Why did you do it?

A few months ago there was a suicide near our home; a young lady jumped from a multi-story building. Her boyfriend quickly rushed to the scene and was overhead shouting “Why did you do it?” a common question to raise following such an incident. The young lady, crushed by the fall, groaned and breathed her last as the paramedics arrived.

It’s not an easy world to live in these days; suicide is one of the leading causes of death in young people and when we look at our world it is not too surprising is it. We have never been more connected to the world or more isolated from each other; never more separated from our true identity as children of God. Being driven to despair may not be a long journey.

The mind and heart can be fragile and we are subjected to a very high degree of trauma every day through news from around the globe as it happens; through pressures in life from every side; and that’s before we factor in the malevolent supernatural beings whose plan is our annihilation. So, quite a lot to contend with on a regular monday morning.

Other pressures are more specific and personal to our lives that can drive people to despair. As Christians we have a way to deal with these things from deliverance prayer, where there is demonic oppression, to counselling and healing prayer. And I believe the key to prevention of suicides; is prayer for one another; especially from or for your loved ones as the primary means of intervention; other things can also be helpful of course, but only God can make the difference in our lives; only He can deal with our invisible wounds. Like in Isaiah where it says about Jesus ‘The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners’ And He will do it if we call on Him.

Judgement Day

There was a 4^th century Saint; - Ephrem who preached about Judgement Day as if it were unfolding before his eyes. He wept as he delivered it, paused to regain composure and continued, such a poignant moment it will be for us all and worth keeping before our own eyes:- 

“The King of kings will descend from heaven, from the throne of glory, to take His seat as Judge, and will call all the inhabitants of earth before His judgment-seat. Alas! a clap of thunder makes us tremble now; how then shall we bear the clang of those trumpets which shall wake the dead? As soon as the sleeping bodies in the bosom of the grave shall hear this sound, life will animate them once more.” 

All will rise again in one and the same moment, without a single hair being wanting to them ; they will collect together and stream towards the place of judgment ; for the heavenly King issues His commands, and the stricken earth and the agitated depths of ocean give back their dead; Then he described the fire which enkindles the whole world ; the angels who separate the sheep from the goats ; the sign of the Cross shining with light, which is carried before the King ; man kind in fear and confusion ; the just overflowing with joy, and the wicked a prey to despair ; the heavenly hosts glorifying the thrice holy God with their songs of praise ; heaven opened, and the Lord surrounded by such glory that neither heaven nor earth can support it. 

Ephrem then unfolded before their eyes the Book of Life in which all our thoughts, words, and works are written. Then each man will be called up to undergo a severe examination, and will not dare to lift up his eyes to the Eternal Judge, whose divinely just decree awards to each one life or death, heaven or hell. my dearest brethren! how many tears ought we not to shed day and night in expectation of this fearful judgment? At the mere thought of such things my limbs stiffen. 

..then will each Christian be examined whether he has the seal of holy baptism and the treasure of the faith ; each Christian will be asked whether he has lived according to his renunciation of Satan and his works, not only one or two of his works, but all in general. Oh, blessed is he who has faithfully kept his promise! Then is announced that woeful sentence which parts men for ever from one another: bishops from bishops, priests from priests, deacons and lectors from their companions in orders; children from their parents, brothers from their sisters, friends from their friends. After the separation has taken place, the reprobate will call upon the elect with unspeakable lamentation, and will say: 

Farewell ye saints and servants of God! farewell ye prophets, apostles, and martyrs! farewell ye parents, children, and friends! farewell for ever thou most Blessed Virgin, Mother of God! All ye have prayed for the salvation of our souls but we would not be saved. Farewell saving Cross! farewell Paradise, thou field of delights, thou everlasting kingdom, thou heavenly Jerusalem! Fare well ye blessed! Farewell to bliss! We shall see you no more! We are sinking into an abyss of pain and torments; we have no more hope of salvation for ever 

Now is the time for us to seek mercy and gain it for our loved ones through prayer.  Life is short.

The only Easy day was Yesterday

 

I saw a comic book sketch of a boy kneeling by his bedside saying his evening prayers as his dad walked by the open door of the bedroom. The boy looked up and said ‘Hi Dad; just saying my prayers; do you need anything while I’m here?’ His dad looked like he’d had a long day. 

