Dream of a Woman

In my dream I saw a type of city, or large lavish marketplace. In it, and open as a mall shop doorway is, was a Clockwork Library of sorts. Running up the center of that library was a brass spire of interlocked and spinning gears. I stepped through the doors, could see that all around the room were men and women, shopping, browsing books, drinking coffee, and chatting. This seemed a sort of place where single men and women of faith could go to find their ordained spouse. Several couples, having already found one another, greeted me then returned to their conversations. Groups of attractive women would look at me, wave, smile, or blush. I would give them a nod and a polite smile but otherwise pay no attention. This disappointed them some, but they returned to their conversations shortly after.

Strangely enough, E. Michael Jones was the caretaker of the library, and I knew that I had come to meet him. Unbeknownst to me at the time, he required that everyone should purchase a ticket to get inside. I was a stranger to this land, and thinking nothing of the sort I walked in and started exploring.

I walked through rows-upon-rows of books on massive shelves stacked beneath high vaulted ceilings, and overlooked by great balconies. I ran my hands along the dark wood shelves, across the spines of weathered wisdom, took in the scent of ancient tomes and manuscripts. In the corner of my eye, at the back of the library, I could see some hallowed area of seclusion, rarely trafficked. I made my way toward it, could feel myself being pulled to it. The area some how felt off-limits and there were two theaters. I pulled at the regal double doors of one, it didn’t budge. To my left, I saw a concierge stand where I could purchase tickets to get in. There was a man at the desk, he was staring at me.

Feeling entirely out of place, and knowing that the room itself knew I was, I turned to leave. I was stopped by a plainly-beautiful woman who approached me. She asked me what I was doing. I didn’t respond at first, only admired her simple beauty: She had brown hair, pale skin, I can’t remember her eye color. She seemed aloof, untouchable to any man. I wanted this woman, despite that there were plenty of other beautiful women about who also had eyes for me. She informed me of the Library’s entry rules, and I told her that I knew E. Michael Jones and was here to see him. She gave me an entry ticket, led me to him. Jones and I greeted one another, and he spoke to me, explained why he had mandated we should purchase a ticket to get in.

I listened for some time, then looked about for the woman. She had disappeared. I asked Jones about her. He said that she was old, ancient even. I disagreed, as she looked to be in her twenties, no older than thirty. I expressed my desire to marry her, and he explained that it would be impossible. Regardless, I wanted to pursue her. He then gave me a pair of silver gloves from his own hands, and departed, like some wizened wizard, off into the Clockwork Library. I set it in myself to seek out the woman.

I ascended some grand staircase, up onto the terrace above. There was a shimmering white bazaar perched high above a large metropolis. Peoples from all over the face of the earth were selling various extravagant wares. I walked around, seeking the woman from earlier yet did not find her. At one shop, some dark skinned man, very well dressed, stopped me, expressed his interest in the gloves. I refused to sell them, and explained my reasons for being here. He sighed, and wished me luck in finding this woman.

I descended back into the Clockwork Library, ran into another beautiful woman. She was blond, pale skinned, blue eyed. She was interested in me, but I was not interested in her. I explained to her the reason for my search, the woman I sought.

“Oh,” she said. “Come with me. I’ll take you to her.”

 And so I did. I followed that blond woman through the library, past row upon row of shelves, like some network of arteries, for what seemed like days. Until, at last, I finally found her. She was sitting alone in a window seat, staring out across some vast distance of natural wonder, pining, sighing in some kind of boredom or loneliness. She turned when she heard us approaching, stood when she saw.

She and the blond woman embraced one another, they were friends. The blond woman introduced us, I don’t remember any names. The two of them tried to explain why it was that I could not have her, nor she I. I realized the woman I sought was quite plain in appearance compared to her friend, however, despite this, I found her to be absolutely enthralling, entirely gorgeous. I explained that it would work, it only seemed logical, as we were interested in one another. The woman I sought told me it wouldn’t work, shame spread on her face as she explained that she was too old. I refused to listen, as I could clearly see that she was young, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, in fact.

The two women looked at one another, a defeated expression on their face. They looked back to me, and the woman I sought turned away. I began to feel myself slip back, pulled away by some waking force, despite resisting in my attempts to go after her. The blond woman watched me with sadness in her blue eyes. The distance between myself and the woman I sought increased, continued to do so. Occasionally, she would turn to look at me, over her shoulder. Her face shifting each time between sadness and smiles.

Churchianity; Modern "Christianity"

I'm getting straight to the point with this one. Modern christianity is a worldy inversion of true Christianity. It is a joke, a farce, and a lie. There is, in fact, absolutely nothing Christian about modern christianity. Simply by the attempt that modern christianity tries to be modern proves that it has nothing to do with what Christ died for. For Christ did not die for trying to be anything other than a loyal slave of God-in-Christ.

Christianity doesn't change. In fact, no covenant between the One Living God and a man ever changes. Christ was man and God. How much the more so would that New Covenant, solidified with the blood and body of the Christ, remain the same? The answer is that it wouldn't be any more or less so than it ever was - because God NEVER changes! The de facto state of a modern christian church is that it has no basis in the blood and body of the Christ, Immanuel.

Modern church, and modern christianity is too polluted with the ways of the world. These ways ranging from: the lie that men and women are equal on this earth; the anti-Christ compulsion of blatantly announced times of tithing; the anti-Christ acceptance of open homosexual relations and people; the lie of "diversity," and that all ethnic groups are the same; the denial of the proper roles of men and women - that denial of the fact that men are leaders, and women are helpers; the lie that Christianity should appeal to everyone, and offend no one; the lie that Christianity is open to interpretation; the lie that women can fill church roles; the lie that the collection of Scripture called the Bible is the only acceptable work of Scripture (the Book of Adam, Book of Enoch, much of the "Apocrypha" and "Pseudopigrapha" are true Scripture!).

Yet there is more, and I can continue to lecture ye fake christians, ye lost souls, ye deceived masses!

From what I noticed in one single day at West Salem Foursquare Church - A church that started in the modern Sodom/Gomorrah itself, Los Angeles, California; and with further research I found that Fouresquare supports women "pastors," here and here: For it is anti-Christ for pastors to joke about vasectomy in front of their congregation; it is anti-Christ for the pastor to flaunt their idolization of sinful, anti-God men like Bono, and Jimmy Fallon; it is anti-Christ to make the congregation about one's self, taking only five-ten minutes of time to speak on Scripture.

Yet also, I cannot wholly deny that despite the modern church perverting God-through-Christ's life and teachings, that God will not make some good thing come from them. For it is God's good desire to turn an evil outcome into a good one.

I'll leave with this:

Before God-in-Christ, trying is not good enough. For in Christ, even thinking of an iniquitous thought is damning, but also is the repentance of it made simple in the Christ's sacrifice. Yet, that does not mean that our backsliding, our failures, our sins, place less shame on our shoulders, or garner us less punishment. No. For we in Christ Immanuel, God-with-us, are under a New Covenant formed by the man and God, Jesus of Nazereth. Because we Christians are a new creation, we are held to greater standards.

Better is it for one to sin not knowing God, then for one to sin who does know God.

God-in-Christ be with you,

Logos Prevailing