It is now Lent

Tomorrow marks the beginning of Lent - traditionally people give up something for Lent. It could be chocolates, drinks, entertainment or something similar.

For Lent I am giving up caring.

What's the use of caring? 

What is the point of shaving and trimming my beard every day? It grows back again in a few days.

What's the use of wearing clean close every day? They get dirty again soon enough.   

What's the use of vacuum cleaning every day? The house gets dirty again in a few minutes. Now the vacuum cleaner stands in the corner gathering dust by itself. 

What is the point of watching the News on TV and getting upset at what's happening in the world? I can't control anything anyway.

So I decided to stop caring altogether about everything.

Other things I will not care about are whisky, chocolates and cookies and cakes and other goodies I like.

I'll give the money I saved to The Salvation Army, because I care about them and the work they do.

Trust Ahoy!

 

The Disciples were on a boat a distance from the land, buffeted by the waves because of the wind. They saw Jesus walking on water coming towards them. Peter asks Him, “tell me to come to you on the water.” Moments later Peter panics and begins to sink, and Jesus saves him. (Matthew 14:22-33 The story of Jesus walking on water is retold in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and John.)

We often criticise Peter's lack of faith; but how about the other Disciples? They did not trust Jesus at all did they?

When I worked for a large multi-national we often had "team-building" events. I hated them. On one occasion they asked us to stand on a box and lean back so that someone behind us would catch us from falling. I declined to take part. The man behind me was small and a weakling and I thought I'd flatten him if I fell on him. There's no way he would catch me. The organisers said I was no "team-player"; they decided I had leadership potential instead.

How about you? Would you have trusted someone to catch you? 

When things go wrong in life, for you or for someone you love, do you trust God enough to take care of the situation? Or do you blame Him for things going wrong and not taking care of you?

I don't want to pontificate about this. I've had several things go really wrong in my life and at the time I focussed more on the bad thing than thinking about God. I just wanted to get through the event, whatever the outcome, rather than trust in God. Suddenly, He did not feature in my thinking. I forgot about Him.

Someone told me that when we're in real difficulties and we pray to God, it is not necessarily a sign of despair, but a testament to our faith. We pray because we believe there's Someone listening and we're not just talking to ourselves.

The thing is, do we pray with full confidence that He will answer our prayers, or do we doubt He will answer the way we would wish things to be.

Do we trust God totally - or with conditions?

It is no point having faith in a Master who walks on water if we do not trust Him enough to follow Him.

Valentine's Day

 

.

 

She stood on the bridge at midnight
Her heart was all a quiver
She gave a little cough
And her wig fell down the river 

 

 

Rose's are red

Violet's are blue

Enid's are green

And Sophie's are pink with white dots

 

 (I've seen them on the washing line)

 

 

A certain young lady named Lilly
Likes knickers - light pink and frilly.
In winter she wears
Maybe three or four pairs,
To keep her from feeling too chilly.

 

 

Say it with flowers

And chocolates too

Say it with jewellery

Or a good meal for two

Say it from the heart

Say what you think

But never be careless

And say it with ink 

 

 

LOVE IS ...

Helping your wife change the tires and the oil in the car ...

LOVE IS ...

Putting on the subtitles on TV whilst she's talking ...

LOVE IS ...

Not forgetting to pick up some flowers from a grave on the way home from work ...

LOVE IS ...

Saying sorry when you don't even know what you're apologising for ...

LOVE IS ...

Pretending to like her mom and not hide her broomstick when she lands unexpectedly ...

LOVE IS ...

Reminding her not to vacuum clean the house when football is on TV ...

LOVE IS ...

Laminating a card with the words "I love you" so she can read it when in need of reassurance ...

LOVE IS ...

Eating that last piece of pizza to save her from getting fat ...

LOVE IS ...

Knowing left from right when she gives you directions when driving ...

LOVE IS ...

When she looks at a dress or coat in a catalogue and says, "I like that!" to cut the photo and give it to her ...

 

LOVE IS ...

If it's a choice between a new pair of shoes or a box of chocolates, buy her a pair of shoes made of chocolate ...

LOVE IS ...

Not saying her backside looks big no matter what dress she's wearing ...

 

Role Model

 

Whether you like it or not we are all role models.

There is always someone watching us and ready to copy what we do. It could be our children, grand-children, relatives, friends, colleagues or even neighbours or people we do not know. 

We really cannot help being a role model. It is not up to us.

What is up to us is whether we are a good or a bad role model.

Do we set a good example by the way we live, what we say, how we behave and how others see us?

Are we the life and soul of the party, or do we brighten up the place by just leaving it?

When we are dead and gone will people talk about who we were or what we have done? 

Consider this: Years ago, if you were a Christian people would respect you perhaps, or be polite to you; even if they did not agree with your beliefs. Today, they would most probably ridicule you behind your back and think you're a bit weird in believing in an old man with a beard sitting on a cloud trying to oversee the world.  

Being a role model carries a lot of responsibility. Have we by our example led other people to an eternity in Paradise ... or to the other place?

And here is the real test: If you were another person watching you, would you want to copy what you are doing in life and the way you live?

Christian Questions

 

Imagine one day you hear a voice saying, "Stop wars. Love one another as I have loved you!". You did not imagine it. You heard it clearly. You're about to go tell someone when your spouse comes in. "Have you heard that?" Now you know for sure that you did not imagine it.