At first it made me laugh; but as I pondered it I realised something. Our design is for complete dependency on God and Intimacy with Him. We are not meant to figure out life on our own. Prayer is in fact the only way to make life work. 

In our day, as the pace of life quickens, the pressure mounts, and demands are placed upon people that our ancestors would never comprehend; perhaps everyone in the modern world could embrace the Navy Seals saying “The only easy day was yesterday”. We are even harassed by our own telephones! 

Often at best people try to shoehorn God in on Sunday morning and a quick prayer as they run out of the house. But we need a lot more than that to survive let alone thrive. Jesus spent whole nights in prayer. Even Jesus needed to. To commune with the Father, the only one who truly knew Him (and the only one who knows and understands us). 

Prayer is the oxygen for the soul, without it we will shrivel up and die. The human heart is the meeting place for God and man, He is already there; (like in a zoom breakout room) waiting for us to enter, share our troubles with Him so He can immediately get to work on them. (He loves to be needed). 

Often though, we are faced with an enticing alternative for our spare moments, particularly at the end of the day. There are two options on the table, the first is Relief and the second is Restoration. The first is quick, seems easy and involves potato chips, ice cream, a TV sitcom and an extra glass of wine; that will bring temporary relief from the day’s struggles. Restoration is the better choice and takes only a little effort and has a much longer lasting effect. Rather than simply numbing the ravages of the day on the soul with some form of medication we can revive and restore it, bring it back into harmony by going to God. 

This is how I go about it, these days. I go down to the terrace of our condo; there is a nice spot with a few trees on either side, and a breeze drifts through in the evenings. I watch it move the palms for a few minutes, listen to the crickets chirp and wait in silence. We are in fact always in the presence of God; we don’t have to seek Him out, He is an indwelling God. I don’t review the day so much as surrender it and myself to Him leaving the outcomes and troubles in His capable hands; this takes a few minutes. I use a simple formula borrowed from a Capuchin monk it goes ‘Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything” And then I just rest in Him, in His presence and little by little there is a shift towards letting go of everything and allowing myself to be restored in Him, ready for the next day.

Once we realise the importance of prayer, we will see the difference it makes. Mother Teresa commented once that if she had a lot to accomplish she would pray for an hour first and if she knew she had a great deal to do that day then she would pray for 2 hours first. That’s how it works, the economics of the Kingdom of God.  And in doing so we also receive peace in our hearts; instead of agitation. 

Try it and see !

Let there be Light .. a Lourdes story

As international travel remains disrupted by the pandemic; most of my communication with family between England and the Philippines is through skype these days where we share stories ‘over the ether’.

My Dad shared a real gem the other day from a pilgrimage to Lourdes in the 1950’s. It began in the foothills of the Pyrenees on horseback where most of the pilgrim group (a.k.a ‘the faint hearted’) used the bridge to cross the river, Dad’s trusty steed (a distant relative of Pegasus himself) showed him the shortcut and horse and rider plunged into the icy melt waters. Historically this began a now long and consistent family tradition of death-defying equestrian misadventure. But the real drama of the trip was yet to unfold in village of Lourdes below. 

In the evening as they prayed the Rosary together at their hotel, two young Irish girls burst into the room both weeping uncontrollably. They had come as volunteers to help the sick and disabled in Lourdes and their charge was a young boy who had been born blind. When they had checked in on him to get him ready for bed they noticed he was very quiet and just sat on the edge of the bed waiting for them. They asked him what was wrong and he responded “I was waiting to hear your voices so I would know what you both looked like” 

Earlier that day he had attended a procession where the Priest had moved amongst the sick with the Monstrance blessing each person. When he came to the boy he blessed him saying “let there be light” and as he did so the boy received his sight. And the first thing he saw was his Lord, Saviour and healer.

I imagine that miracle has been brand new every morning he opened his eyes for the last 60+ years; what a wonderful miracle and gift.

Thats HIM!

Not long ago, somewhere in the hinterlands of Mindanao, a grim tragedy happened. A frustrated father shot dead his wife before finally turning the gun on himself, pulling the trigger. The entire scene was witnessed by a lone survivor, a seven year old boy---the couples only son.

They were so impoverished that his parents thought it was the only way out. Relatives from both sides grieved and pitifully wanted to adopt the orphaned child but they were also very poor. Fortunately, a priest from a nearby town agreed to look after him in his parish locality. 

