#and we ran into a nearby synagogue

[todaviia]

Hey! I'd really like to learn more about the (recent) history of Israel and wanted to ask if there are any books you can recommend?

Hey I've thought about this ask quite a while and there's just so much stuff about Israel, what exactly do you qualify as "recently"? Like since 1948, since the 1967, since 1990s etc?

There's quite a lot of books and tbh, it also really depends on what you're interested in and if course, you should also read Palestinian stuff along with it. Personally, the Israeli writers/intellectuals I really enjoy are Yehuda Amichai (mostly poetry but really political), Yoram Kaniuk (his book "1948" is, I think, the closest to the true story of the founding of the state from the Israeli POV that you're going to find, even if many people won't admit it, also his book about the Exodus is really really good) and Yeshayahu Leibowitz (who has some really interesting thoughts especially about the relationship between state and religion, which is a super complex issue in Israel). I also remember enjoying Rabbi Sachs' book about the future of the state of Israel and a lot of people say he's very approachable even if you know very little about this whole issue.

From the Palestinian side, of course reading Mahmoud Darwish is just as important as reading Yehuda Amichai is for Israel, Edward Said is also considered important enough that you have to read him even though I honestly am kinda ambivalent about him. There's also currently a lot of debate at least in Germany about the book "A minor detail" (which deals with "the other side" of Kaniuk's 1948) and while I felt like that book left a lot of things out (like the fact that all of the Israeli soldiers involved in the main action of the book faced criminal charges and the whole thing was not just treated as a minor detail but rather a big scandal in the Israeli army) it is an important part of the story.

If you want more recent history, I've read both Pfeiffer's biography of Bibi (which was HILARIOUS because that guy very obviously hated Bibi and was using the weirdest opportunities to be petty about him) as well as Bibi's autobiography and I feel like there is no understanding current Israel without understanding Bibi and while I absolutely have zero love for the guy as a person or a politician, he is also very much a product of his circumstances.

Also this isn't a book but my boyfriend is currently obsessed with a YouTube channel called "The Ask Project" where people can send in questions and he asks Palestinians or Israelis that, and I think a lot of the questions are good and he really makes an effort to be fair.

#There's just so much Stuff #Like you can't understand Israel without understanding the Holocaust #Or without understanding the nakba #Or without reading about those last two Jews left in Afghanistan who hilariously hated each other #Until one of them died and the other had to flee from the Taliban takeover #Or the last jew of Yemen who is currently being tortured by the houthis #whose slogan contains the words death to Israel and curse the Jews #and who fire missiles at us #and innocent Palestinian children being bombed in Gaza right now #and how two weeks ago we were at an Arab Jewish peace group meeting and the sirens went off #and we ran into a nearby synagogue #and Ahed Tamimis they called me a lioness #(and also her Instagram post where she said what Hitler did to you will be a joke compared to what's coming) #you won't understand the fascist horror of Ben gvir without understanding that the entire Jewish Community of Iraq was ethnically cleansed #and you won't understand any of it also without reading the Bible #which plays less of a role than you'd think

[feverinfeveroutfic]

blood & wine | chapter two of six

I had only just finished the babka, the kugel, and the matzo soup when my phone rang, and he had called me to tell me that he had landed at the airport and he was on his way home for the time being. That gave me time to work on his birthday cake, and I knew I had a metallic dome in the kitchen to hide it once he came about.

A nice decadent devil's food cake for his day coming up there, complete with all the chocolate frosting and the cherries on top. A devil's food cake for my little devil on his special day.

The whole apartment smelled of cinnamon, pasta, chicken soup, and chocolate once I was done with it all, and that point, I myself was feeling rather famished. I put the dome over his birthday cake and tucked it into the very back of the fridge lest he take a peek in there that night.

No sooner had I made myself a little pastrami sandwich when a knock on the door caught my attention. With my free hand, I ran my fingers through my hair, and I hurried my way up to the front door. I swallowed down the final bites of the sandwich and licked my fingers, and then I flung the door open.

He was starting to grow out his bangs a little bit, but they hugged his face and his brow now, and he had dyed his gray streak some time ago: the dye was beginning to wear off and that little sliver of gray at the top of his head was starting to make a comeback. He wore a little black leather jacket that fit him rather snugly over his little red T-shirt: I saw he had lost a little weight over the last month as his shirt was just short of laying flat on his belly. But he had gained a little shape to his hips and his legs, though, and I couldn't help but let my eyes wander on him and the way his jeans fit him.

“Quite a surprise to see you here,” I told him, still with my mouth full.

“What, for right now or later on for my birthday?” he retorted, and I nearly choked from laughing. I finally swallowed and set a hand on his shoulder.

“You tell me,” I said, and then I gestured for him to come on in. He sniffed the air once the door was closed behind him.

“Do I smell kugel?” he asked me.

“As a matter of fact, you do!” I declared. “I made kugel and babka for Rosh Hashanah.”

He closed his eyes and rested a hand on his chest. He then opened his eyes part of the way as if he was preparing to seduce me.

“My grandma made me babka before I left, so... I shall see what you've got for me.” His voice was low and quiet, as if he whispered a secret to me. Alex never took his jacket off as he strode into the kitchen with me: I had taken the babka out of the oven and let it rest on the counter for almost an hour, but I knew it was getting close to readiness. He stood there before the cooling rack with his hands on the edge of the counter, and he leaned forward for a whiff of the top, a braided loaf of phyllo dough with marbling from the chocolate and the kiss of cinnamon and sugar.

“Mmm... smells like home,” he declared in a near whisper.

“So what do you do for Yom Kippur?” I asked him.

“It’s a Day of Atonement,” he replied in a normal voice. “We basically fast and repent all day, and this includes breaking up some cheap bread and tossing it into a nearby river. My grandparents always go to synagogue without fail, and sometimes my parents do, too, but growing up, I remember we’d worship and repent at home.”

“Interesting,” I remarked, and yet I could hardly take my eyes off of him and the way that he fawned over the babka on the counter before him as if he was looking at a chest of gold and all manner of treasure. “There are apples and honey in the fridge, too.” He flashed a knowing glance over at me.

“You know the tradition well, Eric,” he told me with a wink.

The next thing I knew, I was serving him a plate of apple slices with a little dish of wild honey straight out of the pantry. I sat down next to him right as he leaned back against the couch cushion and rested his hands on either side of his hips.

“I see you’ve lost some weight,” I remarked.

“About sixteen pounds,” he told me. “Considering I gained about twenty-five.” He rested a hand on his belly, now soft and nearly flat. “It’s a little weird, too, because my grandma made a lot of food for me and my grandpa.” Very slowly, he rubbed his hand over his belly, and then he raised his fingers and lightly raked the tips across the fabric of his shirt. I knew I was going to have difficulty in eating the apples, especially when he had learned how to worm his way into my mind, even after being away from here for more than a month. I was more than certain that I would have my work cut out for me once I served him his birthday cake in the coming days.

Alex reached for an apple slice, and he dipped one edge of it into the honey. He held one hand underneath it to catch anything extraneous, and all the while, he locked eyes with me. He took a bite of the apple and never looked away from me.

“Will you have enough room for the kugel and the babka?” I asked him, and I felt my throat close up. I could feel that familiar burgeoning feeling right between my legs. This boy was going to make a man out of me yet again: I could feel it in my bones all over me. I took a bite of apple myself, which was made all the more delicious and decadent with the wild honey.

“I think I might,” he told me once he swallowed the bite. “I ain’t turning down babka, either, especially not the chocolate one.” He stuck the rest of the apple slice into his mouth, and he turned away from me right then.

This was new to me.

Perhaps while his grandparents were out of the room, he picked up a few tips and tricks on his end by the power of his own hand. I needed to give him the ace up my own sleeve from thence forth.

He downed the rest of his apple and then rubbed his hands together.

“How 'bout that kugel?” he asked me with a sly smirk on his face.

“Would you like some?” I offered him.

“Oh, ho, you know it.” Alex leaned back against the couch cushion and rested his arm across the top, and he crossed one leg over his knee. It was there I could see his tummy; I was going to fill that little tummy with everything he could ever wish for.

I strode into the kitchen to fetch the kugel and the babka, the latter of which had cooled off a great deal from before, but I could feel the warmth as it radiated off the bottom of the pan. There was a part of me that wanted to waltz back into that room, complete with a bit of a sashay to entice him. Then again, I had enticed him enough already, and I was about to reel him in like the venom of a scurvy little black widow.

I sat back down and served him a little kugel on his plate: the babka awaited us in the dead center of the coffee table. All the while, he told me about his grandparents back east.

“I love New York and New England, that whole area,” he was saying. “My whole family has their roots there, so I just figure it's a place I need to go.”

“You're leaving?” I begged to him.

“Well, not right now,” he promised me with a shake of his head and a little smile on his face. “I have to make a whole entire plan and things like that. It's just this feeling that I have, this... persistent feeling. This longing, dare I say.”

“It's funny because—sometimes I have that feeling as well,” I told him as I shoveled in a few bites of pasta. “That feeling that... there should be more to life than what we've got right now. The question is what exactly.”

“That's my exact feeling,” he said, and I noticed he ate up the kugel at a slow pace. Perhaps to help him keep the weight off?

We chatted for a bit longer, and then at one point, I watched him rest his plate on his lap with one or two more bites of pasta left behind.

“What's the matter?” I asked him, and I resisted the urge to tease him a little bit all the while.

“I don't know if I can eat the babka,” he confessed to me, and he let out a low whistle. He had only eaten two plates of kugel, and there was plenty left over in the pan in the kitchen. Then again, he had those apples and honey prior to then, and those on their own had filled me up a bit as well as wet my whistle. But then again, it was Rosh Hashanah: we both needed a sweet beginning to the new year, even though I wasn't Jewish. He and I could both use the proverbial sweetness.

I watched him carefully as he picked up that pasta in one fell swoop and slipped it into his mouth with his eyes closed. There was something so delicate about his side profile, and especially when he was indulging in homemade food. I could only imagine what he looked like at his grandparents' house, eating that homemade food over there among other things. He swallowed and let his tongue fall out of his mouth like that of a dog.

“So good,” he breathed out, and he gave his hair a little shake with the flick of his head. I topped mine off, and then we both leaned back on the couch for a second.

“I hope it wasn't too heavy on the cinnamon,” I confessed to him.

“You were perfect with it,” he said with a shake of his head and a licking of his lips. I could see it in his eyes. He either wanted the babka or me, but I needed to know which was which once it came down to it.

I needed a knife for the babka as well.

I made my way to the kitchen for one, and I had the strangest thought nestled in the back of my mind. This weird little temptation that told me to go further with it all. Indeed, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the full feeling within me was waning away fast. It waned away fast, and I knew for a fact that I could make myself as well as him eat more than we had initially known before.

I brought the long knife back into the living room with me, only to find that Alex was once again taking in the aroma of the babka before him. I returned to my spot on the couch next to him, and I prepared us both with slices of babka, in all its richness and warmth still intact. The spirals inside dripped with that chocolate glaze, and we were both greeted with the aroma of cinnamon. I then turned to him, and I reached over to his plate for a piece of his babka.

“May I feed you?” I offered him with a fork full up towards his mouth.

“Would you like to feed me?” he retorted back to me. I licked my lips at that.

“I'll feed you if you feed me,” I offered him again. “The couple of pigs we were.”

“We?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“We.”

He showed me his tongue, and then he parted his lips as if he wanted the bite. I slipped the fork into his mouth, and he closed his eyes. He took the bite and leaned back against the couch cushion. I had awoken something in him once again.

He then opened his eyes and looked over at me, and then he swallowed the bite.

“This could use a little wine,” he told me in a low voice.

“You're not old enough to drink yet,” I pointed out.

“I don't care,” he quipped with a shake of his head. “We need wine.”

I pursed my lips. “I don't think I have any wine,” I said. He leaned closer to me with a hooded look to his eyes.

“I believe you do,” he whispered to me, and he stuck his fork into my slice of babka, and he brought it up to my mouth.

“Eat up, big boy,” he breathed to me. Just like him, I opened my mouth and took the bite, except I took it with my eyes open. Indeed, the chocolate was molten as it dripped down my throat, and the cinnamon caressed me down like a series of a feathers.

“That's gorgeous,” he whispered to me.

“Not as gorgeous as you,” I quipped back to him. I fed him another bite, and he did the same with me. We fed each other babka until our last bites: he stuck the tines of his fork into my own, the last bite overall, and he leaned up against my body all the while.

“What're you doing?” I asked him.

“You tell me.” His body was warm and intoxicating: I had made him something so decadent and lovely for the Jewish New Year, and now he was returning the favor. He brought his chest to mine as he held the fork before my mouth.

