Request for Prayer

 Hello everyone,

I'm writing to request prayers for divine protection. As some of you regular readers might be aware of, every October for the past few years I go on retreat in New York state at a hermitage in the woods for time to pray, read the scriptures, attend Mass with the Friars, experience silence, and digitally detox. Of course any normal person would drive the four hours one way, but this year I wanted to make a two wheel pilgrimage on my electric bike. 

The journey will take me over 500 miles round trip, and I plan to ride up in three days, and back in three days, making stops to sleep at the houses of friends and friends-of-friends in Allentown and Scranton. I plan to ride from sun up to sun down each day, stopping to charge my battery at coffee shops, diners, etc. Once I arrive (God willing), I will be at the hermitage for two days, and then make the trek back home. 

I will try to post little travelogue blog posts from my phone at the end of each day (of the ride, not while on retreat), as it might be fun to do. I'd just ask your prayers for my guardian angel to protect me on the roads and that I don't experience any mechanical failures, ensure a safe arrival. and watch over my family while I am gone. The weather is looking gorgeous so far from the predicted forecast (high 70s, low 50s), so that's a real blessing. One of the nice things about being prepared to die at any moment is you don't live in fear of death.

I probably won't write any new blog posts until then for the next week and a half, as I have some things to get done around the house before I leave. 

Thanks in advance for your spiritual generosity. 

What Cast Iron Cookware Can Teach Us About Faith And Life

A couple years ago I wrote a post on why we use cast iron to cook with. This was kind of a strange post for this blog, given the home-maker nature of the topic (I also wrote one about linen towels). But I'm going to double down and extol the virtues of this time-tested cookware once again, but scratch a little deeper beneath the surface of the kitchen into the foundation of the house. 

First things first--I'm the primary cook in our home. I hate cleaning (which my wife doesn't mind, thank goodness because I make a mess of things), but I don't mind making meals, so it's just where the chips fell in our marriage. Being that this is my primary domain for the majority of meals, I get to choose what I want to use. And I've used everything in terms of cookware--stainless steel, aluminum, Teflon. I don't know how I got turned on to trying out cast iron (it may have been when I purchased a stand-alone induction burner), but I'm glad I did because I've grown to love it.

The thing about tradition and traditional things is they are time-tested. They're not always flashy or sexy or nuevo, but they get the job done. Sometimes there are better ways of doing things which technology can benefit--I like having fuel injectors in my car rather than carburetors; I appreciate laptops versus desktops or typewriters. But let's be honest here--the time of craftsmanship has gone away. If you've ever watched new construction homes being built, they are slapped up with pine 2x4's and OSB, clad in cheap vinyl, with no thought to anything but maximizing profit and minimizing cost. Homes over one hundred years old were built much more solid. Churches, no contest. And, yes, planned obsolescence is a real thing. So, I'm not a curmudgeon, but I think there's something to be said for the lost-arts when people built things to last and took pride in their craft.

I think cast-iron falls into this category, which is why I considered it "Trad-approved." But there are some parallels to traditional cookware and a traditional faith and life. I'm not interested in virtue signaling or needing to trad-flex for Instagram. I'm tend to be pretty pragmatic when it comes to these things. Does a more traditional faith or Mass help to ensure the transmission of our religion to our children? Then count me in. Does it foster reverence, piety, a fear of God? That works for me. 

But enough with the philosophizing. Let's get down to the nitty-gritty with the random topic at hand: what cast iron cookware can teach us about faith and life.

Built on rock, not sand

In scripture, our Lord says the one who hears Christ's words and heeds them is like a man who built his house on rock, rather than sand (Mt 7:24-27; cf Lk 6:48)). He names Cephas Peter, "Rock." David refers to the Lord as his "rock, his deliver" (Ps 18:31). Rocks are solid, unbreakable, built to last. 

You can beat the hell out of cast iron and it can take the abuse. Heck, you can beat hell out of someone with cast iron, and do some real cranial damage. It doesn't scratch. It doesn't bend or break. If you drop it on your tile floor, you'll probably need to replace some tiles. 

It's doesn't waste heat, but is resourceful like the woman of worth

In Proverbs 31, we see a woman, a wife, of noble character and great worth. She works hard and is resourceful. "Charm is deceptive, and beauty fleeting," says the King, "but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised" (Prov 31:30). In other words, she brings benefit to her husband and family--she gives and creates and multiplies, rather than taking and squandering. 

