The Crows Ate While The Sheep Observed With No Shepherd To Intervene

Image by Majaranda from Pixabay

I took my dog to the Ocean. It’s a place called “Gyles Quay”. It’s around midday so the wind is nice and high generated some nice waves. It’s around 20 degrees and for Ireland that’s a heatwave, but there’s no sun just a sheet of cloud with nice ripples and structure to it.

There’s nobody on the beach except a few windsurfers. I take a look down and observe that apart from one dog walker who will soon disperse, there’s nobody around.

I take my dog “Ciara” on the lead at first. She’s quite excited when first emerging from the car due to pent up energy so she’s biting the lead in frustration. “Let me go! Let . . . me . . . go” Is what she’s saying. Her desire to run free and get her wiggles out is strong. At some point I allow her to go.

I come across some old stone houses the stones of which once absorbed the tears and laughter of an Irish family. They were built during the famine times of the mid 19th century. Now vacant the once thatched roof gone they have not become eye candy for the historically minded with an interest in Irish places. I have to say I’m one of those people.

Yeah, I could stare at them for hours and as the popular saying here goes, “If the walls could talk, what stories would they tell?” Not only were they houses but coffins that sheltered the corpses of these poor critters. Often many families were found sitting in a dark corner all dead. It would be easy to tell who died last due to decomposition.

I once heard a story of a mother being the last to die and I thought, “A mothers love is so strong she fought off the disease and took care of her family until the end. Now, there’s the kind of woman you want to walk down the aisle with, am I right? God bless her what a shock.

I take some time roaming around and inspecting the fresh water river that meets the mouth of the sea. After some pics I decide to walk back. It’s very windy, but it’s not a cold wind and is very comforting to say the least. Let’s put it this way, if one of my Greek friends were standing by me they’d have every coat in the house on them, but I’m well climatized to this contrary weather I must say.

On my way back I notice there’s not a soul about. I decide to converse with the Lord, or rather, TO the Lord as it’s a one way conversation. Sometimes it’s a one way conversation but at other times he answers back, in about a week through the mouth of someone I don’t like. I thank him for not talking to me through donkeys like he did Baal. Now, that would be a sight to see alright. No, I don’t think I’d recover from something like that. A Random opening of the Bible and getting a response that way will do me thank you very much.

The complaining I’m doing is pretty much the same complaining I did last week and the week before that. I often repeat myself to the Lord, and even though He responds I still ask the same thing that’s how stupid I am. For example during my trip to Limerick I spent the day thinking about the supposed calling to the diaconate and all the signs he sent. Then having been rejected from that due to my public stance on the vaccine, that quickly morphed into anger.

I drove around the city thinking, “Why would you call me anyway? Why am I here? How did I get from being a little heathen to religious? I didn’t ask for any of this”. Sure enough it took some time but he answered me in an Anglican Cathedral of all places. Exploring the Cathedral that day I stood on the Podium with the Big eagle on it like most Anglican pulpits have. I read the first few lines of Isaiah 65:1 ““I was sought by those who did not ask for Me; I was found by those who did not seek Me. I said, ‘Here I am, here I am,’ To a nation that was not called by My name.”

Here, at the Ocean I began talking to the Lord audibly. There had been nobody about so why not? It feels more real to me when you speak like that and so off the cuff. I am feeling really spiritually confused and so I’m whining. “Why” I asked, “Do you treat me like this? Did you really call me? Or because I had been picked up and dropped in the ocean (no pun intended) maybe I deluded myself into thinking all those signs you sent were real?” “Why” -I continue- “do you treat me this way? Is this fun for you? Does this glorify you to see me suffer like this? Why would you call me anyway, I’m a stupid person who is far too sinful for such an onerous task.”

After my little monologue I turn my head only to notice the sheep in the field next to me. They’re sitting there not moving while the crows gather around them pecking at the ground. I heard the Lord say, “They are without a shepherd.” Then I observed the scene of sheep surrounded by crows. I got an image of a lukewarm people indifferent to religion while the crows (the elite who govern the heights of politics and media) surrounded them eating their fill. At the same time I saw demons eating up all the seeds the Lords chosen had planted while the sheep sat back and let it happen with not a shepherd in sight to scare them off.

Then I spoke, “Who them? There’s nothing I can do for them and there’s nothing I can do for you either. I’m a sinful person from a poor background with no education. I don’t belong among these educated middle class types. I don’t even have a solid work history nor my own house in order and you want me to come and put yours in order? I don’t think you do. I’m deluded to assume you do yet all the signs you’ve delivered cannot be ignored.

When I come to your Orthodox Church, I will refuse all attempts at making me even as much as a person who locks the Church gate when Liturgy is over. No, I will sit at the back of the Church or wherever the priest wants me to sit and I will be at peace for once in my life. I will not fall for the mistake of becoming a “reader” again and I beg of you to let me dissolve into that kind of private life and let me resolve to do what I had always wanted to do.

I’m tired of this concept people have in their heads that because my walls are adorned with many icons that this means I’m Holy. “You should be a priest or deacon” they would conclude. Why? Why should I enter holy orders simply because I study theology and the fathers? Why Can’t I be an ordinary person and sit in the pew or stand at the back of the Church like every other Holy person so much better than I am? I’m tired of that. The way I saw it, life was good before my local Roman Catholic priest asked me to be a reader.

But I must admit life was not complete. Yes, for the desire to become Orthodox had plagued me for many years. The ugly thought of it I tried to bury as deep as I could but the Lord kept resurrecting it again and again. Now, having been betrayed by the local Church and having lost my trust in them all, it had been the push I needed to leave.

The spirit of Judas the Lord used in order to Crucify me in this Church and resurrect me in the new, yet ancient faith of the apostles. Lord have mercy on me.

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