It was difficult for volunteer workers in the church to communicate with the boy because he seemed to be always in a state of shock. Teaching was not any easier since he did not have any educational foundation at all, sad to say, illiterate.

One afternoon, while the young lad was attending Catechism class the Church was conducting for the less fortunate children in the neighborhood, the teacher was showing an enlarged poster of Jesus Christ. 

As he was going around the room, he asked his class,Do you know who this is? Every child had a puzzled look as they silently stared at the photo. Suddenly, amid the eerie silence, the boy stood up with eyes wide open and pointing to the poster, Thats HIM! He was the one who was with me at the moment my parents died, he screamed repeatedly in his native dialect.

Everybody in the room did not know what to say, especially those who knew of the boys history.

When Jesus came to Birmingham ...

When Jesus came to Golgotha, they hanged Him on a tree,

They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;

They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep,

For those were crude and cruel days, and human flesh was cheap. 

When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by.

They would not hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die;

For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain, 

They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain. 

Still Jesus cried, ‘Forgive them, for they know not what they do,’

And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through;

The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see, 

And Jesus crouched against a wall, and cried for Calvary. 

I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth. Because you say, “I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,” and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked,…

When Jesus Came to Birmingham was written by an Anglican minister named Geoffrey Stoddard Kennedy. He called his poem, ‘Indifference.” Kennedy served as a chaplain in the trenches of World War l where he earned the name “Woodbine Willie” because of his habit of giving Woodbine cigarettes to the injured and dying soldiers.

Kennedy wrote this poem during what was called ‘the great disillusion’ of the 1920’s. The English empire was crumbling, the moral certainty of the Victorian age was eroding leaving in its place only skepticism, cynicism and materialism. After four years of war, the British economy was in tatters and poverty widespread except for the few privileged. Kennedy’s love for England and his church faded in the midst of unemployment and the seeming disregard by the wealthy and religious for the desperate plight of the poor.

Relentless Love...a story from America

Nicky was only 3-1/2 years old when his heart turned to stone. As one of 18 children born to witchcraft-practicing parents from Puerto Rico, bloodshed and mayhem were common occurrences in his life. He suffered severe physical and mental abuse at their hands, at one time being declared the Son of Satan by his mother while she was in a spiritual trance.

When he was 15, Nickys father sent him to visit an older brother in New York. Nicky didnt stay with his brother long. Instead, full of anger and rage, he chose to make it on his own. Tough, but lonely, by age 16 he became a member of the notorious Brooklyn street gang known as the Mau Maus (named after a bloodthirsty African tribe). Within six months he became their president. Cruz fearlessly ruled the streets as warlord of one of the gangs most dreaded by rivals and police. Lost in the cycle of drugs, alcohol, and brutal violence, his life took a tragic turn for the worse after a friend and fellow gang member was horribly stabbed and beaten and died in Nickys arms. As Cruz reputation grew, so did his haunting nightmares.

Arrested countless times, a court-ordered psychiatrist pronounced Nickys fate as headed to prison, the electric chair, and hell. No authority figure could reach Cruz - until he met a skinny street-preacher named David Wilkerson. He disarmed Nicky - showing him something he'd never known before: Relentless love. His interest in the young thug was persistent. Nicky beat him up, spit on him and, on one occasion, seriously threatened his life. Yet the love of God remained - stronger than any adversary Nicky had ever encountered.

Finally, Wilkerson's presentation of the gospel message and the love of Jesus melted the thick walls of his heart. Nicky received the forgiveness, love and new life that can only come through Jesus. Since then, he has dedicated that life to helping others find the same freedom.

He reaches today's youth because they relate to his background, trust his peer authority, and respond to the message of hope he delivers with both passion and conviction. As one kid said after an outreach into his neighborhood, All I knew was he was an O.G. (original gangster) and he was having this big meeting tonight.

These kids are young, hardened criminals who dont respond to parents, teachers, or the jail system. They receive a glorified message of gang activity everyday in rap music, television, and films. They need to hear a different message - and they need to hear it now! They come to our invasions looking for an alternative to the hopeless cycle of drug abuse, alcoholism, and violence. We must offer them an alternative source of security than the one they find in the gangs. They won't surrender to authority figures that have let them down all their lives. But, believe it or not, they will respond to a message about God if it comes from others who have survived their same living hell. - Cruz

The Road From Damascus.. a story from Syria

Ziad was born and raised in Damascus, finishing his schooling in this historic capital of Syria. Most of his life, Ziad had been a practicing Muslim like everyone else in his devout family.

