Sinister Bible Quotes

...throughout history the community of readers has been prey to sinister forces - to pedants and priests, legislators and lunatics, deities and demagogues. You have paid for your passion in humiliation, mutilation, and sometimes even - as when Henry VIII burned Bible translator William Tyndale as a heretic - immolation. I salute you all, as do my fellow books.

Some religions, such as Catholicism, fully endorsed slavery, as Pope Nicholas V made clear when, in 1452, he issued the radically proslavery document Dum Diversas. This was a papal bull granting Catholic countries such as Spain and Portugal “full and free permission to invade, search out, capture, and subjugate the Saracens and pagans and any other unbelievers and enemies of Christ wherever they may be, as well as their kingdoms, duchies, counties, principalities, and other property … and to reduce their persons into perpetual slavery.”10 These last few words—to reduce their persons into perpetual slavery—sound not just sinister to us, but also psychotic. They make perfect sense, however, in a Christian context, given that the Bible is itself a heedlessly proslavery tome.

Internal Bondage BIBLE READING: Mark 5:1-13 We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. When we are under the influence of our addiction, its hold may seem to have supernatural force. We may give up on living and throw ourself into self-destructive behaviors with reckless abandon. People may also give up on us. They may distance themselves from us, as though we were already dead. Whether our “insanity” is self-induced or has a more sinister origin, there is power available to restore us to sanity and wholeness.

Please don’t give me answers; though that is what I say, that is not what I long for in this chest of broken pieces. I do not want your sympathy, your pat Bible verses, or your lofty promises of prayer. No, I want something much more sinister than that. I ask you to suffer, to take my nails of my grief and drive them into yourself. I ask you to be silent, shut your mouth, and open your hands. Don’t say you understand. Just touch me. Will you hold my hand? Though it’s cold and bony, will you embrace me tightly? Can you wail as I wail, curse as I curse, pray as I pray? I don’t want to be fixed; I want to be known. I want your presence kneeling by my bed, feeling useless, powerless, helpless. Yes, for then, for then, you will understand a small part of me that few have had the courage to know.

Over one thousand people have left our church since I called out [the White supremacy rally in] Charlottesville and reminded our people “only Jesus is supreme.” And by the way, I’m bold and stubborn but very loving, gentle, and measured with my words. Yet we “beat people up over race,” “White people are second-class citizens,” and “it’s all Pastor talks about.” Never mind one would be hard-pressed to find a staff more committed to the exaltation of Jesus and His Word. Sigh. And then George Floyd and the Chauvin trial. . . . Still more loss, anger, and cost. It is idolatry and sinister and sick.

... It strikes me that if I'm in such a febrile and imaginative mood I ought to take advantage of it with some serious writing exercises or at least a few ideas for stories, if only to demonstrate that I'm not treating this here commonplace book solely as a journal to record my most recent attacks of jitters! Maybe I should roll my sleeves up and attempt as least an opening practice paragraph or two of this confounded novel I'm pretending to be writing. Let's see how it looks. Marblehead: An American Undertow By Robert D. Black Iron green, the grand machinery of the Atlantic grates foam gears against New England with the rhythmic thunder of industrial percussion. A fine dust of other lands and foreign histories is carried in suspension on its lurching, slopping mechanism: shards of bright green glass from Ireland scoured blunt and opaque by brine, or sodden splinters of armada out of Spain. The debris of an older world, a driftwood of ideas and people often changed beyond all recognition by their passage, clatters on the tideline pebbles to deposit unintelligible grudges, madnesses and visions in a rank high-water mark, a silt of fetid dreams that further decompose amid the stranded kelp or bladder-wrack and pose risk of infection. Puritans escaping England's murderous civil war cast broad-brimmed shadows onto rocks where centuries of moss obscured the primitive horned figures etched by vanished tribes, and after them came the displaced political idealists of many nations, the religious outcasts, cults and criminals, to cling with grim determination to a damp and verdant landscape until crushed by drink or the insufferable weight of their accumulated expectations. Royalist cavaliers that fled from Cromwell's savage interregnum and then, where their puritanical opponents settled the green territories to the east, elected instead to establish themselves deep in a more temperate South, bestowing their equestrian concerns, their courtly mannerisms and their hairstyles upon an adopted homeland. Heretics and conjurors who sought new climes past the long shadow of the stake; transported killers and procurers with their slates wiped clean in pastures where nobody knew them; sour-faced visionaries clutching Bunyan's chapbook to their bosoms as a newer and more speculative bible, come to these shores searching for a literal New Jerusalem and finding only different wilderness in which to lose themselves and different game or adversaries for the killing. All of these and more, bearing concealed agendas and a hundred diverse afterlives, crashed as a human surf of Plymouth Rock to fling their mortal spray across the unsuspecting country, individuals incendiary in the having lost their ancestral homelands they were without further longings to relinquish. Their remains, ancient and sinister, impregnate and inform the factory-whistle furrows of oblivious America.