What's neat about cast iron is it holds heat incredibly well. And that heat that is held is used for its purpose--to cook food. When I cook rice, I turn the stove on (yes, I have an electric stove, and no, I don't worry about the government turning it off remotely on me) for about five or ten minutes, and then turn it off. The rice continues to cook for a good half hour unsupervised. It doesn't scald. It radiates nice and evenly--almost like a crock post or a radiator. Which brings me to my next point.

Patience

Cooking with cast iron takes an adjustment of our expectations. Cooks in 5-star restaurants need to run over meals quickly, but in the home we have more time (usually) and can enjoy the process. Because it is so heavy, cast iron heats up slowly and holds heat. This can mean sometimes longer cook times, if you want to fry a quick egg or boil water (unless you are using induction). Is that such a bad thing? Cooking can be a chore, but it can also be a way to be together, enjoy doing simple and fundamental things, and take our time. 

It's like Mass. We can "git r done," or we can enter into the experience as part of life, not something we "have to do," but something we get to do. If a solemn high mass with a schola takes an extra half hour of our time, is this time we are robbed of? Of course not. 

You have to care for it

Cast iron is not without some drawbacks. If you soak it for a while or leave it outside, it will develop rust. It's non-stick properties can rival Teflon, but you have to heat it in the oven or stove-top, and season it periodically with vegetable oil. 

Like our faith, which we need to nurture and work at. Daily mental prayer, adoration, exercise of charity, rooting out hidden faults, reception of the sacraments, examination of conscience are all part of living our faith. It takes extra work, just as you prune and fertilize a tree to maximize fruit production. 

It's overlooked and cleans up well

Cast iron pots can be found at thrift stores for ten dollars and last a lifetime. Sometimes they are rusty, but the "bones" are good, and the rust is easily cleaned off with vinegar or lemon juice. 

In scripture, we see the man who finds a pearl of great price and runs home to sell everything he has in order to buy it. He knows it's worth. He also sees its potential. God, too, does not see our rust and neglect and trauma, but our heart. He pulls us out of the miry pit and sets us on a firm foundation (Ps 40:2). He washes us of our sin with his own blood, makes our garments white as snow (Is 1:18). And once it's cleaned up and set aright, it has the potential to prepare hundred of thousands of meals for the rest of it's life. It will never wear out, never run dry (Jn 4:1-26). 

It eschews the disposable mindset

Like I said, you will rarely see cast iron on an As Seen On Tv ad. It's not meant to be thrown out, but passed down through generations. When we are young, poor and unsettled it's tempting to buy the cheapest non-stick cookware at Walmart, the way you buy Ikea furniture. But in the end, the things that last come out cheaper in the long run. Even just having one or two nice pots or knives is better (in my opinion) than having an arsenal of low-grade equipment.  

Additionally, the Faith is not meant to peter out after it becomes passe or unfashionable, but to endure from generation to generation (Ecc 1:4). That means it needs to be true to its nature, focused on it's eternal worth, and not prone to whims or trends. Even if it does find itself neglected or abused, a wipe down with an acid and a sheen of oil will restore it to its former glory--just like the worst sinner is only one confession away from a restored friendship with his creator.

I hope you enjoyed this random post. The next time you go to Goodwill, check the shelves for a rusty old cast iron pot or skillet and see for yourself what I mean. As the Lord says, "Test me in this." (Mal 3:10). 

Hunger Is The Sweetest Sauce

 Last weekend my son and I went backpacking for a weekend on the Appalachian Trail. The AT will always hold a unique place in my personal salvation history; seventeen, alone and homesick in a forlorn shelter on a two week section hike across Pennsylvania, I encountered the living Word while reading the Psalms for the first time. When I would set off each day for yet another 18-20 mile day, I would leave my right hand free at my side, and the Lord would take it in His own. And not realizing at the time, the scripture was fulfilled in doing so, "Yet I still belong to you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny" (Ps 73:23).

So, I keep going back, now taking my son, hoping to make some memories, just as I still remember the first backpacking trip to Mt. Minsi that I took with my dad. The funny thing is, as much hiking and camping I have done, I don't actually enjoy it all that much. It's not novel; and I find walking/hiking actually quite boring. The older I get, the less I enjoy sleeping on the ground. 

