Today God’s children are at it again
Trying God by the very act of their sins.
Christ is on trial, errant clerics the judge
While we, the sheep, drag up the sludge.
Of dissension against all Christ taught
Of doubting that faith must always be fought
Against the voices that cry, denounce and shout
That morality, virtue and holiness are out.
Our Cardinals, Bishops, Priests, of awe
Debunk God’s Perfect Law
Giving the lie to their self-fed doubts
Aired or printed with media clout.
The Sanhedrin judged, condemning He
Whom God sent to die for thee.
The witnesses lied, denied His Love
Wanted Heaven to stay above.
Rejected His peace which came to earth
Preferred their pleasures ripe with mirth
Spit upon Him, slapped Him around
Cursing and dragging Him through the town.
Self-righteous and proud, blinded by greed,
The faith He gave became rotten seed.
Goodness is stressful, it’s not passé,
We who know better have a better way.
Who needs God, the people cry,
Believing fully satan’s lie:
That we are god, there is no sin
No need to struggle, no need to win.
Forget all reverence, seek the fun;
Prayer forsaken, entertainment the sum.
For pew-filled churches, joke-telling priests
Who spew forth doubts that rise like yeast.
In souls grown tepid as consciences die
Until no sin upon the earth lies.
Murder, homosexuality, and countless sins
Put Christ on trial; the people seek the win.
Nothing Sacred is the theme of the day.
Come on, folks, you know the way
Of pleasure so rampant, the conscience is dead.
The sheep are too intelligent to have to be fed.
The battle is fought in a court of law;
A public forum, the local law-mall
Where lies spew, where reason dies;
Crucify Him, the people cry!
No leadership have we, the people of God
Who tread upon this finite sod;
Money and power, luxuries galore;
Let’s have more, till it oozes from every pore.
To heck with God, Creator and Judge
From debase behavior we refuse to budge.
Gather round, we’ll sue the Guy Above
Who tries to warn us that we’ve forgotten love.
A worldwide lawsuit is the way to go
Get all the priests to tell you so;
That the Church is debunk, doubt the rule
If you believe in God, you are the fool!
God isn’t Perfect, what a lie we’ve believed
Accept all lifestyles, the garden needs more weeds!
Just an excuse that God is, we think in haste,
Believing, striving…what a waste!!
Let’s sue the hell out of God and His kin.
Throw out His law, commit every sin.
Kill the God-mongers, it’ll free up space
On an over-crowded planet for the human race.
Rip God to shreds with tirades sublime
So no one the cross has to climb.
We hung Him once, we’ll do it again;
We’ll laugh and dance in our heedless tailspin.
No need for faith, social workers we are
We know best, we can stand up tall
While we spit in God’s face and laugh till we die
‘Cause we finally figured out God is a lie.
The lawsuit’s been heard, the jury deliberates.
While mankind wallows in its collective hate,
The foreman stands up, the verdict to read.
The accused stands silent, His heart bleeds.
"What is your verdict?" cry those who profess
To lead in His name, whose own souls are a mess!
"Guilty," we cry, "for making us toil
When all we want is our emotions to boil!"
With unchecked passions our basic need,
Who needs flowers when we can be weeds
That choke God out as just a pest
For after all, it's we who know best.
Blasphemer! Devil! the verdict was read
Two thousand years ago we made our bed
Too lazy to rise, to lukewarm to care
That the bed is twisted into satan’s lair.
Go ahead, deny Him in full.
Who cares? He’s the fool
To think that we care, or want to share
In eternal joy with Him! Beware!
Every foul word you know is okay.
Profanity is here to stay.
Let’s tell God where He can take
His Heavenly promises we call fake!
How dare He wish us to seek our home
When He knows full well our hearts do roam
Down the pleasure-strewn path so wide and sweet.
Damn! Hell is sure hard to beat!
He laid down the challenge and offered the grace
For us to win the eternal race.
Buzz off, God, we’ve had enough
Of all this holy, pious, religious stuff!
