Saturday, January 2, 2016

The First Saint Timothy and I

The very First Saint Timothy knew the Virgin Mary and before he was chased through the streets somewhere in what's now called Turkey by ancient worshippers of the Leopard and stoned to death for being a really irritating person around Bacchus type excesses in the area of the alcoholic beverage, chewing on roasted haunches of goat and other sins of the flesh he penned the very first version of the Hail Mary. Back then of course, the Church was a great deal more pure in Spirit, martyrdom granted a guarantee of Eternal Bliss. And there have been times when your own correspondent has asked himself whether Eternal Bliss might become just a little bit dull after maybe a year or two and consequently he has pictured heaven as a kind of Amusement Arcade where Bliss is a mathematical conviction on the slope of life which means the pews of heaven are filled with the wholly irrational. 

 While it's true that I recognize myself in the First Saint Timothy, his purity, his sense of mission, his preoccupation with the obscure, and I'm quite certain that his knowledge of the Virgin Mary was an entirely healthy one, I have nonetheless always been a little suspicious of him. Considered him prone to obsessing on a nostalgia for the Glory Days when the Carpenter or the Fisherman walked the earth and its waters performing the odd miracle, pontificating on this and that, and the First Saint Timothy kind of stuck in the role of linesman to one of  God's very own Opening Batsmen. Well there's good news for 2016 with respect to the First Saint Timothy there's no remnant of a Doubting Thomas in your correspondent. It's entirely possible he wasn't in the least weird. He was absolutely correct. For him it was the shores of Galilee, for me it's a table in the Guest Room. And for those interested I'll be preaching the word in Grocery Store car parking area which means that any day now I could well be chased toward my own place on a heavenly pew.

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