Devils Rejects Quotes

Luscious, aren't I, poppet? Go on, stare. I don't mind.” -“You look like a Dracula porn movie reject” -“Let‟s not speak of him. Like the devil, Vlad might appear if we do.” Denise & Ian

Satanism has been frequently misrepresented as “devil worship”, when in fact it constitutes a clear rejection of all forms of worship as a desirable component of the personality.

Our people think: I , Wangari, a Kenyan by birth - how can I be a vagrant in my own country as if I were a foreigner.

Rejection of the unknown is tantamount to “identification with the devil,” the mythological counterpart and eternal adversary of the world-creating exploratory hero. Such rejection and identification is a consequence of Luciferian pride, which states: all that I know is all that is necessary to know. This pride is totalitarian assumption of omniscience – is adoption of “God’s place” by “reason” – is something that inevitably generates a state of personal and social being indistinguishable from hell. This hell develops because creative exploration – impossible, without (humble) acknowledgment of the unknown – constitutes the process that constructs and maintains the protective adaptive structure that gives life much of its acceptable meaning

To everyone who dreamed of being kidnapped by the devil. Because we’re fucked up like that. Embrace your darkness.

Too many people, when they reject God, go on believing in the devil. Many intellectuals have a sense of evil without a confidence in good.

Faustus, who embraced evil and shunned righteousness, became the foremost symbol of the misuse of free will, that sublime gift from God with its inherent opportunity to choose virtue and reject iniquity. “What shall a man gain if he has the whole world and lose his soul,” (Matt. 16: v. 26) - but for a notorious name, the ethereal shadow of a career, and a brief life of fleeting pleasure with no true peace? This was the blackest and most captivating tragedy of all, few could have remained indifferent to the growing intrigue of this individual who apparently shook hands with the devil and freely chose to descend to the molten, sulphuric chasm of Hell for all eternity for so little in exchange. It is a drama that continues to fascinate today as powerfully as when Faustus first disseminated his infamous card in the Heidelberg locale to the scandal of his generation. In fine, a life of good or evil, the hope of Heaven or the despair of Hell, Faustus stands as a reminder that the choice between these two absolutes also falls to us.

most people interpret silence as rejection!

Of such rejected pieces of ourselves are our devils made.

When I became convinced that the Universe is natural – that all the ghosts and gods are myths, there entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood, the sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom. The walls of my prison crumbled and fell, the dungeon was flooded with light and all the bolts, and bars, and manacles became dust. I was no longer a servant, a serf or a slave. There was for me no master in all the wide world -- not even in infinite space. I was free -- free to think, to express my thoughts -- free to live to my own ideal -- free to live for myself and those I loved -- free to use all my faculties, all my senses -- free to spread imagination's wings -- free to investigate, to guess and dream and hope -- free to judge and determine for myself -- free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds, all the "inspired" books that savages have produced, and all the barbarous legends of the past -- free from popes and priests -- free from all the "called" and "set apart" -- free from sanctified mistakes and holy lies -- free from the fear of eternal pain -- free from the winged monsters of the night -- free from devils, ghosts and gods. For the first time I was free. There were no prohibited places in all the realms of thought -- no air, no space, where fancy could not spread her painted wings -- no chains for my limbs -- no lashes for my back -- no fires for my flesh -- no master's frown or threat – no following another's steps -- no need to bow, or cringe, or crawl, or utter lying words. I was free. I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously, faced all worlds. And then my heart was filled with gratitude, with thankfulness, and went out in love to all the heroes, the thinkers who gave their lives for the liberty of hand and brain -- for the freedom of labor and thought -- to those who fell on the fierce fields of war, to those who died in dungeons bound with chains -- to those who proudly mounted scaffold's stairs -- to those whose bones were crushed, whose flesh was scarred and torn -- to those by fire consumed -- to all the wise, the good, the brave of every land, whose thoughts and deeds have given freedom to the sons of men. And then I vowed to grasp the torch that they had held, and hold it high, that light might conquer darkness still.

If I were not a Catholic, and were looking for the true Church in the world today, I would look for the one Church which did not get along well with the world; in other words, I would look for the Church which the world hates. My reason for doing this would be, that if Christ is in any one of the churches of the world today, He must still be hated as He was when He was on earth in the flesh. If you would find Christ today, then find the Church that does not get along with the world. Look for the Church that is hated by the world, as Christ was hated by the world. Look for the Church which is accused of being behind the times, as Our Lord was accused of being ignorant and never having learned. Look for the Church which men sneer at as socially inferior, as they sneered at Our Lord because He came from Nazareth. Look for the Church which is accused of having a devil, as Our Lord was accused of being possessed by Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils. Look for the Church which theworld rejects because it claims it is infallible, as Pilate rejected Christ because he called Himself the Truth. Look for the Church which amid the confusion of conflicting opinions, its members love as they love Christ, and respect its voice as the very voice of its Founder, and the suspicion will grow, that if the Church is unpopular with the spirit of the world, then it is unworldly, and if it is unworldly, it is other-worldly. Since it is other-worldly, it is infinitely loved and infinitely hated as was Christ Himself. ... the Catholic Church is the only Church existing today which goes back to the time of Christ. History is so very clear on this point, it is curious how many miss its obviousness...

My blood, sweat and tears My last dance Take it away My blood, sweat and tears My cold breath Take it away My blood, sweat and tears Even my blood, sweat and tears Even my body, heart and soul I know that it’s all yours This is a spell that’ll punish me Peaches and cream Sweeter than sweet Chocolate cheeks And chocolate wings But your wings are wings of the devil In front of your sweet is bitter bitter Kiss me, I don’t care if it hurts, Hurry and choke me So I can’t hurt any more Baby, I don’t care if I get drunk, I’ll drink you in now Your whiskey, deep into my throat My blood, sweat and tears My last dance Take it away My blood, sweat and tears My cold breath Take it away I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I don’t care if it hurts, tie me up So I can’t run away Grab me tightly and shake me So I can’t snap out of it Kiss me on the lips lips, Our own little secret I wanna be addicted to your prison So I can’t serve anyone that’s not you Even though I know, I drink the poisonous Holy Grail My blood, sweat and tears My last dance Take it away My blood, sweat and tears My cold breath Take it away I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I want you a lot, a lot, a lot I want you a lot, a lot, a lot Kill me softly Close my eyes with your touch I can’t even reject you anyway I can’t run away anymore You’re too sweet, too sweet Because you’re too sweet My blood, sweat and tears My blood, sweat and tears

There was terror in each and every one of the people on that beautiful beach and on that breathtakingly beautiful evening. Terror of being alone, terror of the darkness filling their imaginations with devils, terror of doing anything not in the manuals of good behaviour, terror of God's judgement, of what other people would say, of the law punishing any mistake, terror of trying and failing, terror of succeeding and having to live with the envy of other people, terror of loving and being rejected, terror of asking for a rise in salary, of accepting an invitation, of going somewhere new, of not being able to speak a foreign language, of not making the right impression, of growing old, of dying, of being pointed on because of one's defects, of not being pointed out because of one's merits, of not being noticed either for one's defects or one's merits. Terror, terror, terror. Life was a reign of terror, in the shadow of the guillotine.

This is why the Word of God exhorts husbands to love their wives, wives to love their husbands, parents to love their children and Christians to love one another. Love defeats the devil, but rejection opens a door of opportunity for the devil to do an evil work.

Dickens has not seen it all. The wretched of the earth do not decide to become extinct, they resolve, on the contrary, to multiply: life is their only weapon against life, life is all that they have. This is why the dispossessed and starving will never be convinced (though some may be coerced) by the population-control programs of the civilized. I have watched the dispossessed and starving laboring in the fields which others own, with their transistor radios at their ear, all day long: so they learn, for example, along with equally weighty matters, that the pope, one of the heads of the civilized world, forbids to the civilized that abortion which is being, literally, forced on them, the wretched. The civilized have created the wretched, quite coldly and deliberately, and do not intend to change the status quo; are responsible for their slaughter and enslavement; rain down bombs on defenseless children whenever and wherever they decide that their ‘vital interests’ are menaced, and think nothing of torturing a man to death: these people are not to be taken seriously when they speak of the ‘sanctity’ of human life, or the ‘conscience’ of the civilized world. There is a ‘sanctity’ involved with bringing a child into this world: it is better than bombing one out of it. Dreadful indeed it is to see a starving child, but the answer to that is not to prevent the child’s arrival but to restructure the world so that the child can live in it: so that the ‘vital interest’ of the world becomes nothing less than the life of the child. However—I could not have said any of this then, nor is so absurd a notion about to engulf the world now. But we were all starving children, after all, and none of our fathers, even at their most embittered and enraged, had ever suggested that we ‘die out.’ It was not we who were supposed to die out: this was, of all notions, the most forbidden, and we learned this from the cradle. Every trial, every beating, every drop of blood, every tear, were meant to be used by us for a day that was coming—for a day that was certainly coming, absolutely certainly, certainly coming: not for us, perhaps, but for our children. The children of the despised and rejected are menaced from the moment they stir in the womb, and are therefore sacred in a way that the children of the saved are not. And the children know it, which is how they manage to raise their children, and why they will not be persuaded—by their children’s murderers, after all—to cease having children.

Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home, and must look far and wide to find one. Home is the center of my being, where I can hear the voice that says, “You are my beloved. On you my favor rests,” the same voice that gave life to the first Adam and spoke to Jesus, the second Adam. The same voice that speaks to all the children of God and sets them free to live in the midst of a dark world while remaining in the light. I have heard that voice. It has spoken to me in the past and continues to speak to me now. It is the never-interrupted voice of love speaking from eternity and giving life and love wherever it is heard. When I hear that voice, I know that I am home with God and have nothing to fear. As the beloved of my heavenly Father, “I can walk in the valley of darkness: no evil would I fear.” As the beloved I can “cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils.” Having “received without charge,” I can “give without charge.” As the Beloved, I can confront, console, admonish, and encourage without fear of rejection or need for affirmation. As the Beloved I can suffer persecution without desire for revenge and receive praise without using it as a proof of my goodness. As the Beloved I can be tortured and killed without ever having to doubt that the love that is given to me is stronger than death. As the Beloved I am free to live and give life, free also to die while giving life. Jesus has made it clear to me that the same voice that he heard at the river Jordan and on Mount Tabor can also be heard by me.