Now we’re god, and who are You
To try to tell us what to do?
You might have been useful long ago
Our forefathers were gullible, isn’t that so?
Well, get this straight, whoever You are
We’re not buying this road of sticky tar
That slows down our pleasure, and makes us sweat.
Whatever we want here on earth - we'll get!
If you exist, who gives a fig!
You’re nothing more than a twisted twig
Of stifling rules that we prefer to break
Yes, God, through Your heart we’ll drive a steak.
Take that, God, we’re full of doubts
Don’t believe us? Just hear us shout
Judas was right, the miserable fool
Who hung himself with a rope for his tool!
How dare You die on a cross for us
Why did You bother to make such a fuss?
We don’t want You, You’re spoiling our fun.
Who says there’s a God, that You are His son?
The law is the voice of this day and age
Against You, God, we’ll war and rage
Until it’s over and we’ve had our day
To sin all we want while we make hay.
And then what, God? You’ll judge us, you say?
Oh, please, God, get real! That will be the day!
We can do that ourselves, thank you so much
Now pardon us, but we’re in a rush.
We’ve got a ticket on the non-stop flight
Sorry, God, but it leaves tonight
Next stop Hell, where You can’t be
That’s all right, ‘cause You we won’t see!
How stupid we were, how proud unto death
Gee, God, it’s You who’ve made us a mess
By the stress of Your Love, the work of Your grace
Hell no! We won't go! We refuse to run the race!
We’re tired, God, so bring on the fun.
The verdict is in. Guess what? We won!
Or did we, God? It's so dark, empty and hot down here.
Why didn't You let us come to You often and near?
What's that? You did? Divine Mercy You say?
But why didn't we listen and pay attention that day?
Oh, too, busy we were promoting Call To Action
and We are Church and other dissident factions!
We forged our own will on others not for God's sake But now we're sorry cause it was all just a little mistake! "Too late" we're told. But we said "Lord, Lord" a lot. What's that, Lord? You're saying "I know you not!"
"Master!" she cries out, with such joy and relief.
I understand that Jesus, now glorified, is also still with Lazarus at this very same moment.
Martha rushes forward and tries to kiss His feet. Jesus will not yet permit anyone to touch Him, but His Love is of such greatness that Martha can but cry.
"Did you think I was unaware of your unselfish joy? You exalted to know your sister had seen Me. You praised God for My Resurrection. Such faith and charity have brought Me here. Martha, you are forever My selfless servant. Great is the reward, which awaits you. I am always with you. Peace." And He is gone.
I am now in a new place. It is a home. Not ornate, but certainly not poor. A woman kneels against the hard wood of her bedstand and sobs broken-heartedly. Until a voice gently asks: "Why do you weep, woman?" The woman turns to see who has intruded upon her grief. The room is dark, the shutters drawn over the window. She sees the form of a man, His white tunic visible in the gloom.
"Sir? Why are you here? I seek only privacy."
"You weep, but there is no need."
"You do not understand. I…"
And Jesus allows all His Glory to shine forth upon this woman, who I recognize as the woman who wiped His face with her veil. "My God! My Lord!"
Her voice is changed to joy unsurpassed.
"Weep no more. Your eyes have seen, your soul recognized its God. I bless you for your love, and for the love, you gave My Mother. For all time your name shall be blessed, you who offered Me comfort when no one else dared. I am with you. Never be afraid. You have seen the Truth. You will speak this Truth to many, and they shall believe. Peace."
Then I am in still another house. A home which truly belongs to wealth. Again, I am told by our Heavenly Mother that all this is taking place simultaneously.
There is an exquisite rose garden. A woman walks among the rows of fragrant blossoms, head bent, sorrow in her every step and breath. Coming to the end of one row, she turns in order to pace back up another row. But her mournful steps stop as she sees the hem of a white tunic and she is startled. Abruptly she looks up and her eyes behold her beloved Jesus. His glory is suppressed now, but she recognizes Him.