When my son and I set off, parking our car in a little trail lot off in the rusty town of Marysville, near Duncannon, I didn't expect the section we had chosen to be as rough as it was; it had been over twenty five years since I had been on that part of the trail. It was hot, and the air was thick with humidity. We crossed through some open pasture, giant swiss-rolls of hay squatting standoffish throughout the fields. When we entered the woods, it was rocks, rocks everywhere (the PA section of the Trail is where thru-hikers famously state, "boots go to die."). We gained a surprising amount of elevation, but without the views--just trees, rocks, and my chaffing pack straps. 

I hadn't brought a map with me, as it was only a few miles to the shelter and spring where we had planned to spend the night. When you're tired, hungry and cranky, the mind seems to play curious psychological tricks on you with regards to the concept of time' when you think your destination is just around the bend...it's not. You start to second guess yourself and your bearings. 

We eventually hit a yellow-blazed spur trail, and weren't sure if that was the path to the shelter since there were no signs. We hiked down a ways, then back up when no shelter seemed to be in sight. My son was starting to fade a little, and I could feel a blister starting to develop on my big toe. We prayed the Sorrowful Mysteries together, hoping that we weren't wasting our energy and asking for the hand of God who led me when I was lost in the wilderness as a teenager to once again lead us on the right path.

Finally, after winding up a few modest switchbacks, we heard some voices at the crest--the first humans we had seen all day--and a blue-blaze. My son was relieved, and I was too. A few hundred yards later, we had dropped our packs on the mossy picnic table outside the three-sided Adirondack shelter, relished in the accomplishment, and got to cooking dinner and settling in.

Many of the early conservationists in our country felt that time in nature was an indispensable part of the human experience. I would agree, both for transcendental reasons, but also because it is a lesson in contrasts: The natural world is vast, and you are small. Nature is unforgiving, unbending, governed by unchanging laws; we are weak, fickle, in need of mercy. Nature speaks in silence; silence is foreign to us. Nature cares nothing for comfort, and we are addicted to it. 

After our one-pot meal of box mac n cheese (sans milk and butter) cooked over a small alcohol stove, we cleaned up and then were utterly...bored. We still had a couple hours of daylight, and set up the tent in a small clearing. When we settled in, it was around 6:30 pm and we dozed off to sleep. We both would subsequently wake up every few hours in the middle of the pitch-black night, waiting for sunrise so we could make our way back down and back to civilization. When we finally did the next day, we felt good, proud, elated, accomplished. We had only hiked around six miles total with less than a thousand feet elevation gain, but in coming back to the land of the living, everything had a sheen, a sweet glaze. We hopped in the car and set up for an Amish smorgasbord in Lancaster an hour away. 

My wife thinks I'm crazy for rarely using the central A/C in summer and setting the thermostat at 85, and for taking cold showers year round, even when it's fifty-five degrees in the house in winter. It sucks hard, but strangely it also makes me feel...alive. In my post,  Do the Hard Thing, I quote Wim Hof, aka "The Iceman" who found healing from the searing emotional pain of losing his wife in the numbing physical discomfort of outdoor plunges in freezing temperatures. His point is true,

"As humanity has evolved and developed ways to make our lives more and more comfortable, we have lost our ability not only to survive but to thrive in extreme environments," the Iceman notes. "The things we have built to make our lives easier have actually made us weaker."

Even Jordan Peterson, who has made a living telling young men to "make their damn bed," gets it: periodic deprivation keeps us from getting too soft and going insane.  I quote him in my post, We're Not Adapted for Security and Utopia, who for his part simply quotes Dostoevsky, that astute observer of human nature,

"Dostoevsky said that in Notes from the Underground...and I love this..he was an early critic of the notion of a political utopia. He said, if you gave people everything they wanted..they had nothing to eat but cake, and nothing to do but sit in warm pools and busy themselves with the continuation of the species...the first thing they would do after a week or so would go half insane and smash everything up just so that something they didn't expect would happen so they would have something interesting to do. We're not adapted for security and utopia!" 