He would often accompany his father, his three brothers, and some neighbours to the mosque for Friday noon prayers and frequently for prayer on other days. The rest of the five daily prayer times he would observe at home or at work. Not once had he failed to observe the month of fasting since his boyhood.

After graduating from the state University, Ziad moved to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, where he worked for several years as a civil engineer. While he was in Saudi Arabia, he continued to participate in all the Muslim religious duties, as well as to make the pilgrimage to Mecca. At times he wondered about the Injil and the Tawrat, but he would brush these thoughts aside for he believed that through his traditional religious training, he knew all he needed to know about the Holy Bible and about Jesus Christ. Yet, according to his testimony, "what I had heard from my Christian friends in Damascus and had seen in their lives, continued unanswered for many years."

In 1979, Ziad, along with his wife and young daughter, Ghada, went to Germany for one year of specialized training as provided by his employer. During the family's stay in Germany, Ghada became very ill and was admitted to a hospital. After receiving medical care for 4 days with no improvement, the doctors seemed resigned to her imminent death.

Feeling overwhelmed by the scene of his daughter's paling face, Ziad left her room with a heavy heart, and returned to the waiting room. There he sat motionless, yet agonizing, for a few moments, until he noticed a table in the middle of the room which contained books and magazines. He saw two recognizable books -- an English version of the Holy Bible and a German version of it. He got up and walked over to the table and picked up one.

As he returned to his seat, he held the book closed while his memory took him back to some sayings of Jesus Christ which he had heard from his former Christian friends in Damascus. Recalling one saying, he eagerly opened the Book that was in his hand and directed by the Holy Spirit, began searching for the passage. When he found it, he began reading it silently:

I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it. (John 14:13,14).

Seeing the willingness of the Son as expressed in these verses gave Ziad an abundant hope. He lifted a warm prayer to the Almighty God in the name of Jesus. His only request -- that his "dying" daughter would be healed.

"Immediately I felt a profound tranquillity and assurance," said Ziad. "I left the waiting room filled with unprecedented joy, seeing light surrounding me. As soon as I came into Ghada's room, I rushed to her bed and hugged her gently, saying, "Ghada my sweetheart, God will heal you."

The certainly with which Ziad made this statement even astonished him, but he knew deep in his heart that God had answered his prayer.

The tears which had dropped from his own eyes onto Ghada's cheek as he embraced here, Ziad wiped off. With tears of joy still clinging to his eyes, he turned to his wife and said, "I have asked God in the name of Jesus to heal Ghada. Never before have I prayed so fervently, nor so simply in such a special way. Somehow I am assured that God has answered this prayer."

Indeed, Ghada was healed. Two days later, the doctors released her from the hospital. They could find no reason to detain her.

Since this amazing answer to Ziad's prayer, both Ziad and his wife have experienced the transforming work of God in their lives. They know the truth about Jesus Christ and proclaim their faith in Him. Later, Ghada followed them on this path; she too now believes that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Where are all the men ?

Recently I visited a church while the Stations of the Cross was under way and, I observed that there was quite an imbalance in the ratio of women to men, about 7:1 in fact. I began noticing this imbalance (a quick head count) at other times too; the closest call was in a prayer meeting I attend where it was 3:1 in favour of the ladies.

In another town, at a funeral, it seemed that most of the men were outside in the car park having a smoke and chewing the fat while their wives were inside.

I wonder what the reason is; some say that women are more spiritual than men, that we are more earthy, others that the church has been ‘feminised’ over the centuries and men find little to identify with anymore.

I don’t think that the first reason carries much weight, as in Jesus’s day men flocked to him, every hillside and valley were packed with men listening for hours or days on end. They even climbed trees and opened up roofs to get closer and have their needs met.

I don’t think men have changed, and Jesus hasn’t changed either so maybe we lost sight of who he is and our need for him. Maybe those who say that the lion of Judah has had his claws manicured, his teeth filled down and his mane given a blue rinse have a point.