“Have a bite,” he breathed to me.

I took the bite, and then I moved my plate over to the arm of the couch so he could have more room. While I was chewing it, he brought his lips to the side of my neck: a little cinnamon kiss.

I leaned back against the couch cushion as he gently nibbled on my skin. I swallowed and parted my lips to let out a low moan from the feeling. He was getting me good, and we were going at it raw as well.

Unless I got him first.

I let my fingers wriggle down into his jeans, and it was right then I realized he had unbuttoned them while I was in the kitchen: the hem of his shirt had protected him from my point of view. The leather of his jacket as well as the warm skin on his belly rubbed against my forearm: he may have lost weight but he still blew up when he ate too much. I was about to reach his dick, hidden away in his underwear when I felt his long lanky fingers on my forearm.

“And just what do you think you're doing?” he whispered right into my ear. “What you want me to do,” I groaned back at him.

I then rolled him off the couch, past the coffee table and onto the floor. He lay on his back with his hair spread over his face.

I tugged down his jeans and revealed him to me: he was just shy of a full erection.

He may have paid me with a cinnamon and chocolate kiss, but I was about to give him the ultimate dose of both. I licked my lips and held my hair back with one hand, and I brought my mouth down to him. Cinnamon, chocolate, and a bit of salt and cream was just what I had asked for.

I moved my head down all the way towards his body so the tip touched the back of my tongue: no way I was going to do a full deep throat after everything we had eaten, but I did go in deep.

He clasped onto the leg of the coffee table with one hand, and he clutched at himself with his other hand. He whimpered and gasped at the feeling; I could feel him growing harder inside of my mouth, especially when I came ever so close to the deep throat.

His wish was my command, and my wish was his command.

His dick was sopping wet by the time I lifted my head and gazed right into his stunned face.

“How 'bout that for a welcome home?” I asked him with a lick of my lips and a sly grin to him.

“You think you can get a second dessert?” he sputtered to me with a clearing of his throat.

“I know I can,” I quipped back to him, but then he reached for me. He pushed me back onto the floor behind me with only one hand. He hung right over at me, complete with a hooded look to his eyes and his black curls dangled down onto the side of my face. He showed me his tongue again, and then he ran his fingers through the hair on the side of his head to show me his ear and the side of his neck. The right lapel of his leather jacket had been brushed back onto the angle of his shoulder, which only made him all the more handsome to me.

“Will you be back for Halloween?” I whispered into him.

“Absolutely,” he whispered back to me. He rested his elbow on the floor next to me, and the full round shape of his belly emerged out from under his shirt. His jeans still remained down his legs which in turn showed me the shape of his hip, and the leather of his jacket hugged the rest of his upper body as if it was made for him. It was so weird to think that he wouldn't be able to eat for the holy day.

“So you’re going to fast,” I muttered to him.

“Yup. In fact, I’m glad you’ve—filled me up for today and even more come Sunday.” He closed his eyes and nudged more of his hair back from the side of his head: his long black hair cascaded all around his head and neck like the windswept tendrils from a tree. “I’m going to need it for that day. A little extra poundage will keep me fed from dawn to dusk.”

“Let me join you,” I begged him, to which he raised his eyebrows at that.

“You want to join me in fasting? But you're not Jewish, though, Eric.”

“Yeah, but... I want to feel closer to you, though,” I pointed out. “And I wanted to know what comes next.”

He paused for a second, and then he showed me a little smile at that. He lowered his head towards my own once again, that time for a kiss on the side of my face and a lick of the rim of my ear.

“You feed me so well,” he whispered to me, to which he nearly breathed the words. “I should make you something for being so sweet to me.”

“What would you make me?” I asked him.

“I don’t really want to give it away,” he confessed to me with a little kiss on the side of my neck.

“You know… you look really sexy in leather, Alex,” I confessed to him.

“You think so?” He cracked me that little lopsided smile, that little smirk that indicated as though he was up to no good.

“What're you thinking about?” I asked him.

“Thinking about making you something for Halloween,” he replied.

“Like what?”

“I'll leave that as a little surprise for you,” he retorted. “A little trick up the ol' sleeve, dare I say.” He flashed me a wink and kissed the tip of my nose. No sooner did he do that when he moved his hand down inside my jeans to fondle me. And it was right then I remembered that we had neglected to have matzo soup.

We could have it for the next day. Besides, we could get each other off in one fell swoop, and no one would ever have to know, either.

We both were incredible forces of nature, and we were going to have enough babka for the night before Yom Kippur for certain.

#blood & chocolate #blood & chocolate fanfic #blood and chocolate #blood and wine #blood & wine #halloween special #chapter 2 #smut #smut warning #kinktober 2023 #kink tag #kinktober #kink tumblr #fanfiction #eric peterson #alex skolnick #testament fanfic #testament #testament band #also on ao3 #fanfic #slash fic #slash fanfiction #text #writing

[betweenandbeloved]

Cana of Galilee

Cana of Galilee is the location of Jesus’ first miracle or the first sign that Jesus was the Messiah, found in John 2:1-11. The Wedding Church at Cana sits overtop of a first-century synagogue. This has been the only synagogue discovered in Cana; therefore, this is definitely where the story of the Wedding at Cana took place.

Pictured: The Wedding Church at Cana

On the third day, there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. when the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They don’t have any wine.” Jesus replied, “Woman, what does that have to do with me? My time hasn’t come yet.” His mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Nearby were six stone water jars used for the Jewish cleansing ritual, each able to hold about twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water,” and they filled them to the brim. Then he told them “Now draw some from them and take it to the headwaiter,” and they did. The head waiter tasted the water that had become wine. He didn’t know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. The head waiter called to the groom and said, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and they bring out the second-rate wine only when the guests are drinking freely. You kept the good wine until now.” This was the first miraculous sign that Jesus did in Cana of Galilee. He revealed his glory and his disciples believed in him. - John 2:1-11

In the 1st century CE. weddings were a little different than what most of us know today. For starters, the guest list was somewhere between 700 and 1200 people. The entire town was invited along with all of your family, even the most distant relatives you didn’t know you were related to. Second, weddings lasted for 7 days: 6 days of celebrations with the actual ceremony/wedding on the 7th day.  Hospitality (in most cultures besides America) is a big deal. If you didn’t have enough wine for the entire 7 days of wedding celebrations, it would be seen as a huge dishonor on the family. This mentality is still true today. Our guide said that any time he invites people over, they always prepare twice as much food just in case more people show up. 

The last interesting part about first-century wedding customs is that men and women were always separated during the celebrations. What I found interesting was that our guide gave some cultural context to looking at verse 4 from the wedding story.

“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.” - John 2:4

As a feminist, I’ve always struggled with this text, wondering why Jesus would address his mother as “Woman;” a phrase not necessarily used to convey endearment. Our guide gave the story context by explaining: Mary left the women’s section of the party and entered the men’s section to talk to Jesus. To address Mary as “woman,” was actually the most respectful way to address his mother in front of strangers. Calling her “woman” was not rude or disrespectful, but actually quite the opposite. Since this was a wedding with hundreds of people, likely many of whom Jesus didn’t know, he addressed Mary out of respect in a culturally appropriate way.

This is one of the many great examples of why it’s important to understand the cultural context that the Bible took place. Here I was annoyed that Jesus was being cheeky to his mother when he was being quite the opposite.

While visiting the church, each of the married couples had the option to renew their vows. Having only been married two months earlier, Jonathan and I weren’t going to participate but we got roped into it anyway. So now, I can say I’ve married my love twice now.

Pictured: some of us renewing our vows. I think Dave & Alice (in the center) were the couple married the longest while Jonathan & I were the newest newlyweds on the trip.

After seeing the church we went down below to look at the ruins of the first-century synagogue. Along with lots of rocks, we were able to see a first-century stone jar like the ones mentioned in the story.

Pictured: ruins of the first-century synagogue

Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons. - John 2:6

The reason stone jars were used as opposed to clay, glass, or ceramic, is that stone is the only element that doesn’t become unclean after it is used in a sacred manner. The jars were not moved, which is good because I’m pretty sure no one could lift them.  

Pictured above: a first-century stone jar with me for size comparison

Once we were done visiting the church, we walked around some of the shops next door and got to try some of the famous “Wine from Cana.” The lovely woman who let us try the wine said “It’s sweet so you think of Jesus when you drink it!” Thankfully, our tour guide informed us (before we visited the site) that there are no wineries in Cana so it’s all just a tourist trap. Hey, can’t fault them for trying, I’m sure there are lots of people who bring home wine bottles from Cana! (Yes, I totally wanted one. No, we did not get any)

#holyland2023 #holy land #cana #cana of galilee #wedding at cana

[dfroza]

An “awakening”

like rebirth of the heart (spirit) by raising the dead to new life.

(inside, Anew)

and we must “believe…” to see

faith is an act of courage

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Mark:

They traveled across the sea to the land of Gerasa in Galilee. When Jesus came ashore there, He was immediately met by a man who was tortured by an evil spirit. This man lived in the cemeteries, and no one could control him—not even those who tried to tie him up or chain him. He had often been bound in chains, but his strength was so great that he could break the chains and tear the irons loose from his feet and hands. No one and nothing could subdue him. Day and night, he lurked among the tombs or ran mad in the hills, and the darkness made him scream or cut himself with sharp-edged stones. When this man saw Jesus coming in the distance, he ran to Him and fell to his knees in front of Him. Jesus started commanding the unclean spirit.

Jesus: Come out of that man, you wicked spirit!

Unclean Spirit (shouting): What’s this all about, Jesus, Son of the Most High? In the name of God, I beg You—don’t torture me!

Jesus: What is your name?

Unclean Spirit: They call me “Legion,” for there are thousands of us in this body.

And then Legion begged Jesus again to leave them alone, not to send them out of the country.

Since the Gerasenes were not Jews (who considered pigs to be unclean), there happened to be a large herd of swine, some 2,000 of them, feeding on the hill nearby.

Unclean Spirit (begging): Send us into those pigs if You have to, so that we may enter into them.

Jesus granted the request. The darkness swept up out of the man and into the herd of pigs. And then they thundered down the hill into the water; and there they drowned, all 2,000 of them.

The swineherds ran away, telling everybody they met what had happened. Eventually a crowd of people came to see for themselves. When they reached Jesus, they found the man Legion had afflicted sitting quietly, sane and fully clothed; when they saw this, they were overwhelmed with fear and wonder.

Those who had witnessed everything told the others what had happened: how Jesus had healed the man, how the pigs had rushed into the sea, and how they had destroyed themselves. When they had heard the whole story, the Gerasenes turned to Jesus and begged Him to go away.

When Jesus climbed back into the boat, the cured demoniac asked if he could come and be with Him, but Jesus said no.

Jesus: Stay here; I want you to go back home to your own people and let them see what the Lord has done—how He has had mercy on you.

So the man went away and began telling this news in the Ten Cities region; wherever he went, people were amazed by what he told them.

After Jesus returned across the sea, a large crowd quickly found Him, so He stayed by the sea. One of the leaders of the synagogue—a man named Jairus—came and fell at Jesus’ feet, begging Him to heal his daughter.

Jairus: My daughter is dying, and she’s only 12 years old. Please come to my house. Just place Your hands on her. I know that if You do, she will live.

Jesus began traveling with Jairus toward his home.

In the crowd pressing around Jesus, there was a woman who had suffered continuous bleeding for 12 years, bleeding that made her ritually unclean and an outcast according to the purity laws. She had suffered greatly; and although she spent all her money on her medical care, she had only gotten worse. She had heard of this Miracle-Man, Jesus, so she snuck up behind Him in the crowd and reached out her hand to touch His cloak.

Woman (to herself): Even if all I touch are His clothes, I know I will be healed.

As soon as her fingers brushed His cloak, the bleeding stopped. She could feel that she was whole again.

Lots of people were pressed against Jesus at that moment, but He immediately felt her touch; He felt healing power flow out of Him.

He stopped. Everyone stopped. He looked around.

Jesus: Who just touched My robe?

His disciples broke the uneasy silence.

Disciples: Jesus, the crowd is so thick that everyone is touching You. Why do You ask, “Who touched Me?”

But Jesus waited. His gaze swept across the crowd to see who had done it. At last, the woman—knowing He was talking about her—pushed forward and dropped to her knees. She was shaking with fear and amazement.

Woman: I touched You.

Then she told Him the reason why. Jesus listened to her story.

Jesus: Daughter, you are well because you dared to believe. Go in peace, and stay well.

While He was speaking, some members of Jairus’s household pushed through the crowd.

