well known for some bad quality or deed. "an infamous war criminal" wicked; abominable. "the medical council disqualified him for infamous misconduct"
There have been far too
many days of infamy in my lifetime.
The attack on Pearl Harbor occurred five years
before my birth. Yet, since my birth, there have been genocides, wars, unjust
executions, terrorist attacks, mass killings, police brutality, etc. Each of
these of events have been, to me, infamous:
The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: "Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!"
The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the Monarch's silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: "O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
"'T is not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
'T is by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.
"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.
"The ill-timed truth we might have kept--
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say--
Who knows how grandly it had rung!
"Our faults no tenderness should ask.
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders -- oh, in shame
Before the eyes of heaven we fall.
"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!"
The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
"Be merciful to me, a fool!"
They went with songs to the battle,
they were young.Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady
and aglow.They were staunch to the end against
odds uncounted,They fell with their faces to the foe.They shall grow not old, as we that are
left grow old:Age shall not weary them, nor the years
condemn.At the going down of the sun and in the
morning,We will remember them. ~ Laurence Binyon
Too Bad It's Monday was published yesterday: goHERE
Because of the pain, sorrow, anger and compassion for the horrendous suffering in Boston yesterday, I include in my meditations the powerful prayer known as St. Patrick’s Breastplate
St. Patrick's Breastplate For my shield this day I call: A mighty power: The Holy Trinity! Affirming threeness, Confessing oneness, In the making of all Through love…
For my shield this day I call: Christ’s power in his coming and in his baptising, Christ’s power in his dying On the cross, his arising from the tomb, his ascending; Christ’s power in his coming for judgment and ending.
For my shield this day I call: strong power of the seraphim, with angels obeying, and archangels attending, in the glorious company of the holy and risen ones, in the prayers of the fathers, in visions prophetic and commands apostolic, in the annals of witness, in virginal innocence, in the deeds of steadfast men.
For my shield this day I call: Heaven’s might, Sun’s brightness, Moon’s whiteness, Fire’s glory, Lightning’s swiftness, Wind’s wildness, Ocean’s depth, Earth’s solidity, Rock’s immobility.
This day I call to me: God’s strength to direct me, God’s power to sustain me, God’s wisdom to guide me, God’s vision to light me, God’s ear to my hearing, God’s word to my speaking, God’s hand to uphold me, God’s pathway before me, God’s shield to protect me, God’s legions to save me: from snares of the demons, from evil enticements, from failings of nature, from one man or many that seek to destroy me, anear or afar.
Around me I gather these forces to save my soul and my body from dark powers that assail me: against false prophesyings, against pagan devisings, against heretical lying and false gods all around me. Against spells cast by women by blacksmiths, by Druids, against knowledge unlawful that injures the body, that injures the spirit.
Be Christ this day my strong protector; against poison and burning, against drowning and wounding, through reward wide and plenty … Christ beside me, Christ before me; Christ behind me, Christ within me; Christ beneath me, Christ above me; Christ to right of me, Christ to left of me; Christ in my lying, my sitting, my rising; Christ in heart of all who know me, Christ on tongue of all who meet me, Christ in eye of all who see me, Christ in ear of all who hear me.
For my shield this day I call a mighty power: the Holy Trinity! affirming threeness, confessing oneness in the making of all - through love…
For to the Lord belongs salvation, and to the Lord belongs salvation and to Christ belongs salvation.
May your salvation, Lord, be with us always. (Domini est salus, Domini est salus, Christi est salus; Salus tua, Domine, sit semper nobiscum).
Many years ago I saw cartoon that picture two men with long hair and beards standing together, each carrying a sign that read TOMORROW THE WORLD ENDS. One man was saying to the other, "Same time, same place tomorrow – if there is a tomorrow."
There a lot of people who have gotten it into their heads that something catastrophic will happen tomorrow. I do not know what they know that I don't know: I do know that if one believes the New Testament no one knows when the world will end.
Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among* you.’ ~ Luke 17.20-21
When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Beware that no one leads you astray. For many will come in my name, saying, “I am the Messiah!”* and they will lead many astray. And you will hear of wars and rumours of wars; see that you are not alarmed; for this must take place, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines* and earthquakes in various places: all this is but the beginning of the birth pangs. ~ Matt. 23.3-8
‘But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son,* but only the Father. 3For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 3For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 3and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. ~ Matt. 24.36-39
If those Scriptures do not convince you that the world will not again tomorrow, that no one – not even Jesus – knows when the world will in, may I suggest that you click over to this article for further confirmation: A Guarantee: The World Will Not End On Friday. Many many years ago I was in high school each student in my senior English class was required to read a poem allowed. I selected The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot:
May I suggest that, if the world does end on 21 December, 2012, (which I doubt) it will do so in the manner T.S.Eliot suggested: not with a bang, but a whimper.
I awakened this morning to realize that
yesterday's horror was not a nightmare. The murders at Sandy Hook Elementary School are real. Twenty little girls and boys are dead, as well as adult educators. My morning prayers
have centered upon the victims' families and upon the ridding of the evil that is in this land.
There is an evil in
this land that preys on the innocent.