Moments later you hear people talking outside. You go out of the house and you recognise your neighbours and a few other people. They heard it too. The voice was loud and clear and it came from above. Some think it was from a helicopter perhaps. Then someone looking at his cellphone says, "Hey ... it happened in another country too. My cousin just texted me!"

As the day goes on, the news soon spreads. It seems at the same time the message was heard all around the world. Every TV and radio station is reporting that each country heard the same message in their own language at the same time.

World leaders contact each other. Statements are issued by presidents, prime ministers, kings and other leaders from all round the globe. No one has an explanation as to what happened. Not even the Pope. Or any other religious leader.  

Have you ever wondered why does God not talk to us clearly and plainly as He did at the time of Moses and the prophets?  

INTRODUCING 

CHRISTIAN QUESTIONS (You wondered but did not ask.) 

ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8246647646

Whether we are Christians or not we have all from time to time asked ourselves, or others, questions about Christianity. Sometimes these may have been answered to our satisfaction by someone we love and respect, whereas at other times the questions have remained unanswered completely or satisfactorily.

Questions like: Who actually is God? Does He look human? Why can’t He speak to us clearly and loudly so we can hear Him? Did Jesus really have to die for us to be forgiven? Why does God let bad things happen to us? Does He test us to see how we will react? What do Heaven and Hell look like? Would we go there for eternity? Do ghosts exist?

Whilst no one has the real definitive answers to these and so many other questions, this book attempts to offer an explanation which you could consider and ponder or meditate about; or perhaps discuss with your friends.

Written in an easy to follow style and without preaching, each question is tackled in a friendly manner leaving you to decide whether you agree; or if not, why not.

With 70 questions discussed here, (with Bible references where appropriate), you will certainly have a lot of food for thought to ponder over and debate with your friends, or your Bible Study Group, or as a discussion topic at Religious Instructions classes for young people.

PAPERBACK AND KINDLE VERSIONS

AMAZON LINK HERE 

Peace

 

It's gone bananas

 

The world has gone bananas. Has it happened where you are?

I went to the shops today and all the bananas they are selling are straight - not a little bent as is traditional. It was the same at the greengrocers and the supermarket. Apparently, they are growing bananas straight these days so they can fit more in the boxes for transport. 

It's a little disconcerting. I'm not sure about eating straight bananas; I'm used to the bent shape as I eat it. 

This has given a whole new meaning to the saying "Going straight". It used to mean "live an honest life after being a criminal", now it means eating a straight banana.

What do you think? Have you seen a straight banana? Would you eat one or would you feel cautious in any way?

Nothing is as it used to be. Everything is changing. 

  

The Joys of getting older

They say people should grow old gracefully. What nonsense. As we grow older, now's the time to venture into a little mischief.

Men especially. They can get away with most mischief and people think they are cute because they are of a "certain age". They can be eccentric in the way they behave and no one seems to mind.

An old acquaintance of mine, was shopping at the supermarket. As we were at the check-out, a woman standing behind us, seeing a bag of "Woof Woof" dog food, asked him: "Do you have a dog?"

He replied: "No ... this is for me. I am on a dog diet. I probably should stop because the last time I ate some I ended in Intensive Care in Hospital."

She asked him to explain.

He said that essentially dog food is the perfect diet. He puts some "Woof Woof" pellets in his pocket and whenever he is hungry he eats a few.

She asked him if the dog food had poisoned him.

"No ..." he replied, "I just stepped off the curb to sniff a poodle's butt and a car hit me!"

As you grow older you can afford to be grumpy and get away with it. For example, the other day I had to go to the doctor for a routine check up. As I entered his insulting room he asked me nicely, "And how are you feeling these days?"

I replied, "What is it to you, you nosey beggar? Mind your own business!"

He was taken aback, but he sure will remember me next time I visit.

So there you are folks! Whether you are young or old. Act peculiar. Be a fruit cake. Be eccentric. Be remembered.

Take a dog lead with you for a walk. Stop by a tree and ask passers-by to help you get your dog down from the tree.

Take an old newspaper to the library and tell the assistant you have read it, can you change it for a new one.

Put a suppository in your ear and ask people to help you search for your hearing-aid.

Wear a lamp shade on your head and tell people to lighten up.

Eat a banana on the bus and throw the skin in someone's shopping bag. They'll get a pleasant surprise when they get home. 

Go to the supermarket and ask to buy one of those dividers they have on the conveyor belt check-out to separate customers shopping.

Don't buy anything from the supermarket and stand in line at the check-out. When it is your turn tell the shop assistant you bought nothing.

Go to the baker and ask him, "Have you got any bread rolls left?" If he says "Yes" tell him, "serves you right for baking so many!"

If you're a Catholic, like me, go to your priest for Confession  and ask him if he's heard any good rumours lately.  

Why not stick some feathers on a carrot and put it on your shoulder and tell people you're a vegetarian pirate?

Ask people in the street if they believe in free speech. If they say "YES" ask to borrow their cellphone to phone someone.

Knock on houses and tell people you're a door-to-door vacuum cleaner buyer. Do they have a vacuum cleaner for sale?

Here's another good trick. Dress properly and neatly. That should surprise the woman in your life.

Place a bobbin of white thread in the inside pocket of your jacket.

With a sewing needle push through a piece of the white thread through the shoulder of your jacket. Leave the thread hanging there on your shoulder. About two inches should do. It will look obvious on a dark jacket.