It is a terrible thing, simply, to be trapped in one's history, and attempt, in the same motion (and in this, our life!) to accept, deny, reject, and redeem it--and, also, on whatever level, to profit from it.

If, then, we establish solid devotion to our Blessed Lady, it is only to establish more perfectly devotion to Jesus Christ, and to provide an easy and secure means for finding Jesus Christ. If devotion to Our Lady removed us from Jesus Christ, we should have to reject it as an illusion of the devil; but so far from this being the case, devotion to Our Lady is, on the contrary, necessary for us—as I have already shown, and will show still further hereafter—as a means of finding Jesus Christ perfectly, of loving Him tenderly, of serving Him faithfully.

The beauty myth posited to women a false choice: Which will I be, sexual or serious? We must reject that false and forced dilemma. Men’s sexuality is taken to be enhanced by their seriousness; to be at the same time a serious person and a sexual being is to be fully human. Let’s turn on those who offer this devil’s bargain and refuse to believe that in choosing one aspect of the self we must thereby forfeit the other. In a world in which women have real choices, the choices we make about our appearance will be taken at last for what they really are: no big deal.

Many people reject Christ because they feel they can’t live a Christian life. Well, nobody can live a Christian life—without help.” I thought when you accepted Christ you had to be perfect, but he said, “Christ has promised to help you. He said, ‘I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness. If you have problems in life, cast all your cares on me, for I care for you.

My mother said, "Arturo, stop that. Your sister's tired." "Oh Holy Ghost, Oh Holy inflated triple ego, get us out of the depression. Elect Roosevelt. Keep us on the gold standard. Take France off, but for Christ's sake keep us on!" "Arturo, stop that" "Oh Jehovah, in your infinite mutability see if you can't scrape up some coin for the Bandini family." My mother said, "Shame, Arturo. Shame." I got up on the divan and yelled, "I reject the hypothesis of God! Down with the decadence of a fraudulent Christianity! Religion is the opium of the people! All that we are or ever hope to be we owe to the devil and his bootleg apples!" My mother came after me with the broom.

[The Devil] "This legend is about paradise. There was, they say, a certain thinker and philospher here on your earth, who 'rejected all--laws, conscience faith, and, above all, the future life. He died and thought he'd go straight into darkness and death, but no--there was the future life before him. He was amazed and indignant. 'This,' he said, 'goes against my convictions.' So for that he was sentenced...I mean, you see, I beg your pardon, I'm repeating what I heard, it's just a legend...you see, he was sentenced to walk in darkness a quadrillion kilometers (we also use kilometers now), and once he finished that quadrillion, the doors of paradise would be open to him and he would be forgiven everything...Well, so this man sentenced to the quadrillion stood a while, looked, and then lay down across the road: 'I dont want to go, I refuse to go on principle!' Take the soul of an enlightened Russian atheist and mix it with the soul of the prophet Jonah, who sulked in the belly of a whale for three days and three nights--you'll get the character of this thinker lying in the road...He lay there for nearly a thousand years, and then got up and started walking." "What an ass!" Ivan exclaimed, bursting into nervous laughter, still apparently trying hard to figure something out. "isn't it all the same whether he lies there forever or walks a quadrillion kilometers? It must be about a billion years' walk!" "Much more, even. If we had a pencil and paper, we could work it out. But he arrived long ago, and this is where the anecdote begins." "Arrived! But where did he get a billion years?" "You keep thinking about our present earth! But our present earth may have repeated itself a billion times; it died out, lets say, got covered with ice, cracked, fell to pieces, broke down into its original components, again there were the waters above the firmament, then again a comet, again the sun, again the earth from the sun--all this development may already have been repeated an infinite number of times, and always in the same way, to the last detail. A most unspeakable bore... "Go on, what happened when he arrived?" "The moment the doors of paradise were opened and he went in, before he had even been there two seconds--and that by the watch--before he had been there two seconds, he exclaimed that for those two seconds it would be worth walking not just a quadrillion kilometers, but a quadrillion quadrillion, even raised to the quadrillionth power! In short, he sang 'Hosannah' and oversweetened it so much that some persons there, of a nobler cast of mind, did not even want to shake hands with him at first: he jumped over to the conservatives a bit too precipitously. The Russian character. I repeat: it's a legend.

You can’t call yourself a Christian and discriminate against others, especially innocent people. Jesus rejected no one. That’s nothing but the devil!

The public debate plays out in an infinite regress of blame over who’s responsible for those who fail to fit the standard erotic mold. This is variously ascribed to the people choosing to be the deviants they are, porn, the Devil (always a shoo-in), bad parents, poor role models, our sexually repressed culture, or the psychiatrists who keep needling sexual minorities by branding them mentally ill. It’s a rabbit hole of endless (and usually endlessly bad) arguments. Morally, all that matters—and allow me to reiterate that because I feel it’s quite important, all that matters—is whether a person’s sexual deviancy is demonstrably harmful. If it’s not, and we reject the person anyway, then we’re not the good guys in this scenario; we’re the bad guys.

You dare laugh at the fall of Suyodhana and all the noble men like Bhishma, my father, Karna, and the others who fought for him? Read Jaya to know how Karna rejected the temptation to become Emperor and instead chose to stand by the man who had given him everything when he had nothing. Read how Karna was trapped by own nobility, how impossible promises were extracted from him; know how he was shot while extracting the wheel of his chariot that was stuck in the mud. Know that Arjuna did not keep his word, as any honourable warrior would have done, when he failed to kill Jayadratha before sunset, hiding behind the lame excuse that the sunset had been maya, an illusion created by an avatar. Sleep in your beds peacefully by all means, if your conscience still allows you to do so, you lucky devils.

Then the voice - which identified itself as the prince of this world, the only being who really knows what happens on Earth - began to show him the people around him on the beach. The wonderful father who was busy packing things up and helping his children put on some warm clothes and who would love to have an affair with his secretary, but was terrified on his wife's response. His wife who would like to work and have her independence, but who was terrified of her husband's response. The children who behave themselves because they were terrified of being punished. The girl who was reading a book all on her own beneath the sunshade, pretending she didn't care, but inside was terrified of spending the rest of her life alone. The boy running around with a tennis racuqet , terrified of having to live up to his parents' expectations. The waiter serving tropical drinks to the rich customers and terrified that he could be sacket at any moment. The young girl who wanted to be a dance, but who was studying law instead because she was terrified of what the neighbours might say. The old man who didn't smoke or drink and said he felt much better for it, when in truth it was the terror of death what whispered in his ears like the wind. The married couple who ran by, splashing through the surf, with a smile on their face but with a terror in their hearts telling them that they would soon be old, boring and useless. The man with the suntan who swept up in his launch in front of everybody and waved and smiled, but was terrified because he could lose all his money from one moment to the next. The hotel owner, watching the whole idyllic scene from his office, trying to keep everyone happy and cheerful, urging his accountants to ever greater vigilance, and terrified because he knew that however honest he was government officials would still find mistakes in his accounts if they wanted to. There was terror in each and every one of the people on that beautiful beach and on that breathtakingly beautiful evening. Terror of being alone, terror of the darkness filling their imaginations with devils, terror of doing anything not in the manuals of good behaviour, terror of God's punishing any mistake, terror of trying and failing, terror of succeeding and having to live with the envy of other people, terror of loving and being rejected, terror of asking for a rise in salary, of accepting an invitation, of going somewhere new, of not being able to speak a foreign language, of not making the right impression, of growing old, of dying, of being pointed out because of one's defects, of not being pointed out because of one's merits, of not being noticed either for one's defects of one's merits.

If only I could cry. I am beyond that. The light, the light, lending itself to empty downtown Saturday, but still the stupid insensate cars flush by oblivious to their stupidity, my silent plea. It isn't Mexico. It's not Paris. It's a painting by Hopper come to life. I am trapped inside a dead thing. Language is impossible here, even in English. Who has the arrogance to say: I'm mad, this is my crazy view of things, help me. I'm trapped in a silent world, a tableau of forty years ago. The walls are different, the tables, the heights of the veiling and the chairs. I loom above this letter. The view past the rows of cakes in the plate glass window is unfamiliar. I am a ghost. There is nothing now between me and death. Death is the unfamiliarity of everything, the strangeness of the once familiar. The same spatial configurations only the light is hollow, sick. I think I lack the energy to hit expensive discos which I don't know where they are to be rejected tonight. I look passable. My energy's low. I love to dance but despair is not a good muse. This Mexico, babe. Men who don't love you but act wildly as if they do initially. Self-involved, narcissistic men... The men drink and philosophize about pain. The women live it solo and culturelessly. No one cries, except easily, sentimentally. The devil, therefore God, exists. Oaxaca was a pushover compared to this. Pain had boundaries there. Spare us big cities, oh lord!

A wonderful point in favor of some kind of hereafter is this: When the mind rejects as childishly absurd a paradise with musical angels or abstract colonnades with Horace and Milton in togas conversing and walking together through the eternal twilight, or the protracted voluptas of the orient or any other eternity -- such as the one with devils and porcupines -- we forget that if we could have imagined life before living it would have seemed more improbable than all our hereafters

• What unites them is an almost reckless desire to test themselves in the most extreme circumstances. In many respects the life they have chosen is a complete rejection of the hyped, consumerist American dream as it is dished out in reality TV shows and pop-song lyrics. They've chosen asceticism over consumption. Instead of celebrating their individualism, theyíve subjugated theirs to the collective will of an institution. Their highest aspiration is self-sacrifice over self-preservation.