Every year three times as many people are murdered with guns in the United States as were murdered on Sept. 11, 2001.~ The Washington Post
We may never know the why of atrocious murders such as those yesterday at Sandy HookElementary School; however, we can
identify the means of the evil. Like so much of what in wicked in the United States,
it relates to money and greed. Specifically it centers in the greed of the firearms industry gun
lobby and the politicians who accept their bribe money.
Guns are big business in the United States—very
big business. The U.S. manufacture and sale of firearms is a multi-billion dollar business in the United States and that doesn't include the U.S. weapons exported, legally and illegally, to foreign lands.
In 2012, prior to yesterday’s
murders in Connecticut, the United States has witnessed multiple mass
shootings—at a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado, at a SikhTemple in Wisconsin
and at a mall in Oregon.
Existing gun-control laws did nothing to prevent any of them.
Last month a study of U.S. gun
control legislation, prepared by a specialist in domestic security and crime
policy at the Congressional Research Service., was presented to Congress. The report noted that, since the
Republicans gained control of the House of Representatives…
much of the gun control debate in the 112th Congress has swirled around
allegations (regarding the failure of) …the Department of Justice and the
Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives mishandled a Phoenix,
Ariz.-based gun-trafficking investigation known as Operation Fast and Furious.
In other words, the GOP ignored
the murders in Colorado, Wisconsin
and Oregon
in favor of meaningless accusations against government agencies. No new
legislation restricting the firearms will come about as long the gun control
lobby has the political right wing in its very large and wealthy pockets.
I end by addressing this question to politicians who accept contributions from the gun lobby: ‘How longwill you judge unjustly and show
partiality to the wicked? (Psalms
82.2)
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.
I arise today through the strength of Heaven
the rays of the sun,
the radiance of the moon,
the splendor of fire,
the speed of lightening,
the swiftness of the wind,
the depth of the sea,
the stability of the earth
the firmness of rock.
I arise today through the power of God:
God's might to comfort me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to lead me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's Heavenly Host to save me
from the snares of the devil,
from temptations to sin,
from all who wish me ill,
from near and afar,
alone and with others.
May Christ shield me today
against poison and fire,
against drowning and wounding,
so that I may fulfill my mission
and bear fruit in abundance.
Christ behind and before me,
Christ behind and above me,
Christ with me and in me,
Christ around and about me,
Christ on my right and on my left,
Christ when I lie down at night,
Christ when I rise in the morning,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone that speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
- St Patrick
There Are Too Many Saviors on My Cross
There are too many saviors on my cross, lending their blood to flood out my ballot box with needs of their own. Who put you there? Who told you that that was your place?
You carry me secretly naked in your heart and clothe me publicly in armor crying “God is on our side,” yet I openly cry Who is on mine? Who? Tell me, who? You who bury your sons and cripple your fathers whilst you bury my father in crippling his son.
The antiquated Saxon sword, rusty in its scabbard of time now rises— you gave it cause in my name, bringing shame to the thorned head that once bled for your salvation.
I hear your daily cries in the far-off byways in your mouth pointing north and south and my Calvary looms again, desperate in rebirth. Your earth is partitioned, but in contrition it is the partition in your hearts that you must abolish.
You nightly watchers of Gethsemene who sat through my nightly trial delivering me from evil— now deserted, I watch you share your silver. Your purse, rich in hate, bleeds my veins of love, shattering my bone in the dust of the bogside and the Shankhill road.
There is no issue stronger than the tissue of love, no need as holy as the palm outstretched in the run of generosity, no monstrosity greater than the acre you inflict. Who gave you the right to increase your fold and decrease the pastures of my flock? Who gave you the right? Who gave it to you? Who? And in whose name do you fight?
I am not in heaven, I am here, hear me. I am in you, feel me. I am of you, be me. I am with you, see me. I am for you, need me. I am all mankind; only through kindness will you reach me.
What masked and bannered men can rock the ark and navigate a course to their annointed kingdom come? Who sailed their captain to waters that they troubled in my font, sinking in the ignorant seas of prejudice?
There is no virgin willing to conceive in the heat of any bloody Sunday. You crippled children lying in cries on Derry’s streets, pushing your innocence to the full flush face of Christian guns, battling the blame on each other, do not grow tongues in your dying dumb wounds speaking my name. I am not your prize in your death. You have exorcized me in your game of politics.
Go home to your knees and worship me in any cloth, for I was never tailor-made. Who told you I was? Who gave you the right to think it? Take your beads in your crippled hands, can you count my decades? Take my love in your crippled hearts, can you count the loss?
I am not orange. I am not green. I am a half-ripe fruit needing both colors to grow into ripeness, and shame on you to have withered my orchard. I in my poverty, alone without trust, cry shame on you and shame on you again and again for converting me into a bullet and shooting me into men’s hearts.
The ageless legend of my trial grows old in the youth of your pulse staggering shamelessly from barricade to grave, filing in the book of history my needless death one April. Let me, in my betrayal, lie low in my grave, and you, in your bitterness, lie low in yours, for our measurements grow strangely dissimilar.
Our Father, who art in heaven, sullied be thy name.
