Good Morning Friends & Digital Neighbors! Hello ADD Irregulars, Curmudgeons & Vagabonds of the Weird Shit Niche! Hey there Rubin Report Refugees, Phamily, and all you other outliers of the internet! We come to our final O Antiphon: Emmanuel — God with us. It is the name Jesus never gets called, even though Christians claim that’s exactly who He is. Obviously not everyone subscribes to the God-Man. (No subscription fee, but He does expect a life of conversion and discipleship.) Jesus or no Jesus, I hope you acknowledge some sort of Higher Power—something or someone higher than yourself in your life. If the face staring back at you in the mirror is your higher good, your higher power, shooting for the stars is probably not your thing. Narcissist much?
I can’t imagine any human going through life without a higher purpose. Far too many people seem to live with nothing greater than personal preference, the emotions of the moment, and the imposition of their will on whatever (or whoever) is in their path. I think such a life can leave people content in a greyscale sort of way, but the vibrancy of life will be missed—and I doubt it will ever be known. Even as I type this, I realize I could be among the self-deceived and delusional. Still, I think the rest of my life and conversations show some rationality and reason. (I know it’s limited and certainly questionable if you spend enough time with me.) Again, this is not stealth proselytizing. Everyone has their own path, guided by their own navigational system and the questions they’re willing to ponder.
We all ought to do some wrestling with the Mysterium in the dark hours of the night. It can be life-changing; it was for Jacob of biblical fame. That contentious twin was renamed Israel by the Divine. The Mysterium seems much happier with contentious seeking souls than with lip-servicing lackeys who say yes but never act on it. The doing matters far more than the thinking, and infinitely more than the feeling. God & Nike: Just Do It! Take me home 1988!
I don’t think the Divine wants non-stop contention. Some people never know when to celebrate the win, accept the arrival, and must find a new battle and a new hill. There comes a point when the battle is to maintain and secure what we treasure rather than to find another injustice to fight. (SJWs aren’t even mentioned much these days—they’ve been so thoroughly parasitized by WOKE activism that the term itself has faded.)
God with us. GOD—a lot of weight in those three letters for a Being that may not exist. I of course do believe, but I know many more who don’t, or who—if they do believe—treat it as something that doesn’t really matter. Again, no judgment, but there is a puzzled disappointment when people believe in something that doesn’t actually change anything. I guess I’d be asking: why bother? Sixty to seventy percent of Catholics don’t show up for worship, which should be the natural response once you’ve really received the message. God doesn’t need worship; His children do. Worship is the cultivating of our hearts to yield a harvest in this life and the next. It is acknowledging the Divine. In Cath-O-Land, there is a dance of humble contrition, attentive listening, grateful remembering, and mystical communion for those with open hearts and awakened souls.
Sure, there are commandments—every family has them—but transformation and imitation are the real work of worship, faith, and spirituality. Those are three different realities, but all interconnected. People often complain about religion and all the problems it has brought to the world. Might I suggest a more honest and humble target: humanity. Religion is just the tool when humanity goes on the warpath, when darker currents move our hearts. The real good of worthwhile religion is its ability to transform those darker realities, not justify them. Let that be your measuring stick for a religion’s worth. Look at what they profess to aspire to be, not what some fail to live up to. Good religions will have scandals; bad religions are a scandal. Sinful humanity is the common challenge.
Almost Merry Christmas! I hope there is some brush with joy, some small taste of peace, the presence of a few vibrant souls who accept you as you are—warts and all. Blessed Advent and Happy Tuesday dear neighbors!
Today marks the three hundred and thirtieth birthday of the Frenchman François-Marie Arouet, better known by his nom de plume, Voltaire (1694-1778).
Born into a bourgeois family during the reign of Louis XIV, the “Sun King” (r. 1643-1715), Voltaire suffered tragedy at a young age when his mother died. Never close with his father or brother, Voltaire exhibited a rebellious attitude toward authority from his youth. His brilliant mind was fostered in the care of the Society of Jesus, who introduced him to the joys of literature and theater. Despite his later criticisms against the Church, Voltaire, throughout his life, fondly recalled his dedicated Jesuit teachers.
Although he spent time as a civil servant in the French embassy to the Hague, Voltaire’s main love was writing—an endeavor where he excelled in various genres, including poetry, which led to his appointment as the royal court poet for King Louis XV. Widely recognized as one of the greatest French writers, and even hyperbolically referred to by ...
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2026 Coffee Talk with the ADD Irregulars
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XIII
The Proud Minister
One day there came into the Garden a man in torn clothes badly bruised and cut, who said to the Lover, “In the name of the Beloved I demand your help.”
So the Lover and the Disciple let him in and dressed his wounds and prepared the best of the vegetables from the Garden for him to eat. When his wounds had been dressed and he had eaten and rested the Lover asked him how he had fallen into this plight, to which the man replied, “I was Minister of the Beloved in a city near this place, where I preached His gospel and expounded His doctrine to the people. I pointed out to them how their sins had made them wholly hateful to the Beloved and how therefore they were utterly beyond the range of His love and He would condemn them to eternal torments, whereon some fell into despair and wept bitterly but many were angry. One day the magistrates called me before them and begged me to leave the city and preach elsewhere for they said I had made many people so angry and desperate that they feared there might be a riot and they might not be able to protect me but that I might suffer some injury. I, however, very zealous for the Beloved and believing that the magistrates only feared that their own sins might be proclaimed, preached the more vehemently, denounced the magistrates and made it abundantly clear that the whole wicked city was foredoomed to eternal punishment by the just provision of the Beloved. Whereon a mob, stirred up no doubt by the corrupt and venal magistrates, fell upon me with sticks and stones, nearly killing me and driving me out of the city in the state in which I came to you.”
“My friend,” said the Lover, “this was not a good deed of yours, for besides denying the unfathomable compassion of the Beloved, you have by your obstinacy caused these people to commit a grievous sin, and this cannot be pleasing to the Beloved, that through you who profess to be His minister the people should become worse. Surely you remember that He Himself said, ‘If they persecute you in one city flee to another.’”
Therefore the man was very angry, and cursing the Lover, said, “I see that I have had a very false report of you and I do not believe that you are a servant of the Beloved at all. When I came to you so injured for the Beloved’s sake you set before me only herbs and fruits although the garden is full of birds which you could have killed to make me a worthy meal. I shall proclaim everywhere that you are no true servant of the Beloved but a mere falterer who dares not suffer in the cause of the Beloved. Be sure that you are foreordained to eternal torments who suffer nothing here.”
For the man was so blinded by his own pride that he could not perceive the scars on the hands and feet and the brows of the Lover nor how the cloth beneath the armpits of his tunic was dyed with a red dye. So he went out of the Garden cursing and shouting.
But the Lover looked sad and said, “A man like this does much harm to the cause of the Beloved, for by thus speaking falsely about the Beloved he may bring men to fear Him but none to love Him, and by love alone can any man approach the Beloved.”
