Evening Prayer

 

Look here, you heathen, it's important to read, mark and inwardly digest the Word of God because His Word informs our word, the thoughts of our hearts. And this means, in the first instance, making the actual effort to read the, you know, Bible.

Good job, we've got this far, but how to do it, what's the training program? Try this, Morning and Evening Prayer in which you're taken through the Old and New Testaments, canticles, psalms, epistles and gospels and on, and all within the framework of a daily discipline of prayer.

Maybe this seems boring to you, as in "prayer, how very boring." Think again. If you want to confront and fight evil, gear up for the higher battle, against the demonic powers of the air, of evil in high places. And you can do all of this, or part of it, in the Daily Office. 

I like the 1928 BCP form and you might too. I tell you, give it a spin and you'll be rewarded. Not kidding. Say the Office.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Vespers Said

 

Vespers is over and Mexican music fills the air as Eduardo, a good man, tends to several breeds of chickens, roosters and exotic ducks. Jesús, a house down from Eduardo, is running a welding rig and you can see its star bright light from the back deck of the Compound. 

He's working on some kind of metal frame which is already a story high, and who knows what this will become. A garage, a small shop, a fortified strong point? Regardless, I'm all in favor, we build, they destroy. That in mind, must get off the hind... and learn Spanish.

Then the phone rang and a young soldier excitedly announced that he'd bought not one, not two, but three uniforms by way of being prepared for deployment. He'd also purchased a large KA-BAR which fast release clips onto his plate rig.

Such martial ebullience was, I learned, part owing to a promotion; he's acting NCO in charge of battalion maintenance prior to a board next month. To that end, he's drawn up a training program involving weekly runs with his team in full gear, plates, helmets and all. Get fit to fight is his message.

Impressed by this I offered a congratulatory well done, and a promise to defray uniform expense. I did not share the story of a Para RSM, veteran of Arnhem and beyond who told this story, "When we were in Malaya we lost more men through self-inflicted knife wounds than anything else."

He was a model of his type and an inspiration to this day. I remember him taking his 1911 pistol out of an armoury safe and showing it to me, he loved that pistol, a keen marksman even retirement. 

Then UKGOV made it illegal for law-abiding citizens to own pistols and stole his 1911. What utter, tyrannical, lying, thieving Illuminati shill scoundrels. You see, free men can defend themselves, slaves can't.

we build, they destroy

That aside, well done boy on the military upvote and plans for combat readiness, let's hope the last part isn't needed and I mean that seriously.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Vesper Light

 

Sunlight gleamed through the window of this humble church, illuminating the temple. What a good way to end Evening Prayer, "Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

That in mind, here's some insight from Farrer:

From the first moment of its foundation, the Church was hard, clear, visible and firmly knit: nothing mossy about its edges. Its members professed one truth – they would not have risked death for religion, if they had not been convinced of the Gospel. They submitted their lives to the congregation, under the leadership of the ministers whom Christ’s Apostles had given them: if they were judged to have given scandal by their disloyal lives, they accepted penances from the Church, they fasted and wore mourning until they were readmitted to communion. They paid for the upkeep of the poor. They were present every Sunday at the Holy Sacrament: if they were absent, they were assumed to be sick: they were enquired after and the Holy Communion carried to them. Their heathen friends divorced their wives if they were tired of them: the Christians did not. Their heathen friends could make money in any profitable line: the Christians were forbidden a whole list of dishonest or indecent occupations. Their heathen friends rose in the government service: not so the Christians, because of the idolatrous oaths and other ceremonies attached to public office under Caesar. The lines were clear enough, sharp enough and costly enough, which silhouetted the living temple of God against a heathen sky.

This was the Church which Christ’s Apostles built for the honour of God, and if they did not know the mind of Christ, it is useless indeed for you to think that you will ever know it.

The lines were clear enough, sharp enough and costly enough, which silhouetted the living temple of God against a heathen sky. Yes indeed, and guinea on the monkey we're fast coming full circle to that very point.

God bless,

LSP

Point and Shoot

There comes a time on a Tuesday afternoon when you have options. You can get down to some well-needed remedial reading on the Gospel of Luke, or Just War Theory. You can edit the latest batch of articles that just crossed your virtual desk. You can read Drudge and ZeroHedge -- oh dear, Facebook, what an utter disaster -- again, you might even try and write something, or you can say, "Enough of this nonsense, I'm going to the range!" Which is what I thought and did.

It was interesting to see a John Deere with a skull mascot parked up at my parishioner's shooting enclosure. Somehow that augured well for the shoot.

The Enemy

I laid out some clays at 75 yards, two end-on Dr. Pepper cans, a couple of small iron plates and three Marlboro Light boxes on sticks. There was a sighting-in target at 100 yards beyond that, and there it was, the countryside, the tailgate, a value pack of ammo and the plinking.

Firepower

For some reason, I imagined the clays approximated to rabbit heads, which is odd, because these are notoriously smaller and not fluorescent orange. Whatever, they're fun to shoot, as were the mini plates and the soda cans. It took a little while to zero in on the Marlboro adversaries, but they came off their sticks after I got the measure of the thing.

Vespers

Shot a little high at 100 yards, overcompensating for the apparent 5" bullet drop explained on the box. I guess the little zingers go flatter than advertised, strangely. Maybe I'm missing something here and need to pay more attention to the front sight, but it's probably a good problem to have.

Not having the the energy to investigate ballistics further, I finished off with Evening Prayer on the tailgate. It was peaceful after the crack of the gun.

Shoot straight. All hail Facebook.

LSP