Her hand goes out automatically to touch Him. Jesus raises His right hand and the nail mark is clearly visible to her.
"Johanna, know that I have heard your prayer. I have come so that in the following days your faith may be even stronger. Your husband will be greatly persecuted, but do not fear. No mortal harm shall befall him. It is through you, Johanna of Chuza, that he will yet come to receive the full light. Speak of our meeting to no one."
"Yes, My Lord. I will be silent."
He smiles at her and in that instant, all of His glory surrounds them both. Johanna seems to dissolve into this radiance.
"Peace, Johanna. Mourn no more, but rejoice. Soon you will join the other holy women where you will wait and pray beside My Mother. Until then, know that I am Risen. I give you Peace, and announce to you that you shall be for many women whose marriages are difficult, an example of joy and peace which is rewarded in the Father's time by the conversion of her spouse. I go now yet I remain with you. Peace!"
And Johanna falls to her knees. She cries, but out of joy, and I move on.
It is different now. I am still within the embrace of our Blessed Mother, but the sparse cell-like room in the house of the Last Supper is gone. I seem to be above Jerusalem, yet am able to still see details of streets, people, shadows. It is fully daylight. It must be past noon, and this I understand from the shadows I see below me.
I am able by God's power and mercy upon my wretchedness to 'see' interiorly that all those who were faithful to our Dear Lord and, by God's Providence, have been chosen to bear witness, are privileged to see Our Lord as the Risen Christ.
He, Our Lord, appears to Nicodemus, who has obviously suffered deeply for his own lack of faith in Jesus, the cowardliness that caused him to come to Our Lord's defense too late and with too little fervor. It appears the members of the temple, those that remind me of bullies and thugs have taken their anger out on Nicodemus by maltreating him. His face is badly bruised, his garments soiled, and he sits in the shadow of stairs that must lead to his dwelling.
Jesus suddenly stands before him. Our Lord, dressed in a white tunic, appears thoroughly ordinary.
"You have been maltreated," Our Lord says.
Nicodemus does not look up. He merely inclines his head and says in a deep, sad voice, "It is not important. What is done to my body is of no avail. It is my heart that is torn."
"I have failed. In faith. To Him, the Messiah."
Jesus speaks with authority and now Nicodemus raises his head and gazes at the man who is no more than a foot from him.
"You know me."
"Even your heart, Nicodemus. Look at Me!"
And the full Glory of His Risen Body is revealed. The brilliance shines upon Nicodemus' swollen face and the tears flow copiously from his eyes.
"My Lord, it is true! I did not believe the lie that your body had been stolen. O! My Lord, forgive me," Nicodemus has fallen to his knees.
"Arise, Nicodemus, and know you are forgiven. Your heart is renewed. Be no longer afraid. Go to your brothers at the House of the Pasch Supper. There you will pray and learn from them."
Before Nicodemus can respond, Jesus is gone.
St. Louis de Montfort was a devoted Dominican Tertiary who was an extraordinary preacher of the Rosary and prophecied many things about Mary's role in our times and of the Second Coming in which he predicted Mary would have a special role saying: "In the Second Coming of the Lord, Mary will be made known in a special way by the Holy Spirit so that through her, Jesus may be better known and served...Mary will shine forth higher than ever in these latter days to bring back poor sinners who have strayed from the Family of God." Well before Fatima, he prophecied that Mary's Heart would triumph and of her role as Co-Redemptrix, Advocate and Mediatrix of all graces. Pope John Paul II has called de Montfort "one of the great doctors of Marian Spirituality." This saint, totally devoted to Mary, founded the Congregations of the Missionaries of the Company of Mary (the Montfort Fathers) and the Daughters of Wisdom, an order of nuns devoted to Our Lady and the Holy Spirit. Born during the reign of Pope Clement X in 1673, St. Louis de Montfort died peacefully in 1716 during the papacy of Pope Clement XI.