When in the seventh century King Redwald of East Anglia provided one altar in his church to sacrifice to Christ, and another small one to offer victims to devils,1 he was not behaving childishly, or cunningly hoping to get the best of both worlds, but merely acting according to normal heathen custom, since acceptance of one god did not mean that one wholly rejected one’s neighbour’s deity. This indeed must have been one of the most difficult lessons for the new converts to Christianity to learn, and while they gained in single-mindedness, it is to be feared that they lost much of their old spirit of tolerance. The

There was terror in each and every one of the people on that beautiful beach and on that breathtakingly beautiful evening. Terror of being alone, terror of the darkness filling their imaginations with devils, terror of doing anything not in the manuals of good behavior, terror of God’s judgment, of what other people would say, of the law punishing any mistake, terror of trying and failing, terror of succeeding and having to live with the envy of o ther people, terror of loving and being rejected, terror of asking for a rise in salary, of accepting an invitation, of going somewhere new, of not being able to speak a foreign language, of not making the right impression, of growing old, of dying, of being pointed on because of one’s defects, of not being pointed out because of one’s merits, of not being noticed either for one’s defects or one’s merits. Terror, terror, terror. Life was a reign of terror, in the shadow of the guillotine. (the devil’s words)

Faith does not tolerate criticism. It breeds fanaticism. Quite simply, it is an eternal curse. It mires humanity in ignorance. It denounces Reason as the “Devil’s whore.” The human race cannot advance until it has overcome stupidity and rejected faith once and for all. The power of the Demiurge would be shattered overnight.

Poor devil! None of us can have the remotest idea of the agony it is to be despised and rejected of men. A cancer in the soul and then madness. The feeling of there being a curtain, more invisible than gauze, stronger than iron, between one’s self and one’s fellow man. To cry out of the abyss and to know that there will be no answer, that one is buried alive.

Science has never killed or persecuted a single person for doubting or denying its teaching, and most of these teaching have been true; but religion has murdered millions for doubting or denying her dogmas and most of these dogmas have been false. All stories about gods and devils, of heavens and hells, as they do not conform to nature, and are not apparent to sense, should be rejected without consideration. Beyond the universe there is nothing and within the universe the supernatural does not and cannot exist. Of all deceivers who have plagued mankind, none are so deeply ruinous to human happiness as those imposters who pretend to lead by a light above nature. The lips of the dead are closed forever. There comes no voice from the tomb. Christianity is responsible for having cast the fable of eternal fire over almost every grave.

Our culture's official rejection of the Crone figure was related to rejection of women, particularly elder women. The gray-haired high priestesses, once respected tribal matriarchs of pre-Christian Europe, were transformed by the newly dominant patriarchy into minions of the devil. Through the Middle Ages, this trend gathered momentum, finally developing a frenzy that legally murdered millions of elder women from the twelfth to the nineteenth centuries.

Rather than try to restore what had been, the Reconstruction Congress decides to build something new. There will be no more compromises with slavery, no more deals with the devil. The Black soldiers who fought for the United States in its war against traitors will be citizens, and as citizens they will have rights. Reconstruction destroys the Founders’ Constitution—and not by the method the Founders’ Constitution sets out. It is not a fulfillment of the Founders’ vision, but a rejection of it, a recognition of its failure.

And the extraordinary thing is that according to these texts all powers, all the power and glory of the kingdoms, all that has to do with politics and political authority, belongs to the devil. It has all been given to him and he gives it to whom he wills. Those who hold political power receive it from him and depend upon him. (It is astonishing that in the innumerable theological discussions of the legitimacy of political power, no one has ever adduced these texts! [Matthew 4:8-9; Luke 4:6-7]) This fact is no less important than the fact that Jesus rejects the devil's offer. Jesus does not say to the devil: It is not true. You do not have power over kingdoms and states. He does not dispute this claim. He refuses the offer of power because the devil demands that he should fall down before him. This is the sole point when he says: 'You shall worship the Lord your God and you shall serve him, only him' (Matthew 4:10). We may thus say that among Jesus' immediate followers and in the first Christian generation political authorities - what we call the state - belonged to the devil and those who held power received it from him.

Della sank down beside the creek, waiting for the flash of white fur that would herald Tidda's arrival. The first time she'd come across Tidda she'd been no more than a joey hardly big enough to be out of her mother's pouch. Perhaps because she was different, with her strange lack of color and red eyes, the mob had rejected her. Charity reckoned it was the sign of the devil, a punishment or a curse from the Darkinjung ancestral spirits. That was nothing but a load of rubbish. Tidda was more beautiful than most because of the strange trick natures had played upon her.

APRIL 19 MY TRUTH WILL REMOVE EVERY FALSE MINISTRY IN HIGH PLACES MY CHILD, BE aware that in these days there are false teachers among you who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Lord who saved them, and will cause many to reject My teachings and My way of truth. Their judgment has been idle for a long time, and because they have grown cold to the truth, they will bring on themselves—and others—My swift destruction. Do not listen to their lies, and reject their teachings. They must be removed from their lofty seats of comfort, and the results of their disobedience will become an example to any who might be swayed to follow their ways. Rise up like my servant Josiah, and stand for Me in truth, leading all who know you to turn from evil and to do what is right in My eyes, not turning aside to the right or to the left. 2 PETER 2:1–3; 2 KINGS 22:1–2 Prayer Declaration Lord, remove every false ministry and strange god from the high places. Let righteous men with Your wisdom sit in the high governmental places of my city and nation. Let the spiritual foundations that were built in my city, community, and nation be restored. Use me to walk in the spirit of Josiah and lead the people into righteousness.

Entering the office, Evie found Sebastian and Cam on opposite sides of the desk. They both mulled over account ledgers, scratching out some entries with freshly inked pens, and making notations beside the long columns. Both men looked up as she crossed the threshold. Evie met Sebastian’s gaze only briefly; she found it hard to maintain her composure around him after the intimacy of the previous night. He paused in mid-sentence as he stared at her, seeming to forget what he had been saying to Cam. It seemed that neither of them was yet comfortable with feelings that were still too new and powerful. Murmuring good morning to them both, she bid them to remain seated, and she went to stand beside Sebastian’s chair. “Have you breakfasted yet, my lord?” she asked. Sebastian shook his head, a smile glinting in his eyes. “Not yet.” “I’ll go to the kitchen and see what is to be had.” “Stay a moment,” he urged. “We’re almost finished.” As the two men discussed a few last points of business, which pertained to a potential investment in a proposed shopping bazaar to be constructed on St. James Street, Sebastian picked up Evie’s hand, which was resting on the desk. Absently he drew the backs of her fingers against the edge of his jaw and his ear while contemplating the written proposal on the desk before him. Although Sebastian was not aware of what the casual familiarity of the gesture revealed, Evie felt her color rise as she met Cam’s gaze over her husband’s downbent head. The boy sent her a glance of mock reproof, like that of a nursemaid who had caught two children playing a kissing game, and he grinned as her blush heightened further. Oblivious to the byplay, Sebastian handed the proposal to Cam, who sobered instantly. “I don’t like the looks of this,” Sebastian commented. “It’s doubtful there will be enough business in the area to sustain an entire bazaar, especially at those rents. I suspect within a year it will turn into a white elephant.” “White elephant?” Evie asked. A new voice came from the doorway, belonging to Lord Westcliff. “A white elephant is a rare animal,” the earl replied, smiling, “that is not only expensive but difficult to maintain. Historically, when an ancient king wished to ruin someone he would gift him with a white elephant.” Stepping into the office, Westcliff bowed over Evie’s hand and spoke to Sebastian. “Your assessment of the proposed bazaar is correct, in my opinion. I was approached with the same investment opportunity not long ago, and I rejected it on the same grounds.” “No doubt we’ll both be proven wrong,” Sebastian said wryly. “One should never try to predict anything regarding women and their shopping.

now why is the devil's money accepted, the world's offer embraced, and God's rejected? Truly, men do not know the worth of what God offers them. The money the devil and the world offer is in their own currency, and is familiar to them. Swine trample on pearls, because they do not know their value. Men prefer the poor things they have because they are in their current possession. The devil seeks to peck out the eyes of men, that they do not see the blessed God and the happiness that is to be enjoyed in him. O how dull is the world's glass in the presence of true crystal! The magnet of earth will not draw man's affections while heaven is visible. He that has fed on the heavenly banquet cannot savor anything else.

For whom are you preserving your secret? For your grandsons? They are rich enough without it; they do not know the worth of money. Your cards would be of no use to a spendthrift. He who cannot preserve his paternal inheritance, will die in want, even though he had a demon at his service. I am not a man of that sort; I know the value of money. Your three cards will not be thrown away upon me. Come!” ... He paused and tremblingly awaited her reply. The Countess remained silent; Hermann fell upon his knees. “If your heart has ever known the feeling of love,” said he, “if you remember its rapture, if you have ever smiled at the cry of your newborn child, if any human feeling has ever entered into your breast, I entreat you by the feelings of a wife, a lover, a mother, by all that is most sacred in life, not to reject my prayer. Reveal to me your secret. Of what use is it to you? . . . May be it is connected with some terrible sin, with the loss of eternal salvation, with some bargain with the devil.... Reflect,—you are old; you have not long to live—I am ready to take your sins upon my soul. Only reveal to me your secret. Remember that the happiness of a man is in your hands, that not only I, but my children, and grandchildren will bless your memory and reverence you as a saint. . . .” The old Countess answered not a word. Hermann rose to his feet. “You old hag!” he exclaimed, grinding his teeth, “then I will make you answer!” With these words he drew a pistol from his pocket. At