A woman is bound to be helpful and pick up the thread. As she pulls, more thread will come through from the reserve in your pocket. And more thread ... and more ...

Oh the fun I've had with the women in my life. 

Keep happy and enjoy what you like. An extra scoop of ice cream or a cake or whatever you fancy. 

Don't worry about tomorrow. It has already happened in Australia.

And don't forget to visit and/or submit articles to The Christian Lounge - whatever your age. 

Marriage Vows

 

Years ago when in France I was the best man at the wedding of my friend Yves Dominique Lefevre. On the day of his wedding he was very nervous; so to calm him down, before the ceremony in church, I took him to his favourite fast-food outlet for a quick snack.

He had frogs' legs, so he hopped all the way down the aisle to the front by the altar. He went at a snail's pace, but we got there at the end.

During the ceremony the priest asked him to say his vows. 

He said "Y A E I O U ..."

"Why Y?" I asked him.

He replied "Why Y? Be cos eet eez a vow in la belle France. Zee vows ere are Y A E I O U ... n'est ce pas?"

The priest was exasperated. Which is an unusual name to have, even in France. 

Can you imagine going through life as Father Exasperated, instead of being serene and humble.

Serene and Humble ... nice title for a TV Detective Series, don't you think?

Anyway, did you know in France they have extra bowels? Extra vowels too, it seems!

Who is Jesus?

 

Imagine you’re a person of authority in a Court of Law. 

The judge, the final arbiter, whatever you say happens. 

And they bring to you a man. He is fairly ordinary looking and they accuse Him of saying He is the Son of God. And this is blasphemy according to the Law and He should be put to death. 

Before you make such a momentous decision on the man’s life, you decide to do some investigations. 

You check and you find that this man has been around for about three years or so. He has been travelling up and down the land, and He has indeed said several times that He is the Son of God. He preaches to people and He tells them to repent from their sins and to follow the Way of the Lord. 

So you wonder about this and you think “Well, maybe if I can prove that this man is mad, I could let Him off. I could tell the people that He is insane, and they should let Him go, and I could warn Him not to repeat what He says because it would get Him into deep trouble”. 

So you check on the man’s sanity and you find that indeed He is not mad at all. Many people can testify to the fact that he has preached in the temples, and He has debated with religious elders, and shows no sign of being mentally insane whatsoever. Indeed, He is very wise. 

And you also find that this man seems to have some supernatural powers because He has healed many people up and down the country. The blind can see, the deaf can hear, the dumb can talk and the lame can walk. And there’s plenty of evidence for what He has done. There’s even a Roman Officer who can testify that He has healed. What better evidence do you want? 

And also, you understand, that apparently He has raised people from the dead. Now that’s very strange. No one has ever done that before. But again there’s plenty of evidence of that. There’s the family of a man called Lazarus who apparently had died and had been entombed for a few days yet Jesus raised him from the dead and raised other people from the dead. 

And when He preaches He says to people “Your Faith has saved you” whatever that means. And He heals them. 

He doesn’t charge at all for what He is doing. He just wants people to repent and follow the Lord. 

So you wonder whether He’s some sort of trickster, some sort of charlatan. So you order your soldiers to beat Him up and to rough Him a bit to see whether He admits to being a liar, a cheat. 

Your soldiers torture Him, beat Him up, they put a crown of thorns on His head because He claims to being a King of some sort. But after all that the man still does not say anything in His defence. 

So you give up. You think, “Well, He is one of their people. He is not one of us. So what’s it to do with me if they want to kill Him.” 

So you give orders for Him to be put to death. 

Your soldiers put a Cross on His back and ask Him to carry it all the way to the place where He is nailed to that Cross and left there to die. 

And just before He dies He asks God in Heaven, to forgive these people, because they don’t know what they are doing. 

What’s more strange is that three days later this very man is Himself raised from the dead.  And a lot of people see Him and can testify to his Resurrection. 

Now I wonder. Is this enough evidence that this man is really the Son of God? 

Because it is for me.

The long trip of coffee

 

It was a few years ago when my work colleague Jennifer and I drove to the city for an important meeting with some clients. We'd decided beforehand that she'd drive her own car, giving me the opportunity to read a financial report I needed for the meeting.

On the way back home Jennifer decided we stop at a cafe for some refreshments. She knew that this place served every kind of coffee you could wish for, and of course, she was right.

It was mid-afternoon when we set off again on the way home, Jennifer in the driving seat, and I sitting beside her making notes about the meeting and every so often seeking her advice and opinions on financial matters. She was a keen accountant equal to no one, so her views were invaluable.

An hour into the journey home we met a delay on the highway. All three lanes were full of cars as we slowed down to a snail's pace. Pretty soon we stopped in what turned out to be the longest car park I'd ever seen. Ahead of us, for as far as we could see, there were stopped cars in all three lanes. Behind us, within minutes, a longer queue of parked cars developed into eternity.

Every so often, we moved forward a few yards and stopped again. There'd probably been an accident ahead, or perhaps road works. There was no way of knowing. We were travelling at about 5 miles an hour if not slower.

And that's when the coffee came into play!

I felt I needed to go to the men's room; but unfortunately Jennifer's car did not have such a facility. At first I put up with the slight discomfort which, with every passing minute, grew into ... a more pronounced pain.

"Why are you fidgeting in your seat?" she asked me.