The fathers in the faith knew the power of fasting, the power of mortification, the power of The Discipline, because it puts us face to face with our need--our mal-adapted need for food, comfort and security, but also (and even greater), our need for God and His grace. Because we are prone to forget, and because sin is wily, we start to edge dangerously close to following in the footsteps of King David, who lapsed into adultery with Bathsheba as he lounged in the robe of comfort and idleness when he should have been at war and sleeping on the ground with his men.

We are a climate-controlled society. We take solace in our portfolios rather than relying on Providence for our daily bread. We rely on artificial contraception rather than periodic abstinence because we falsely believe man cannot live in the bosom of continence. We kill babies rather than welcome them when it threatens to derail our carefully curated plans. The thought of skipping a meal comes as a monumental penance, and we have a 60% obesity rate to show for it. 

There's a reason the Lord warns against riches--not because wealth is evil in and of itself, but because it gives us everything we may want. And the Divine Physician knows that material tumor has the potential to metastasize if we're not mindful. The pre-req for the course on freedom that our Lord schools is Renunciation, and those unwilling to turn their back on their homeland are unworthy to have a seat in its lecture hall. You cannot find your life until you are willing to lose it. 

I'll probably periodically keep going back to the Trail, both alone and with my son from time to time--not because I love spending time this way, but because I don't. It has a way of making me appreciate my family, my kitchen sink and table, my pantry more when I return, something I grow forgetful of when I'm too attached to it. For hunger, indeed, is the sweetest sauce. 

AboutFace

There is a saying in the preaching world: "A good example is the best sermon."

As Christians, we are taught to be good. The Church is not of this world, but as a system of spiritual machination, the goal is to produce saints, as it says in scripture "Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints" (Ps 116:15). As we know from history, in the saints She has produced (or, rather, recognized) there was great diversity in their modes of sanctity. The goal of Christian life is not uniformity, but conformity--that is, conforming our hearts, wills, and lives to that of our master Christ. 

It is human nature to want to choose the way we serve God; we have a consumer heart, whether we realize it or not, and even if we give up 98% of our lives to Christ, that precious 2% we often reserve the way Ananias and Sapphira held back some of their offering (Acts 5:1-11). Even St. Peter perhaps had this mind when he was given fair warning by our Lord that "Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go” (Jn 21:18). 

And so, we learn to piece together our spiritual and corporal lives in ways that are largely presentable within the Church: feeding the poor, attending Mass, making Holy Hours, being kind and forgiving one another, honoring our religious superiors and authorities, tithing. These are great stories for the local diocesan newspaper or issues of Catholic Digest because they make us feel good. They are what a good Catholic is supposed to do. Because a good example is the best sermon.

But what happens when a Catholic becomes what seems to be a bad example, when they do things that step out of the uniform "good" line and start to make people feel uncomfortable? Our good Lord set the example which he expected us to follow; he began his public ministry helping an embarrassed party with wedding details, cured sick folks, blessed children, and miraculously fed thousands in one sitting. But somewhere along the way, he started making people (namely, the religious authorities and by extension, the Romans) a little nervous. He did things that were 'illegal,' in violation of law and custom. This itinerant preacher's following was starting to swell, and those charged with maintaining order (both religious and civic) were starting to notice, as we see in scripture,

“What are we accomplishing?” they [the chief priests and Pharisees] asked. “Here is this man performing many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our temple and our nation.”

Then one of them, named Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, spoke up, “You know nothing at all! You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.” (Jn 11:48-50)

Our Lord's precedent was not that we become good Jews or good people to gain eternal life, but that we share in his baptism of death (Rom 6:3) to accomplish that purpose. Whether we experience that death literally (in martyrdom) or spiritually (in various desolations and privations), none of us can become united to the risen Christ without drinking the cup of his passion. God does not call all to the witness of physical martyrdom, but to some, he does. We all have our own cross tailor made for us, and we we sin by omission when we attempt to shirk it as he lays it on our shoulders.

Speaking of the cross, it is such a ubiquitous symbol in our religious faith as Catholics that we can become numb to it, a kind of iconoclastic white noise meant for walls and background or necklace chains. It's slightly unbecoming to have actual blood stains in the sanctuary carpet, after all, and hard to raise one's hands in song and praise when you have nails in them that have shattered your second and third metacarpal.