Gabriel was stunned by Pandora's compassion for a man who had caused her such harm. He shook his head in wonder as he stared into her eyes, as dark as cloud-shadow on a field of blue gentian. "That doesn't excuse him," he said thickly. Gabriel would never forgive the bastard. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to strip the flesh from the bastard's corpse and hang up his skeleton to scare the crows. His fingers contained a subtle tremor as he reached out to trace the fine edges of her face, the sweet, high plane of her cheekbone. "What did the doctor say about your ear? What treatment did he give?" "It wasn't necessary to send for a doctor." A fresh flood of rage seared his veins as the words sunk in. "Your eardrum was ruptured. What in God's name do you mean a doctor wasn't necessary?" Although he had managed to keep from shouting, his tone was far from civilized. Pandora quivered uneasily and began to inch backward. He realized the last thing she needed from him was a display of temper. Battening down his rampaging emotions, he used one arm to bring her back against his side. "No, don't pull away. Tell me what happened." "The fever had passed," she said after a long hesitation, "and... well, you have to understand my family. If something unpleasant happened, they ignored it, and it was never spoken of again. Especially if it was something my father had done when he'd lost his temper. After a while, no one remembered what had really happened. Our family history was erased and rewritten a thousand times. But ignoring the problem with my ear didn't make it disappear. Whenever I couldn't hear something, or when I stumbled or fell, it made my mother very angry. She said I'd been clumsy because I was hasty or careless. She wouldn't admit there was anything wrong with my hearing. She refused even to discuss it." Pandora stopped, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "I'm making her sound terrible, and she wasn't. There were times when she was affectionate and kind. No one's all one way or the other." She flicked a glance of dread in his direction. "Oh God, you're not going to pity me, are you?" "No." Gabriel was anguished for her sake, and outraged. It was all he could do to keep his voice calm. "Is that why you keep it a secret? You're afraid of being pitied?" "That, and... it's a shame I'd rather keep private." "Not your shame. Your father's." "It feels like mine. Had I not been eavesdropping, my father wouldn't have disciplined me." "You were a child," he said brusquely. "What he did wasn't bloody discipline, it was brutality." To his surprise, a touch of unrepentant amusement curved Pandora's lips, and she looked distinctly pleased with herself. "It didn't even stop my eavesdropping. I just learned to be more clever about it." She was so endearing, so indomitable, that Gabriel was wrenched with a feeling he'd never known before, as if all the extremes of joy and despair had been compressed into some new emotion that threatened to crack the walls of his heart.

APRIL 25 DO NOT ALLOW ANYTHING TO TAKE MY PLACE IN YOUR HEART I AM THE Lord your God, the One who has brought you out of slavery to sin and set you free to serve Me. Do not worship any god except Me. Do not make idols that look like anything in the sky or on earth or in the ocean under the earth. Don’t bow down and worship idols. I am the Lord your God, and I demand all your love. If you reject Me, I will punish your families for three or four generations. But if you love Me and obey My laws, I will be kind to your families for thousands of generations. Seek Me, and you will find Me if you seek Me with all your heart and with all your soul. I will never forsake you or forget the covenant I made with your fathers. You shall love Me with all your heart and with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength. DEUTERONOMY 5:4–6; MATTHEW 12:30 Prayer Declaration Lord, You are fearsome; You are the one true God, and I will worship and obey You in the ways that You demand. I will trust completely in You with all my heart and will not lean upon my own understanding. I will acknowledge You in all my ways and allow You to direct me on the paths that I take. Then I will walk safely in all my ways, and my foot will not stumble.

The face of the movement was the “pro-life and pro-family values” stance of millions, but the blood running through the movement’s veins was the racism and greed of a few. That is how white evangelicals became the most powerful and influential voting bloc in the United States and the fuel of the American white supremacy engine. That’s how evangelical leaders get away with the stunning hypocrisy of keeping their money, racism, misogyny, classism, nationalism, weapons, war, and corruption while purporting to lead in the name of a man who dedicated his life to ending war, serving orphans and widows, healing the sick, welcoming immigrants, valuing women and children, and giving power and money away to the poor. That is also why all a political candidate must do to earn evangelical allegiance is claim to be antiabortion and antigay—even if the candidate is a man who hates and abuses women, who stockpiles money and rejects immigrants, who incites racism and bigotry, who lives in every way antithetical to Jesus’s teachings. Jesus, the cross, and the identity “pro-life” are just shiny decals evangelical leaders slap on top of their own interests. They just keep pushing the memo: “Don’t think, don’t feel, don’t know. Just be against abortion and gays and keep on voting. That’s how to live like Jesus.” All the devil has to do to win is convince you he’s God.

The most important thing you can do to increase your self-control is to identify the misbeliefs in the words you tell yourself. Then argue against those misbeliefs. Never let yourself get away with misbelief talk. Use determination and energy in arguing and refusing each misbelief with the truth. You can be self-controlled in every area of your life. People who exercise self-control have discovered a major key to living fulfilled lives. Laziness, apathy and lethargy, avoiding responsibility, are not inroads to happiness and the fulfilled life. It is not surprising that when a person complains of lack of self-control the accompanying complaints are discontent, guilt, deep dissatisfaction with life, and a lack of self-confidence. Self-control, a fruit of the Spirit, will become a part of your life as you diligently cultivate it, as you reject discouragement, and as you teach yourself to reward yourself for your successes. “Let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not,” Paul tells us in Galatians 6:9. Allow the Holy Spirit to help you. With God, nothing is impossible. Sometimes things may seem difficult, but with the Lord as your helper, strength and guide, it’s not impossible. You can shout to the whole world, “‘Greater is he [the Holy Spirit] that is in me than he [the devil who tempts me to sin] that is in the world.’ Therefore, I can be and am a self-controlled person!

Lies flee in the presence of truth. And the Devil turns powerless when our minds turn to our all-powerful God. Here’s where I become quite fascinated. Jesus had access to thousands of scriptures from the Old Testament. He knew them. He could have used any of them. But He chose three specific ones. I’ve decided I want these three to be at the top of my mind. I Want a Promise for My Problem of Feeling Empty Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. (Deuteronomy 8:3) My soul was hand designed to be richly satisfied in deep places by the Word of God. When I go without the nourishment of truth, I will crave filling my spiritual hunger with temporary physical pleasures, thinking they will somehow treat the loneliness inside. These physical pleasures can’t fill me, but they can numb me. Numb souls are never growing souls. They wake up one day feeling so very distant from God and wondering how in the world they got there. Since Satan’s goal is to separate us from the Lord, this is exactly where he wants us to stay. But the minute we turn to His Word is the minute the gap between us and God is closed. He is always near. His Word is full and fully able to reach those deep places inside us desperate for truth. I Want a Promise for My Problem of Feeling Deprived “Fear the LORD your God, serve him only and take your oaths in his name” (Deuteronomy 6:13). Another version of this verse says, “Worship Him, your True God, and serve Him.” (THE VOICE) When we worship God, we reverence Him above all else. A great question to ask: Is my attention being held by something sacred or something secret? What is holding my attention the most is what I’m truly worshipping. Sacred worship is all about God. Is my attention being held by something sacred or something secret? Secret worship is all about something in this world that seems so attractive on the outside but will devour you on the inside. Pornography, sex outside of marriage, trading your character to claw your way to a position of power, fueling your sense of worth with your child’s successes, and spending outside of your means to constantly dress your life in the next new thing—all things we do to counteract feelings of being left out of and not invited to the good things God has given others—these are just some of the ways lust sneaks in and wreaks havoc. Two words that characterize misplaced worship or lust are secret excess. God says if we will direct our worship to Him, He will give us strength to turn from the mistakes of yesterday and provide portions for our needs of today. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (PSALM 73:25–26) And I Certainly Want a Promise for My Problem of Feeling Rejected Do not put the LORD your God to the test. (Deuteronomy 6:16)

Is there not also the profoundest pleasure in bitterness? No satisfaction, no victory, will ever be the equivalent of the bitter plenitude of the sense of injustice. It revels in itself. It draws on the very roots of an inner revenge on existence. Who, in the light of that, could claim to give a definition of happiness? Complex as is this entanglement of good and evil, so too is it difficult to pass beyond good and evil when the very distinction between the two has disappeared. One may reject all this. The fact remains that the hypothesis of evil, of the lack of distinction between good and evil and our deep complicity with the worst, is always present, rendering all our actions impenetrable. But it is itself a principle of action and doubtless one of the most powerful. I am playing devil's advocate here. But if you reject this hypothesis you can always think in terms of a wager of the Pascalian type. What Pascal says, more or less, is this: you can always content yourself with a secular existence and its advantages, but it's much more fun with the hypothesis of God. With just a few sacrifices to make in exchange for eternal salvation, the advantages are much greater. Where we are concerned, this same wager becomes: you can always get by with the hypothesis of good and happiness, but it's much more fun with the hypothesis of evil. A variant of the same wager would be: you can always get by with the hypothesis of reality, but it's much more fun with the hypothesis of radical illusion.

The world can be validly construed as a forum for action, as well as a place of things. We describe the world as a place of things, using the formal methods of science. The techniques of narrative, however – myth, literature, and drama – portray the world as a forum for action. The two forms of representation have been unnecessarily set at odds, because we have not yet formed a clear picture of their respective domains. The domain of the former is the 'objective world' – what is, from the perspective of intersubjective perception. The domain of the latter is 'the world of value' – what is and what should be, from the perspective of emotion and action. The world as forum for action is 'composed,' essentially, of three constituent elements, which tend to manifest themselves in typical patterns of metaphoric representation. First is unexplored territory – the Great Mother, nature, creative and destructive, source and final resting place of all determinate things. Second is explored territory – the Great Father, culture, protective and tyrannical, cumulative ancestral wisdom. Third is the process that mediates between unexplored and explored territory – the Divine Son, the archetypal individual, creative exploratory 'Word' and vengeful adversary. We are adapted to this 'world of divine characters,' much as the 'objective world.' The fact of this adaptation implies that the environment is in 'reality' a forum for action, as well as a place of things. Unprotected exposure to unexplored territory produces fear. The individual is protected from such fear as a consequence of 'ritual imitation of the Great Father' – as a consequence of the adoption of group identity, which restricts the meaning of things, and confers predictability on social interactions. When identification with the group is made absolute, however – when everything has to be controlled, when the unknown is no longer allowed to exist – the creative exploratory process that updates the group can no longer manifest itself. This 'restriction of adaptive capacity' dramatically increases the probability of social aggression and chaos. Rejection of the unknown is tantamount to 'identification with the devil,' the mythological counterpart and eternal adversary of the world-creating exploratory hero. Such rejection and identification is a consequence of Luciferian pride, which states: all that I know is all that is necessary to know. This pride is totalitarian assumption of omniscience – is adoption of 'God’s place' by 'reason' – is something that inevitably generates a state of personal and social being indistinguishable from hell. This hell develops because creative exploration – impossible, without (humble) acknowledgment of the unknown – constitutes the process that constructs and maintains the protective adaptive structure that gives life much of its acceptable meaning. 'Identification with the devil' amplifies the dangers inherent in group identification, which tends of its own accord towards pathological stultification. Loyalty to personal interest – subjective meaning – can serve as an antidote to the overwhelming temptation constantly posed by the possibility of denying anomaly. Personal interest – subjective meaning – reveals itself at the juncture of explored and unexplored territory, and is indicative of participation in the process that ensures continued healthy individual and societal adaptation. Loyalty to personal interest is equivalent to identification with the archetypal hero – the 'savior' – who upholds his association with the creative 'Word' in the face of death, and in spite of group pressure to conform. Identification with the hero serves to decrease the unbearable motivational valence of the unknown; furthermore, provides the individual with a standpoint that simultaneously transcends and maintains the group.

