Driving to the second Mass of the day was a bit of a deal because of torrential rain. Who wants to hydroplane across HWY 22 in the downpour? So I took it slow and wore a pair of Wellington boots to keep my 1% inside-the-beltway loafers dry.
In the sacristy I pointed to the boots and asked our MC, who's a renowned bronc champion, if he liked my "new church shoes." He shook his head.
"It's not that bad out there."
"Well c'mon, it was pretty much zero-viz coming up from the compound."
"Look. I'm not interested in your sad little stories, LSP."
"Yeah, said the rich man. You can't serve God and Mammon."
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| Wellingtons |
And that's what the sermon was about, with reference to Dives and Lazarus. Note that the former isn't named in the Gospel, he's nameless and accordingly not written into the book of life. "I do not know you," says Christ, elsewhere, and, "Depart from me ye cursed, into the lake of eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you did not feed me."
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| A Random Fish |
No, the rich man was too busy enjoying the mammonistic gravy train to love God or his neighbor and accordingly found his way to perdition, which is separated from heaven by a great chasm.
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| Don't Worship This |
Some say the god of our age is Mammon. I'd think twice before you pledge allegiance to that particular deity.
God bless,
LSP