Jairus’s Servants (to Jairus): Your daughter is dead. There’s no need to drag the Teacher any farther.

Jesus overheard their words. Then He turned to look at Jairus.

Jesus: It’s all right. Don’t be afraid; just believe.

Jesus asked everyone but Peter, James, and John (James’s brother) to remain outside when they reached Jairus’s home. Inside the synagogue leader’s house, the mourning had already begun; the weeping and wailing carried out into the street.

Jesus and His three disciples went inside.

Jesus: Why are you making all this sorrowful noise? The child isn’t dead. She’s just sleeping.

The mourners laughed a horrible, bitter laugh and went back to their wailing. Jesus cleared the house so that only His three disciples, Jairus, and Jairus’s wife were left inside with Him. They all went to where the child lay. Then He took the child’s hand.

Jesus: Little girl, it’s time to wake up.

Immediately the 12-year-old girl opened her eyes, arose, and began to walk. Her parents could not believe their eyes.

Jesus (to the parents): Don’t tell anybody what you’ve just seen. Why don’t you give her something to eat? I know she is hungry.

The Book of Mark, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 29th chapter of the book of Job with further pondering:

Job continued.

Job: Ah, that I were as I once was, months ago

during the time when God oversaw me,

When His lamp shone above my head,

and by His light, I walked through the darkness.

Ah, to be in the ripest time of life once more—

when the intimacies of friendship with God enfolded my tent,

When the Highest One was with me

and my children encircled me,

When my steps were bathed in milk

and the rock poured out rivers of olive oil, showering my body,

When I went up to the gate of the city,

when I took my seat in the town square where the elders meet.

There the young saw me and made room for me, in deference to elders.

The old rose and stood out of respect.

The leaders stopped talking

with their hands over their mouths.

The voices of nobles fell to a hush;

their tongues stuck to the roofs of their mouths.

Every ear that heard me blessed me,

and every eye that saw me testified to my greatness.

After all, I rescued the poor when they cried out for help

and assisted the orphans when they had no one else.

The dying spoke their blessings over me,

and the widows sang their joyful songs honoring what I did.

I adorned myself in righteousness,

and it covered me;

my justice fit me like a cloak and turban—

conveying both my dignity and my authority.

I was the eyes for the blind,

the feet for the lame,

A father for the needy,

and I sought for the cause of whom I did not know.

I broke out the fangs of the wicked

and wrested prey from their jaws.

Then I said, “I will pass from this earth in the comfort of my nest.

My days will be more numerous than a beach’s grains of sand.

My roots will grow deep, spreading out to the water’s edge,

and in the night, the dew will come to rest on my branches.

Respect will be accorded me every day,

my skill with the bow always new in my hand.”

People used to listen to me,

the sense of expectation visible on their faces;

they waited in silence for my advice.

And when I finished, they did not hurry to speak again.

They waited while my words dropped like dew upon them.

Indeed, they waited for me as one waits for a good rain,

and they opened their mouths as if to catch spring showers on their tongues.

I smiled upon them when their confidence flagged,

and they took comfort in my beaming face.

I led them in their way.

I sat as their leader.

I lived like a king among his troops.

I was as a happy man spreading comfort among the mourners.

The Book of Job, Chapter 29 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The great wisdom of the ages begins with fearing God. It is the evil of the world that clouds our understanding and leads us into foolishness.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, may 24 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the Oneness of God our beautiful mysterious Creator:

There are various clues given throughout Scripture about God’s divine nature (Rom. 1:20). The Torah itself begins with intimations of the "One-in-the-Many" character of God. When we read, "In the beginning, God (אֱלהִים) created the heavens and the earth," we must ask who exactly is speaking? In other words, who is the divine narrator of the Torah? The next verse states that the Spirit of God (רוח אלהים) was hovering over the face of the waters, followed by the first “direct quote” of God Himself: i.e., יְהִי אוֹר: "Let there be light" (Gen. 1:2-3). The creative activity of Elohim (God) and the presence of Ruach Elohim (the Spirit of God) are therefore narrated by an omniscient Voice or Davar Elohim (the Word of God). Obviously the Spirit of God is God Himself, just as the Word of God is likewise God Himself, and consequently the very first verses of the Torah reveal the nature of the Godhead: God is One in the sense of echdut, “unity,” “oneness,” and so on, though not “one” in the monistic sense of a solipsistic mind (νοῦς). Indeed, a monistic idea of God (i.e., God as "absolute" oneness) is inherently self-absorbed and unable to accommodate being outside of itself. Such a god may serve as an "unmoved mover" or "first cause" of a cosmic machine, but it is not relational within itself. Indeed, there can be no sense of “person” apart from relationship, and therefore God’s Personhood is as eternal as his Being.

Yeshua is the Source of all life in the universe: כָּל־הַמַּעֲשִׂים נִהְיוּ עַל־יָדוֹ / "All things were made by Him (John 1:3). The "Word made flesh" is the "image of the invisible God" and the "radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint (χαρακτήρ, 'character') of his nature" (Col. 1:15). All of creation is being constantly upheld by the word of His power (Heb. 1:3): "All things were created by Him (i.e., Yeshua), and for Him" and in Him all things consist (συνεστηκεν, lit. "stick together") (Col. 1:16-17). As our Creator and Master of the Universe, Yeshua is both our King and our Judge, and therefore our lives center upon him... Ultimate Reality is found in the presence of Yeshua our LORD, and eternal life is found in Him alone: "For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Yeshua the Messiah" (2 Cor. 4:6). “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:18).

“The grace of the Lord Yeshua the Messiah (האדון ישׁוע), and the love of God (אהבת האלהים), and the communion of the Holy Spirit (רוח הקדשׁ), be with you all” (2 Cor. 13:14). Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Deut. 4:39 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/deut4-39-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/deut4-39-lesson.pdf

5.22.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

A deeper message emerges from the connection between Ivri and Eiver. From a young age, Abraham was unlike any other people of his generation. As it related to religious beliefs, morality and ethics, it can be said that the whole world was on one side, and Abraham was on the other. He was not afraid to be different and didn’t shy away from speaking out against evil. For him, living a life of truth mattered more than receiving the approval of others. This made Abraham worthy of bringing God’s message to the world.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

May 24, 2023

Memory and the Holy Spirit

“But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.” (John 14:26)

John wrote his detailed discourses of Jesus (almost half of the verses in John’s gospel consist of His words) approximately 50 years after Christ spoke them, yet John was able to report them verbatim because of the supernatural memory of them brought back by the Holy Spirit. The same must have been true for the other biblical writers as they recalled words and events of years before.

In a real, though different, sense, the Holy Spirit also can “bring to our remembrance” the words of Scriptures just when they are especially needed in witnessing or for personal guidance or some other need. This will only be operational, of course, if they have first been stored in our memory, either by direct memorization or by such frequent reading and studying of the Bible as to make it a part of our subconscious memory.

Recall how the unlearned fisherman Peter was able to quote long passages of Scripture when he needed them (see, for example, Acts 2:16-21, 25-28, 34-35). He had apparently spent much time in studying and even memorizing key portions of the Old Testament. Jesus, of course, frequently quoted Scripture in His conversations, and Paul quoted Scripture abundantly in his epistles. Should we not do the same?

Scripture memorization has been a great blessing to many Christians over the years but seems to have become almost a lost art in this day and age. Nevertheless, Christ has promised answered prayer “if ye abide in me, and my words abide in you” (John 15:7). So, as Paul urged, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly” (Colossians 3:16). HMM

[girlactionfigure]

Boston police are investigating a stabbing reportedly involving a rabbi outside a Brighton school Thursday afternoon.

The victim, identified as Rabbi Shlomo Noginski, was stabbed multiple times in the Brighton Common park at Chestnut and Washington streets, near the Shaloh House school.

A suspect, later identified as Khaled Awad, 24, of Brighton, was arrested a short time later on Chestnut Hill Avenue, authorities said.

In a note sent to parents, the school said Noginski was attacked and had stab wounds to his arm. He was taken to a Boston area hospital where he was in stable condition.

Rabbi Dan Rodkin, the executive director of the Shaloh House, said Noginski was stabbed eight times.

Rodkin said the suspect approached the rabbi while he was talking on the phone, sitting on the steps of the school.

According to Rodkin, the suspect demanded the rabbi’s car keys at gunpoint, but also wanted the rabbi to get in the car. Rodkin said Noginski ran across the street into the park where he was stabbed.

Investigators said the motive of the stabbing was not immediately clear.

There are kids from preschool age and older that are part of the Shaloh House summer camp program that was taking place across the street.

The school said in the note to parents that once the staff became aware of what happened, the facility went into lockdown to ensure the safety of children and staff in the camp.

"At no point during the incident were any of the children in danger," the note said.

A knife and gun were found in a nearby alley where Awad was arrested.

Police said Awad was expected to be arraigned in Brighton District Court on charges of assault and battery by means of a dangerous weapon and assault and battery on a police officer.

"Today's attack on a rabbi in Brighton has sent a shockwave of fear and anxiety throughout the community," a statement from ADL New England said. "As this investigation unfolds, we call for full transparency so that the community gets answers as to why a rabbi was stabbed outside of his house of worship."

Brookline police said in a note to community members that special attention would be given to nearby temples and synagogues following the incident.

[mypoisonedvine]

First Chanukah Together (Night 6) | Ari Levinson x reader

(mini-series masterlist)

summary: you and Ari honor a sixth-night tradition and take some time to help those in need.

word count: 1153

warnings: none, just fluff and adorable kiddos and the reader getting a slight baby fever, lol

Ari had told you that in his family, it was tradition to dedicate the sixth night of Chanukah to social justice and work for the less fortunate— whether that be a donation, volunteering, or advocacy of some kind.  Luckily, you didn’t need to come up with a charitable cause on your own, because his synagogue was having a volunteer event at a local children’s home.  Playing with adorable kiddos for a few hours was the perfect way to spend an evening, in your mind.

When you arrived, the woman who had helped organize the whole thing decided Ari would be the most help playing sports outside, while you offered to help with arts and crafts.  The kids were busy coloring, and you weren’t sure exactly how to initiate conversation with them until you noticed some construction paper and mini-scissors.

“Hey, do you guys know how to cut out paper snowflakes?” you questioned as you took a seat around the table with them.  When a few looked up and shook their heads, you offered to show them how: folding the paper in half and creating shapes with your scissors, you unfolded it to reveal the final product as they ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed.

“I wanna try!” a little boy piped up.  

“Sure, just be careful with the scissors, okay?” you reminded him as he picked up a pair and got to work.

“I wanna make a green snowflake!” a girl decided.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a green snowflake before,” you pondered aloud.  

“You’re about to,” she grinned, making you laugh.

Time seemed to fly after that, conversation flowing as you helped them with their snowflakes and dutifully nodded in awe of their various designs.  They’d taken to coloring them in differently and adding stickers, and you offered to stick them on the big window nearby so the people outside could see their beautiful art.  As you did it, though, you took a moment to watch Ari play in the yard with the boys, falling onto the ground as they all tackled him and climbed all over him.  

“Is that your boyfriend?” one of the girls asked you as they all giggled at the question.  You could hardly remember being that age and being so shy about boys and relationships, back when everybody had cooties and the last thing you wanted was to be accused of sitting in the proverbial tree.

“Um, yes,” you answered, causing them all to gasp and whisper.  

“Are you gonna marry him?!” one of them immediately pressed.

“Uh, maybe,” you shrugged.  

“Are you guys gonna have a baby?” another chimed in.

“Woah woah, slow down,” you chuckled nervously, hoping to change the discussion before they inevitably asked something even worse.  Thankfully, they started gossipping about who liked who within their own group rather than continuing to scrutinize you.  

That went on for a while before you were called away to help with something— and you could use the break, honestly.  You’d forgotten how scary it could be to talk to kids, always afraid you’d say the wrong thing and somehow scar them for life.  And with scissors involved, you were also afraid one of them would literally be scarred for life!

On your way back to the table, you stopped to admire the enormous Christmas tree in the foyer of the building, stacked full of presents underneath.  You were glad that donations gave these kids a chance at some really nice gifts.

“That one’s mine,” one of the boys— Charlie, if you recalled correctly— informed you suddenly as he pointed to a large box wrapped in blue sparkly paper.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, it’s from Santa,” he explained confidently.

“That’s cool!  What do you think it is?” you asked curiously.

“I asked for a bike, so that’s what I’m hoping it is at least,” he shrugged.  “What gifts did you ask Santa for?”

“Um,” you paused, “well, I didn’t ask him for anything…”

“Why not?!” he questioned incredulously, like he was incensed that you wasted an opportunity for gifts.