... It strikes me that if I'm in such a febrile and imaginative mood I ought to take advantage of it with some serious writing exercises or at least a few ideas for stories, if only to demonstrate that I'm not treating this here commonplace book solely as a journal to record my most recent attacks of jitters! Maybe I should roll my sleeves up and attempt as least an opening practice paragraph or two of this confounded novel I'm pretending to be writing. Let's see how it looks. Marblehead: An American Undertow By Robert D. Black Iron green, the grand machinery of the Atlantic grates foam gears against New England with the rhythmic thunder of industrial percussion. A fine dust of other lands and foreign histories is carried in suspension on its lurching, slopping mechanism: shards of bright green glass from Ireland scoured blunt and opaque by brine, or sodden splinters of armada out of Spain. The debris of an older world, a driftwood of ideas and people often changed beyond all recognition by their passage, clatters on the tideline pebbles to deposit unintelligible grudges, madnesses and visions in a rank high-water mark, a silt of fetid dreams that further decompose amid the stranded kelp or bladder-wrack and pose risk of infection. Puritans escaping England's murderous civil war cast broad-brimmed shadows onto rocks where centuries of moss obscured the primitive horned figures etched by vanished tribes, and after them came the displaced political idealists of many nations, the religious outcasts, cults and criminals, to cling with grim determination to a damp and verdant landscape until crushed by drink or the insufferable weight of their accumulated expectations. Royalist cavaliers that fled from Cromwell's savage interregnum and then, where their puritanical opponents settled the green territories to the east, elected instead to establish themselves deep in a more temperate South, bestowing their equestrian concerns, their courtly mannerisms and their hairstyles upon an adopted homeland. Heretics and conjurors who sought new climes past the long shadow of the stake; transported killers and procurers with their slates wiped clean in pastures where nobody knew them; sour-faced visionaries clutching Bunyan's chapbook to their bosoms as a newer and more speculative bible, come to these shores searching for a literal New Jerusalem and finding only different wilderness in which to lose themselves and different game or adversaries for the killing. All of these and more, bearing concealed agendas and a hundred diverse afterlives, crashed as a human surf on Plymouth Rock to fling their mortal spray across the unsuspecting country, individuals incendiary in that having lost their ancestral homelands they were without further longings to relinquish. Their remains, ancient and sinister, impregnate and inform the factory-whistle furrows of oblivious America.

If we do not labour to establish justice in the gate, we shall be accused from this passage in Amos of a one-sided morality stopping short of the biblical concern for society, we shall be exposed, according to Amos 3:9-4:5, of playing around with a useless religion while society rots, and we shall find, according to Amos 6:3, that, while we have been unconcerned, other and sinister forces have been at work to enthrone violence and disorder.

The spirit-filled believer is always eager to maintain unity and peace. To this end, they strive to preserve close-knit relationships. Perhaps it is their quest to be worthy of their calling that undergirds their humble and gentle lives. Not only are they plain and direct in their dealings, but they also never resort to sinister plots to undermine others. Likewise, they are understanding and forbearing even with aggressors.

The events of 9/11 were predicted in the ‘Back to the Future’ movies, and, in dozens of other, movies, magazines, and album covers…including Busta Rhymes’ 1997 album, titled, ‘When Disaster Strikes.’ When Disaster Strikes, was released a mere four years before the events of 9/11 unfolded. The art on the DVD features a sinister-looking

rebuilt in the Pergamon Museum. The sinister project was completed in 1930, and now you too can behold the famous gates that Daniel must’ve passed through during his exile of Jerusalem if you fly to Germany.

Psalm 127 is the eighth of fifteen Psalms entitled, “Songs of Ascents,” which are discussed in greater detail below under “Africa Unite.” A key message of the Psalm is that, unless centered on God, all activity is “vain,” meaning “useless, worthless, senseless.”399 Weiser explains, The verdict ‘in vain,’ which is passed three times on man’s literally ‘God-less’ activities sounds quite sinister and shattering. This radical formulation has been chosen in order to effect the radical renunciation of an attitude of mind which is so absorbed in work and worries that it loses sight of God’s providence and his effect on life.400

Modern Satanism was pragmatically defined in “The Satanic Bible” by Anton LaVey in the 1960’s and 70’s a Western concept embodying an organized, rational Satanic Philosophy. The Church of Satan was centered on carnal indulgence and fierce independence. Satan has always represented a model of Self-Liberation and crossing boundaries created by dogmatic religion. The Church of Satan provided this platform and over the years the Left-Hand Path tradition has expanded and evolved continuing with Michael Aquino and the Temple of Set. Other controversial and extreme paths centered in Satanic Magick as a road to self-transformation, evolving beyond physical and mental limits and experiencing aspects of Satanic Philosophy and Ceremonial Magick as found in the anarchist and chaos-bringing Sinister Tradition known as the Order of Nine Angles (ONA) in the 1980’s. From the 1960’s and into the late 70’s a self-identified “Sethanic” and “Satanic” Witch named Charles Pace (Hamar’at), living in London, introduced and defined the modern outline of what he called then, “Luciferian” and “Sethanic” initiatory teachings. In the time of Gerald Gardner’s Wiccan movement and the Neo-Pagan RHP explosion, Charles Pace was soon forlorn and a maverick whose authentic Egyptian teachings and rites created a slight aura of fear and the forbidden around him.