding meal just now and the married couple, for some inexplicable reason, had different names to what I expected them to have.

The Receptionist was a quick thinker and realised what had happened. She explained that there were two wedding receptions in the hotel at the same time; and politely directed me to where I should have been all along.

I found my family. The wedding meal at the reception I should have been at was already over and all the speeches had been done.

My family has still not forgiven me for all this. It wasn't my fault, I tell you.

Did I mention it was a huge hotel? And to make matters worse, the proper reception I should have been at did not have ice-cream for dessert. They had my favourite forest gateau which I missed by not being there.