Tuesday, 24 January 2017

The Belief in Disbelief


This discussion is likely to become somewhat tortuous. But please hang in there. Try to follow my argument and, if you disagree, please write in and put me right.

We are at this point in time Christians. By whatever means or way we came to this point, be it cradle Christians, born and raised this way, or by conversion to Christianity, or whatever other route we took in life to get to where we are now; we are essentially Christians.

By this we mean basically that we believe in God. We believe that Jesus is His only Son, born of a virgin as a human here on earth, albeit He is/was God, He died for us, raised from the dead and went up to Heaven. And when there He sent us His Holy Spirit. These are the very basics of our beliefs.

Now some of us take these beliefs, put them at the back of our mind, and get on with our busy lives. Getting to work, raising a family, looking after our financial affairs, making sure we have enough savings for when we're ill or for old age, taking the trash out every day ... that sort of thing. Life takes over and, although we believe, we still have to be realistic and get on with life.

Some of us, however, take our beliefs even more to heart. They are central to our lives, central to everything we do, they form and guide our every actions in life, to the point of our very existence; breathing even. Our beliefs are ourselves. We are our beliefs. We do not spend time fretting and worrying about the minutiae of life. God exists, He will take care of us, and of our needs.

Such a path of total unwavering beliefs, admirable and laudable though it is, is full of dangers and pitfalls in itself. Our total 100% reliance on our beliefs can in itself, at some point, lead one at times to question those very beliefs which have for so long shaped and formed our lives, our very existence, what we are now and what we have become.

We ask ourselves, is this all real? What led me to the point that I believe what I believe? What evidence is there for it? What proof? I believe through blind Faith; but what if it's all a fallacy, a myth, a man-made story and set of rules just to keep society in check. Our basic beliefs, the existence of an almighty god, having a son of virgin birth, his death, resurrection and the sending of his spirit are in themselves unbelievable.

That point of questioning to the point of doubts of our very beliefs, unbelievable as it seems, does occur to many of those who have followed a hitherto path of unwavering belief.

How is this so?

The devil, who does exist, make no mistake about that, takes our very unwavering belief as an opportunity to cast doubt and confusion in our mind. For he it is who, unaware by us, sheds the odd flash of questioning and uncertainty in our minds. It is he who aims to lead us astray from our beliefs and faith. After all, what is the point of him tempting those who don't believe? They are already in his camp. It's the others, those who believe, that he wants to recruit.

Usually, those who do not believe in God don't have any doubts about their beliefs. Have you noticed how un-believers are always certain of their position? They believe they know for sure that God does not exist and are eager to prove it to you.

I often wonder about all the Saints we are told and have read about. Were they all 100% totally dedicated to their beliefs and faith and were they all totally unwavering throughout their lives?

The answer is no. Most of them, if not all, had their moments of doubts, their moments of confusion and temptations. But they kept trying, through prayers, dedication, and perhaps outright stubbornness, they kept going on in their beliefs despite all the difficulties these gave rise too. No doubt, they were sinners too. Like you and me. But they kept on trying.

Despite their failings, their short-comings, and their weaknesses - Saints are sinners who kept on trying.

Hopefully ... like you and me.

Sunday, 22 January 2017

Song saves 20 babies

BACKGROUND - Father Francis Maple is a Franciscan monk who celebrated his 50th Anniversary as a priest in 2013.

Some years ago Father Francis recorded a Pro-Life song entitled A Cry from the Heart and was released originally on casette tapes (later on CDs). He says on the tape cover "I would like to dedicate this song to any young girl or woman who may listen to it and decide not to have an abortion. Life is God's gift."

Thankfully, the song has saved many babies from abortion. Their pregnant mothers heard the song and decided not to go ahead with abortion.

Years later Father Francis met a young boy who told him that his mother heard the song when pregnant and decided not to have an abortion. The boy said he owed his life to the priest. Father Francis has received over 20 other similar testaments of babies being saved.

A copy of the tape came into my posession some time ago and it was in poor quality. Someone helped me to restore it and put it on You Tube. I've put other Father Francis Maple songs on You Tube - with his permission of course. Check them out HERE.

Father Francis has sung in public over the years (and still does) in malls, shopping centres and at his own concerts and has raised over £1m for charity. He has also written several books (sermons, cooking recipes, jokes), and has contributed (and still does) to many newspaper columns and Catholic newspapers and magazines. He spends a lot of time travelling throughout the UK leading Missions in various Catholic churches.

I hope you enjoy this video recording of "A Cry from the Heart" and that the song continues to save many babies from abortion. Hopefully readers here will like the song and write about it.

Mommy keep me safe, mommy keep me warm

Handle me with care, mommy help me to form.

I am ten weeks old, and I know the time will come
when you will give birth to me.

The gift you gave to me are a pair of bright blue eyes
So some day I will see you smile and love me.

I’ve already got my arms and a little podgy nose,
And at the end of my feet I’ve got five little toes.

I look forward to my life, ice cream and slimy snails,
teddy bears and little fairy tales.

Going for walks in the park
Running home before it’s dark.
And being tucked into bed with a kiss.

Where are we going today?
Am I in a boat or bus?

Why are we lying down?
Being drawn on four wheels?

And we go through the door
and there’s people dressed in green.
Everything seems so strange and so clean.

Mommy if they hurt you just let out a scream
and I know someone will come to help you and me.