Embarrassingly, I told her. She sympathised by hoping we'd soon be out of this slow traffic.

Fifteen minutes later I became desperate. We'd been at a standstill for quite a while with cars parked all around us.

Jennifer said she had an idea. She got out of the car, opened the boot, and came back holding a small potty in her hand.

"We always keep this in the car for my young son," she said, "perhaps you could use it and then discreetly empty it on the road."

"What?" I asked in a panic, "I couldn't possibly ... besides, it's too small."

"I'm not asking you to place it on the ground and stand on the seat aiming at it!" she said irritably, "just do it sitting down."

"With you here beside me watching me? It's too embarrassing ... " I replied crossing my legs together.

"Forget it ..." she said with gritted teeth as she drove forward a few yards and put the brakes on suddenly turning my pronounced pain into extreme agony.

"What I meant ..." I said soothingly, "the potty is too small for me to use fully ..."

"Do it in stages ..." she replied increasing her level of irritability.

"I can't just turn it on and off like a faucet," I pleaded sheepishly.

And that's when I realised the reason for her uncharacteristic bad temper.

"And I can't exactly lift my dress up, pull down my underpants, and sit on the potty inside the car, can I?" she hissed under her breath, "or would you prefer me to sit on the potty in full view in the middle of the road? Besides ... what exactly have you got to hide? It's tiny size?"

She was obviously in the same coffee predicament as myself.

We drove silently for about twenty minutes when we eventually reached an exit on the highway. As soon as we left the highway I asked her to stop by some woodland and I ran behind a tree and some bushes to commune with nature.

Jennifer, on the other hand, was much more of a lady than I ever was, or will be. She got out of the car and asked me to drive.

I sped to the nearest diner a mile or so ahead where we welcomed a much earned comfort break; and then we sat down and enjoyed their variety of coffees.

Excerpt from my memoirs "AS I QUOTE MYSELF" 

CLICK HERE 

Frère Jacques Frère Jacques

 

It was a very hot summer and we were travelling in France on holiday in one of those big motor homes type vehicle. You know the one I mean? A large vehicle that includes a small bedroom, kitchenette and toilet facility. We had hired it as soon as we got to France and we intended to tour the countryside for a week or so in La Belle France!!! Olé.... sorry, we may have taken a wrong turning into Spain.

Anyway ... after our short diversion due to my wife reading the map upside down, and the GPS satellite lady telling me to go a different way, we were back into France and we stopped by the roadside in the middle of nowhere to consult the map properly. Isn't it awful driving with one woman telling you to go one way and the other the exact opposite?

I massaged my side due to a sharp elbow in my ribs from you know who whilst I was driving. 

We'd been stopped for a few minutes when there was a knock at the door of the motor home. I opened the door and standing there was a monk eating potato chips.

Not a chipmunk ... you've miss heard me ... I said a monk. One of those religious people who live in a monastery and grow their own vegetables and make wine and things for tourists to buy. You could tell he was a monk because he was wearing one of those dark brown Saint Francis of Assisi habits or uniform.

He must have been taken aback to hear me speak English. He stammered and said, "Excusez-moi ... eh ... veree soree ... Moi no speakee ze English good ... ere in ze car, (pointing to the car behind him, an old dusty Citroen), zere iz Père Martin ... e iz veree old and e wantz to do ze wee wee veree quicklee ... OK if e go in your toilette s'il vous plaît?"

Being a very charitable person I quickly replied, "Sorry mate ... the toilet is broken ... la toilette ... eet iz ze broken ..." 

I thought if I talked to him in a French accent he will understand and go away. 

It was then that I received yet another sharp elbow in the ribs. My wife, being more charitable said from behind me, "Oui ... oui ... monsieur ..." and opened the door widely to invite Père Martin to wee wee in our toilet.

Out of the car came Père Martin, followed by a nun called Sœur Celeste, (Sister Celeste), and Mère Supérieure Anna, (Mother Superior Anna). The original monk introduced himself as Frère Joseph. 

Would you believe it? They all wanted to use the toilet!!!

I have read about being charitable in the Bible, but there is nothing there about sharing your motor home toilet with complete strangers. 

What if they were not monks and nuns at all? What if they were gangsters running away from a crime they just committed and dressed like religious people? What if they wanted to steal our motor home? 

I found my old school Catechism in our luggage and I wanted to test their religiousness by asking them some questions. But yet another sharp elbow to the ribs put paid to that strategy.

"Oh ... c'est merveilleux," said Joseph the monk, "vous avez un ... eh ... ah au vin!"

I had heard of coq au vin, a French delicacy of cooking chicken with wine, so I thought he was asking me for some wine.

"No ... no ... I have no wine," I said, "no vin ... oui beer ... beer ... glug glug ... good English beer, not like the watery French stuff you have over here ... beer?"

"Au vin ... au vin ..." he repeated pointing to our kitchenette. 

"Ah ... oven? Yes this is an oven," I said having understood what he was on about.

"Voulez-vous des saucisses?" asked Mother Superior, "saucisses de venaison?"

"Venaison?" I repeated, "yes ... France is a great Nation ... so is Britain mind you. Have you ever been to Britain? You know ... God save our gracious Queen ..."

Mother Superior ignored me and opened the boot of the Citroen and brought out a large packet of dry sausages like salami or chorizos 

"Saucisses de venaison ..." she said, "c'est vraiment délicieux ..."

