Sunday, October 10, 2004

The Heritage of the Wicked: "I lit my candles Wednesday night on her behalf, and I began my prayers. They've burned down halfway, now, and the light from the flames illuminates the guardian angel with her smile, the suffering Jesus with his wounds. I pray to Mary. I pray to Shiva and Quan-yin. I pray to anyone out there who'll listen. I pray to Jane herself."

Dear Shirley,

If I'm not careful here I can be calloused and run roughshod over your feelings. After all, I will never see the look on your face or have to bear any social costs for how you feel after I write this. May God help me to give the right words at the right time.

Your story brings to mind a related story, of my sister-in-law. There is the same simple-mindedness in this story. There is an authoritative male who takes advantage of weakness. There are all kinds of similarities, but there is one significant difference.

There is the commitment to honor and worship Christ. My sister-in-law has always been kept active in the church choir, for instance. There is nothing in that act that has any value in and of itself except to confirm that there has always been that commitment to service and to each other.

Yes, the commitment to each other comes from the commitment to honor God. The commitment to never abandon the weak, even if every other thing is going against it.

This is all just to say that your grandparent's household abandoned God first before they began abandoning each other. The degeneration began way back then and still goes one, apparently. That is why you are grasping at candles in the flood of despair you are experiencing. There is no Rock to grasp: there is only the many, not the One.


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