“I… uhh… I don’t celebrate Christmas,” you explained.

“WHAT?!”

“Well, we’re Jewish,” Ari swooped in to wrap his arm around you, making you sigh with relief.  “So we celebrate Chanukah.  In fact, today we’re celebrating one of the nights of Chanukah.”

“There’s more than one?”

“Uh huh, in fact there’s eight.”

“Cool!” Charlie announced, his attention suddenly torn away as he ran off to go play with the other kids.

Ari laughed at your exhausted sigh, pulling you into a quick hug.  “You’re a natural,” he praised.

“Are you kidding?  Kids are terrifying,” you shuddered.  “You missed out earlier when the girls were giving me a third degree about our relationship.”

“Really?” he laughed.  “Like what?”

“Like if we’re gonna get married, and if we wanna have a dozen babies and stuff!”

“I mean, maybe not a dozen…” he trailed off, making your cheeks warm.  You and him had had a few talks about the future of your relationship, but you hadn’t realized he was so serious about you to not even question the idea of marrying you.  “The boys just wanted to know how I got a girlfriend in the first place.”

“And what’d you tell them?”

“I told them the truth: you just can’t resist my rugged, masculine charms,” he smirked, brushing his fingers through his hair dramatically as he puffed up his chest.

“Mm hmm, I’m sure they saw right through that,” you chuckled.  

“Yeah,” he agreed, deflating a little.

“Mr. Ari!” another boy appeared, tugging at the leg of your boyfriend’s jeans.  “Are you gonna play football with us?”

“Yeah, I’ll be outside in a minute,” he answered before the kid scampered off.

“You’re so good with them,” you noted.

“So are you,” he responded, “really.  The snowflakes are cute.”

“Oh wow, I can teach kids to cut paper, I’m basically Mr. Rogers,” you scoffed.

“No, hey, they love you,” he assured.  “You’re there for them.  You’re nice to them.  That goes a long way with these kids.”

You smiled a little as you realized he was right, although it broke your heart that so little would mean so much to these children.  “Yeah,” you nodded.  “Thanks.”

As you went back to the crafts table hoping they hadn’t broken into the glitter and made a huge mess, you watched Ari dash outside, scooping up a kid into his arms and carrying him for a moment.  You smiled to yourself— maybe it was just because of the conversation you’d had with the kids earlier, but you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if that was your child with him, how incredible of a dad he would be.  And apparently he thought you had some talent in that area as well, which was comforting.  Sure, it was a little soon to be worrying about that… but maybe it wasn’t too early to secretly fantasize about it.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson fluff

[jewish-privilege]

A man waving a Nazi flag and shouting “Heil Hitler” was kicked out of a rally for Bernie Sanders on Thursday, a shocking incident targeting the man running to be the first Jewish president.

The flag, styled professionally in the actual designs of Nazi Germany, hung prominently over a banister at the 7,000-person Arizona Veterans Memorial Coliseum at the start of Sanders’ speech. The person stationed himself in the upper deck of the arena, behind where Sanders was speaking.

The man was shouting anti-Jewish slurs at Sanders and performing the Nazi salute, said Ron Mack, 40, an attendee at the rally who was sitting nearby. “He never put his arm down,” Mack said. “Everybody was in disbelief.”

Security removed the man from the event several seconds after he unfurled the flag. Mack, who spoke to BuzzFeed News the day after the rally, followed him outside to make sure he was removed, and the man shouted racial slurs at him, an incident that was captured on video.

The Anti-Defamation League identified the man as Robert Sterkeson, a white supremacist who has "harassed a range of Jewish and Muslim organizations and events," often posting the stunts on YouTube.

Sanders appeared to hear the commotion, turning to his right to look to the stands, but the flag had already been taken down. Aides told him about the incident after the rally.

“The senator is aware of the flag with the swastika on it and is disturbed by it,” said Sanders’ communications director, Mike Casca. Multiple protesters caused disruptions at the rally, including one who unfurled a “TRUMP” banner.

The incident comes at a time of increasing concern about the rise of white nationalism in the country and a rise in anti-Semitic incidents, including deadly synagogue shootings. For Sanders and his team, it also comes weeks after prominent media figures described his rise in terms the candidate and his supporters have found to be anti-Semitic.

At the urging of his advisers, Sanders has spoken more openly this year about his background as the son of a struggling working-class Jewish family in Brooklyn much more explicitly than when he ran for the Democratic nomination four years ago. Earlier Thursday, his campaign released its latest video highlighting that. “I would be very proud to be the first Jewish president,” Sanders tweeted. He has spoken about how his Jewish heritage affects him “profoundly” and of visiting Poland, where much of his father’s family was murdered in the Holocaust.

Sanders’ father came to the US from Poland at the age of 17 to “to escape widespread anti-Semitism,” as Sanders put it during his campaign launch speech in March. The Vermont senator, born in 1941, has described growing up with an acute awareness that his father’s immediate family “was wiped out by Hitler and Nazi barbarism” during the Holocaust.

Over the last month, as he’s traveled across the county, Sanders has been preoccupied with and deeply angered by the media comparisons to the Nazi army and coronavirus, raising the issue publicly with reporters and privately with his advisers.

...“You’re talking about a candidate who had to listen to somebody say that our supporters are brown shirts — that’s Nazi supporters. What a disgrace,” he told reporters. “A candidate who described a victory that we had as Nazis invading France.” Chris Matthews made the comparison on MSNBC last month, and left the channel this week after a string of missteps.

...Neither Sanders nor Biden is traveling with the protection of the US Secret Service — a somewhat atypical setup at this point in the primary for two major political figures. (During his first presidential run four year ago, Sanders received Secret Service protection at the start of voting in the Democratic primary, around the time of the Iowa caucus in February.)

On Wednesday, the day after protesters rushed the stage at Biden’s Super Tuesday event in Los Angeles, House Homeland Security Committee Chair Rep. Bennie Thompson asked the Department of Homeland Security to add both candidates to the USSS roster. “I think it’s an unfortunate sign of the times in 2020 — a white supremacist showing up at a public event with a swastika,” said Jonathan Greenblatt, head of the Anti-Defamation League. “They need to make sure they have adequate security at their campaign events.”

“I don't agree with all Bernie's ideas, for sure, but he's the highest-profile Jewish candidate running for the presidency and it's, albeit unsurprising, it's alarming to see the anti-Semitism being directed at him," he said.

#antisemitism #senator bernie sanders #swastika #arizona

[tothestarsandbackmoved]

Theres this old bookstore in kochi, a few streets away from the fort and harbor. its so small you can miss it because its stuck in between two bus stops and a huge jewellery shop.

When I went there the only person in it was this old man who has been running it for years and years and he says it's been around since the 1930s....almost 90 years..

The books in the front of the shop are relatively new, plenty of amish and chetan bhagat and a bunch of travelogues but in the back are books I've literally never heard of and they're all so dusty that moving them a bit made the air cloud with dust and the titles of some are worn and faded but it's all so quaint and pretty. I adored that shop so much though my mom didnt let me buy anything from it :/

Theres also this beautiful old synagogue that's like really famous. Sadly by the time we went it was closed but it was still beautiful. Theres this one iron pillar? sort of thing there to the side that's said to be centuries old and it has all these inscriptions on it and it was just insanely good. Also at that time this random toddler who was the daughter of one of the nearby shopkeepers ran away from her mom and launched herself onto me it was hilarious. She clung to my leg for a while until her dad came to get her it was adorable af.

I'll be sad seeing you go from tumblr. I love your blog a lot and you, of course. But I guess with the pandemic ending I always expected a lot of my friends to stop using tumblr so much and be more focused on their real life and I'm glad you're doing that. Whatever you're going to do I hope it brings you a lot of happiness💗

-💌

there is so much in this ask id love to talk about. the book shop you mention? i feel like there's a few like that scattered across the country. in delhi, i visited this bookstore with books piled up to the windows run by an old man. he looked like he had read all of those books. in dehra, i visited this bookstore where there was barely any room to walk, and i felt like those books were not being sold, but collected.

the oldest books that are unsold always seem to have stories attached to them, why they were overlooked, how many people flipped through them, authors that are long dead, only having died in the past decade. those pages are faded but the story is still waiting to be told. i recently got a copy of paradise lost by john milton from one such store, from a man who ran the store [who recommended it to me]. I don't understand the verse but i think i can recognise how many people have lived through that poem.

i lovelovelove little babies and what you describe is so cute. little kids looking up to you seems like you've been chosen and it's so innocent and pure.

thank you for saying that, and i love our interactions, and id say that love extended to you too. I'm going away for now and while this decision is deliberate, it is a hard one. I'll miss this place i think, and people I've befriended here. well, the people i hope to stay in touch with over other social media. honestly, people who i want to talk to [that includes you too] i want to continue talking to.

#also btw im still here for the next 2 weeks atleast. so slow transition #letter anon #alex #this was so lovely

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Sat., Aug 15, 2020

Commemorated on August 2_Julian calendar

The Transfer from Jerusalem to Constantinople of the Relics of the Holy FirstMartyr (protomartyr) Stephen (428)

     The Transfer from Jerusalem to Constantinople of the Relics of the Holy FirstMartyr Stephen occurred in about the year 428.      After the holy FirstMartyr Archdeacon Stephen was pelted with stones by the Jews, they threw his holy body without burial for devouring by the beasts and birds. The reknown Jewish law-teacher Gamaliel, having begun to be inclined towards faith in Jesus Christ as the Messiah and also defending the Apostles at the Sanhedrin (Acts 5: 34-40), on the second night sent people devoted to him to take up the body of the Firstmartyr. Gamaliel gave him burial on his own grounds, in a cave, not far from Jerusalem. When in turn there died the secret disciple of the Lord, Nicodemus, who had come to Christ at night (Jn. 3: 1-21; 7: 50-52; 19: 38-42), Gamaliel likewise buried him nearby the grave of Archdeacon Stephen. Afterwards Gamaliel himself, having accepted holy Baptism together with his son Habib, was buried near the grave of the FirstMartyr Stephen and Saint Nicodemus. In the year 415 the relics of the saint were uncovered in a miraculous manner and solemnly transferred to Jerusalem by the archbishop John together with the bishops Eleutherios of Sebasteia and Eleutherios of Jericho. From that time began healings from the relics.      Afterwards, during the reign of holy nobleborn emperor Theodosius the Younger (408-450), the relics of the holy FirstMartyr Stephen were transferred from Jerusalem to Constantinople and placed in a church in honour of the holy Deacon Laurentius, and after the construction of a temple in honour of the FirstMartyr Stephen the relics were transferred there on 2 August. The right hand of the FirstMartyr is preserved in the Serapionov chamber of the Troitsky-Sergiev Lavra.

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

Acts 6:8-15; 7:1-5, 47-60 (Protomartyr)

8 And Stephen, full of faith and power, did great wonders and signs among the people.

9 Then there arose some from what is called the Synagogue of the Freedmen (Cyrenians, Alexandrians, and those from Cilicia and Asia), disputing with Stephen.

10 And they were not able to resist the wisdom and the Spirit by which he spoke.

11 Then they secretly induced men to say, "We have heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and God."

12 And they stirred up the people, the elders, and the scribes; and they came upon him, seized him, and brought him to the council.

13 They also set up false witnesses who said, "This man does not cease to speak blasphemous words against this holy place and the law;

14 for we have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and change the customs which Moses delivered to us.

15 And all who sat in the council, looking steadfastly at him, saw his face as the face of an angel.

1 Then the high priest said, "Are these things so?"

2 And he said, "Brethren and fathers, listen: The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham when he was in Mesopotamia, before he dwelt in Haran,

3 and said to him, 'Get out of your country and from your relatives, and come to a land that I will show you.'

4 Then he came out of the land of the Chaldeans and dwelt in Haran. And from there, when his father was dead, He moved him to this land in which you now dwell.

5 And God gave him no inheritance in it, not even enough to set his foot on. But even when Abraham had no child, He promised to give it to him for a possession, and to his descendants after him.

47But Solomon built Him a house.

48 However, the Most High does not dwell in temples made with hands, as the prophet says:

49 Heaven is My throne, And earth is My footstool. What house will you build for Me? says the LORD, Or what is the place of My rest?

50Has My hand not made all these things?'

51You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do you.

52Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who foretold the coming of the Just One, of whom you now have become the betrayers and murderers,

53who have received the law by the direction of angels and have not kept it.

54When they heard these things they were cut to the heart, and they gnashed at him with their teeth.

55But he, being full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God,

56and said, "Look! I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!"

57Then they cried out with a loud voice, stopped their ears, and ran at him with one accord;

58and they cast him out of the city and stoned him. And the witnesses laid down their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul.

