We're Baby Boomers

(describing most of  my Facebook friends)
We're baby boomers. We're either children of Rockn Roll or in my case the Beatles. About 10-20 years younger than the real movers and shakers themselves. That is I am too young , just, to be an ex hippy. i couldn't really "get" why Bob Dylan and John Lennon were so important. In a way I was a perfect product of them because I couldn't "get " it....in other words I was already normalised. It was my music.
I couldn't understand why Bob Dylan was so silent and monosyllabic in that iconic 1966 interview. Anyone remember the big one? he basically was refusing point blank to identify with the Pathe News patronising voice news media.....and really....although it took some time....in that interview he smashed it. He smashed the old order. Almost like the quiet resistance 20 years earlier that Ghandi adopted to smash the British Empire's hold of India.
We were convinced new ideas ruled.

We were also convinced in the atheist post -Auschwitz generation that there was no room for God and religion.
We couldn't know that ....for yes , in fact ,we were....we were part of the fairy story.
And here I refer to the fact that the Grimm's Fairy tales turn out to be the real world, and what we deemed the real world is an enormous construct.
Good and evil really exists and is in a life and death struggle, and the winner will take all.
New Agers deny evil as a spiritual person and relegate it to bad thoughts, bad intentions, selfishness,bad karma,selfish agenda.
Perhaps rightly they are irritated by the pentecostal "out there" view of evil. ' The devil made me do it.'

My intention here is not to make a big thing of this point, but simply so you know, express my belief in a paragraph.
In the Good corner
is the Goodness of God being expressed daily through all creation, and to a greater or lesser extent through every human...
but in purity as the Triune God , individually by union with our spirit, and corporately in the Living Body of Christ actively in union with Him.
In the bad corner is "the world, the flesh and the devil."
So the devil as fallen angel through principalities and powers, pulls on our flesh as individuals, and corporately as the "world system" or matrix.
In Greek there are two words for world...this one is kosmos.
But in psalm 24...the earth is the Lord's ....representing the whole thing...even allowing for the effects of demonic squatters pulling their weight in and by humans!!!

So us baby boomers strode out convinced we were different.
Values of love.(Hippies etc)
Ecology.
Responsible business.
Fairer pay.
Wanting a meritocracy....if someone had the ability they should rise and take their place.
Free expression.
Freedom of thought and belief.

So what have we now?
The Jim Hensons...if not dead...are coralled in to Hollywood and big money.
David Gilmour who wrote Money...Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon...yup he actually did give away his London house to a homeless charity and went to live on a houseboat. Now he lives in a big estate next to some friends of ours.
Google "Do no evil" is now part of the megabillions world of control.
Bill and Melissa Gates retire and wish to distribute billions of profit via vaccines, but reports are coming in about the extra additions to the vaccines.
Council On Foreign relations seems to be more about splitting the world into opposing tensions
The religion behind the United Nations is Lucis Trust, which used to be called Lucifer trust before people got scared.
Israel.
Right here on Facebook are Support Israel groups.
But St Paul was clear about an Israel without Jesus. He called them children of Hagar. Bond slaves. NOT BORN FROM THE JERUSALEM ABOVE.
The German group supporting Israel that I have been asked to join obviously looks really great. After all wasn't it Germany who housed the concentration camps of extermination? Someone in the group just pasted that Mystery Babylon is Mecca.

Do you know? I doubt that. I think Mystery Babylon could well turn out to be Jerusalem. She is at present a locked door with Arabs holding key parts. But scriptures in the Bible are flooded with phrases which indicate Antichrist wants to mimicJesus Christ, who was allowed a full earthly ministry of 3 and a half years. it would seem he has demanded equal rights and wished to take over the Temple at Jerusalem.
So that's what I mean. Us babyboomers wanted to create the world after our own ideas of a secular bubble....not knowing that we have perfectly been used to walk the enemy into the most perfect fulfilment of scriptures this world has ever known. And that without trying...because we have, like the Russian Communists and Chinese Communists, and Hitler's Germany, denied the rule of God Almighty....so as there is no middle realm....we by default become the glove puppets of the devil.

