There was a time that peoples from far off lands would sacrifice their children to what ever god name you give it. They killed them all for something they worshiped that they felt the need to sacrifice one of their own (the Norse also used to do this) but this one and that did it to stop a calamity of some sort or another. Some didn’t believe that people would sacrifice one of their own for a future they did not desire in hopes said sacrifice would pave their way.
Hannibal means ‘gift of Baal’.
They threw their children in to cauldrons of fire, only bones left.
The Romans sacrificed some Greeks and another but not of them, something not done but heard of from times gone by, and they gave them to the earth.
and then Carthage was wiped off the face.
Can you imagine the times Paul (buried outside the wall) lived in, the Romans had conquered again, and the second temple had been leveled.
Mary had seen the city of Sepphoris, little bird, be leveled once and her sons had helped rebuild it. She had lived so much rebellion and so many horrific prices paid.
There weren’t supposed to be any human sacrifices.
There are these strange cults of these days where many believe a human sacrifice was made for them: be it the man on the cross or the baby in the way, and it’s always for their sin.
I’m not saying God doesn’t forgive but when you give all that their/ere is but what that is is someone else, gather God is all.
As the season of the sticks starts to rise the underbrush bright green with fresh growth kept warm by the tall tree trunks now bare.
Be still and listen
One day I will tell you a story
Alchemy, where we take one thing and make it into another.
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