As she offered me her venison sausages the other nun brought out a huge panier type basket full of food ... French baguette bread, a variety of French cheeses, a couple of bottles of wine, and a lot of other goodies fit for a party. The two monks brought out a foldable table and chairs and they sat down ready for a picnic to which we were invited.

They stayed there for about an hour or so, speaking with us in broken English and French and enjoying their food and wine and our beer ... although they were not that keen on our black pudding, haggis and faggots which we had in the fridge.

As we were enjoying this lovely French picnic a police car drew up and two gendarmes came out. At first I thought perhaps we were parked in the wrong place, and no picnics were allowed where we were.

The two policemen conversed with the nuns and monks in their local language. They spoke quickly and I could not understand a word they said.

"They probably are criminals after all," I whispered to my wife, "we'd better move away!"

Then, without asking for permission or anything, the two policemen entered our motor home. I tried, as best I could, to speak to the monks about it. It transpired that the policemen thought the motor home belonged to the monks and they needed to use the toilet too!

After the policemen left, and we finished the picnic, the monks and nuns thanked us and left on their way.

Moments later I saw a big bull from a nearby field approach us slowly. We got in the motor home quickly and left, just in case he too wanted to use the toilet. 

The following day we took a deliberate detour and visited the monks' monastery some twenty miles away and spent the day there visiting.

Oh ... and to return the favour, we used their toilets. I went more than once to make up for the four of them using ours!

 

Two Stories Wide

 

.

 

Come out of the darkness
Don't hide in the night
Come out in the sunshine
And we'll be alright

 

Life's too long to worry
And it's too short to cry
And it's too deep to measure
And it's two stories wide

 

There's your side and my side
Which side do you need?
Both sides make you lonely
And make your heart bleed

 

Life's too long to worry
And it's too short to cry
And it's too deep to measure
And it's two stories wide

 

Life's too long to worry
And its too short to cry
And its too deep to measure
And its two stories wide

 

Life's too long to worry
And its too short to cry
And its too deep to measure
And its two stories wide

 

Willie Nelson

Waylon Jennings

Johnny Cash

Kris Kristofferson

 

The Highwaymen

Drum

 

I really like to beat the drum. The very big drum you carry with you when marching in a band. Great banging sound!

I sang Christmas Carols with the church choir last year. They didn’t like my rendition of “Silent Night” on the big drum.

I also find the big drum helps me tell the time.

When I wake up in the middle of the night and I can’t find my watch I just open the window and bang on my big drum.

Someone is sure to shout “Who’s the idiot banging a drum at three in the morning?” 

Here's a recording of me practicing playing the drum.

Jesus wept

 

Jesus wept. John 11:35

It is said this is the shortest verse in the Bible. It records a moment of great sadness for Jesus that He showed His human emotion.

To put it into context. This happened when His friend Lazarus had died.  John 11:3-7, 17, 20-27, 33-45

Lazarus' sisters had sent word to Jesus that their brother was very ill. Jesus waited for two more days before He went to where Lazarus lived. By the time He arrived, Lazarus was dead.

His sisters were distraught and in their grief they reprimanded Jesus for not arriving earlier. "Had you been here he would not have died!" they said. The crowd gathered by the tomb and was also grieving.

Jesus asked "Where have you laid him?" "Come and see, Lord," they replied.

Jesus wept. John 11:35  

I guess many people over the years have assumed that Jesus wept because His friend Lazarus had died. But is this really so?

Remember ... when Jesus was first told of Lazarus' illness He said, "this illness will not lead to death." He waited for a couple of days to go to Lazarus' home to make sure that he was really dead and not as some would assume that he was asleep or in a coma. 

Jesus knew that He was going to resurrect Lazarus from the dead. So why did He weep?

It was not because of His friend's death.

It was because of the incredulity of his sisters and of the crowd there. Despite all they had heard and seen Jesus perform whilst with them; they still doubted Him and His power.

That's why He wept.

Do we have cause to make Him weep today?

Oh Fortuna

BEFORE YOU PLAY 

VOLUME LOUD

PLAY TWICE

ONCE LOOKING AT VIDEO

ONCE READING LATIN LYRICS 

"O Fortuna" part of the collection known as the Carmina Burana.
(Lyrics from Wikipedia).

O Fortuna velut luna statu variabilis, semper crescis aut decrescis; vita detestabilis nunc obdurat et tunc curat ludo mentis aciem, egestatem, potestatem dissolvit ut glaciem. Sors immanis et inanis, rota tu volubilis, status malus, vana salus semper dissolubilis, obumbrata et velata michi quoque niteris; nunc per ludum dorsum nudum fero tui sceleris. Sors salutis et virtutis michi nunc contraria, est affectus et defectus semper in angaria. Hac in hora sine mora corde pulsum tangite; quod per sortem sternit fortem, mecum omnes plangite!

O Fortune, just like the moon thou art variable, always dost thou wax and wane. Detestable life, first dost thou mistreat us, and then, whimsically, thou heedest our desires. As the sun melts the ice, so dost thou dissolve both poverty and power. Monstrous and empty fate, thou, turning wheel, art mean, voiding good health at thy will. Veiled in obscurity, thou dost attack me also. To thy cruel pleasure I bare my back. Thou dost withdraw my health and virtue; thou dost threaten my emotion and weakness with torture. At this hour, therefore, let us pluck the strings without delay. Let us mourn together, for fate crushes the brave.