59And they stoned Stephen as he was calling on God and saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."

60Then he knelt down and cried out with a loud voice, "Lord, do not charge them with this sin." And when he had said this, he fell asleep.

Matthew 17:24-18:4

24When they had come to Capernaum, those who received the temple tax came to Peter and said, "Does your Teacher not pay the temple tax?"

25He said, "Yes." And when he had come into the house, Jesus anticipated him, saying, "What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth take customs or taxes, from their sons or from strangers?"

26Peter said to Him, "From strangers." Jesus said to him, "Then the sons are free.

27Nevertheless, lest we offend them, go to the sea, cast in a hook, and take the fish that comes up first. And when you have opened its mouth, you will find a piece of money; take that and give it to them for Me and you.

1At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, "Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"

2Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them,

3and said, "Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.

4Therefore whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

#ortohodxy #orthodoxchristian #ancientfaith #wisdom #spirituality #gospel #martyr #saint #christianity

[creepingsharia]

“We Shall Come for Your Head Soon”: Muslim Persecution of Christians, February 2019

‘Muslim men beat and raped a Christian woman and mother of four for leaving Islam. The 41-year-old woman became a secret Christian in 2017; however, threats began after Somali Muslims saw her at a church...’

by Raymond Ibrahim

Massacres of Christians

Nigeria: A number of fatal Islamic terror attacks targeting Christians occurred throughout February:

February 10: Muslim Fulani herdsmen killed 10 Christians and an unborn child.  Armed herdsmen in large numbers had surrounded the Christian village around 11 p.m. the (Saturday) night before. “We heard gun shots, and this forced me and my family to remain in our bedrooms as it was difficult for us to run out of the house,” said one survivor. “The Fulani gunmen surrounded our house and were shooting and shouting, ‘Allahu akbar [God is greater].’ They killed my father, mother, two brothers, and one of my sisters-in-law.”  The attack came as a complete surprise, even for the village head:  “We have never had any misunderstanding with the Fulani herdsmen, so I don’t know why they attacked our village,” he said. “Ten members of my community, including a pregnant woman, were killed during the attack, thus making the unborn child to be the eleventh victim.”

February 12:  In the northeast, Boko Haram jihadis invaded four Christian communities, killing several Christians and displacing many others. “I saw a man who I know to be a Christian and a member of the Church of the Brethren in Shuwa, my home town, shot to death,” said one eyewitness. “Also, Bulama, a community leader in Madagali, was shot dead alongside many Christians.”

February 26: Muslim Fulani herdsmen slaughtered at least 32 people in Maro, a Christian village in north-central Nigeria.  Churches were also damaged and a boarding school shut down. “We ran out of the church building as the shooting was going on,” said a woman who was in a Bible study class when the raid began.  “Many have been killed, and I have not seen my family members since morning. I have escaped out of the area.” Another local Christian said, “The armed herdsmen are shooting anyone they see and are setting fire on houses and church buildings.”

Reported on February 25: Muslim herdsmen attacked a Christian wedding celebration, killing 12 people.  “From behind the hill overlooking this village emerged armed Fulani herdsmen who shot indiscriminately at Christians from various churches here at the venue of the feast,” said one local. “Twelve Christians who are members of various churches were shot dead instantly, while another five Christians were injured.”  Six of those murdered were children.

Burkina Faso: Muslim terrorists slaughtered a 72-year-old Christian missionary in the Muslim-majority African nation. According to the report, “Antonio Cesar Fernandez was travelling with two colleagues from Togo back to their community in the capital Ouagadougou when a group of jihadists stopped their car. After searching the vehicle they made the 72-year get out and took him to a forested area. A few minutes later there was the sound of shots.”  Antonio had been a missionary in Africa since 1982.

Attacks on Churches

Ethiopia: Angry Muslim mobs attacked ten Christian churches. “The incensed crowds comprising Muslim residents of all ages from across the town made their way to the churches chanting ‘Allahu Akbar’ after being given false information that a mosque in the surrounding countryside had been fire-bombed,” said a local. “The contents of all the churches were removed from the buildings and set on fire on the street.”  According to the report,

One of the attacked churches, Meserete Kristos Church, has since been vandalized again, and area Christians have faced intimidation and threats…  While Kale Hiwot Galeto church building was destroyed in the Feb. 9 attack, aid workers believe the other nine church buildings were not set ablaze only because of the risk to neighboring Muslim-owned properties.  Municipal police were present during almost every attack but took no action….  More than 9,900 worshippers are estimated to attend the 10 churches. A small number of Christians sustained minor injuries and returned home after receiving hospital treatment, including two that were more seriously injured… Huge amounts of property were destroyed, including Bibles, song books, instruments, benches and chairs….

France:  During just the first two weeks of February, “[a]t least 10 incidents of vandalism and desecration of Catholic churches have been reported in France,” notes a February 15 report. “Vandals in Catholic churches throughout the country have smashed statues, knocked down tabernacles, scattered or destroyed the Eucharist, burnt altar cloths and torn down crosses, among other acts of desecration of religious items.” The St. Nicholas Catholic Church in Houilles was vandalized on three separate occasions in February; a 19th century statue of the Virgin Mary deemed “irreparable” was “completely pulverized,” said a clergyman, and a hanging cross was thrown to the floor.   Similarly, Vandals desecrated and smashed crosses and statues at Saint-Alain Cathedral in Lavaur; they mangled the arms of a crucified Christ in a mocking manner; an altar cloth was burned. “God will forgive. Not me,” the city’s mayor said.  On the very next day, Vandals plundered and used human excrement to draw a cross on the Notre-Dame des Enfants Church in Nimes; consecrated bread was found thrown outside among the garbage.  According to Father Emmanuel Pic from Notre-Dame parish, “Nothing of value has been broken, but it is the intent that is very shocking. This is what characterizes profanation.” The Observatory on Intolerance and Discrimination against Christians in Europe added that “It is our sincere hope that the perpetrators are brought to justice and that awareness of increasing anti-Christian hostility in France reaches the public square.”

Turkey: On Sunday, February 23, threatening graffiti messages were found on the main entrance door of the Armenian Church of the Holy Mother of God in Istanbul. The Armenian Patriarchate of Constantinople said in a statement that “There were written racist and hate speeches in both English and Arabic [saying] you are finished!” One Armenian writer shared images of the vandalism on Twitter and wrote, “The walls and the door of the Balat Surp Armenian Church. We built its entrance with rocks from the historical church in İznik [Nicaea], where the council met [Council of Nicaea, 325]…. Now they say, ‘YOU ARE FINISHED.’ There are no local [Armenian] people left. The ‘New Turkey!’” Commenting on this latest church attack, an Armenian Member of Parliament, tweeted, “Every year, scores of hate attacks are being carried out against churches and synagogues. Not just the perpetrators, but also the people who are behind them, should be addressed. For the most important part, the politics that produce hate should be ended.”

Egypt:  Due to the closure of their church in December 2018, Coptic Christians held their third funeral in the middle of the street in February.  They had long tried to get the necessary permits to register their unofficial church, to no avail.  According to the report,

The village currently has no church, but there are approximately 2500 Coptic Christians living there… The police had closed the church in order to pacify the Islamists, who used a nearby mosque’s microphone to rally Muslim villagers against the Christians….  Unfortunately, the situation in Kom al-Raheb is commonplace throughout Egypt. Police frequently cave to the demands of hardline Islamists instead of protecting the right of Christians to freely practice their faith. When churches are closed, Christians are left to worship and hold rites (such as funerals) in the street.

Attacks on Apostates, Blasphemers, and Evangelists

Kenya: Muslim men beat and raped a Christian woman and mother of four for leaving Islam.   The 41-year-old woman became a secret Christian in 2017; in 2018, however, the threats began, after Somali Muslims saw her at a church: “We have known that you are a Christian, and one of us saw you come out of a church on Sunday,” read one message. “If you continue attending the church, then we shall come for your head soon.”  She and her four children, who had also converted to Christianity, quickly relocated. Then, on January 2, four Somali Muslims forced their way into the Christian family’s home: “I was beaten and then raped by four men who threatened me, telling me not to say anything about the ordeal that I went through.  As they left the house at 1 a.m., one of them said, ‘We could have killed you for being a disgrace to Islam and joining Christianity, which is against our religion, but since you are a single mother, we have decided to spare your life with the condition that you should not mention our names.’”

Pakistan: On February 19, four Christian women were falsely accused of blasphemy, prompting “enraged Muslims” to riot and dislocate approximately 200 Christian families from the village.  Problems began when a Christian landlord asked a Muslim couple to leave, because they had been “causing trouble among the Christian families in the community,” to quote locals.  In retaliation, the Muslim wife accused four Christian women—three of whom were the landlord’s daughters—of desecrating a Koran.  “As news of the accusation spread, a mob of enraged Muslims gathered … and attacked several Christian properties, including [the landlord’s] house and a nearby church. The mob killed pets, livestock, and damaged several Christian homes by stoning them.”  Soon after a police investigation began, “it was revealed that Samina Riaz [the Muslim accuser] borrowed a copy of the Quran from Khalid Khan, a nearby shopkeeper,” explained a local involved with the case. “When she reached home, she threw it into a water tub in the restroom. She purposely alleged the Christian women of desecrating the Holy Book of Islam.”  Even though Samina Riaz confessed to framing the Christians, “members of the mob are still refusing to allow Christians to open their churches,” says the report.

Meanwhile, Asia Bibi, a Christian mother who was in prison — and on death row — for nearly a decade, was finally acquitted in late 2018. However, apparently to placate tens of thousands of angry Muslims who rioted and protested all throughout Pakistan, authorities still kept her a prisoner. In a February 9 report, which until very recently contained the latest information concerning Asia’s whereabouts, AP quoted a human rights campaigner in contact with her: he saidthe government had her and her husband locked in a single room where “the door opens at food time only.” She was permitted to make phone calls in the morning and at night, usually to her daughters. “She has no indication of when she will leave…. They are not telling her why she cannot leave.” Because many Muslims have vowed to kill her, “At the moment, she has security, but she could face problems any moment, any time, and it could happen very quickly,” said the contact. Most recently, on May 8, it was reported that Bibi had finally left Pakistan and was at long last reunited with her family in Canada.

Ethiopia: “An Ethiopian police officer was arrested, dismissed and forced to move to another part of the country after he told colleagues about his Christian faith,” says a report.  The 25-year-old man, using the pseudonym of Adane, grew up in Ethiopia’s eastern Somali region, which is “nearly 100 percent Muslim.”  Although he became Christian two years ago, problems for him began when another policeman “recently filed a complaint against him with the Somali State Human Rights Office. He had been heard talking about his newly found Christian faith while in uniform.”  The deputy chairman of the Human Rights Office, an ethnic Somali himself, was reportedly “greatly surprised to discover that there actually was a Christian within the tribe.”  He “advised Adane to return to Islam. Adane refused, claiming a constitutional right to religious freedom. He was then arrested.  Following intervention by the Human Rights Office-chairman, Adane was released, only to find he had been dismissed from the police force. The chairman advised Adane to relocate to another area because he had made too many enemies locally…”

Iran:  February witnessed a significant increase of state sanctioned persecution of Christians.  In the city of Rasht, nine Christians were arrested and detained.  One of them, a pastor who took over after his predecessor was arrested, was himself arrested on February 10, during church service. Although Rasht has had its fair share of persecution—at least three Christians from there recently received a sentence of 80 lashes—“[t]he past month represents the heaviest wave of publicly known arrests in Rasht within the last three years,” says the report.  “It is the policy of the Islamic government not to put thousands of Christians in jail,” explained Dr. Hormoz Shariat, a human rights activist. “Their policy is to arrest a few and put maximum sentence on minor offenses [such as holding church meetings in a home]. They then publicize it in order to put fear in the hearts of Christians. Their strategy is causing fear and isolation.” 

In another incident reported on February 1, five women, former Muslims who had converted to Christianity, were arrested.   One of the women, a 65 year-old, was arrested in her home.  According to the report,  

Authorities confiscated several of her personal items, including electronics and Christian materials (such as Bibles), while searching her residence. She was detained for ten days and interrogated during that time. She was temporarily released after paying a bail of 30 million Toman [$600]. However, she was later charged with “acting against national security.” The prosecutor forced her to visit an Islamic religious leader who offered her the opportunity to return back to Islam.

Another of the apostate women faced the charge of “disturbing public order, propagating Christianity, and connecting with foreign entities.”  If convicted, all these Christians could face up to ten years in prison.

