- Nov 26, 2007
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It's pretty difficult to put this here, but I know I need the prayer, I have to share this...maybe its pride, maybe I just want attention...I don't really want to know, I just want prayer.
You know, there are times when I preach when no-one is listening. It happened today...I think the fact that I had a cup of Costa Rican coffee certainly moved things along a bit in my little "homily" as I was about as impassioned as a Pentecostal.
Today, my sermon was about the radical salvation that comes from being "In Christ." The main thrust of the sermon appears to have been the danger of mortal sin and fleeing from it. I kept stressing to my imaginary audience that sin suffocates the life of God in us and kills us and left unrepentant will lead to hell. I preached of the forgiveness of the sacrament of Confession and how sin damages even those whom we love most...our Christian brothers and sisters.
It was one of the best sermons to date, if not the best from my own judgement of this odd practice that I sometimes feel compelled to do when no-one is watching.
But again this evening I am reminded of how pitifully weak we are..the "preacher" could not abide by his own word.
I am in the dust again. All the victories of the past months feel so hollow at this moment. The surfeit, that thing which I have known all along cannot satisfy me, called to me again. And again I ran to it and again the prostitute left me alone...with the cold ache of emptiness.
Forgive me, but I am hurting and I respond to pain like this with poetics...so I can hide myself from my guilt.
It hurts...it still hurts. I feel utterly defeated. I dare not even try to contemplate the damage I have done to myself or to the Church....and to those whom I love most with what I have done. I remember now that emptiness, that wound that begs me to cry....to weep in bitterness over what I have done.
And the "archdemon", Asmodeus, whispers:
"It's not worth it....you are mine, my slave, and you will never be free."
And now...I feel stuck. There is no turning around. If I throw down the baptismal robe in the dirt, as I have done before, I will live the rest of my life chasing this same surfeit..until I either kill myself or die of folly. But I chase shadows, that "beautiful" protistute who takes my inheritance and rewards my "gift" to her with emptiness and loss. Her kisses do not linger, and in time they burn. No, I cannot go back to Paganism. Even if I model myself a "noble Patrician and servant of Jupiter", I will be dying in my heart.
...Because I am in love. I am hopelessly lost in love.
But the One whom I love, I have denied before...and tonight I did so again, although not by words. This One whom I profess to be deathly in love with is now covered with shame.
My other option is to pursue this One whom I love. But it's so hard! Everytime I try, I fall down again and again. I work so hard, but I am always found tossed aside by the great things that oppose me. I am just not strong enough, I can't do this. And what is worse I think He is calling to go even deeper, perhaps so deep that He wants to use me to act in ways that I dare not act. For if I stand in the altar I stand as a mere servant not a presider.
And so I am stuck. And what's worse is that I know which path I must take, but I don't want to keep going through with this again and again. I don't want to keep having to come to Confession relaying this same disease again and again. I don't want my tongue to touch Him again, until I can say that I clean enough to touch ta hagia..."holy things for the Holy One."
How tempting the fence seems now, to stand in limbo as it were...betwixt life and death. But to be on the fence is to die, but at the very least we can entertain the illusion that we are alive.....illusions like the protistute.
I am a slave of Asmodeus! His grip is strong, again I kneel at his throne and kiss his festering feet in homage. Again and again I betray the One whom I do love in my inmost self, and bow before Asmodeus and the rotting corpses that have already passed into eternity, forever to decay and eternally die in his wretched place of lust, of which he is so splendidly a patron.
Sometimes, as I am doing now, I like to shake my fist in pride of my sins at my Lover and say: "What can you do with a man like me?"
And He responds with a smile. That smile tells me that my tiny little fist and childish pride is nothing compared to His immensity and in this smile He says: "I have made saints out of worse men than you."
Again, as I have had to say many times before......He doesn't play fair!!
I know what I must do, but I just, I just want Him to hold me again. Is it so much to ask? Ok... yeah, I fell, but can't He just hold me like He used to? Because right now it hurts, it hurts to know that I cannot be at His altar until I am free from this and complete another round of exomologesis: confession and penance. It hurts to know that I am dead inside.
He told me that He is always by my side, wherever I fall He is there.....and so I will not rest until He comes to me as has done before. I will do penance for my failure that I may not be a stumbling block to those I love. I will go to confession on Saturday and declare everything.
But until then I will seek Him out, I wilI hunt Him down. When I denied Him, He came searching for me and found me. Now I am going to search for Him, and I will cast myself at His feet and demand that He hold me in His arms, and I will sit there at His feet until He does, I will badger Him incessantly until He holds me again.
If I die from the hunt for His Face.....then I will die and go to hell knowing that.... at my final moments....I was at the feet of Jesus Christ and even though I may have been under Asmodeus' thumb.....I was still not at his feet, but before the Throne of God.
Pray for me that I will find Him....that I will weep bitterly over my deeds and so be washed with the baptism of tears of repentance and make sweet wine from eyes for the seraphim to drink.
Pray that when I find Him, He holds me.
Pray that I drag all of this filth out in Confession and that I may finally receive peace from the Sacrament.
Pray that when I come home, He falls on me, kisses my neck, enrobes me and gives me His ring. For I need His kiss, I need to feel His tears on my neck as He weeps for joy. I need to hear His song of praise as He sings over me.
Please pray, because even now Asmodeus fans the fires in me.....
Most of this is probably just me being a melodramatic teenager seeking attention and feeling alone right now and desiring to vent with lots of useless verbiage to hide behind.... but it does hurt to have fallen down again...I can't stand that emptiness!
