Sunday Theological Poetry.

The temptations we face are driven by a need to push everything to destruction, and it seems that this is getting more intense. Charlton calls this Sothratic evil, and Wilder has a good tutorial on this up. Because this is what happens when virtue signalling curdles.

But it is from the pit. Milton new that evil always aligns with evil — it is those with free will who fight. While they can.

O shame to men! Devil with Devil damn’d
Firm concord holds, men onely disagree
Of Creatures rational, though under hope
Of heavenly Grace: and God proclaiming peace,
Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife
Among themselves, and levie cruel warres,
Wasting the Earth, each other to destroy:
As if (which might induce us to accord)
Man had not hellish foes anow besides,
That day and night for his destruction waite.

John Milton, Paradise Lost Book 2.

Which is why we are told to hate Christ, hate the west, and hate ourselves. Remember the tenet of this time is that we should all embrace our self destruction. It has merely taken propaganda throughout my life to make most people thing that the church and Christ are evil.

Demoralization involves undermining a nation’s confidence and faith in its own moral fibre. Among the Woke, this has been achieved totally: they fervently believe everything about the West has always been broken and are prepared to use violence to upend it all and set it right.

Westerners, they believe, are inherently evil. Our entire history is one of colonization, slavery and every other type of evil. All our inventions are stolen, our customs hurt others, our economy is destructive and our institutions maintain and expand systems of oppression.

You can’t get any more demoralized than that.

Nikolai Vladivostok.

The correct here is worship. Seriously. It is to not seek the joys that the woke despise, but mightier joys. To look beyond the beautiful and true to him who inspired this.

An aside: Bower here means dwelling, cottage.

The Temper.

It cannot be. Where is that mightie joy,
Which just now took up all my heart?
Lord, if thou must needs use thy dart,
Save that, and me; or sin for both destroy.

The grosser world stands to thy word and art;
But thy diviner world of grace
Thou suddenly dost raise and race,
And ev’ry day a new Creatour art.

O fix thy chair of grace, that all my powers
May also fix their reverence:
For when thou dost depart from hence,
They grow unruly, and sit in thy bowers.

Scatter, or binde them all to bend to thee:
Though elements change, and heaven move,
Let not thy higher Court remove,
But keep a standing Majestie in me.

The Temple. George Herbert.

Do not look to the passions of this age. The time is dark. Be thankful for the remaining light, and stand.