Attacked By Evil, Healed By God - Beverly Donofrio

Beverly Donofrio

Author, 'Astonished: A Story of Evil, Blessings, Grace, and Solace'

Posted: 03/18/2013 9:23 am

Six years ago, my faith was still fairly new to me, so when my heart flat-lined to zero, my days felt like a slog through mud, and God faded like fabric in the sun, I'd no idea that I might be enduring what St. John of the Cross called a Dark Night of the Soul. When an opportunity arose to visit a monastery for a few days, it felt like the hand of God; nuns observing ancient practices in a speeding world lit a fire in me to join them. I could turn every chore, thought, encounter into a sacred act, sing praises to God with my sisters, lift up the spirit, give my life purpose and meaning. Back home I searched the Internet for Benedictine and Carmelite communities like they were ships in the distance and I was on a life raft. This is precisely when, in the middle of the night, in the middle of middle age, I awoke to a rapist in my bed, "Don't scream. I have a knife," he said.
"Now, God?" I screamed inside. "Now, when I've decided to spend my life being close to you?" More than rape, I feared I'd never forgive God because of it.

The intruder was our town's serial rapist, who'd attacked four women before me. I knew that if I didn't fight he would not beat me, and that post rape he'd want to chat to kill time before another round. So after the attack, I prayed Hail Marys to drown him out, while interiorly I prayed for him and then for me. He commanded me to stop, but I refused, and soon he backed out of bed, patted me on the shoulder, said, "It's OK," and left.
For a day or two after the rape, I was in shock and weirdly almost joyous. Prayer had chased the rapist out and my faith had flown back in on eagle's wings. But more importantly, in the midst of the terror, in the void of his howling absence, in my absolute lack of control, God had been hotly present.
Shaken out of myself by the visitation of horror, the world slowed enough for me to really look at it. Life burst into vibrant color, which did not fade when the adrenaline-induced euphoria did and I raged at God, cried every day, was too afraid to fall asleep, and called a priest, weeping, "Why would God do this to me?"
"God didn't do it," he said. "God doesn't cause evil, ever. But God will use it."
He'd reminded me of what I already knew from experience: pain is a place of breakthrough, and so I set about discerning how God might be using it to help me grow.
I was in no condition to commit to a religious community nor was I a fit candidate for a novitiate. But I did visit for six months five monasteries and houses of prayer. And when that time was done, I arranged to rent my house, and from the proceeds, I paid each month to stay at Nada, a Carmelite Hermitage and Retreat Center in Colorado, where I prayed and worked with the community and lived in a tiny hermitage, overlooking the oceanic prairie in one direction and our own big-shouldered Mount Carmel in the other. After a year, I took vows as a lay member.
I followed a rule of life: I mediated and prayed the daily office; I practiced yoga and hiked through high-desert wilderness. I studied Scripture, read theologians and came to consider the Desert Fathers and Mothers, saints and mystics my friends and teachers -- most notably, St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, Brother Lawrence, Julian of Norwich and Thomas Merton. I tried to do as Evelyn Underhill instructed in "Practical Mysticism": to look with the eyes of love, slow down enough to experience awe, to see that the pebble under my shoe, every person and cell, every bit of the universe is in union, and all are in union with the One.
I contemplated the evil that had visited me, the fear that still woke me in the night and Christ on the cross. I imagined myself with Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, his fear as he sweated drops like blood, his love for us, his resolve. Then one day I felt a presence, as if sitting in a dark room, you sense someone standing a foot away. Palpable, although ephemeral, as heartening as your best friend and neighbor watching your back. And I began to feel loved. Much later, a hummingbird mistook me for a flower, a hawk lifted a bunny into the air by its shoulders, fallen trees began to crumble, and I came to know body and soul that nothing is irredeemable, or bad. Joy as daily bread is imperative. I began to forgive the rapist -- and to forgive life for being life. Then four years after I'd retreated to monasteries, I left them and re-entered the world.
Leon Bly, the French Catholic novelist, wrote, "In his heart man has places which do not exist and into them enters suffering in order to bring them to life."
Pain had opened a wound through which light came streaming in, filling me with wonder and the most valuable knowing: The best we can do is simply to let God love us -- and healing, growth, new life will grace us like desert rain.
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The blog editor does not endorse the Catholic practice of praying to Mary.
While being the human vessel chosen to birth Jesus, she totally represents each of us chosen to bring forth Jesus in our own personhood. The terms "mother of God" and her supposed "immaculate conception" are not supported anywhere in the Bible, and are false doctrines. We are bold to enter the throne of God direct through the work of Jesus on the Cross. There simply is not an intermediary in the form of Mary or any saint.