Tajikistan: New amendments to the Muslim majority nation’s religion law are being used to exercise tighter control over its small Christian community. As one February 25 report explains, “Tajik authorities implementing a new religion law are barring children from attending religious [church] services and have burned [five] thousands of calendars with Bible verses.” 

Hostility for and Violence against Christians

Germany: On February 15, “in the multicultural district of Berlin Neukölln, a Christian from Iraq was hit in the face by a Muslim … and threatened with a knife because of a Christian tattoo,” said a February 17 report (in translation).  Two men approached the 27-year-old Iraqi Christian, “on account of his religious tattoo,” and demanded money.  “He did not comply with this request, whereupon one of the unknown held him and the other beat him several times in the face,” while drawing out a knife.  The Christian eventually managed to escape.  One of the two assailants were arrested.  According to the police report, “The arrested person claims to be of Muslim faith.”

-------------------------

Read it all, and years worth of previous reports, at the link below.

#Legal #Jihad #Sharia

[180brg]

Mark 5

Jesus Restores a Demon-Possessed Man

1 They went across the lake to the region of the Gerasenes.[a] 2 When Jesus got out of the boat, a man with an impure spirit came from the tombs to meet him. 3 This man lived in the tombs, and no one could bind him anymore, not even with a chain. 4 For he had often been chained hand and foot, but he tore the chains apart and broke the irons on his feet. No one was strong enough to subdue him. 5 Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.

6 When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and fell on his knees in front of him. 7 He shouted at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God’s name don’t torture me!” 8 For Jesus had said to him, “Come out of this man, you impure spirit!”

9 Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?”

“My name is Legion,” he replied, “for we are many.” 10 And he begged Jesus again and again not to send them out of the area.

11 A large herd of pigs was feeding on the nearby hillside. 12 The demons begged Jesus, “Send us among the pigs; allow us to go into them.” 13 He gave them permission, and the impure spirits came out and went into the pigs. The herd, about two thousand in number, rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.

14 Those tending the pigs ran off and reported this in the town and countryside, and the people went out to see what had happened. 15 When they came to Jesus, they saw the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons, sitting there, dressed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. 16 Those who had seen it told the people what had happened to the demon-possessed man—and told about the pigs as well. 17 Then the people began to plead with Jesus to leave their region.

18 As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. 19 Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” 20 So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis[b] how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.

Jesus Raises a Dead Girl and Heals a Sick Woman

21 When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. 22 Then one of the synagogue leaders, named Jairus, came, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet. 23 He pleaded earnestly with him, “My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.” 24 So Jesus went with him.

A large crowd followed and pressed around him. 25 And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years. 26 She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. 27 When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, 28 because she thought, “If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.” 29 Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering.

30 At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who touched my clothes?”

31 “You see the people crowding against you,” his disciples answered, “and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ ”

32 But Jesus kept looking around to see who had done it. 33 Then the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell at his feet and, trembling with fear, told him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”

35 While Jesus was still speaking, some people came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. “Your daughter is dead,” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?”

36 Overhearing[c] what they said, Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

37 He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James and John the brother of James. 38 When they came to the home of the synagogue leader, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. 39 He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” 40 But they laughed at him.

After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). 42 Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. 43 He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat.

Footnotes:

Mark 5:1 Some manuscripts Gadarenes; other manuscripts Gergesenes

Mark 5:20 That is, the Ten Cities

Mark 5:36 Or Ignoring

#Mark #bible #new testament #Jesus Restores a Demon-Possessed Man #Jesus Raises a Dead Girl and Heals a Sick Woman #healing #exorcism #resurrection #My Name Is Legion

[plumquot-blog]

The Works of Khaled Mattawa, Part 1

HISTORY OF MY FACE

My lips came with a caravan of slaves

That belonged to the Grand Sanussi. In Al-Jaghbub he freed them. They still live in the poor section of Benghazi Near the hospital where I was born.

They never meant to settle In Tokara those Greeks Whose eyebrows I wear --then they smelled the wild sage And declared my country their birthplace.

The Knights of St. John invaded Tripoli. The residents of the city Sought help from Istanbul. In 1531 The Turks brought along my nose.

My hair stretches back To a concubine of Septimus Severus. She made his breakfast, Bore four of his sons.

Uqba took my city In the name of God. We sit by his grave And I sing to you:     Sweet lashes, arrow-sharp,     Is that my face I see     Reflected in your eyes?

                       *

A train whistle and I cling to handlebars as though it were my last chance at birth. In the cabin my thoughts stutter no further than the window, never penetrating the glass. Why did I go see her village? Buffalo carcasses floating on channels and channels suffocating with water hyacinths. Pot bellied grain boats stranded and a boy sleeping on deck, flies swarm his thin face. She lived beside the train tracks. She lived and played and waited for the caboose to shake her home. And the musty smell of the cow stall and the mule, a depository of rage and affection, a whole family of angry kicks, and the boy called to piss on its wound. They waited for the train, for the day to slip like a shovel in the metallic taste of dirt. Weddings and feasts-- oboes and clarinets drift to nearby villages beckoning guests and pariah dogs. And the meals of lentils and rice, the head of a calf hung above the day, a charm, and proof nothing was spared. But who ate its heart and tongue? No one knows.

                       *

We are not in a valley. Cow bells in the afternoon. We are not looking at a river. Fishing boats, miles of nets. We are in a London mall. "Like a mouse in the Pasha's storeroom," she is astounded by the choices, filling bags with dresses and cheap shoes. Her neighbors Her extending tribe. Then she sees the toddler, blue eyes, blonde curls, picks it up, a flurry of kisses and hugs, and God bless and God protect, the father--enraged-- rushing toward her pulling the baby from her embrace-- his face a universal sign of disgust. On the train, her bags at her feet, she is dejected and wants to go home. She turns to me. But I have no pity to give.

                       *

The road a ribbon paralleling the railway, stitches on the desert floor. She rides west now and now is then. Before the cramped resorts. Before the road swelled, shoulders pockmarked by watermelon stalls. And confetti. Millions of black plastic bags. Hollow crows. No, no, I was not the child who wept Let us go back, the one who was laughed at for years. She rides west now in a van, two daughters at her side. They see the train and drive beside it for hours. And for hours the children wave at strangers and strangers wave back at them. After Marsa Matrouh they crane their necks searching for it until someone remembers that at Marsa Matrouh the railway ends.

On her wedding day my sister kissed my cheek and begged me not to grow. It talked to her yesterday on the phone. She said she shows the picture to her children and tells them when I was her slave I ran away aboard a ship to Marseilles. From there I was sent to the court of Ferdinand and Isabella. They gave me to Columbus who traded me for gold to the Indians.

But the Indians had no us for me; they needed neither angels nor slaves. She tells them I live on a street with 22 churches and a synagogue. On Rossville Boulevard I pawned my wings for rent money, and now I man store where poor black women buy their groceries and they pay me with "Sugar," "Darling," "Honey bun."

                       *

Summer, the only time children saw the moon. My father and his friends chat, their white robes, silver flags rippling in the dark.

                       *

In May my mother breaks a twig from our largest fig. She licks the milky sap, the more bitter the taste the sweeter the crop.

                       *

Mosquitoes pop on bedroom walls, white paint freckled with blood.

                       *

Under the grapevine shed my mother roasts ears of corn. Beside her tea water boiling on a charcoal stove. Late afternoon I climb to pick. Clusters. Blue feet, hundreds of toes.

                       *

The gardener stopped drinking coffee. We were alarmed. Serving him tea, we asked about his health. He joined the army one spring. The peppers died, the spinach, parsley, and mint.

                       *

New neighbors moved in. An old couple, seven daughters and a dog. They gave us a puppy, a bitch. We fed her meat from a can. Hungry, she mauled my mother's chicks. Then fled.

                       *

An olive tree bears no fruit the year its owner dies. My grandfather died and a gardener brought a basket. He shook the tree; he shook. Two nests fell with broken blue shells.

http://www.webdelsol.com/mattawa/km-part1.htm

[poem-today]

A poem by Rachel Mannheimer

TEMPELHOF

It’s like the mountains, Chris said about the open field. It was flat like a track— had been a city airport— and when you ran, you could always see how far you had to go. There weren’t many trees and it was late for leaves, but there were birds. The hooded crows were new to me— hooded, I guess, for the black that covered their heads, but it was the gray down their bellies and their backs that was distinct. They hopped around the baseball diamond, near first base. Darkly, I had joked about the barbed wire curling along the top of a nearby wall. But there actually was a camp here. Forced labor for Lufthansa. Eleven were killed in a Pittsburgh synagogue the morning we flew out— the sanctuary where I might have prayed with Zev. (I told him once I hated him. Stayed with him for two more months.) All around Berlin, there was considered signage about history. I stopped under the banner for the home team— Berlin Braves. Stern face with familiar war-paint, feathers. The boys on skateboards held surf-kites and sailed down the former runway, toward the fenced-off section where refugees were housed in modular containers—a “container village” is what I’d heard it called. Or they landed jumps off granite slabs repurposed for the designated skatepark. Beyond the fence, what looked like circus tents. It was warm for November and women my age draped overcoats over their strollers. Everywhere, people whose judgment I trusted were having kids. My oldest sister had two little girls—sometimes slipped and called them by my name. I watched Chris up ahead— now turning, now waiting, jogging in place. I wished Mom could have met him. I held my arms out wide in recognition. We were only in Berlin these two gray months and wouldn’t see the light come back. We were having trouble waking up, but we were trying to run every day, to adjust.

Rachel Mannheimer

More poems by Rachel Mannheimer are available on her website.

#rachel mannheimer #american poetry #tempelhof

[chaletnz]

