Canadians (and people around the globe):
Why were you coerced and mandated to take shots that cause severe adverse events at more than five times the rate warranting a ‘vaccine’ program to be halted ?!?
Why did you comply is the better question? Why conformity? Were you afraid your job would end? Concerned dining and theater and bowling would be forbidden? No thought arising that you were gaslighted? No concern that precedent was set?
For Leon Bloy whom I sit in conversation with in the Other Cafe on a very dark wet day reminiscent of Golgotha the bourgeois may be pious, he may even be just, but it was said, “Unless your justice abound more than that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” The bourgeois’s justice never exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees, he loves to give alms “in synagogues and in the streets” so as to be “honoured by men,” to “stand and pray in the synagogues and corners of the streets,” to be “seen by men”; he loves to judge, and is the first to cast a stone at the sinner.
I nodded that this I grasped well enough.
He goes on to say a priest wrote a friendly letter to him that included the line, “I do not have the soul of a saint.” The priest undoubtedly meant this as humility, , but Bloy corrected him, and reminded him that “There is a deceptive form of humility that resembles ingratitude.” Authentic humility recognizes the startling reality that we each do have the souls of Saints.
As he left to walk home in between the hurling rain he smiled at me and said he wrote the priest in return: “Well, then I answer you with certainty that I have the soul of a saint; that my fearful bourgeois of a landlord, my baker, my butcher, my grocer, all of whom may be horrible scoundrels, have the souls of saints, having all been called, as fully as you and I, as fully as Saint Francis or Saint Paul, to eternal Life, and having all been bought at the same price: You have been bought at a great price. There is no man who is not potentially a saint, and sin or sins, even the blackest, are but accident that in no way alters the substance.
This, I think, is the true point of view. When I go to the café to read petty or stupid newspapers, I look at the customers around me, I see their silly joy, I hear their foolish nonsense or their blasphemies, and I reflect that there I am, among immortal souls unaware of what they are, souls made to adore eternally the Holy Trinity, souls precious as angelic spirits; and sometimes I weep, not out of compassion, but out of love at the thought that all these souls, whatever may be their present blindness and whatever the apparent acts of their bodies, will all the same go invincibly to God who is their necessary end.
All of us, by the grace of God, are capable of being Saints, and if we fall in this endeavor, it is not because we were created with an inferior kind of soul.”
https://ko-fi.com/thejournaloflingeringsanity
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