In our faith, we often complain about the people who don't seem to really believe "all this stuff," meaning the articles of faith that inform how we live our lives. Whether you call them cultural Catholics or cafeteria Catholics or what have you, we convince ourselves that because we do believe and profess everything the Church teaches--as opposed to those who don't--we stand justified. We are like the "good Jews" who don't associate with the uncircumcised or eat unclean foods. We want to bathe Christ's whole body when he gives us his soiled feet to wash instead. We make bold proclamations of dying before denying him, but then when a simple servant girl notices our association with him, we denounce him. These are tough lessons, and if you didn't notice, St. Peter had to learn all those aforementioned the hard way. And so do we.

Back to the cross. Christ, by his death on the cross, rebranded it so we could enjoy it's spiritual fruits. Of course Christ was not the first or last to undergo this method of torture and death. But what was the cross a symbol of prior to his resurrection? Who were the ones who were crucified, and why? 

"Crucifixion was fairly broadly practiced in the ancient world, but the Romans used this particularly brutal form of execution as a means of producing social conformity. It was, the Roman politician Cicero says, the “most cruel and hideous of tortures.” The bodies of the condemned would remain on crosses for days. 

Once dead, some were allowed to rot in public, others were taken down and thrown to wild animals, while others were buried. By maximizing the public display of torture the message to onlookers was quite clear: undermine the empire and the same thing could happen to you." [1]

 

Bart Ehrman takes this a step further on the topic of why Romans crucified people and who crucifixion was reserved for:

"The crucifixion was not invented by the Romans, but they used it a lot.  It was thought of as the most horrible, painful, tortuous, and humiliating form of execution possible.   If Romans wanted simply to kill someone without a fuss, there were plenty of other means available – for example, beheading.

But there were lots of special cases.  Two of the most common were low-life criminals and enemies of the state.   These are two very different matters – they are not the same thing.  Low-life criminals would include, for example, slaves who had escaped from their masters and committed a crime.   If caught, a slave could be crucified.   There were two reasons they were subjected to such a tortuous, slow, and humiliating death.

They were receiving the “ultimate” punishment for their crime.  But possibly more important, they were used as a spectacle to warn any other slave who was thinking about escaping or committing crimes about what could happen to *them*.

Worse than escaping as a slave or stealing a horse –very much worse – was opposing the Roman state itself.  This is something the Romans WOULD NOT tolerate.  Enemies of the state were shown what the power of the state was.  And crucifixion was how it was done.   If you were a resistor to Roman military action – crucified.  If you were caught attacking Roman troops – crucified.  If you plotted to overthrow the local Roman government – crucified.

Crucifixion was a particularly poignant statement when it came to enemies of the state.  Those who were opposed to Rome. I don’t mean those who didn’t much like the Romans running the show, those who wished things were different, or even those who hoped something better would come along. But instead, those who actively sought to oppose the state, or at least were *thought* by the Roman authorities to seek to oppose the state.

They were unceremoniously condemned to be crucified precisely in order to show how absolutely HELPLESS anyone is who thinks they can oppose the power of Rome.

Roman power was very real, very tangible, and very palpable.  And it was played out on the bodies of those who tried to oppose it.  Crucifixion was the perfect mode of execution for anyone engaging in, supporting, or endorsing violent opposition to the Roman state.  Do you think you can oppose US?  Well then, this is what we’ll do to YOU to show you how powerful you really are.

Your hands and feet are nailed securely to wood and you are left to hang in a position where you cannot fend for yourself.   You are not able to move your body, wave off the scavenging birds or kick away the roaming dogs.  Powerless to lift a finger to help yourself.  We can do this for you.  And if you oppose our power, this *is* what we will do to you.

Crucifixion was not merely death by torture.  It was a symbolic statement that WE are Roman power and YOU are nothing.  And if you oppose us, we will prove it, by rendering you absolutely, completely powerless, while we wrack your body with pain and make you scream."

