Jesus Wept

One survivor from the concentration camp in Buchenwald had a surprising attitude about his experience there.  It was a place noted for extremes of cruelty; one guard used to hang inmates by the wrists and leave them to die in what became known as the singing forest on account of the wailing his victims made as they died in agony.

The survivor though, having seen so much horror did not seek for vengeance or even justice for his tormentors. His own suffering was nothing compared to the broken-heartedness he felt for those poor German youths who could be so cruel; and thinking about the state of their souls was what troubled him, not their victims, whom he saw as ‘on the side of Christ’.

I was on the Mount of Olives a couple of months ago at a chapel commemorating the place where Jesus wept over Jerusalem and I imagine this as analogous, he was heartbroken at the refusal of his people to recognize Him and accept His offer of mercy and the life in its fullness that the Gospel offers.

As we returned to England and came back to my home town in Manchester arriving in the early hours of the morning at the bus station, we were met with the revelry of the Gay pride festival, men with beards in dresses celebrating their rights; it was quite a contrast having been in Bethlehem the morning before.

We live in strange days. I read an article the other day where a woman who had recently given birth now decided that she ‘identified herself as a man’ and was demanding the right to change the birth certificate to have her recognized as the father of her baby. Many parents are increasingly concerned about the way gender ideology and its massive confusion are being inflicted on their children in the classroom, made to believe that it’s all ‘normal’.

This undermining of the family and validation and forced acceptance of all and any manner of ‘alternative lifestyles’ coupled with the continued genocide against the unborn shows that society has reached a peak of decadence beyond which there can only be ruin. These contain within themselves the seeds of their own destruction.

The ancient Greeks and Roman’s went down a similar (though much less extreme) decent into effeminacy and it was the end of their civilizations; it’s heartbreaking to watch people destroy their own lives though. Only prayer can really make the difference; at least for some. As a Face Book posting I saw this morning said “Jesus told the story of the prodigal son to make a simple point, - never mind what you’ve done just come home.”