III. But we must close with a third remark. Christ really underwent yet a third trial. He was not only tried before the ecclesiastical and civil tribunals, but, he was really tried before the great democratical tribunal, that is, the assembly of the people in the street. You will say, "How?" Well, the trial was somewhat singular, but yet it was really a trial. Barabbas—a thief, a felon, a murderer, a traitor, had been captured; he was probably one of a band of murderers who were accustomed to come up to Jerusalem at the time of the feast, carrying daggers under their cloaks to stab persons in the crowd, and rob them, and then he would be gone again; besides that, he had tried to stir up sedition, setting himself up possibly as a leader of banditti. Christ was put into competition with this villain; the two were presented before the popular eye, and to the shame of manhood, to the disgrace of Adam's race, let it be remembered that the perfect, loving, tender, sympathizing, disinterested Savior was met with the word, "Crucify him!" and Barabbas, the thief, was preferred. "Well," says one, "that was atrocious." The same thing is put before you this morning—the very same thing; and every unregenerate man will make the same choice that the Jews did, and only men renewed by grace will act upon the contrary principle. I say, friend, this day I put before you Christ Jesus, or your sins. The reason why many come not to Christ is because they cannot give up their lusts, their pleasures, their profits. Sin is Barabbas; sin is a thief; it will rob your soul of its life; it will rob God of his glory. Sin is a murderer; it stabbed our father Adam; it slew our purity. Sin is a traitor; it rebels against the king of heaven and earth. If you prefer sin to Christ, Christ has stood at your tribunal, and you have given in your verdict that sin is better than Christ. Where is that man? He comes here every Sunday; and yet he is a drunkard? Where is he? You prefer that reeling demon Bacchus to Christ. Where is that man? He comes here. Yes; and where are his midnight haunts? The harlot and the prostitute can tell! You have preferred your own foul, filthy lust to Christ. I know some here that have their consciences open pricked, and yet there is no change in them. You prefer Sunday trading to Christ; you prefer cheating to Christ; you prefer the theater to Christ; you prefer the harlot to Christ; you prefer the devil himself to Christ, for he it is that is the father and author of these things. "No," says one, "I don't, I don't." Then I do again put this question, and I put it very pointedly to you—"If you do not prefer your sins to Christ, how is it that you are not a Christian?" I believe this is the main stumbling-stone, that "Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil." We come not to Christ because of the viciousness of our nature, and depravity of our heart; and this is the depravity of your heart, that you prefer darkness to light, put bitter for sweet, and choose evil as your good. Well, I think I hear one saying, "Oh! I would be on Jesus Christ's side, but I did not look at it in that light; I thought the question was. "Would he be on my side? I am such a poor guilty sinner that I would fain stand anywhere, if Jesu's blood would wash me." Sinner! sinner! if thou talkest like that, then I will meet thee right joyously. Never was a man one with Christ till Christ was one with him. If you feel that you can now stand with Christ, and say, "Yes, despised and rejected, he is nevertheless my God, my Savior, my king. Will he accept me? Why, soul, he has accepted you; he has renewed you, or else you would not talk so. You speak like a saved man. You may not have the comfort of salvation, but surely there is a work of grace in your heart, God's divine election has fallen upon you, and Christ's precious redemption has been made for you, or else you would not talk so. You cannot be willing to come to Christ, and y

Not only does Jesus reject these narratives, he attributes them to the way of the devil, rather than the way of God. Consider for example the story of Elijah calling down fire from heaven as proof that he was on God's side. Elijah declares, “If I am a man of God, may fire come down from heaven and consume you and your fifty men!” Then fire fell from heaven and consumed the captain and his men (2 Kings 1: 10). Hoping to follow Elijah’s example, James and John ask Jesus in response to opposition they were experiencing, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” (Luke 9: 54–55). Perhaps that was why they got their nickname “the sons of thunder.” Luke tells us that the response of Jesus was not to affirm this narrative, but to sternly rebuke his disciples. In that rebuke of Jesus is an implicit yet clear rejection of the way of Elijah as well. Later manuscripts include the response of Jesus, “You do not know what kind of spirit you are of, for the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them” (Luke 9: 55–56). 22 In other words, Jesus is essentially saying that the way of Elijah is not of God, but instead belongs to the spirit of the one who seeks to destroy, that is, of the devil. While Elijah claimed that his actions proved he was a “man of God,” this passage in Luke’s Gospel makes the opposite claim: The true “man of God” incarnate had not come to obliterate life, but to save, heal, and restore it (Luke 19: 10 & John 3: 17). Jesus not only recognizes this himself as the Son of God, but rebukes James and John for not having come to this conclusion on their own. In other words, Jesus expects his disciples—expects you and me—to be making these same calls of knowing what to embrace in the Bible and what to reject.

I hear people testify about their search for the deeper Christian life and it sounds as though they would like to be able to get it in pill form. It seems that it would have been much more convenient for them if God had arranged religion so they could take it like a pill with a glass of water. They buy books, hoping to get their religion by prescription. But there isn’t any such thing. There is a cross. There is a gallows. There is a man with bleeding stripes on his back. There is an apostle with no property, with a tradition of loneliness and weariness and rejection and glory—but there are no pills!

What I believe is we’re able to push the boundaries of our knowledge only so long as we keep our focus on phenomena itself, rejecting metaphysical conclusions and false certainty, however comforting they may be.

The Devil wants to delude and confuse each of us into thinking that our sins are only our problem; that they can be hidden away in our memory and not come back to inflict our conscience with cutting reminders of guilt. The Devil wants each of us to believe that we can rid ourselves of guilt and shame apart from Jesus. That’s what the Devil is always up to—offering both the sin that rejects Christ, but also rescue plans that bypass Christ. As Christians, we have to reject both of these patterns. We have to focus on Jesus, who can rewire darkened hearts.

The truth is, that as long as men reject Christ and do not savingly believe in him, however they may be awakened, and however strict and conscientious and laborious they may be in religion, they have the wrath of God abiding on them, they are his enemies and the children of the devil (as the Scripture calls all that be not savingly converted, Matt. 13:38; 1 John 3:10), and it is uncertain whether they shall ever obtain mercy. God is under no obligation to show them mercy, nor will he be if they fast and pray and cry never so much; and they are then especially provoking God under those terrors, in that they stand it out against Christ, and will not accept of an offered Savior, though they see so much need of him; and seeing this is the truth, they should be told so, that they may be sensible what their case indeed be. To blame a minister for thus declaring the truth to those who are under awakenings, and not immediately administering comfort to them, is like blaming a surgeon because, when he has begun to thrust in his lance, whereby he has already put his patient to great pain, and he shrieks and cries out with anguish, he is so cruel that he will not stay his hand, but goes on to thrust it in further, until he comes to the core of the wound. Such a compassionate physician, who, as soon as his patient began to flinch, should withdraw his hand and go about immediately to apply a plaster to skin over the wound and leave the core untouched, would be one that would heal the hurt slightly, crying "peace, peace," when there is no peace. Indeed

To the Church of Satan—echoing yet again Karl Marx’s buddy Michael Bakunin—Satan represents rebellion against the artificial constraints placed upon man by religion, specifically Christianity. The Satanic Bible preaches the complete rejection of any creed that invokes the “authority of a ‘divine’ nature.” There is also a rejection, then, not just of the Creator, but of any notion of the existence of a natural law let alone a biblical law—of a set system of moral codes and absolutes. Thus, Satanism offers its adherents a system of their own to rebel against these “constructs.

The opposite of a criminal is an Oedipal mother, which is its own type of criminal. The Oedipal mother (and fathers can play this role too, but it’s comparatively rare) says to her child, “I only live for you.” She does everything for her children. She ties their shoes, and cuts up their food, and lets them crawl into bed with her and her partner far too often. That’s a good and conflict-avoidant method for avoiding unwanted sexual attention, as well. The Oedipal mother makes a pact with herself, her children, and the devil himself. The deal is this: “Above all, never leave me. In return, I will do everything for you. As you age without maturing, you will become worthless and bitter, but you will never have to take any responsibility, and everything you do that’s wrong will always be someone else’s fault.” The children can accept or reject this—and they have some choice in the matter. The Oedipal mother is the witch in the story of Hansel and Gretel. The two children in that fairy tale have a new step-mother. She orders her husband to abandon his children in the forest, as there is a famine and she thinks they eat too much. He obeys his wife, takes his children deep into the woods and leaves them to their fate. Wandering, starving and lonely, they come across a miracle. A house. And not just any house. A candy house. A gingerbread house. A person who had not been rendered too caring, empathic, sympathetic and cooperative might be skeptical, and ask, “Is this too good to be true?” But the children are too young, and too desperate.