What image comes to mind when we think of our Saviour ? Is he a wild, potent stallion galloping across a plain; or a compliant young gelding being led around an enclosure; do we think of him as being like Ghandi with a beard and a full head of hair or as someone who manufactures his own weapons and unleashes his fury on the temple shopkeepers; a man’s man with rough splintered hands who knew (however unlikely the candidate) who would win the football league last year ?

Or maybe what has men huddled in the car park or running at the fence is to do with the perception of what a Christian man ought to be. Is the objective to become a ‘good boy’ or even worse, a nice guy; or rather should we be extremely dangerous, fighters for justice and truth in the service of the most courageous of warriors and the noblest of Kings.

God Knows (a poem by Minnie Louise Haskins)

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”

And he replied:

“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”

So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East. 

So heart be still:

What need our little life

Our human life to know,

If God hath comprehension?

In all the dizzy strife

Of things both high and low,

God hideth His intention.

God knows. His will

Is best. The stretch of years

Which wind ahead, so dim

To our imperfect vision,

Are clear to God. Our fears

Are premature; In Him,

All time hath full provision.

Then rest: until

God moves to lift the veil

From our impatient eyes,

When, as the sweeter features

Of Life’s stern face we hail,

Fair beyond all surmise

God’s thought around His creatures

Our mind shall fill

“Trained by war and betrayed by peace”

In 1916, at the age of 17, my great-uncle Tom was killed during the battle of the Somme along with all of his ‘pals’ and another half a million or so boys and young men. Some 70 years later, the medals he had been awarded posthumously were stolen from his elderly sister’s house by teenagers of a different generation.

It’s odd how in those times the young possessed a sense of duty, courage and honour, a long forgotten innocence perhaps that drove them to sacrifice for their country, kin, and the freedoms they sought to defend. What was lacking in their leaders does not lessen their qualities.

How quickly the collective memory fades though, even with another war in between, all is taken for granted, unappreciated, mocked even. A Victorian scholar came to the conclusion that “War is the foundation of all the high virtues and faculties of men” and “that all great nations learned their truth of word and strength of thought in war; that they were nourished in war and wasted by peace, taught by war and deceived by peace; trained by war and betrayed by peace; in a word, that they were born in war and expired in peace."

This is especially true in the Christian life if the daily spiritual warfare we must engage in is not attended to.

The poor and persecuted church, dressed in rags with calloused knees from supplication, knows it’s at war. And it leans in hard to prayer, clings to its saviour, knows it’s only source of hope and strength. And strangely, through those times of strife, the persecuted become more and more open hearted to one another too; in similar fashion to those who lived through wars do; they reminisce about those days when people pulled together, looked out for one another. They are growing ever stronger in faith and virtue.

As the persecuted church is tested by such trials; the western church has a far greater test to endure; prosperity. The peaceful unhindered practice of faith, lives of relative opulence, slumped on the sofa, remote control in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. Smooth knees and calloused hearts ? It takes us on a downward path to complacency and even to an illusory sense of entitlement. This weakens souls and eliminates virtue. It’s an invisible war, but an eternally dangerous one.

Our memory has faded too, we forget what Jesus did for us, fail to appreciate it and take it for granted instead of developing a renewed sense of duty, courage and honour. Called to be vigilant; to pray like our lives depended on it (they do), make sacrifices for others, pass the test of generosity to those in need, be in solidarity in practical helpful ways with our suffering brethren. We are all required to show up for battle each morning, and fight all the day long, for what we believe in, cherish, hope for.

Death Spiral

Japan’s finance minister, Taro Aso made an astonishing statement recently, to the effect that Japan’s elderly, infirm and others financially dependent on the government, should ‘hurry up and die’.

This was prompted by the rising cost of care for the elderly, the ageing population, and a very low birth rate. With little or no immigration and having fully embraced the western contraceptive culture, many analysts say that Japan, as a nation, is in an irrecoverable ‘death spiral’ facing extinction. The average age is already in the mid-forties, compared to say Arab countries where it’s in the mid twenties.

This hostility to the old, weak and vulnerable members of society represents a massive shift in Japanese culture over only a few decades. Whilst it never embraced Christianity in the mainstream; the values of the Japanese were always transcendent.

