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Friday, 7 August 2015

Swords in Sheaths

From 1 Chronicles 21:

And David lifting up his eyes, saw the angel of the Lord standing between heaven and earth, with a drawn sword in his hand, turned against Jerusalem: and both he and the ancients clothed in haircloth, fell down flat on the ground. 

No more protection....there is little protection now...God took His protection away from David for the sin of pride. So, too, many nations will now experience this withdrawal of protection.

Perhaps, if I use a metaphor taken from a writer concerning the times we are entering, this necessity for preparing will become more real for my readers. The young priest, Father Percy Franklin in Lord of the World saw a vision of the Tribulation.

The Anti-Christ was about to assume power.

The phrase which touches the depths of my being is this, "the angels themselves were bidden to put sword into sheath, and wait on the eternal patience of God, for the agony was hardly yet begun."

This is what is happening now in the West, especially in Great Britain, and in America. God is allowing evil to have its day in order for the Church and Her true members to be purified and made holy.

This is the time of saints. As I tell friends, there is no middle ground. One is either for Christ or against Him

Yesterday, some friends took me to a restaurant. I was appalled not only at the dress of the hostess, but by the tattoos on the arms of our waitress. Now, this restaurant for a long time has cantered to families. It is locally owned.

The tattoos revealed that this woman was into s and m sex. Obviously, she was hired with these on, as she is new. Obviously, the owner and manager do not care if she is this sort of person.

I do. I shall refuse future offers of dinner there.

This young woman represents the growing boldness of evil in our world. She represents the arrogance of sex and perverted sex.

She represents the fact that this sort of thing is now mainstream

Remember, I am in the Midwest and not in New York or San Francisco.

The angels have sheathed their swords. I tried to explain to my friends that one cannot go to a place like this. They disagreed, and said one can ask for a different table.

Moving to another place in the restaurant, to another table, does not solve the big problem. The big problem is the acceptance of sin as the norm.

The Mystical Body of Christ will be crucified. We shall bear on our bodies the Passion of Christ, finishing His suffering in the world.

From Lord of the World:

He saw the Body Mystical in its agony, strained over the world as on a cross, silent with pain; he saw this and that nerve wrenched and twisted, till pain presented it to himself as under the guise of flashes of colour; he saw the life-blood drop by drop run down from His head and hands and feet. The world was gathered mocking and good-humoured beneath. "He saved others: Himself He cannot save…. Let Christ come down from the Cross and we will believe." Far away behind bushes and in holes of the ground the friends of Jesus peeped and sobbed; Mary herself was silent, pierced by seven swords; the disciple whom He loved had no words of comfort.
He saw, too, how no word would be spoken from heaven; the angels themselves were bidden to put sword into sheath, and wait on the eternal patience of God, for the agony was hardly yet begun; there were a thousand horrors yet before the end could come, that final sum of crucifixion…. He must wait and watch, content to stand there and do nothing; and the Resurrection must seem to him no more than a dreamed-of hope. There was the Sabbath yet to come, while the Body Mystical must lie in its sepulchre cut off from light, and even the dignity of the Cross must be withdrawn and the knowledge that Jesus lived. That inner world, to which by long effort he had learned the way, was all alight with agony; it was bitter as brine, it was of that pale luminosity that is the utmost product of pain, it hummed in his ears with a note that rose to a scream … it pressed upon him, penetrated him, stretched him as on a rack…. And with that his will grew sick and nerveless.
"Lord! I cannot bear it!" he moaned….

Go to St. Augustine Press online and order the copy from that publisher.