I can only judge by what I understand. If as far as I can see, the gods that Qing-jao believes in are only evil, then yes, perhaps I’m wrong, perhaps I can’t comprehend the great purpose they accomplish by making the godspoken into helpless slaves, or destroying whole species. But in my heart I have no choice but to reject such gods, because I can’t see any good in what they’re doing. Perhaps I’m so stupid and foolish that I will always be the enemy of the gods, working against their high and incomprehensible purposes. But I have to live my life according to what I understand, and what I understand is that there are no such gods as the ones the godspoken teach us about. If they exist at all, they take pleasure in oppression and deception, humiliation and ignorance. They act to make other people smaller and themselves larger. Those would not be gods, then, even if they existed. They would be enemies. Devils.

Outside the Church of Christ there is no salvation. Vatican II, for all its legion flaws, did not deny this. Nothing in the 1962-1965 Council condemns the Catholic who adheres to the teachings of Pope Leo III and the 1215 statement of the Fourth Lateran Council, "There is but one universal Church of the faithful, outside of which no one at all is saved." At the end of the twentieth century, the Church did not forbid belief in what she believed at the beginning of the fourteenth century, when she infallibly taught through Pope Boniface VII's Bull, Unam Sanctam, "We declare, say, define, and pronounce that none of those existing outside the Catholic Church, not only pagans, but also Jews and heretics and schismatics, can have a share in life eternal; but that they will go into the eternal fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels, unless before death they are joined with her; and that so important is the unity of this ecclesiastical body that only those remaining within this unity can profit by the Sacraments of the Church unto salvation, and they alone can receive an eternal recompense for their fasts, their almsgivings, their other works of Christian piety, and the duties of a Christian soldier. No one, let his almsgiving be as great as it may, no one, even if he pour out his blood for the Name of Christ, can be saved, unless he remains within the bosom and the unity of the Catholic Church." No more did Vatican II warn the faithful against those earlier Vicars of Christ in this dogmatic teaching than they themselves departed from the very first Vicar of Christ, Pope St. Peter, who insisted that Jesus Christ is "the stone which was rejected by you the builders, which is become the head of the corner; neither is there salvation in any other; for there is no other Name under Heaven given to men, whereby we must be saved." (page 408).

Red Ash mine was also the location of a disaster in 1900, which killed forty-six miners. This earlier catastrophe outraged Mother Jones, who spoke of it often on her organizing campaign that year, and it had triggered public pressure to improve the state’s mine safety laws. The legislature rejected all proposals for reform, however. The lawmakers apparently agreed with West Virginia’s Republican governor, G. W. Atkinson, who said in 1901: “It is but the natural course of mining events that men should be injured and killed by accidents.

Consider Edgar Allen Poe’s famous poem, “The Raven.” Here we have a first-person narrator whose wife or lover, Lenore, has recently died. He is in his library searching through his books to find a way to make her death meaningful—or even understandable. When a raven enters the library, the narrator takes it as a sign and asks a series of increasingly desperate questions. The raven, of course, has long been a symbol for death, and the questions that the narrator asks the raven are all really questions about death. Is there a heaven? Does death come from God or the Devil? Will he ever get over her death? Will he see her again? These are likely the same things he was trying to find out from his books. But while the books may have tried to give answers, the raven—death itself—says only one word: “Nevermore.” So this is a poem that makes claims—or, more specifically, it is a poem that rejects claims. It rejects the notion that anyone can know anything about death, or what happens after death, except that a person who has died no longer exists. All that death “says” to us is “Nevermore.” If we try to go beyond this, we will eventually suffer the narrator’s fate and become insane. Many people would disagree vigorously with this premise. Some people believe that the spirits of the dead become ghosts that we can still communicate with. Others believe in heaven, hell, reincarnation, Nirvana, or some knowable final destination for the soul. I can imagine a number of different ways that one might go about rebutting Poe’s metaphysical truth claims. But it makes no difference whether or not ravens can talk. Nothing about Poe’s poem can be supported, or refuted, by scientific knowledge about the vocalization mechanisms of the Corvus corax. Nor does it matter whether or not Edgar Allen Poe ever knew anybody named Lenore, or owned a “bust of Pallas,” or did or said any of the things described in the poem. “The Raven” makes metaphysical truth claims that we can isolate and evaluate. But these claims do not depend on either the history or the science of the poem turning out to be true.

Everything which is not connected to you is not connected to God,it means it is artificial. If the artificial is not connected to God,then it connected to the devil .because when God rejects your sacrifice remember,satan will receive it,and will put it anointing upon you. Remember when God rejected the sacrifice of Cain ,the devil took it and and put is anointing on him,the result was that he kills his brother. Genesis 4:3-8 KJV And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord . [4] And Abel, he also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of the fat thereof. And the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering: [5] But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell. [6] And the Lord said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? [7] If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him. [8] And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.

A child of the devil is someone who rejects Jesus Christ but practices “religion” as a counterfeit Christian.

Under the oppression of the devil, we will eventually reject structure and accountability.

Because of the multi-vocal quality of the Old Testament, we see Jesus embracing certain narratives that speak of restoration and mercy, and rejecting other narratives found in those same Scriptures which instead uphold committing or justifying violence in God’s name. Not only does Jesus reject these narratives, he attributes them to the way of the devil, rather than the way of God. Consider for example the story of Elijah calling down fire from heaven as proof that he was on God's side. Elijah declares, “If I am a man of God, may fire come down from heaven and consume you and your fifty men!” Then fire fell from heaven and consumed the captain and his men (2 Kings 1:10). Hoping to follow Elijah’s example, James and John ask Jesus in response to opposition they were experiencing, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” (Luke 9:54-55). Perhaps that was why they got their nickname “the sons of thunder.” Luke tells us that the response of Jesus was not to affirm this narrative, but to sternly rebuke his disciples. In that rebuke of Jesus is an implicit yet clear rejection of the way of Elijah as well. Later manuscripts include the response of Jesus, “You do not know what kind of spirit you are of, for the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives, but to save them” (Luke 9:55-56). In other words, Jesus is essentially saying that the way of Elijah is not of God, but instead belongs to the spirit of the one who seeks to destroy, that is, of the devil. While Elijah claimed that his actions proved he was a “man of God,” this passage in Luke’s Gospel makes the opposite claim: The true “man of God” incarnate had not come to obliterate life, but to save, heal, and restore it (Luke 19:10 & John 3:17). Jesus not only recognizes this himself as the Son of God, but rebukes James and John for not having come to this conclusion on their own. In other words, Jesus expects his disciples - expects you and me - to be making these same calls of knowing what to embrace in the Bible and what to reject.

He took all of the humiliation, rejection, and punishment I could throw at him, and still he continued to park himself two inches from hell and fish for souls.

down from here, 10‡for it is written,  “‘ He will command his angels concerning you,        to guard you,’ 11and  “‘On their hands they will bear you up,        lest you strike your foot against a stone.’” 12†And Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.’” 13†And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time. Jesus Begins His Ministry 14‡†And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee, and a report about him went out through all the surrounding country. 15†And he taught in their synagogues, being glorified by all. Jesus Rejected at Nazareth 16‡†And he came to

We must, in short, reject everything that we have previously believed about ourselves that our ancestors taught us. Tradition is the democracy of the dead, as the saying goes, and that democracy must be overthrown in favor of our momentary whims, with an Ermächtigungsgesetz (“enabling law”) that criminalizes even the memory of doing things differently.

Even if a person were to finally and irrevocably reject God so as to choose the privation of evil, opting for nonbeing instead of being, God, the ground of all being, would continue to sustain that person in being.17 The doctrine of Satan envisages that God does not destroy being, or allow it to be subsumed by nothingness. As such, the doctrine is a powerful statement of God’s unconditional commitment to creation and to enemy love. Understood thus, the doctrine of Satan is but a footnote in support of Catholicism’s sacramental vision of the universe whereby the omnipresent God is understood to exist in and through all things.

Vote wisely, not blindly, to change the world into prosperity, harmony, justice, equality, and peace and empower humanity, not the political beasts and their evil interests to raise and encourage wars and kill innocent people.” "Overcome your covetous ambitions to have peace of mind and satisfaction; do not let your covetous ambitions overcome you; otherwise, they will bury you in grievous consequences.” Israel shamelessly rejected the order by the judges of the International Court of Justice that Israel must halt its attack on the southern Gaza city of Rafah; thus, the ICJ order and the United Nations resolutions did not impact Israel’s genocide. I know how the ICJ, the United Nations, and the world will react to such bare violations, breaching and even disregarding international law by the Israeli bloody beast of this century., encouraged and motivated by the USA and European Union, avoiding and ignoring their laws that only apply to weak and needy countries. It is not only a significant insult to the ICJ verdict, which has been declined and trashed as well. Israeli attacks show and prove that they neither respect nor value the international law and communities of civilised democracies. The question is not this, but how the ICJ and the United Nations will take the next steps to stop the inhuman behaviour and genocide in Palestine by Israel since October 2023, and how and why the United States, the West, and the world have remained silent and are deliberately closing their eyes on Israeli inhumanity and genocide. Where is humanity, where is international law, where is transparent justice, fairness, equality, and the worth of human lives for small and large states and communities regardless of any distinctions, according to the charter of the United Nations? — Who will decide: genocide or the last resort of Israel dropping atom bombs on Palestine? It usually seems that the ICJ has become like the third-world courts, run by the political or armed forces mafia; their verdicts never prevail. Where are the experts and scholars of international law? What damn they think about the behaviour and declination of the ICJ verdict by Israel? It will be too late. There will be nothing and no one superpower. The world is heading towards the doom of the devil. Awaken, open your eyes, and stop it before we can say sorry.

By deception and psychic violence, the devil tempts us to sin, seduces us to participate in evil. The diabolic aim is to separate us from God: the devil knows that if we reject God, the darkness gains some power over us.

It was true, then, what she had read of the happy relationship between the Devil and his servants. If Euphan Macalzean had rated him—why, so, at a pinch, might she. Other things that she had read might also be true, she thought, things that she had till now been inclined to reject. So easy-going a Master who had no favorites among his servants might in reality attend the Sabbath, might unbend enough to eat black-puddings at a picnic without losing his dignity.