Mommy what’s going on I am starting to cry
Come quickly they are forcing me to die.

They are killing me mommy, they are pulling me apart
My arms and my legs and now they’re at my heart.

And I won’t see the sky, or the grass or the trees.
and I won’t see the moon, or feel the breeze.

I love you mommy dear, you know I really do
But I only wish you could have loved me too!

Sunday, 15 January 2017

The Inner Views of ...

VICTOR S E MOUBARAK

Saturday, 14 January 2017

Praying

 
Father Ignatius sat in the empty church right up front by Our Lady’s statue. He watched for a while the votive candles burning at her feet and then started his Rosary.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, these words came whirling fast into his head, totally uncontrollable and spontaneous, yet as clear as if they were spoken to him there and then.

“How shall I pray, Lord?” said the words in Father Ignatius’ head.

“Shall I beg over and over again for You to hear me? Is that what You want of me?

“Shall I plead for ever like the widow to the judge until she was heard?

“How do You want me to see You? As an over-powerful ruler demanding His own way?

“How do You want me to love You? As one loves a monster, with immense fear lest I arouse your anger and wrath?

“Shall I fear You for ever and cower at the thought of your fury?”

Father Ignatius stopped praying and made the sign of the Cross. He took a deep breath … and yet the words continued in his mind … somehow gentler now … somehow softer …

“Love me as a child … with no fear and no dread.

“Trust me as a child trusts his parents when they give him food and drink.

“A child never questions whether the food is good to eat … he takes it in trust and asks for more.

“He never doubts when led by his parents … he follows eagerly holding hands along the way.

“Love me as a child … and I’ll treat you with love and compassion.

“Ask me as a child … and I’ll give you what’s good for you in good time.

“Trust me as a child … and I’ll show you the way …

“No matter how difficult your journey ahead, I’ll always be there … guiding you into eternity … with Me.”

The words suddenly stopped as quickly as they’d started. Yet their message remained with the priest for a long time.

Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Welcome to hell



Monday, 9 January 2017

Murder by TV

What a waste of time. I have just wasted a whole hour of my life watching a Murder Mystery program on TV and at the end I am none the wiser.

I want to protest to someone but the chances are that if I write a stiff letter, (on cardboard), to the TV company, the producer, the main actors, or even the writer; none will take me seriously.

Instead, I am writing to you for some sympathy, at least.

No sooner the program started that a man was found murdered in suspicious circumstances. Has there ever been a murder in not suspicious circumstances? I ask myself.

The victim was shot in the chest and buried in the back garden of the local vicarage.

At first the police suspected suicide. Then they looked into the hole where the man was found and decided someone had put him there.

Who was it? Who tried to bury the victim and did such a bad job of it?

Was it the local vicar who has a penchant for licorice sweets?

The church housekeeper who keeps a hamster in her bedroom?

The local spinster librarian, (you always need a spinster in a murder mystery), who always looks from behind the curtains as to who is going where and with whom and at what time. 

Or was it the pub landlord who often waters down his beer to make it go further and thus cheat his customers who have no other place to go for a drink because it is the only pub for a million miles around; unless that is they prefer coffee and English tea with scones and cream and strawberry jam, in which case they would go to the Ye Merry Garden Tea Emporium run by Matilda Rowbottom and her lodger/boyfriend/lover/lothario/seducer/Romeo/Casanova/Don Juan waiter and chef named Ivor Risotto who hails from Scandinavia yet is from Welsh descent?

The police have so many potential suspects that they do not know where to start. They start making enquiries and questioning all and sundry when, (surprise), the vicar is found dead in an industrial washing machine and is thus eliminated from their enquiries; which is a pity since he was the main suspect. At least it was a clean death at 40 degree washing temperature and a spin dry cycle of 800 revolutions per minute.

So the police turn their attention to the church housekeeper whose job includes cleaning the church vestments. But this proves to be a wild goose chase because the lady in question was at the library at the time borrowing a book entitled "How to murder people using a hamster as bait."

By the time the police go to the library to confirm the housekeeper's alibi they found the librarian dead in the Zoology Section half-eaten by a crocodile which escaped, or was released, from the local zoo.

In any case, the church housekeeper is herself found dead in a barn full of hamsters pretending to be Guinea pigs.

The pub landlord is killed when a barrel of beer fell on his toe resulting in him bleeding to death.

Matilda Rowbottom sells the Ye Meery Garden Tea Emporium to a French woman called Madame Leggert.

And Ivor Risotto falls in love with Madame Leggert's daughter only to discover that she wants to live in Spain instead.

There is no one else to suspect for this series of murders or mysterious deaths except the many cockroaches who inhabit the Tea Emporium. But unfortunately, they all provide alibis for each other thus causing total confusion to the police and all TV viewers who have wasted their time watching the show.

If you have a better explanation as to what just happened in this last hour, please let me know in the comments box below.

Saturday, 7 January 2017

Granite Heart



GRANITE HEART



What’s our heart made of?



Tender flesh soft and gentle,

Feels the pain that’s all around,

Cries at hurts, wrongs and injustice,

Bleeds with every tortured soul.



Or slowly hardened by life’s cruelty,

Fatigued by constant repeated ills,

To the point it beats no longer

And turns to granite cold and still.

 Copyright © 2009 Victor S E Moubarak
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