I've been thinking about all this in the context of the pro-life witnesses who were recently sentenced on charges of violation of the FACE (Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances) Act. For those who aren't aware of this law here in the U.S., 

The Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act (FACE or the Access Act, Pub. L. No. 103-259, 108 Stat. 694) (May 26, 1994, 18 U.S.C. § 248) is a United States law that was signed by President Bill Clinton in May 1994, which prohibits the following three things: (1) the use of physical force, threat of physical force, or physical obstruction to intentionally injure, intimidate, interfere with or attempt to injure, intimidate or interfere with any person who is obtaining an abortion, (2) the use of physical force, threat of physical force, or physical obstruction to intentionally injure, intimidate, interfere with or attempt to injure, intimidate or interfere with any person who is exercising or trying to exercise their First Amendment right of religious freedom at a place of religious worship, (3) the intentional damage or destruction of a reproductive health care facility or a place of worship. [2]

When I wrote earlier about the gradients of Catholics--from those who "believe all this stuff" to those who don't to those who take it literally and attempt to live it--that same mindset applies to those in the pro-life movement. There are gradients of activism: from 40 Days for Life and sidewalk counseling to the more seemingly "extreme" like Red Rose Rescue who seek to physically "stand in" for the helpless and oppressed by non-violent direct action. What this entails, however, is literally doing so by blocking access to abortion centers and as a result, violating (whether intentionally or unintentionally) the FACE Act (I should note that I find it strangely ironic that articles 2) and 3) group "reproductive health care facilities" with "places of worship"). 

(Edit: from Monica Miller: (Red Rose Rescuers do not block anything during the rescue. That's why we have never been charged with FACE. Also. The 11 years is because these Rescuers were slapped with the additional charge of conspiracy to interfere with civil rights.)

Rescuers might be the pro-life equivalent of St. Anthony at the age of eighteen hearing the Gospel of Matthew (19:21) being read in church about selling all you have in order to be perfect and then....selling everything he had. Or St. Francis standing buck naked in public after removing all his clothes and giving them back to his father, renouncing his hereditary rights. These are pro-lifers who really do not just believe that abortion is the killing of innocent life (as most of us "good Catholics" do), but who also feel that they cannot stand idly by while those innocents are slaughtered. They're not making memes and doing fundraisers. They are simply exercising the logical and compelling action of such truths. Say anything you want about their methods--they are not hypocrites.  

In doing so, however, they stand not just as a witness to the unborn, but a source of discomfort to those (like many of us) who "believe" but do not act (Ja 2:17-18), who would rather venerate the plastic corpus on the wall so as not stain the sanctuary carpet with our own blood. Getting sentenced to 11 years in prison for such an act is not only painful, but humiliating. Because the Church no longer stands against the State (who defends and upholds the legality of such slaughter of innocent life by abortion and who is in bed with the abortion industry) but abets it, one has become not only a literal criminal in the eyes of the state, but a "bad" (ie, 'radical'; ie, one who believes and acts) Catholic, a proper leper among polite Catholic society. 

And when it comes to FACE and the five defendants, that's exactly the point. To alienate, humiliate, and publicly make an example of anyone who may also be considering such sedition against the State (and, by extension, the abortion industry) in the same way crucifixion made an example of criminals and insurrectionists. 

Roman (read: governmental) power was very real, very tangible, and very palpable.  And it was played out on the bodies of those who tried to oppose it.  Crucifixion was the perfect mode of execution for anyone engaging in, supporting, or endorsing violent opposition to the Roman (read: U.S.) state.  Do you think you can oppose US?  Well then, this is what we’ll do to YOU to show you how powerful you really are.

All that being said, I do maintain that just as not all are called to the same martyrdom (or called to physical martyrdom at all), not all are called to be Rescuers. When Christ asks James and John if they can drink the cup he is going to drink, they answer affirmatively, to which Jesus responds "You will indeed drink from my cup" (Mt 20:23). We all must drink the cup of suffering as Christians and we all must heed our consciences always and without exception as well, but that will look different for each person and will only be in accordance with the will of the Father when it is discerned accurately. God gave to James the Greater the cup of beheading while James the Lesser was thrown from the Temple and stoned. Thomas was speared, Phillip was impaled by iron hooks. They were not all Zealots, but one out of the twelve was (Simon). Yet all died following and professing Christ even when they were not afforded a share in his particular method of torture, which was crucifixion. And so likewise there is a place for Rescuers, even if we are not all Rescuers.

Legal crucifixion is the weapon of choice in our country, and the Five are being hung out as "bad examples"--'domestic terrorists', 'insurrectionists', 'criminals,' 'zealots' for all to see...including those in our own religious ranks. I pray they share in Christ's own strong cup of humiliation and his alienation from his own people, from the "good Jews" of his day, that at their trial when they stand alone before the One True Judge, they receive their just reward.