Rebellion rejects God’s legitimate authority, just as King Saul rejected the authority of God’s Word. (See 1 Samuel 15:23.) We cannot exist for long in life without authority. So, if we don’t have legitimate authority, illegitimate authority will fill the void.

Notice the first reason people reject the gospel is that “the devil comes and takes away the word out of their hearts” (v. 12). That’s deception—the deceiving spirits and demons I mentioned earlier. The second reason is more complicated. Jesus described those who hear the good news and “receive the word with joy” (v. 13). These people are genuinely excited about Christianity.

The strongest argument for gene editing cane toads, house mice, and ship rats is also the simplest: what's the alternative? Rejecting such technologies as unnatural isn't going to bring nature back. The choice is not between what was and what is, but between what is and what will be, which often enough is nothing. This is the situation of the Devil's Hole pupfish, the Shoshone pupfish, and the Pahrump poolfish, of the northern quoll, the Campbell Island teal, and the Tristan albatross. Stick to a strict interpretation of the natural and these--along with thousands of other species--are goners. The issue at this point, is not whether we're going to alter nature, but to what end? "We are as gods and might as well get good at it," Stewart Brand, editor of the Who Earth Catalog, famously wrote in its first issue, published in 1968. Recently, in response to the whole-earth transformation that's under way, Brand has sharpened his statement: "We are as gods and we have to get good at it.

Forget meditation and forget mindfulness. Explore the darkness! You can never become enlightened unless you have first ventured into the dark. Dante said, 'The path to paradise begins in hell.' Jung said, 'No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell.' It’s not about love and light. It’s about assimilating the hate and darkness, the very things denied by the love and lighters. God’s job is to integrate the Devil, not to reject the Devil as an external being.

Nobody, in other words - not the devil, not the world, not the flesh, not even ourselves - can take us away from the Love that will not let us go. We can, of course, squirm in his grip and despise his holding of us, and we can no doubt get ourselves into one hell of a mess by doing so. But if he is God the Word who both makes and reconciles us, there is no way - no way, literally, even in hell - that we will ever find ourselves anywhere else than in the very thick of both our creation and our reconciliation. All the evil in the universe, whether from the devil or from us, is now and ever shall be just part of the divine ecology. And the Sower says that. The seed eaten by birds is as much seed as the seed that produced a hundredfold. The snatching of the Word by the devil - and the rejection of it by the shallow and the choking of it by the worldly - all take place within the working of the kingdom, not prior to it or outside of it. It is the Word alone, and not the interference with it, that finally counts. True enough, and fittingly enough, the most obvious point in the whole parable is that the fullest enjoyment of the fruitfulness of the Word is available only to those who interfere with it least. But even in making that point, Jesus still hammers away at the sovereignty and sole effectiveness of the Word. Those on the good ground, he says, are those who simply hear the Word, accept it, and bear fruit: some thirty-, some sixty-, and some a hundredfold. It's not that they do anything, you see; rather, it's that they don't do things that get in the Word's way. It's the Word, and the Word alone, that does all the rest.

As the Beloved of my heavenly Father, “I can walk in the valley of darkness: no evil would I fear.” As the Beloved, I can “cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils.” Having “received without charge,” I can “give without charge.” As the Beloved, I can confront, console, admonish, and encourage without fear of rejection or need for affirmation. As the Beloved, I can suffer persecution without desire for revenge and receive praise without using it as a proof of my goodness. As the Beloved, I can be tortured and killed without ever having to doubt that the love that is given to me is stronger than death. As the Beloved, I am free to live and give life, free also to die while giving life.

His heart was gentle and lowly toward us when we were lost. Will his heart be anything different toward us now that we are found? While we were still... He loved us in our mess then. He'll love us in our mess now. Our very agony in sinning is the fruit of our adoption. A cold heart would not be bothered. We are not who we were. When you sin, do a thorough job of repenting. Re-hate sin all over again. Consecrate yourself afresh to the Holy Spirit and his pure ways. But reject the devil's whisper that God's tender heart for your sinfulness. His deepest disappointment is with your tepid thoughts of his heart. Christ died, placarding before you the love of God.

Despite all the negativities, reconciliation and living together in peace is the job of smart people! What about the idiots? They practice the devil's art: Hating forever and destroying each other by rejecting all human values!

The strongest argument for gene editing cane toads, house mice, and ship rats is also the simplest: what's the alternative? Rejecting such technologies as unnatural isn't going to bring nature back. The choice is not between what was and what is, but between what is and what will be, which often enough is nothing. This is the situation of the Devil's Hole pupfish, the Shoshone pupfish, and the Pahrump poolfish, of the northern quoll, the Campbell Island teal, and the Tristan albatross. Stick to a strict interpretation of the natural and these--along with thousands of other species--are goners. The issue at this point, is not whether we're going to alter nature, but to what end?

[...] estou banhado em fel, Ana, mas sei como enfrentar tua rejeição, já carrego no vento do temporal uma raiva perpétua, tenho o fôlego obstinado, tenho requintes de alquimista, sei como alterar o enxofre com a virtude das serpentes, e, na caldeira, sei como dar à fumaça que sobe da borbulha a frieza da cerração nas madrugadas; vou cultivar o meu olhar, plantar nele uma semente que não germina, será uma terra que não fecunda, um chão capaz de necrosar como as geadas as folhas das árvores, as pétalas das flores e a polpa dos nossos frutos; não reprimirei os cantos dos lábios se a peste dizimar nossos rebanhos, e nem se as pragas devorarem as plantações, vou cruzar os braços quando todos se agitam ao meu redor, dar as costas aos que me pedem por socorro, cobrindo os olhos para não ver as suas chagas, tapando as orelhas para não ouvir seus gritos, vou dar de ombros se um dia a casa tomba: não tive o meu contento, o mundo não terá de mim a misericórdia; amar e ser amado era tudo o que eu queria, mas fui jogado à margem sem consulta, fui amputado, já faço parte da escória, vou me entregar de corpo e alma à doce vertigem de quem se considera, na primeira força da idade, um homem simplesmente acabado, bastante ativo contudo para furar fundo com o indicador a carne podre da carcaça, e, entre o polegar e o anular, com elegância, fechar trópicos e outras linhas, atirando num ossário o esqueleto deste mundo; pertenço como nunca desde agora a essa insólita confraria dos enjeitados, dos proibidos, dos recusados pelo afeto, dos sem-sossego, dos intranquilos, dos inquietos, dos que sem contorcem, dos aleijões com cara de assassino que descendem de Caim (quem não ouve a ancestralidade cavernosa dos meus gemidos?), dos que trazem um sinal na testa, essa longínqua cicatriz de cinza dos marcados pela santa inveja, dos sedentos de igualdade e de justiça, dos que cedo ou tarde acabam se ajoelhando no altar escuso do Maligno, deitando antes em sua mesa, piamente, as despojadas oferendas: uma posta de peixe alva e fria, as uvas pretas de uma parreira na decrepitude, os algarismos solitários das matemáticas, as cordas mudas de um alaúde, um punhado de desespero, e um carvão solene para os seus dedos criadores, a ele, o artífice do rabisco, o desenhista provecto do garrancho, o artesão que trabalha em cima de restos de vida, puxando no traço de sua linha a vontade extenuada de cada um, ele, o propulsor das mudanças, nos impelindo com seus sussurros contra a corrente, nos arranhando os tímpanos com seu sopro áspero e quente, nos seduzindo contra a solidez precária da ordem, este edifício de pedra cuja estrutura de ferro é sempre erguida, não importa a arquitetura, sobre os ombros ulcerados dos que gemem, ele, o primeiro, o único, o soberano, não passando o teu Deus bondoso (antes discriminador, piolhento e vingativo) de um vassalo, de um subalterno, de um promulgador de tábuas insuficiente, incapaz de perceber que suas leis são a lenha resinosa que alimenta a constância do Fogo Eterno! não basta o jato da minha cusparada, contenha este incêndio enquanto é tempo, já me sobe uma nova onda, já me queima uma nova chama, já sinto ímpetos de empalar teus santos, de varar teus anjos tenros, de dar uma dentada no coração de Cristo!

Bill had to experience the hopelessness of hell to warn people of its eternal torment. Bill learned that God did not create hell for bad people. Instead, God withdrew his attributes from hell once it was created as a place for the devil and his fallen angels, not man. God’s attributes are everything good in life. Bill explains, “If you want nothing to do with God, there’s a place for you. People send themselves to hell by the rejection of the directions He gives.” Bill says that Jesus allowed him to experience a piece of His heart – the piece that breaks every time someone goes to hell. Bill watched Jesus cry as people fell to hell. Jesus died on the cross so man would not have to experience hell and He cried at the choices of the people that caused them to be sent to hell. He explains God gave people the free will to choose whether or not to follow Him and that he needs to explain to people the importance of following Him. One of the last things Jesus told Bill was, “Tell the people that I am coming very soon.

But what would it profit you even to create life itself, when you have lost all sense of what life really is? Might as well blow your brains out among your test-tubes. Manufacture ‘life’ as much as you like, I say! It’s the vision you give us of death that poisons the thoughts of poor devils, bit by bit, that gradually clouds and dulls their last happiness. You’ll be able to keep it up so long as your industries and capital permit you to turn the world into a fair ground of mechanical roundabouts, twirling madly in a perpetual din of brass and crackling fireworks. But just you wait. Wait for the first quarter-of-an-hour’s silence. Then the Word will be heard of men—not the voice they rejected, which spoke so quietly: ‘I am the Way, the Resurrection and the Life,’ but the voice from the depths: ‘I am the door forever locked, the road which leads nowhere, the lie, the everlasting dark’.

The rejection of the Shadow is one of the greatest failings of patriarchal religion. Life and Death are realities to our psyche. They are a package deal. Christianity tries to paint the Devil/Evil/Death as the enemy of God/Goddess/Life. Rather than giving the Devil his due, Christianity has created a bizarre and distorted image of the Shadow.