The Trip Begins in Sofia

An afternoon flight allowed me ample time to prepare for my next European adventure. I took a leisurely breakfast with Alice at the hotel, ran all of my errands and even had time to pick up a chicken sandwich on my way to the airport. Although we waited for 30 minutes in the bus to the aircraft, all was smooth on the flight and I realised that it would only take 2 hours and not 3 because of the hour time difference. We arrived to rolling green hills, small clusters of houses and dry farmland that was probably grateful for less hot weather. The shuttle between terminals drove me around the airport right at sunset and I enjoyed some spectacular views of the air traffic control tower and large letters spelling Sofia in both English and Bulgarian. Inside Terminal 2 I changed 20 euros into local currency Bulgarian lev and then bought 2 tickets for the metro as my hostel had instructed. One for me and one for my bag! It was a much more advanced subway system than I'd anticipated - the scrolling sign inside and the announcements were in both Bulgarian and English (actually better than the Ubahn in Frankfurt which is only in German). After a journey of about 20-30 minutes I arrived at Serdika station which is right in the centre of Sofia and serves as the change station between the two metro lines, I walked upstairs to some deafening club music which was outside a bank of all places and desperately tried to navigate my way to the hostel. I walked down a dark main road and followed the directions to find my way into a little courtyard where I simply followed the sound of people speaking English and felt like I must be in the right place. I was checked in by Antonia who was super helpful and friendly despite my feeling uncomfortable with all of the socializing in large groups happening around me. I was shown to my room and then headed out for a quick Lidl trip to buy some water and a shower gel for the trip. Back in my room I planned out some activities for tomorrow and chatted to an American lady called Wendy who had also just arrived. It was actually a very comfortable bed and dorm room, unfortunately 2 of the roommates came in quite late and woke us up. And in the morning there was a mad scramble to get up and shower in the only shower between 15 people. It definitely made me think back to my leisurely mornings in the hotels! Once the scrambling was over I got ready and went to the free breakfast in the main hall, it was chaos with so many people fighting for cutlery and plates and two young Bulgarian ladies in aprons trying frantically to replenish the food. I took a waffle and grabbed the nearest free seat at a table with some hungover Germans. After my light breakfast I packed my day bag and headed off, first stop was the bank to exchange some cash. I walked down one of the central roads Alabin and found the huge court house with its two lion statues outside. A little bit further down I reached the 2 Giraffes espresso bar for my morning cappuccino. I had just enough time left to quickly find the street art I had spotted last night and then I met the walking tour guide Slavyan and the other participants at the court house. Around the corner opposite the St Nedelya church we began with a short history of Sofia - one of the oldest cities in Europe at around 6000 years old. The church was the site of a terrorist attack in 1925 that killed almost all Bulgarian political and influential leaders except for the king. A funeral was being held in the church whilst stacks of explosives lay below, by his own good fortune the king was running late and that is how he survived. Next we visited Serdica square where the St Sofia Monument stands. Slavyan told us about the "big misunderstanding" relating to this monument which was a millennium gift from the government of Sofia to its citizens. It was presented as a monument to St Sofia after whom the city was supposedly named but historians disagreed and said the city is not named after the Saint. The church was also not pleased at the depiction of a "Saint" with such an open dress. But the monument stayed put and that was that! We followed Slavyan to the Sveta Petka Orthodox Church. It was from the 14th century and nearby some ruins from the 4th century had been excavated, it seems that the Bulgarians loved to build their new buildings on top of old ones. Outside the mosque Slavyan pointed out the synagogue (the 4th largest in Europe) and told us about the Jewish population's interesting history. When Germany approached the Bulgarian border the Bulgarians were forced to ally as they did not have a strong army, however each time the trains came to take Jewish people to concentration camps the citizens worked together to save them. The king himself even stood on the train tracks and said they could only be taken over his dead body. We passed through the hot springs next and were invited to drink some water in hope to improve our cardiovascular system. Across the road we saw an old bath house that had been converted into the Sofia history museum and had beautiful gardens and a fountain laid out in front of the building. We passed by the Communist headquarters building where 700-1000 administrators would have worked but now it functions as an office for the socialist party which is the second or third political party in present day Bulgaria. Slavyan led us underground to the ancient city ruins of Serdica and showed us exactly where the east gate was located and in doing so we ended up taking a convenient underpass to cross the road and emerge outside the presidential office. Luckily we arrived just in time to see the guards marching for the changing of duty and we could all take a photo before Slavyan took a group photo of us. Next we passed through some archways to arrive in a courtyard where the St George church (also known as the rotunda church) is located. It was built in the 4th century and is one of the oldest buildings in the world at 1600 years old. In front of our next landmark; the National Art Gallery, formerly the royal palace, Slavyan directed us around to tell the story of the royal family in a bit of a performance so we understood how Bulgaria had initially "imported" its royal family but eventually ended up with a Bulgarian-born king. As we walked down the yellow brick road Slavyan told us about how the government had bought these expensive yellow bricks to look more European however once it rained for the first time and it was discovered that they were slippery and impractical, the government decided to lie and say the bricks were a gift for the royal wedding so that the citizens wouldn't know that so much money had been spent on the slippery bricks. We walked up to the Hagia Sofia which was the church responsible for the renaming of Sofia from its original name Serdica. And then we had reached our final destination, the one and only Aleksander Nevski Cathedral with its shiny golden domes. The grandest building in Sofia made with only the best materials, including a total of 22 tonnes worth of bells imported from Moscow. The largest and heaviest bell weighs 13 tonnes and it has been said that if you were to ring all of the bells together then the windows in the surrounding buildings would blow out! After the tour I went to take some photos of the cathedral and went inside to see how big it really was. Then I retraced my steps to get photos of everything we had visited on the tour. I felt hungry and luckily stumbled upon a supermarket to buy a milkshake and an oat bar for sustenance. Then I walked up to the central train station stopping only for a short break at the Lion Bridge. I bought my onward ticket to Skopje, Macedonia and luckily I checked the details in the agency because the woman had accidentally given me the morning bus rather than the afternoon one! My last big excursion for the day was a trip out to the NDK where I walked through the Bulgaria Square and into a quiet neighbourhood to find a speciality coffee shop called Dabov to enjoy a flat white. On the way back I watched the skaters for a while, especially the inline skaters as they were waxing all of the steps and getting in everyone's way. On my walk back I found a Bulgarian Apple Bandit cider in a supermarket which of course came back to the hostel with me to drink while writing my blog!

#Bulgaria #Sofia

[dfroza]

“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Mark:

They traveled across the sea to the land of Gerasa in Galilee. When Jesus came ashore there, He was immediately met by a man who was tortured by an evil spirit. This man lived in the cemeteries, and no one could control him—not even those who tried to tie him up or chain him. He had often been bound in chains, but his strength was so great that he could break the chains and tear the irons loose from his feet and hands. No one and nothing could subdue him. Day and night, he lurked among the tombs or ran mad in the hills, and the darkness made him scream or cut himself with sharp-edged stones. When this man saw Jesus coming in the distance, he ran to Him and fell to his knees in front of Him. Jesus started commanding the unclean spirit.

Jesus: Come out of that man, you wicked spirit!

Unclean Spirit (shouting): What’s this all about, Jesus, Son of the Most High? In the name of God, I beg You—don’t torture me!

Jesus: What is your name?

Unclean Spirit: They call me “Legion,” for there are thousands of us in this body.

And then Legion begged Jesus again to leave them alone, not to send them out of the country.

Since the Gerasenes were not Jews (who considered pigs to be unclean), there happened to be a large herd of swine, some 2,000 of them, feeding on the hill nearby.

Unclean Spirit (begging): Send us into those pigs if You have to, so that we may enter into them.

Jesus granted the request. The darkness swept up out of the man and into the herd of pigs. And then they thundered down the hill into the water; and there they drowned, all 2,000 of them.

The swineherds ran away, telling everybody they met what had happened. Eventually a crowd of people came to see for themselves. When they reached Jesus, they found the man Legion had afflicted sitting quietly, sane and fully clothed; when they saw this, they were overwhelmed with fear and wonder.

Those who had witnessed everything told the others what had happened: how Jesus had healed the man, how the pigs had rushed into the sea, and how they had destroyed themselves. When they had heard the whole story, the Gerasenes turned to Jesus and begged Him to go away.

When Jesus climbed back into the boat, the cured demoniac asked if he could come and be with Him, but Jesus said no.

Jesus: Stay here; I want you to go back home to your own people and let them see what the Lord has done—how He has had mercy on you.

So the man went away and began telling this news in the Ten Cities region; wherever he went, people were amazed by what he told them.

After Jesus returned across the sea, a large crowd quickly found Him, so He stayed by the sea. One of the leaders of the synagogue—a man named Jairus—came and fell at Jesus’ feet, begging Him to heal his daughter.

Jairus: My daughter is dying, and she’s only 12 years old. Please come to my house. Just place Your hands on her. I know that if You do, she will live.

Jesus began traveling with Jairus toward his home.

In the crowd pressing around Jesus, there was a woman who had suffered continuous bleeding for 12 years, bleeding that made her ritually unclean and an outcast according to the purity laws. She had suffered greatly; and although she spent all her money on her medical care, she had only gotten worse. She had heard of this Miracle-Man, Jesus, so she snuck up behind Him in the crowd and reached out her hand to touch His cloak.

Woman (to herself): Even if all I touch are His clothes, I know I will be healed.

As soon as her fingers brushed His cloak, the bleeding stopped. She could feel that she was whole again.

Lots of people were pressed against Jesus at that moment, but He immediately felt her touch; He felt healing power flow out of Him.

He stopped. Everyone stopped. He looked around.

Jesus: Who just touched My robe?

His disciples broke the uneasy silence.

Disciples: Jesus, the crowd is so thick that everyone is touching You. Why do You ask, “Who touched Me?”

But Jesus waited. His gaze swept across the crowd to see who had done it. At last, the woman—knowing He was talking about her—pushed forward and dropped to her knees. She was shaking with fear and amazement.

Woman: I touched You.

Then she told Him the reason why. Jesus listened to her story.

Jesus: Daughter, you are well because you dared to believe. Go in peace, and stay well.

While He was speaking, some members of Jairus’s household pushed through the crowd.

Jairus’s Servants (to Jairus): Your daughter is dead. There’s no need to drag the Teacher any farther.

Jesus overheard their words. Then He turned to look at Jairus.

Jesus: It’s all right. Don’t be afraid; just believe.

Jesus asked everyone but Peter, James, and John (James’s brother) to remain outside when they reached Jairus’s home. Inside the synagogue leader’s house, the mourning had already begun; the weeping and wailing carried out into the street.

Jesus and His three disciples went inside.

Jesus: Why are you making all this sorrowful noise? The child isn’t dead. She’s just sleeping.

The mourners laughed a horrible, bitter laugh and went back to their wailing. Jesus cleared the house so that only His three disciples, Jairus, and Jairus’s wife were left inside with Him. They all went to where the child lay. Then He took the child’s hand.

Jesus: Little girl, it’s time to wake up.

Immediately the 12-year-old girl opened her eyes, arose, and began to walk. Her parents could not believe their eyes.

Jesus (to the parents): Don’t tell anybody what you’ve just seen. Why don’t you give her something to eat? I know she is hungry.

The Book of Mark, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 18th chapter of the book of Joshua with the Tabernacle assembled at Shiloh that eventually became the Temple in Jerusalem:

The whole community of Israelites assembled at Shiloh and raised the congregation tent. The region was fully under their control. But there were still seven tribes who had not received their inheritance of land.

Joshua (to the remaining Israelites): How much more time do you intend to waste before going to claim the land the Eternal God of your ancestors is giving to you? Pick three men from every tribe, and I will send them into the land so they can survey the regions in light of your inheritances and bring me back descriptions. They will divide the land into seven sections, between the people of Judah remaining in its territory in the south and the people of Joseph in their places in the north. After you divide the land, return here with the seven descriptions, and I will draw lots so that the Eternal One, our True God, can choose who will inherit what part of it.

Remember that the Levites will not receive a share in this apportioning since their inheritance is the priesthood of the Eternal. The tribes of Gad and Reuben and the half-tribe of Manasseh have already received their inheritance east of the Jordan that Moses, the servant of the Eternal, gave them.

So the chosen men prepared to go, and Joshua repeated his instructions to them.

Joshua: Go into the land and survey it. Keep in mind that we need to divide it into seven sections. When you come back, we will draw lots before the Eternal here in Shiloh to divide the land.

The men went out and passed through the land, marking the cities, dividing it into seven parts and recording their findings on a scroll. Then they returned to Joshua at Shiloh, and Joshua drew lots in Shiloh in the presence of the Eternal to divide the land among the remaining Israelites, each getting a share.

The land assigned by lot to the tribe of the Benjaminites according to their clans was between the people of Judah in the south and the people of Joseph in the north. On the north side their boundary began at the Jordan: then the boundary went up to the northern side of Jericho, climbed westward through the hill country, and ended at the wilderness of Beth-aven. From there, the boundary went southward in the direction of Luz; near Luz (that is, Bethel) it went down to Ataroth-addar, on the mountain to the south of lower Beth-horon. From this point, the western boundary turned southward from the mountain opposite Beth-horon to Kiriath-baal (that is, Kiriath-jearim), a town belonging to the people of Judah. This was the western boundary of their inheritance.

The southern boundary began on the outskirts of Kiriath-jearim and from there went west to the springs of Nephtoah. Then the boundary went along the border of the mountain overlooking the valley of Ben-hinnom, which is at the north end of the valley of Rephaim; and it then went down the valley of Hinnom, south of the slope of the Jebusites, and further to En-rogel. Then it curved in a northerly direction toward En-shemesh and from there went on to Geliloth, which is opposite the ascent of Adummim; then down to the stone of Bohan, Reuben’s son, and passing on to the north of the slope of Arabah, it descended down to the Arabah. The boundary then went north of the slope of Beth-hoglah and ended at the northern bay of the Dead Sea where the Jordan empties into the sea. This was the southern border. On the eastern side, the Jordan formed its boundary.

This, then, was the inheritance of the people of Benjamin, clan by clan, boundary by boundary. And the cities of the tribe of the Benjaminites allocated to the clans were: Jericho, Beth-hoglah, Emek-keziz, Beth-arabah, Zemaraim, Bethel, Avvim, Parah, Ophrah, Chephar-ammoni, Ophni, and Geba—12 cities and their surrounding villages. Also Gibeon, Ramah, Beeroth, Mizpeh, Chephirah, Mozah, Rekem, Irpeel, Taralah, Zela, Haeleph, the Jebusite city (Jerusalem), Gibeah, and Kiriath—14 cities with their surrounding villages. This was the inheritance of the people of Benjamin, clan by clan.

The Book of Joshua, Chapter 18 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, September 6 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that deals with suffering:

How we choose to deal with trouble and suffering (i.e., tzuris) makes all the difference. We may be tempted to bitterness over our lives, but then what? To paraphrase Soren Kierkegaard, the way of life is "how" more than it is "what." You may be powerless to control reality, but you are nevertheless responsible for how you respond to it. Check your attitude. Do you chose to live in lament over a healing that has not yet happened, or perhaps to regard yourself as a hapless victim? Or will you attempt to justify your suffering as a means of personal atonement, accepting it passively as a "good child" or martyr? Does your suffering stretch your heart, or does it cause you to shrink back in fear or self-pity?

In this connection, recall that when the Jews came to Marah, they “could not drink the water because it was bitter” (Exod. 15:23). The Hebrew, however, could be read, “they could not drink the water because they (i.e., the people) were bitter (כִּי מָרִים הֵם). The problem is often not “out there” but within the heart (Matt. 15:19-20). How we choose to see, in other words, says more about us than it does the external world. If you make the mistake of reading the daily news and taking it seriously, you will see only ugliness, and you run the risk of becoming hardhearted. Worldly despair eclipses apprehension of the Presence of God....

