Dear and beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, and my beloved readers, this is a difficult time for us all, with the virus raging everywhere. I send my blessing and hope for healing and that this scourge will soon pass. It is not the apocalypse nor is it from God. Nothing evil ever comes from his hand for he is all goodness and love. He’d hardly die for us and then casually wipe us out. The actual apocalypse will be the final triumph of good and of his Christ not a punishment. That’s why we look forward to it when the plan of God will be complete and Christ will hand over the Kingdom to God the Father forever, and the faithful saints will go “marching in” as the hymn says.
I include a poem below that I wrote about the virus, because of course there’s also a warning in this scourge, to bear the fruits of faith, so that we can shape a better world in every way. Already it has brought forth some good fruits, God always brings good even out of evil; one such fruit is the human solidarity this virus has caused. But the poem is ultimately, as the faith always is, one of hope and the second coming of Christ in glory to gather all his faithful into the eternal kingdom. Evil such as the virus and death, indeed all evil will be defeated then forever by the love and grace of God which is always more powerful than any evil force such as the virus in the world.
So read on dear readers and take heart:
Surviving the Virus, Poetic Reflections on Covid 19
(The recent Maya Apocalypse predicted that we are leaving a secular era,
And we are about to enter a new more spiritual era of the human race)
It’s 12 noon, of the 2nd month of this awful virus,
I count my woes, (waking from a lockdown snooze),
And question my future sanity or even my survival.
Can we overcome a total lockdown of our liberties,
Isolation, loneliness, maybe cabin-fever psychosis?
I turn on the news, a report on the airwaves bristles
With statistics about elderly, or infirm, who’ve died
In hospitals, care homes or cocooned in lone houses.
Like many fearing virus doom behind drawn curtains
I’m tempted to question, is this really the apocalypse?
Is my fate to be in a box among many nameless coffins?
Unblessed in a sad and forever broken world? For since
It may come again and again in winter, is hope useless?
The phone shrills, it’s my brother: “How are you doing?”
“I’m still alive”, I reply. I tell him how last Christmas
I backed a horse, “Still Alive”; he won, at twenty to one.
Its six o’clock, shocked, I realise with the virus abroad,
No one is winning. Scores just go on sinning and dying,
And ending up as a mere statistic on the six o’clock news.
Is it the end times? Or a pathogen by evil chance let loose
From a Chinese lab? One thing is sure, it’s not from God!
It’s of Adam fall, that originally brought death and disease,
But it’s Satan’s idea to be completed in man’s total demise.
He plans to let us do that by our hands, as we let go God’s
I wish I could sleep and in dreams escape this cocoon
And open my wings in a gorgeous warm spring noon,
And fly like a butterfly above this long hard lockdown.
In this mood I tell my neighbour, “raise your head high!
God is good, don’t live in fear, ‘twill be over by the fall.
And will do well if it’s brought us back to what matters,
Faith, care of others and of an emerald isle environment.
For this isn’t final underworld exile due to sin, it’s a plan
Of Satan’s, from which Grace and science can rescue us.
Then I hear on the radio that in 2036 a large asteroid,
Missing us lately, could in its trajectory curve, return
To hit, causing in sun-obscuring dust an eternal winter,
This would be man’s end. Is humanity written off then
As a failed species in the earth’s evolutionary process?
Past our sell-by date will we share the dinosaur’s fate?
No! I reject that! Since God gave his life for humanity
To blot it out would be senseless and also contradictory.
Dying for love of us, could he then casually wipe us out?
No! Christ, by his death defeated death forever. So God
And science will return the virus to hell, whence it came.
But was it a blessing in disguise, causing fresh believing
As the Maya apocalypse foretold? Will it spur a renewal
Of our spiritual heritage reversing 20th century apostasy?
At dawn suddenly a rider of the apocalypse appeared to me,
An awesome effigy, a ghastly skeleton form. And on his face
Was a mask of death, on it was inscribed the words, Covid 19.
And his voice was like a tsunami, sweeping the world away,
Sweeping the world clean of iniquity, and his eyes were like
Vast Angry skies. And his hands were fiery burning brands,
Turning all lands to black smouldering ruins. And his teeth
Tore at the door between life and death, and his breath was
Like a dragon’s fire. I heard a voice say, “this is the zenith
Of your cruel ways, the sum of all your fears”. And echoing
From the abyss between heaven and hell, came a death knell,
Tolling over cold swelling seas. Then I saw in the distance,
Coming like a soft breeze, the crucified Christ, holding back
The beast and turning his death to life with his pierced hands.
And wiping away the grey terror with his tears. And he took
The rider and cast him into the abyss, and washed the world
With his sacred blood, from the heart of his everlasting love.
And his name was like a healing balm, sweeping over golden
Fields of corn. And a voice said to me “here ends all infidelity,
And here begins a reign of the blessed from an everlasting sea,
When new saints and angels will occupy the thrones of eternity.
Then men’s and women’s tears will cease, all their tomorrows
Will be graced with God’s tender ways as the beast’s vile body
Is burned to ash, overthrown like Sodom and Gomorrah at last.
Then heaven’s golden doors opened, 4 angels of dazzling light
Came and said, “So ends man’s godless night, now duly begins
A day of the saved about to be proclaimed, the grave of all evil
Unbelief, and the filling of man’s empty soul, until he is remade
Whole, for the treasure of man’s holiness is forever the measure
Of his humane wholeness. Then I saw Mother Mary coming fair
On a cloud of care, wearing a pale blue robe with a gold girdle,
And her hands held the tenderness of lovely heavenly lands and
She took me in her soft healing arms, and my darker inner lands
Dissolved in her clear light, and around her seven angels hovered
On golden wings, and she said to me in the sweetest softest tones:
“My message to you is prayer and peace, that the waiting world’s
Tears might cease forever, and the earth might at last be restored,
After the downfall of the beast, to the ageless all-enfolding grace
Of the lamb, my own beloved son”. And lo, after the hellish cold,
The waste world became a green fold and field of nature’s plenty.
Where summer flowers abounded, fine protected animals played,
And birds sang as on that first holy day, before the awful apostasy.
Now the graceful ways of the Lord are restored, and all new forms
Of peace are released from the vast valley of the forever redeemed,
And beauty, as of the greatest art, will once more become the norm.
And I saw a golden door open in heaven and a vast shower of roses
Fell and filled the glorious world with sweet healing scent even unto
The gate of hell and God said: “Fear not, in my Son all will be well”.