The Christian Lounge - GRAPHIC

 

Greetings everyone,

As you know, we have recently launched a new website called The Christian Lounge where you are all invited to visit and also contribute articles by writing to enquiries@holyvisions.co.uk

Our friend and contributor Myra Guca (Mevely) suggested that perhaps we should have a graphic we can put on the side-bar of our Blogs advertising and promoting The Christian Lounge.

What a great idea, Mevely. Thank you. The Christian Lounge can have branches everywhere and attract more visitors.

My "techie" got on to it. The graphic/image is shown above. You can download it and save it on your computer

Now - how to put it on your Blog if you wish to? Here are his instructions:  

When you are logged into Blogger click on Design at the top right of your screen.

Then click on Layout from the list on your left. 

Then click on add a gadget.

Click on Image from the list you are offered.

On the Title entry write: The Christian Lounge

On the Caption entry: leave blank 

On the Link entry: Copy/paste this:  https://thechristianlounge4u.blogspot.com/

 Scroll down to: Upload image from your computer.

Click on Browse and put the photo from your computer on to Blogger.

Click the slide on shrink to fit to the right.

Click SAVE.  

Click again the SAVE icon (looks like a floppy disc) at the bottom right of the screen.

Now go to your Blog and the graphic should be on your side-line bar.

Any problem please write to my "techie" at enquiries@holyvisions.co.uk 

Thank you and God bless.

Refused Communion

 

Someone wrote to my office (enquiries@holyvisions.co.uk) saying that they attended a Catholic wedding recently and just before Communion the priest said that non-Catholics should not take Communion but can have a blessing instead. That person was hurt by this and wrote to me about it.

Let me explain.

Catholics believe that when we take Holy Communion it is actually the body and blood of Jesus that we take. It is the real presence of Christ in the Communion that we take. Some Catholics have difficulty in believing this; but let us park this aside for a while.

Catholics take their teaching from the Gospel of John Chapter 6 where Jesus says that unless we eat His flesh and drink His blood we will not have eternal life. (John 6:51-58).

Jesus says this several times, so much so that some of His listeners decided not to follow Him any more and they left. Jesus did not stop them. He did not call them back and tried to explain saying it was all a figure of speech or symbolism. In fact, He also asked the twelve Disciples, "And you - would you also like to leave?"

Also, at the Last Supper, Jesus repeats His claim that Communion is His body and blood.

So, was the priest wrong to ask non-Catholics not to take Communion?

As already mentioned, Catholics believe that the total substance of bread and wine are changed into the substance of the body and blood of Christ at the moment of Consecration during Mass. That is to say, the bread and wine taken at Communion are no longer such but they are the body and blood of Christ. 

Before giving Communion the priest says "The Body of Christ ... The Blood of Christ"; and the individual responds "Amen" - meaning I agree.

It would be wrong, therefore, for a non-Catholic to say "Amen" when in their heart they do not agree and believe it is all symbolism. How would God view that individual? In a way, the priest is "protecting" that individual from being un-truthful to the Lord. By denying Communion the Catholic Church is not excluding an individual for not being Catholic, but it is aiming to re-affirm their true belief in the eyes of God.

What about me? What do I believe? 

Here's what I think. 

That event was important enough for John to record it in details. He underlines the fact that Jesus repeated His claim more than once; and John also points out that some people could not accept what Jesus said and left.

Had I been there that day, would I too have left or would I have accepted Christ's Word for what it is? I honestly do not know what I would have done.

But what about today; so many years later? I honestly accept what Jesus said for what it is. I do not understand it but I believe it because it is recorded that He said it. Call me a coward if you wish. Believing just as an insurance policy. I guess when I meet Jesus one day I'll say, "I tried to believe as best as I could within the limitations of my intellect".

THE CHRISTIAN LOUNGE LINK 

Nobody's child

“Father we’ve got Tom home at last …” said the voice at the end of the phone, “we’d be ever so pleased if you could come and meet him some time today … we could also discuss the Baptism arrangements …”

Father Ignatius put the phone back on its cradle and praised the Lord for answering long standing desperate prayers.

The call was from Gerry Hedge. He and his wife had been planning to start a family for many years. They’d been for several medical tests both at the local hospital and at a specialist hospital in London and had seen several consultants and various doctors over the years. They had even traveled abroad for special medical treatment and tests but finally they had to accept that they could not have children.

After the heartache and hurt slowly died down they decided to adopt instead. But even that was an event fraught with many difficulties. The Authorities made them jump through many bureaucratic hoops and checked and double-checked every aspect of their lives, relations and friends. They checked their annual income, future prospects, suitability for adoption, housing standards and so on and so forth for an interminable period of time.

Father Ignatius was asked to act as a character referee for the couple and he was interviewed in no fewer than three separate occasions.

And at last … at long last … they had managed to legally adopt little Tom and they had now brought him home.

Their joy was immeasurable and little Tom would indeed be loved as no child has ever been loved before …

Father Ignatius left his office and rushed to the local shops to buy a little present for the new child in the Hedge’s household.

And that evening he was indeed well pleased and honored to visit the happy couple and be the first to meet their new son and to discuss the forthcoming Baptism arrangements.

As he parked his old car next to the sparkling new top of the range model currently driven by Gerry Hedge, Father Ignatius stopped for a while to admire the view.