Their code of honour (Bushido) was one of respect for their elderly parents and ancestors, a sense of duty to protect the weak and helpless, self-discipline and a focus on the higher values and virtues. In the pre-war and ancient times traders and merchants were the least regarded in society.

Post World War II, Western ideas were embraced and led by industrialists who enshrined profit, production, technological achievement and economic might as the new values. Now as one of the most developed, richest and advanced nations, it is coming to realise that it sowed the seeds of its own destruction in its choices. The contraceptive culture, contains within itself the subtle command to ‘empty the earth’ in opposition to God’s command to Adam and Eve to ‘fill the earth’.

Now in a panic to save itself, the nation turns in on itself all the more, willing to sacrifice its old and helpless on the altar of the Yen, to postpone their inevitable fall.

Truly, the only remnant of Bushido in Japan resides, paradoxically, in the hearts of the countries Christians; they alone will fight for life, for the weak and vulnerable, and hold fast to the integrity and honour that once made Japan the cradle of Eastern civilisation.

Judgement Day

The talk by St Ephrem (4th century desert hermit)

...St. Gregory of Nyssa asserts that it was impossible to read his sermon on the Last Judgment, and still more so to hear it, without tears. My dear brethren; he said, you are listening to the words which I am going to speak concerning the fearful coming of the Lord. But who can relate such terrible things ? If I think of that dreadful moment I am entranced with fear. The King of kings will descend from heaven, from the throne of glory, to take His seat  as Judge, and will call all the inhabitants of earth before His judgment-seat. Alas ! a clap of thunder makes us tremble now; how then shall we bear the clang of those trumpets which shall wake the dead ? As soon as the sleeping bodies in the bosom of the grave shall hear this sound, life will animate them once more.

All will rise again in one and the same moment, without a single hair being wanting to them ; they will collect together and stream towards the place of judgment ; for the heavenly King issues His commands, and the stricken earth and the agitated depths of ocean give back their dead; Then he described the fire which enkindles the whole world ; the angels who separate the sheep from the goats ; the sign of the Cross shining with light, which is carried before the King ; man kind in fear and confusion ; the just overflowing with joy, and the wicked a prey to despair ; the heavenly hosts glorifying the thrice holy God with their songs of praise ; heaven opened, and the Lord surrounded by such glory that neither heaven nor earth can support it. Ephrem was so affected that his voice melted into tears, and he was unable to proceed. 

But the congregation cried aloud to him, Continue to instruct us in these fearful things, say further, thou servant of God, what will happen after that/ Ephrem then unfolded before their eyes the Book of Life in which all our thoughts, words, and works are written. Then each man will be called up to undergo a severe examination, and will not dare to lift up his eyes to the Eternal Judge, whose divinely just decree awards to each one life or death, heaven or hell. my dearest brethren ! how many tears ought we not to shed day and night in expectation of this fearful judgment. At the mere thought of such things my limbs stiffen.

We conjure thee, exclaimed his hearers,  continue to speak to us for our welfare and the salvation of our souls; my dearest brethren !continued Ephrem, then will each Christian be examined whether he has the seal of holy baptism and the treasure of the faith ; each Christian will be asked whether he has lived according to his renunciation of Satan and his works, not only one or two of his works, but all in general. Oh, blessed is he who has faithfully kept his promise ! Then is announced that woeful sentence which parts men for ever from one another : bishops from bishops, priests from priests, deacons and lectors from their companions in orders; children from their parents, brothers from their sisters, friends from their friends. After the separation has taken place, the reprobate will call upon the elect with unspeakable lamentation, and will say :

Farewell ye saints and servants of God ! farewell ye prophets, apostles, and martyrs ! farewell ye parents, children, and friends ! farewell for ever thou most Blessed Virgin, Mother of God ! All ye have prayed for the salvation of our souls but we would not be saved. Farewell saving Cross ! farewell Paradise, thou field of delights, thou ever lasting kingdom, thou heavenly Jerusalem ! Fare well ye blessed ! Farewell to bliss ! We shall see you no more ! We are sinking into an abyss of pain and torments, we have no more hope of salvation for ever Ephrem continued to speak in this way for a long time to the breathlessly attentive congregation, and wept and sobbed, and struck his breast in penitence. He did not do this with the motive of affecting his hearers, but the sinfulness of men, and the justice of God, represented themselves so forcibly to his mind, that his interior agitation made him lose his self-command.