The Apostle Paul was afflicted with ongoing suffering in his life, despite being a faithful follower of Yeshua. God gave him a “thorn in the flesh” to help him persevere in humility. When Paul prayed three times for the affliction to depart from him, the LORD told him: "My grace is sufficient for you (דַּי לְךָ חַסְדִּי), for My strength is made perfect in weakness (כִּי בַּחֻלְשָׁה תֻּשְׁלַם גְּבוּרָתִי)." The persistence of Paul’s struggle proved to be a blessing to him as it caused him to rely all the more on God’s strength: “I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Cor. 12:9).

Yeshua taught us to pray to the Father: “Let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” which is an appeal for us to find acceptance (or peace) by surrendering or “aligning” our will with God’s will. Of course this is not always easy to do, and some situations are perplexing: “God, why must I go through this suffering?” Sometimes it feels as if our prayers are unanswered or disregarded: “How long, O Lord, will you forget me forever?” Other times we feel overwhelmed: “I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears” (Psalm 6:6). “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, so that he was born blind?” Yeshua answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be revealed in him” (John 9:2-3). This word of our Lord provides solace to our hearts: The trouble we face, inexplicable and painful though it may be, is intended to ultimately reveal the power of God’s love to us...

We must learn to use ayin tovah, "a good eye," whenever we encounter the inevitable (and ubiquitous) adversities of life. Instead of seeing ourselves as victims of undeserved trouble, we must learn to accept adversity in the light of faith that teaches us lessons about finding endurance, resilience and hope. Faith affirms that adversity has an end that is ultimately good. Faith will not bow the knee to dark visions and live in dread of worldly fate.

It's been said, "hurt people hurt people," which means that if healing is not found for our woundedness, our pain will likely “leak out” as depression and hostility toward others... Finding inner peace is therefore crucial lest we become poisoned through a "root of bitterness" that defiles many (Heb. 12:15). The worst sort of prison is the one we make for ourselves, by choosing to be taken captive by fear and anger. May the Lord show us mercy and help us grow in grace and in the knowledge of his heart in all things. Amen. [Hebrew for Christians]

9.5.22 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

September 6, 2022

The Father Testifies of the Son

“Father, glorify thy name. Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.” (John 12:28)

This is the last of three remarkable occasions during the earthly ministry of Christ when God the Father spoke directly from heaven concerning His only begotten Son. The first was at His baptism. “And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17; also Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). This thrice-recorded testimony was given primarily to the forerunner, John the Baptist, who said, “And I knew him not: but he that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remaining on him, the same is he which baptizeth with the Holy Ghost” (John 1:33).

The second was to three chosen disciples at the transfiguration. “Behold a voice out of the cloud, which said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him” (Matthew 17:5). Years later Peter recalled, “This voice which came from heaven we heard, when we were with him in the holy mount” (2 Peter 1:18).

Finally, the Father spoke in the words of our text for the day in direct response to the prayer of His Son at the beginning of the final week before His crucifixion. The message was to His Son but for the people. Jesus said, “This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes” (John 12:30) as He spoke of His imminent death on the cross.

When God spoke from heaven, the message was to assure and encourage His own dear ones: John, the disciples, and Jesus Himself. But it has also become an exhortation to all people for all time. Jesus Christ is God’s Son, and God is glorified in Him. Hear Him! HMM

[omgfbj]

Rev Kevin Nelson greets members at FBJ in the aftermath of the Jeffersontown Hate-Crime Shootings.  (William DeShazer for The Washington Post)

“IN KENTUCKY, SHOOTINGS LEAVE A BLACK CHURCH AND THE WHITE COMMUNITY AROUND IT SHAKEN”

 - DeNeen L Brown, The Washington Post, November 11, 2018

- https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/we-are-armed-now-in-kentucky-an-alleged-hate-crime-shakes-a-black-church-and-a-white-community/2018/11/11/baef5126-e239-11e8-b759-3d88a5ce9e19_story.html?utm_term=.20be25477b2e

JEFFERSONTOWN, Ky. — He came here first, to the front door of this historically black church 15 miles east of Louisville.

A white man tried to enter the First Baptist Church of Jeffersontown on a fall afternoon, not long after its Wednesday noonday Bible study had ended.

Surveillance video showed the man — later identified by police as Gregory Alan Bush — banging on the doors, which have been kept locked ever since a white supremacist killed nine black people at a church in Charleston, S.C., in 2015.

First Baptist administrator Billy Williams still shudders to think what might have happened if he had heard Bush, 51, knocking. “I would have welcomed him in,” Williams said.

Instead, Bush, who had a black ex-wife and a history of domestic violence, left the church and drove to a nearby Kroger supermarket, where police say he gunned down two African-American shoppers.

The Oct. 24 Kroger shooting was quickly overshadowed by the discovery of pipe bombs mailed to more than a dozen critics of President Trump and a rampage at a Pittsburgh synagogue that left 11 people dead. But the burst of racial violence in Jeffersontown has left this church and the predominantly white community around it deeply shaken.

That dread was still palpable on a November Sunday, as more than 200 church members arrived for the 11 a.m. service. A security guard waited outside, atop the steps to the brick church, which was founded 185 years ago by free blacks and freed slaves.

Inside, light streamed through the stained-glass windows as worshipers held hands and prayed. “Please don’t let the spirit of fear dominate our lives, but have a spirit of love that conquers fear,” the minister intoned.

Ushers smiled and greeted visitors. The choir sang. The minister preached. But there was one chilling difference about this Sunday service.

Before the Kroger shooting, which is being investigated by the FBI as a possible hate crime, church officials had been opposed to any of their 1,600 members bringing firearms into the sanctuary. But after it, Williams sought permission from First Baptist’s pastor, the Rev. Kevin L. Nelson, to ask members who work in law enforcement or have permits to carry weapons to bring their guns inside the church during services and Bible study.

“They used to leave them in the car,” Williams said. “No longer are they leaving them in the car.

“We are armed now.”

'It was so deliberate'

On the day of the shooting, Maurice Stallard was in the school supplies aisle with his 12-year-old grandson when Bush entered the Kroger at 2:46 p.m., according to Jeffersontown police.

He walked past dozens of white shoppers in the 50-aisle supermarket, police said, before he spotted Stallard kneeling in the rear of the store.

Stallard, a 69-year-old retiree, was shot in the back of the head as his horrified grandson watched. The boy was able to escape into the parking lot.

Pam King, who is white, was two aisles away buying Halloween candy when she heard the gunfire. She had no idea that it was Stallard, her longtime neighbor, being targeted.

“I couldn’t believe I was hearing gunshots because I was in a grocery store,” said King, who lives down the street from Stallard. “I was expecting the store to make an announcement to disregard the noise.”

Then she heard three more shots. “It was so deliberate,” she said. “It wasn’t bang, bang, bang. He stood there and looked at that man and shot him three more times with his grandson standing there.”

Police said Bush holstered his semiautomatic handgun and walked out of the store, where he fatally shot Vickie Lee Jones, a 67-year-old black woman, in the back of the head.

Bush walked by more white customers in the parking lot — allegedly telling one, “Whites don’t shoot whites” — before allegedly shooting at a black couple. Dominic Rozier and his wife, Kiera Rozier, had just arrived at the store to buy cupcakes for their son’s birthday.

Dominic Rozier, who police said has a permit to carry a concealed weapon, drew his gun and shot back at Bush.

The two exchanged gunfire in the parking lot, with bullets shattering car windows, before Bush fled in his car, police said. Neither Bush nor Rozier was injured in the shootout. Minutes later, Bush was stopped by police and arrested on a street adjacent to the shopping center.

Inside the store, King ran to a stockroom and called her husband, who works as a meat cutter at a different Kroger and happened to be off that day. “Her voice cracked,” Tim King, 59, recalled. “She said, ‘There is somebody shooting up here.’ ” 

He raced to the store. It took hours for his wife and the other customers inside to file out, as police checked to see what each had witnessed.

“The lady was laying in the parking lot the whole time,” Tim King said. “It was so long you could see the blood soaking through the sheet.”

'No Guns!'

On Nov. 2, relatives of Stallard and Jones gathered in the back of a Jefferson County Circuit courtroom, where Bush was being arraigned.

He had been indicted by a grand jury on two counts of murder, one count of criminal attempt to murder and two counts of wanton endangerment in the first degree. Prosecutors said Kentucky could not charge Bush with a hate crime because the state’s limited statute does not apply to murder. But the FBI may bring federal hate crime charges against Bush.

FBI data shows hate crimes are on the rise. In 2016, there were 6,121 crimes motivated by bias against race, religion, sexual orientation, disability or gender — the highest number since 2012. 

When Bush walked into the courtroom in an orange jumpsuit, with his hands and feet shackled, a man seated in the back stood up and yelled, “You piece of [expletive].”

In a hearing that took fewer than three minutes, Bush did not speak. His public defender, Andrew H. daMota, entered Bush’s plea of not guilty. The judge accepted the plea and continued Bush’s $5 million bond. Then Bush walked out of the courtroom surrounded by guards.

According to court records, Bush has a history of domestic violence against his parents, his brother and his ex-wife, who is African American.

Sheryl Bush married Gregory Bush in 1997, according to court records. They had a son in 1998, before separating in 1999. According to divorce records, Gregory Bush attempted suicide in 2000 while his 2-year-old son slept in a bed in the next room.

In 2001, Sheryl Bush filed a domestic violence petition, telling a court that when she went to pick up her son from Bush’s home, he threatened her and called her the n-word.

In 2009, Gregory Bush’s father, William Bush, filed a restraining order against his son, telling a court that Gregory Bush “put his hands around my wife’s neck and picked her up by her neck and put her down.”

The court ordered Bush to comply with mental health treatment and prohibited him from possessing a weapon. A judge wrote on the order, “No Guns!”

'Vickie's last song'

Mourners wearing pink and white walked earlier this month into the Church of the Living God Temple #45, where a sign outside declared: “Rest in Peace Vickie Jones. Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.”

A police car sat guarding the intersection.

Inside, bouquets of white and pink carnations decorated the casket, where Jones lay. The words “Trust in the Lord” were pinned inside the casket — as well as a pink ribbon, signifying that she was a breast cancer survivor.

Jones, who was born in Louisville in 1951 and grew up amid segregation and the civil rights movement, had one daughter and two sons and 12 grandchildren. Her husband, George Lee, to whom she was married for 36 years, died in 2010.

Jones, who was a member of the Church of the Living God all her life, was one of the sponsors of the church’s annual breast cancer awareness program.

“Vickie loved everybody. She touched everybody in a positive way. She loved her family. She loved the Lord. She loved the church,” the Rev. A. Keith Smith told mourners.

In a sermon titled “Vickie’s last song,” Smith told the congregation that hate had “struck the city of Louisville, Kentucky, in a major way — Louisville, Kentucky, home of the Kentucky Derby and the home of Muhammad Ali.”

Amid a chorus of “Amens,” Smith continued: “This is not the 1940s, this is not the 1950s, this is not the 1960s, this is not the Jim Crow law days. These are the days where people of all races, all nationalities, all religions stand up together. We will not tolerate hate crimes anywhere.”

'Our neighbor, our friend'

In the integrated Louisville neighborhood where Stallard lived, the streets are lined with orange ribbons tied to mailboxes with notes that read: “We will miss you Maurice, our neighbor, our friend.”

Stallard used to stand in his driveway and greet neighbors — black and white.

“When we moved in 20 years ago, Maurice and Charlotte were one of the first families in the subdivision,” said the Rev. Charlie Davis, pastor of Hunsinger Lane Baptist Church. Stallard’s wife, Charlotte, “was our kids’ school counselor,” said Mendy Davis, who is married to the pastor.

Stallard retired from General Electric more than a decade ago. “He cared about his family, all his kids, and grand kids, and nieces and nephews,” Charlie Davis said. One nephew played basketball at Morehead State, a two-hour drive from Louisville.

Stallard “was at every game,” Davis said.

Pam King sat at her kitchen table last week, still horrified that she had heard her neighbor being gunned down — the beginning of a week of hate-fueled violence.

“I don’t recall anything like it in my lifetime: The [pipe] bombs. The Jewish center,” King said. “It was a 1-2-3 punch.”

Stallard and Jones, she said, “were killed because they were black. Someone goes to the grocery, and a family is planning a funeral because of the color of his skin.”

#Hate Crime #Rev Kevin Nelson #Billy Williams #Vickie Lee Jones #Maurice E Stallard