He’d been to their mansion in the countryside many times, and had indeed enjoyed their lavish hospitality on several occasions, but surely never had he visited them for such a joyous and happy event as this time.

He walked slowly up the graveled path towards the front door and rang the bell. Moments later the door was opened by Stuart the butler who led him to the main living room.

Lana and Gerry Hedge greeted him warmly as he sat down in his usual armchair.

Little Tom was sitting on the floor facing the TV and listening intently. He was about one year old with light blond hair and the most beautiful face you could imagine.

Father Ignatius leaned a little forward in his armchair and handed Tom a little package containing his present, “Hello Tom … look what I got for you …” he said in his gentle soothing voice.

The little boy did not react whatsoever and continued staring at the TV set.

“He can’t see you Father …” said Lana calmly.

Father Ignatius was taken aback at what he’d just heard and moved backwards in his chair still holding the package and looking at Lana in puzzlement.

“He is blind Father … he’s born blind … something to do with his mother’s addictions …” continued Lana calmly.

“I see …” said the priest, and quickly bit his lip at the inappropriateness of what he’d just said.

“He’s been at the adoption society since he was born … and no one had ever even bothered to consider him …” said Lana.

Gerry Hedge sat in the sofa saying nothing. Lana continued.

“I fell in love with him the moment I saw him …” she said, “even though the staff at the adoption society tried to discourage us … saying that he’ll require a lot of care and attention …”

“We’ll make damn sure he gets all the care and attention he needs …” declared Gerry sitting beside her, “he’ll go short of nothing I assure you Father … we’ll make sure of that … mark my word!”

“I am sure you are right …” said Father Ignatius “and I look forward to having him as one of the Altar servers in due course …”

“Ah … but first we must discuss the Baptism arrangements …” said Gerry standing up, “now what will it be Father … a glass of French Champagne or the best 12 years old single malt whisky to ever leave Scotland?”

 

MORE FATHER IGNATIUS STORIES HERE

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MORE FATHER IGNATIUS STORIES HERE 

The Oven-U-Wear

A friend of mine is quite an inventor and has now developed Oven-U-Wear.^TM

As the name implies, this is an oven which you wear.

Or, to be more precise, it is a jacket or overcoat which acts like an oven. It has many pockets, both on the inside and outside, and through a battery operated system it heats up each pocket individually to the temperature you desire.

For example, you could be on your way to work with a potato in each armpit cooking gently. By lunchtime, hey presto ... baked potatoes!

Or, on your way home after a hard day's work you could be carrying a chicken on your back roasting gently, whilst the vegetables are in your side pocket and a cake up your sleeve! Once you're home you can sit down to a hot meal in seconds!

In the morning you can eat your porridge from your pocket whilst travelling on the bus or train. And have toast popping out of your collar straight into your mouth. Delicious with some honey or jam which you'll keep in your trousers which act as a refrigerator.

The problem with the trousers is that I have now grown icicles where I really don't want them!

And when they defrost I have a rather embarrassing tell-tale patch at the front of my trousers. Not to mention a cold wet bottom when I sit down.

The other problem I found is that with a roasting chicken on my back I am usually followed by a pack of dogs salivating at the mouth. 

In winter I am nice and warm at the top of my body with my oven jacket, and freezing my un-mentionables underneath with a fridge in my pants. Whereas in summer I am over-heating my head whilst my manhood is rather cool.

All in all, whilst this invention is rather cool, (modern slang meaning good, great, fantastic); in reality it needs a few more refinements.

The other day a short circuit sent an electric shock up my backside and my hat flew off !!!

THIS IS AN EXCERPT FROM 

"SPEAKING FROM MY SOCK" 

Paperback & Kindle version 

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I burnt her frilly underwear

 

There were six of us sharing a large apartment. We were young. We had parties every weekend. We had joy, we had fun.We had seasons in the sun. But the hills that we climbed; were just seasons out of time. Whatever that means.

Anyway, one weekend we played HOT or COLD. I don't know if you're familiar with the game. One person hides something, and the others try to find it. If they get near the item you say warm, luke warm, hot and so on until they find it. If they're away from the item you say cold, colder and so on.

We'd been drinking. We were happy and perhaps light-headed. It was my turn to hide an item. One of the girls thought it would be a great laugh to hide her underpants!

Whilst they all had their eyes closed, I sneaked into the kitchen and put the pants in the oven.

They were useless at finding them. They were miles away. Might as well be in the next country or continent. I kept saying, "Cold ... Colder ... Even more colder ... Coldest ... Freezing ... Polar Regions Freezing Temperature!" But they could not find the girl's undergarment.

Then there was a funny smell from the kitchen. And black smoke. The smoke alarm went on shrieking.

How was I to know that someone had put something in the oven to bake?

I know you're blaming me right now!

I doubt the owner of the pants ever forgave me. They were sheer delicate see-through. She had bought them for her boy friend ... Not for her boy friend to wear ... For her to wear and ...

Oh go on ... blame me as usual.

PLEASE CLICK HERE 

Who is God?

 

Who is God? 

In most peoples' imagination, God is an old man with a beard, wearing a toga or similar garment as they did in ancient Rome or Greece, and sitting on a throne on a cloud somewhere.

This is because that's how the painters of masterpieces portrayed Him. No doubt taking their clue from Genesis 1:27 where it says: "So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them."