I need to know that I am being prayed for.
You know, there are times when I preach when no-one is listening. It happened today...I think the fact that I had a cup of Costa Rican coffee certainly moved things along a bit in my little "homily" as I was about as impassioned as a Pentecostal.
Today, my sermon was about the radical salvation that comes from being "In Christ." The main thrust of the sermon appears to have been the danger of mortal sin and fleeing from it. I kept stressing to my imaginary audience that sin suffocates the life of God in us and kills us and left unrepentant will lead to hell. I preached of the forgiveness of the sacrament of Confession and how sin damages even those whom we love most...our Christian brothers and sisters.
It was one of the best sermons to date, if not the best from my own judgement of this odd practice that I sometimes feel compelled to do when no-one is watching.
But again this evening I am reminded of how pitifully weak we are..the "preacher" could not abide by his own word.
I am in the dust again. All the victories of the past months feel so hollow at this moment. The surfeit, that thing which I have known all along cannot satisfy me, called to me again. And again I ran to it and again the prostitute left me alone...with the cold ache of emptiness.
Forgive me, but I am hurting and I respond to pain like this with poetics...so I can hide myself from my guilt.
It hurts...it still hurts. I feel utterly defeated. I dare not even try to contemplate the damage I have done to myself or to the Church....and to those whom I love most with what I have done. I remember now that emptiness, that wound that begs me to cry....to weep in bitterness over what I have done.
And the "archdemon", Asmodeus, whispers:
"It's not worth it....you are mine, my slave, and you will never be free."
And now...I feel stuck. There is no turning around. If I throw down the baptismal robe in the dirt, as I have done before, I will live the rest of my life chasing this same surfeit..until I either kill myself or die of folly. But I chase shadows, that "beautiful" protistute who takes my inheritance and rewards my "gift" to her with emptiness and loss. Her kisses do not linger, and in time they burn. No, I cannot go back to Paganism. Even if I model myself a "noble Patrician and servant of Jupiter", I will be dying in my heart.
...Because I am in love. I am hopelessly lost in love.
But the One whom I love, I have denied before...and tonight I did so again, although not by words. This One whom I profess to be deathly in love with is now covered with shame.
My other option is to pursue this One whom I love. But it's so hard! Everytime I try, I fall down again and again. I work so hard, but I am always found tossed aside by the great things that oppose me. I am just not strong enough, I can't do this. And what is worse I think He is calling to go even deeper, perhaps so deep that He wants to use me to act in ways that I dare not act. For if I stand in the altar I stand as a mere servant not a presider.
And so I am stuck. And what's worse is that I know which path I must take, but I don't want to keep going through with this again and again. I don't want to keep having to come to Confession relaying this same disease again and again. I don't want my tongue to touch Him again, until I can say that I clean enough to touch ta hagia..."holy things for the Holy One."
How tempting the fence seems now, to stand in limbo as it were...betwixt life and death. But to be on the fence is to die, but at the very least we can entertain the illusion that we are alive.....illusions like the protistute.
I am a slave of Asmodeus! His grip is strong, again I kneel at his throne and kiss his festering feet in homage. Again and again I betray the One whom I do love in my inmost self, and bow before Asmodeus and the rotting corpses that have already passed into eternity, forever to decay and eternally die in his wretched place of lust, of which he is so splendidly a patron.
Sometimes, as I am doing now, I like to shake my fist in pride of my sins at my Lover and say: "What can you do with a man like me?"
And He responds with a smile. That smile tells me that my tiny little fist and childish pride is nothing compared to His immensity and in this smile He says: "I have made saints out of worse men than you."
Again, as I have had to say many times before......He doesn't play fair!!
I know what I must do, but I just, I just want Him to hold me again. Is it so much to ask? Ok... yeah, I fell, but can't He just hold me like He used to? Because right now it hurts, it hurts to know that I cannot be at His altar until I am free from this and complete another round of exomologesis: confession and penance. It hurts to know that I am dead inside.
He told me that He is always by my side, wherever I fall He is there.....and so I will not rest until He comes to me as has done before. I will do penance for my failure that I may not be a stumbling block to those I love. I will go to confession on Saturday and declare everything.
But until then I will seek Him out, I wilI hunt Him down. When I denied Him, He came searching for me and found me. Now I am going to search for Him, and I will cast myself at His feet and demand that He hold me in His arms, and I will sit there at His feet until He does, I will badger Him incessantly until He holds me again.
If I die from the hunt for His Face.....then I will die and go to hell knowing that.... at my final moments....I was at the feet of Jesus Christ and even though I may have been under Asmodeus' thumb.....I was still not at his feet, but before the Throne of God.
Pray for me that I will find Him....that I will weep bitterly over my deeds and so be washed with the baptism of tears of repentance and make sweet wine from eyes for the seraphim to drink.
Pray that when I find Him, He holds me.
Pray that I drag all of this filth out in Confession and that I may finally receive peace from the Sacrament.
Pray that when I come home, He falls on me, kisses my neck, enrobes me and gives me His ring. For I need His kiss, I need to feel His tears on my neck as He weeps for joy. I need to hear His song of praise as He sings over me.
Please pray, because even now Asmodeus fans the fires in me.....
Most of this is probably just me being a melodramatic teenager seeking attention and feeling alone right now and desiring to vent with lots of useless verbiage to hide behind.... but it does hurt to have fallen down again...I can't stand that emptiness!
I need to know that I am being prayed for.