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T Comes for a Visit
One sign that you’re growing older is when a young lady comes to visit you with her boyfriend — just the two of them. No parents.

And you recall that the first time you met the young lady, she was a toddler climbing about on your living room furniture, acting completely and joyously wild.

The Boy loves such visits because he gets an audience for his performances.
No One Is Surprised

Surely no one is surprised today to see the Catholic church yet again shown to be the exact opposite of everything it claims to be. Over 200,000 victims of sexual abuse in the French Catholic church and the "Eric de Moulins-Beaufort, the head of France's Conference of Bishops, said Tuesday that the scale of abuse outlined in the report was 'more than we ever could have imagined,' and asked forgiveness to 'those who were victims of such acts'" (CNN) Asked forgiveness? How could this asshole have not known it was going on? How are we to believe that the upper echelons of the church wouldn't know about this? Hell, the Boston Globe broke the story of Cardinal Law and the widespread sexual abuse in the Boston diocese almost twenty years ago. That was huge and it should have been the spark that engulfs all these pedophiles and assholes who cover them up, but every few years, it happens again. Next we'll hear about Italy. Then Spain. Then Poland. And it should all be common knowledge now. These jerks should have all been behind bars for a decade now.
The film Spotlight detailing the Boston crime is six years old, and it ends with these words:










The scandalous crimes have been surfacing now literally for decades and they're still not all out in the open.
There is only one way the church can regain any moral credibility: each and every priest, monk, nun, and non-religious employee must be fully and completely investigated at the cost of the individual diocese. The church must make the results of the investigations that turn up anything public and turn them over to the police. It will bankrupt many dioceses, but that is the price they must pay for the coverup that apparently has been going on for centuries and is continuing.
And if the people in the pews had any sense of -- I don't even know what -- they would refuse to donate any money until that is done.
Zip Line
Two Days in a Row
It’s gradually cooling off, which means we might be spending more time around our fire pit.

We cooked dinner over it two nights in a row now, and I’m already thinking about what to cook next weekend.

Saturday Night
Friday Evening, Early Autumn


Reading
I knew taking the picture might break the spell: an at-risk student who, of her own accord without any prompting or suggestion, chose to read a book during free time after lunch might not be thrilled about having her picture taken. But on the other hand, it’s a picture of success, and when it’s a kid you’ve already grown to love in a way, a kid you’re already pulling your hair out over and cheering on and fussing at with a smile — you go ahead and take that chance.

Sure enough — “Mr. S! Don’t!” And the spell was broken. But unlike many magical moments, this one has evidence to back it.
PKO Rotunda
I was looking at the photographs of British/Polish photographer Chris Niedenthal when I saw an image of PKO Rotunda in Warsaw. Suddenly, I was back in Poland in 1996, experiencing the country for the first time, with a vivid memory of the first time I saw the building.

A friend took several of us to see Warsaw for the first time, and as we walked out of Warszawa Centralna and long Jerusalem Avenue, the impressively Stalinist Palace of Culture and Science on our left, we approached a most peculiar building.
"That's where we're headed," said A as we descended the stairs to pass under Marszałkowska. We weren't headed to the round bank building itself, though. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I never even entered the building.

It was, in fact, the building just behind the PKO Rotunda that interested us: "There's a Taco Bell there," our guide explained. "It's okay if you like cabbage on your tacos instead of lettuce."
It was one of the signs of the growing Westernization of Poland that, in 1996, was still relatively new. We were all interested in the Taco Bell for that reason: not because we were necessarily craving substandard "Mexican" fast food but because we wanted to see what Polish Taco Bell looked like, tasted like -- to get the local spin on one of the restaurants that provided us with cheap eats during college. With everything so new and unknown, it was fascinating to see things I'd always known in that setting.
Recently, developers demolished the original building and replaced it with a nearly-identical building.

The same spirit, but a different building.
So many of those old, communist-era buildings have been demolished or so completely remodeled as to be unrecognizable in the last twenty years. It's understandable, I guess: only from a sentimental point of view are those buildings of any aesthetic value at all, and for many, there's no question of sentimentality about the oppressive past they represent. For me, the sentimentality arises strictly from the novelty of such buildings when I first lived in Poland twenty-five years ago.
The Last Great Day
They woke up this morning with a sense of excitement and dread, thrilled with their sense of foreboding and relief. Today, Jesus was returning. No one knew the hour, that is certain, but it would certainly happen today.
Unless it didn’t. It wasn’t the first time their leader had predicted Jesus’s return. It wasn’t even the second time he’d foretold the day. It wasn’t the third or fourth time. Many members of the group had lost track of how many times their leader had made this exact prediction with the same fervent confidence. Just a year before, their leader had suggested that during this same fall festival Jesus would return.
“You won’t be returning to your houses!” He’d confidently assured everyone. He’d suggested that members might be talking to the resurrected Abraham — the Abraham of the Bible — within days. Even the original leader of their group, Herbert Armstrong, would have risen from the dead within that week and members would be able to “ask him yourselves” about various prophetic timing he seemed to get a little wrong.
So when they wake this morning and recalled their leader’s words from earlier in the week-long festival they were celebrating when he’d assured them Jesus would come back by Tuesday, they were hopeful that he might finally be right and worried that once again the prescribed day would come and go just like every other day before it.
Why do these people, members of the Restored Church of God under the autocratic leadership of Dave Pack, stick around and continue to support Pack’s delusions? The man sees himself as the most hated man on Earth. He has said about his importance in coming events that, from the perspective of the powers of evil seeking to wreck God’s plan, “I must be stopped at all costs!” Why do they continue to support him when year after year he has made the same false prophecy about the return of Jesus? It’s simple: the sunken cost fallacy. They’ve invested so much time and money into the prospect already that they cannot bring themselves to cut free. After all, there’s still the hope that he is God’s only apostle and his exclusive spokesman on Earth. If they leave now and then Jesus returns, they’ve forfeited their crown, literally: they believe they will become gods, part of the so-called “God family” that Pack and other heretics teach is the explanation of the passage in Genesis, “Let US make man in OUR image.” Abandoning the plan now means giving up god-hood if Pack ever does get it right. And since they thought for so long that eventually, he would get it right, they can’t bring themselves to admit that while he might be wrong now, he might eventually be right.
And yet they’ve heard it all before. They likely view their doubts as temptations of the devil, an attempt to get them to give up their crown -- the ultimate victory for the devil.
In the midst of all this, I look at this little group that splintered away from the group I grew up in -- I used to believe many of the absurd things the Restored Church of God teaches -- and think about those members who are watching these last hours of the promised day slip away, and I feel for them.
















