Global Warming slammed North Central Texas this morning like a T34 opening fire on the Unter Den Linden or maybe the Tiergarten. Not that it looked like much to start with, just a light dusting of snow; Calgary in April sort of thing. But not so fast, scorners. Beneath the snow lay ice.
Blue Kodiak was eager to get out and off we stepped, skidding across the frozen tundra that was once a furnacelike temperate Texan town. Undaunted by biting, subzero wind we made it to the Shamrock, an Irish filling station owned by Nepalese and staffed by Mexicans. I like it because it's near, has an owl deity idol and good coffee, perhaps the best of its kind in town.
Shamrock complete, back into the icy blast and deserted streets of a farming settlement blasted by the scourge of Climate Change. It was colder, if that were possible, on the way back to the Compound, but we powered through, thank Gaia.
After Morning Prayer I called on an elderly member of the flock to see if she needed anything. Yes, ground beef, beef broth, an onion and a bottle of wine. She was fixing to make soup. A short and very slow drive to the supermarket later, she had her supplies. Without charity, you see, everything else is but a noisy gong and a clanging cymbal.
Priests, and everyone else, take note. It's very easy and very enjoyable to get behind a cause, to pick up Martel's warhammer and lay waste to heretics, malfeasants and apostates. And quite right too, it's a target rich environment and the Faith needs defending. But the exercise becomes a hollow, white-washed sepulcher of a pharisaical sham unless grounded in divine love.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the warhammer, especially against the Bolshevik devil. But remember, the substance of the Faith is God Himself, and He is love. Evil cannot withstand its, His, inexhaustible fire, I am that I am. Of course I preach to myself.
Happy Valentines!
LSP