Not for the first time, Grey wondered at a religion which rejected so many of the things that made life tolerable. Perhaps it sprang from an intent to make heaven seem that much more desirable by contrast to a life from which pleasure had been largely removed.

Flaming arrows are evil thoughts. The devil is sending you evil thoughts all the time. You don’t have to receive them. As a matter of fact, the more you refuse him and reject his thoughts, the sooner he will back off and quit trying.

How sad and astonishing a spectacle it is to see a man near the coast of eternity--namely, to behold a wretched sinner in his cold sweats and dying groans with his precious and immortal soul standing on his pale, cold, quivering lips; and death, the great conqueror and king of terrors, marching furiously with his writ of removal in one hand, not to be reversed, and his deadly dart and sting in the other hand; conscience on the rack, barking, biting, and tearing him like a lion; the devil, God's executioner, looking on and standing by; the heart under dejecting and sinking despair; the eyes dim and fixed; his heart strings ready to break with anguish; his wife, children, and friends at the bedside, weeping, sighing, crying, wring their hands, beating their breasts; the wife crying out, "Alas, my husband!"; the child crying out, "Alas, my father!"; the poor perishing soul all this while looking backward on his misspent time and bypast sins, inward on his own heart--a dreadful sight! Where he sees no Christ, no grace, no purity, nothing but sin, guilt, death, darkness. Then, looking upward to that God who has been provoked, to that Christ who has been rejected, to that heaven and eternity that he has lost. And looking downward to that dark and dreadful pit that must be his place and portion (with a fearful looking for judgment), seeing the devils come and ready to seize on him. Oh what a dreadful outcry and shriek will the soul make when it departs! Perceiving itself sinking down, down to the burning lake and bottomless pit, where he must take up his lodging with devouring fire to all eternity.

Rational knowledge presented by the learned and wise, denies the meaning of life, but the enormous masses of men, the whole of mankind receive that meaning in irrational knowledge. And that irrational knowledge is faith, that very thing which I could not but reject. It is God, One in Three; the creation in six days; the devils and angels, and all the rest that I cannot accept as long as I retain my reason.

Frederick Douglass wrote of this hypocrisy in his autobiography: Between the Christianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest, possible difference—so wide, that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. To be the friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy of the other. I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ: I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity. I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels. Never was there a clearer case of “stealing the livery of the court of heaven to serve the devil in.

There are people that don't believe in heaven or hell. Then I look at the deep sky beautiful in its blue firmament where birds take wing and white clouds moving in wind, and then a burning sun in the midst of it. I think, if there couldn't be a hell, how can there be an eternal burning sun that consumes as a lake of fire? With the sun being a star, Lucifer was known as the Morning Star. Lucifer, being the Devil is already destined to hell. In a metaphorical twist, we call this star our sun, and Jesus the son of God, who's face we can't look into from sheer brightness. I wonder if this same sun will ultimately be hell in the end, and those who reject the Son as their redeemer, will ultimately be cast into this sun of burning fire. As for now, this sun will give us time to repent, light and warmth, but will turn to punishment in the judgment days. This alone makes me believe there's a heaven and hell.

I can reject every tenet of the Confederacy and yet the fact remains that, in fighting to maintain white supremacy, Forrest sought to perpetuate a system tilted in my favor. Forrest fought for me. The work was to understand the proximity, not the distance

See how blessed we really are? We’re comforted knowing there is nothing entered anywhere in the records of eternity that stands against any soul that truly believes in the Lord Jesus Christ! This includes us!” Pastor Lau grimaced and shook his head. “The same is true that every promise God made in the Bible to those who reject Him regarding their demise, will come to pass exactly as it was written… “For proof of this, all we have to do is continue on in the passage. Our Lord went on to say in verse forty-one: ‘Then He will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.’ “In verse forty-six, Christ went on to say, ‘Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.

I don’t even pretend to understand it all. I was president of the Luther League, the youth group of our church. I was a good kid and a bad kid at the same time. I was looking for a very nice girl but also a very bad girl. Do all young men have these conflicts? And, what about whores? Well, in my mind, prostitutes are bad girls. Matter of fact, they are professional bad girls. As I said earlier in this diary, you don’t make love to whores, you fuck them. There’s a difference. They don’t require love and courtship, all they want is my money. I go to the bedroom with them and do the deed with no affection. They take my money and leave. All my life I have been told that girls who have sex outside of marriage are bad girls... sluts. I’ve also been told by my dad, “Son, sex is the most beautiful expression of love in a marriage.” Although I can appreciate the difference, that being, sex is meant for marriage only; my psyche has some difficulty reconciling the two messages. Sexually active girls are bad but sexually active wives are good. I’m afraid that someday if and when I wed the Pollyanna I’m looking for and fulfill my husbandly duty with her, I’m going to feel like I’m turning a good girl into a bad girl. In other words, I change my wife into a slut. And here’s the weirdest part: if my wife becomes a slut, the good boy in me will reject the bad girl I created in her. My angel and devil will be in a clinch hold.

Lord, by faith here’s what I’m doing right now to prepare myself for the coming day. I’m putting on the belt of truth. I ask You to make it very clear to me what I am to accept into my life and what I am to reject. Help me to see clearly the motives of others as they deal with me and converse with me. Let me walk in Your truth, making decisions and choices according to Your plans and purposes for my life. I am putting on the breastplate of righteousness. Guard my emotions today. Protect my heart. Help me to take into my life only the things that are pure, and nothing that is poison or polluting. Help me to live in integrity and to have a reputation based upon doing, saying, believing, thinking, and feeling the right things. Help me to live in right relationship with You every moment of this coming day. I am putting on my spiritual boots. Help me to stand and walk in Your peace and to move forward in ways that bring Your peace and love to others. Help me to have the full confidence and assurance that come from knowing that I am filled with the peace that only You can give to those who are Your children. Help me to be a peacemaker. Show me where to walk and how to walk as You would walk. I am picking up the shield of faith. Help me to trust You to be my Victor in every area of life today. Help me to trust You to defend me, provide for me, and keep me in safety every hour of this day. I am putting on my helmet of salvation. Guard my mind today. Bring to my remembrance all that You have done for me as my Savior. Let me live in the hope and confidence that You are saving me—rescuing me and delivering me—from evil. I am picking up my sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. Bring to my remembrance today the verses of the Bible that I have read and memorized, and help me to apply them to the situations and circumstances I will face. Let me use Your Word to bring Your light into the darkness of this world and to defeat the devil when he comes to tempt me. Father, I want to be fully clothed with the identity of Jesus Christ today. I am in Christ. He is in me. Help me to fully realize and accept that He is my Truth, my Righteousness, my Peace, my Savior, the source of my faith, and the ever-present Lord of my life. I want to bring glory to Your name today. I ask all of this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

He was full of audacity, an adventurer you could easily imagine exploring the seas, singing, preaching, and firmly resolved to protect the inhabitants of distant continents against every degrading infringement of occupation, with the sword if need be. He was willing to challenge everyone, even the devil, even God. No, it wasn’t megalomania, as his opponents said, it was only flourishing life and a volcanic outburst of awakening forces, a shower of sparks of flashing inspiration. No doubt he was full of arrogance, this boy. But it was so boisterous, so great, this arrogance, that you overcame your resistance and viewed him in amazement like a natural wonder with its own laws. Those who loved him saw him as a rough diamond, an unpolished gem. Those who rejected him were offended by his lack of respect, which could wound. They saw him as an aristocratic prig, favoured by fate, showered not only with money but also with talent, beauty and charm, as well as the irresistible melancholy that made women love him. It seemed unfair that he was so much better endowed than others. This made him a magnet for envy and resentment. Yet even those who felt resentment were secretly full of admiration. He was a boy who could touch heaven.

I watch the girls fuss over the baby. His tiny features curl up in annoyance as they stroke his cheek. His name is Shimon. He is a muzinka, an only child, born late. Chavie and Mordechai were married seventeen years before they had him. Everyone was so happy when he was born. Bubby cried at the circumcision ceremony. There is no greater curse than the curse of childlessness, Bubby said to me that day we were coming back from visiting Chavie at the hospital. Like with Auntie Sarah, a mercy on her soul, who died without ever having children. “A curse on that Mengele, son of the devil, who scorched her insides with acid,” she says, making a spitting sound and waving her hand to ward off the devil. When Shimon comes home from Maimonides Medical Center there is a thick red thread wrapped around his right wrist. No way the evil eye is touching this one.

One June 5, Brian Lynch, a Catholic priest from Belle Plaine, gave a five-minute address to the City Council urging them to reject TST’s monument. Lynch argued the monument was illegal because it constituted an “offense against decency.” Furthermore, he speculated that the monument would attract Satanists, making Belle Plaine, “a place for theistic Satanic ritual activities that victimize our children.” Lynch testified that Satanic ritual is “known” to include sex with children. Since the monument was in a public park, Satanists could use it to “groom” children for abuse. After his address, Lynch led some thirty of his parishioners from the City Council to church to pray the monument not be installed.

Let us instead look at contemporary Satanism for what it really is: a brutal religion of elitism and social Darwinism that seeks to re-establish the reign of the able over the idiotic, of swift justice over injustice, and for a wholesale rejection of egalitarianism as a myth that has crippled the advancement of the human species for the last two thousand years.

The Devil offered Christ the ability to turn stones into bread. Then he offered him the chance to test God, or His angels actually, by throwing himself off a cliff. Which I have always thought was probably not a very tempting temptation. To see if the angels would rescue him, right? Christ says no, like any sane person would if you asked him if he would like to jump off a cliff. “Finally, the Devil offered to make Christ the Ruler of the World. Much more tempting than jumping off a cliff, definitely. “But Christ rejects that too. “He rejects everything for what he cannot know. The Great Unknown. He chooses to take”– she shrugged her shoulders to underline how little it seemed– “whatever. Anything. He is saying that what is unknown is better than anything that is known. That the freedom to go through life without even ever knowing what is going to happen to you is the best possible thing that can happen, better than any miraculous gift could ever be.