We, being humans, and perhaps somewhat arrogant, interpreted this to mean that if we look humans then it follows that God looks human too. And if He has always existed, (A Ω - Alpha and Omega - Jesus says, "I am the Alpha and the Omega" in the Book of Revelation, specifically in Revelation 1:8, 21:6 and 22:13. In this text, Jesus identifies Himself as the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, symbolizing that He is the beginning and the end, and eternally exists as the Almighty); therefore it follows that He is old and has a beard. 

In reality, the quotation from Genesis 1:27 does not mean that God looks like a human. It means humans were created with a unique likeness to God in their moral, spiritual, and intellectual nature, not in physical form. This likeness is often interpreted as the capacity for reason, creativity, free will, and a spiritual dimension.

The last bit is important - "spiritual dimension".

What this means is that God is a spirit. (And so are we - but more of this later).

There is around us an invisible spiritual world which we cannot see. It is inhabited by invisible spiritual living "beings" whom we call spirits. For example angels; they are invisible spirits. Also the souls of people who have departed before us.  

We are both visible in human form and invisible in our spiritual form - our soul.

As C S Lewis described it: You don't have a soul. You are a soul; you have a body.

God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are invisible living spirits in this spiritual world that exists around us.

And of course, so is Satan and his demons. Remember, Satan was an angel who rebelled against God.

So, having established that God is a living spirit, we ask the question again: Who is God?

Jesus described God as His Father, and our Father. He is a loving, omnipotent, all-knowing, creator God, Who created the universe and all that is in it, including us humans. His desire is that we all, having lived for a period here on earth, would return to Him and live with Him for eternity in Heaven. That is to say, our soul, once the body we have has perished at death, would keep on living for eternity in Heaven.

The invitation to go to Heaven is open for all of us. We need to respond to it. (RSVP).

God wishes us to make the conscious decision to go to Heaven once our body dies. He has given us the free will to make that decision for ourselves without any force or coercion whatsoever. 

No one goes to Heaven against their will.

How does one go to Heaven?

"Not everyone who calls me 'Lord, Lord' will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only those who do what my Father in Heaven wants them to do." Matthew 7:21.

"For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in Him shall have eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day." John 6:40.

More readings at The Christian Lounge - CLICK HERE 

Much Ado About Pants

 

I was at a posh hotel preparing to give an important speech to a group of managers about our budget plans and future forecasts. I was the last speaker at the Conference as everyone was ready to leave.

I was in my hotel room getting dressed in my best suit ready to face my audience. As I put my leg in the trousers my foot somehow caught the inner turn-up of the trousers and tore into the stitching. The trousers were not torn but obviously with the turn-ups loose one trouser leg was now much longer than the other.

How can I fix it in such a short time? 

 

Needle and thread … that’s what I need. What’s the use? I wouldn’t know what to do if I had any anyway.

What else can I use? Pins … must find some pins … there aren’t any anywhere.

How about paper clips? I have some in my briefcase … no … they don’t hold the turn-ups very well. 

What if I use the sticky-tape to tape the turn-up back in place? It doesn’t hold very well. It falls down again. 

Aha … my stapler!!! I can staple the turn up back in place.

I raise my foot on the chair and click … click … click … click … a few staples later and the turn-ups are back in place. 

I go to the basin to wash my hands.

As I open the faucet the water rushes into the basin, swivels round at speed, and splashes all over the front of my trousers with embarrassing results.

I can hardly stand in front of all these people giving the impression that I have been caught short? 

I try desperately to dry the trousers with a towel but the large stain on my front is still clearly visible.

Even if I button up my jacket the wet stain is still there for all to notice.

Aha … I remember seeing a hair-dryer in one of the drawers.

Plug it in … stand in front of the mirror and blow hot air on the stain. Hopefully it will dry quickly and in time for me to go and give my speech.

Wow … this hair-dryer is hot!!!

And noisy too!!!

So noisy that I did not hear the hotel maid knocking at the door and entering the room.

She is standing there behind me watching as I get forever hotter. One can only imagine what she’s thinking.

“Eh … my trousers …” I mumble, “they’re wet … I’m trying to dry them … I got them wet with water … from the basin …” 

 

“I understand Sir,” she replies with a smile, “have you tried the trouser-press? If you fold the trousers in here the heat will soon dry the … water.”

I did not like the pause before she said “water”. She’s got the situation all wrong.

She pulls out the trouser-press from its compartment and switches it on. “It is ready now Sir!” she says with a smile.

“Eh … I think it is better if you now leave,” I mumble again, “I’ll take it from here!”

“Of course Sir!” she smiles broadly as she leaves the room.

I try to take the trousers off in a hurry … drat … why is this stupid trouser leg stuck? 

 

I nearly tripped standing on one leg and fell back on the bed … drat and double drat … the leg turn-up is stapled to my sock … 

 

How did I staple the trousers to the sock whilst I’m still wearing it? Would you believe it? 

Too late to untangle it! I took off the trousers and sock and put them in the trouser press.

Whilst standing there another maid comes in without knocking to clean the room.

 

"Sorry Sir, I thought you had already checked out of the hotel!" she says as she leaves. 

I open the press and put the trousers back on in a hurry … GEEEEEEE … that is HOT!!!!!

I hop from foot to foot wandering whether I have done myself a mischief.

Later that afternoon whilst I was checking out at the hotel reception with my boss the chambermaid passes by and asks me “Did your trousers dry OK Sir?”

My boss looks at me with raised eyebrows and says nothing.

 

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