The Prostitution of Greed


gains

gains (Photo credit: 401K)

For the sake of gain, you men of the world, you entice with woman.  Everywhere I look the unholy appears before me.

Is this all you have?  Is this the sum of your enticements?  Does greed cover you so completely that you would even sell your daughters for the sake of gain?

You call it innocent to offer the pictures of your female children along side advertisements meant to fill your pockets.  And the least offensive among your greedy advertisements is repulsive in itself.  You do not tell the truth to gain what can be kept, or that which is due you by just scales.  Instead you proclaim that if we look and desire what you offer, your daughters will dress the walls of our hearts with desire.

Foolishness abounds in this age of pictures.  Prostitution of family has become the accepted way to sell the things you know very well we don’t need.  But you want for yourself.  You call it competition.  And you think that you need to capture, from among men, those your wicked brother has already captured.  So you sell what should not be sold.

So be it.  Fill up, then, what is lacking in your sins.  Debase the mothers of your grandchildren.  Sell them as a token of greed.  Amass to yourself the very things you can not keep.   All the while teaching that greed is best and dedication to what is holy is non-profit.  You decide by yourselves what will be your challenge when you stand before Him naked and void of answer.

“There is a Line.”


Susan Ashton sung the song, “There is a Line.”  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIGbgZbzvGw  Such exquisite lyrics.  They have played in my mind all night.  The first few lines go like this:

It’s hard to tell just when the night becomes the day

That golden moment when the darkness rolls away

But there is a moment none the less.
In the regions of the heart there is a place

A sacred charter that should not be erased
It is the marrow; the moral core that I can not ignore.

I can’t define that moment in my life with absolute clarity.  But I do know, without the slightest doubt that it happened.  It is a micro moment in which one does not care about the things holy, then one cares.  I don’t think it was a choice I made.  I think the choice to obey His calling came afterward.

Now here’s the point:  Why isn’t this slender silver moment apparent in everyone’s life?  Why do we struggle so to describe it to those who have not had it?  If we all had it we could point to a common understanding.  But it isn’t there.  Why?