Souls of Men

I awoke to the sound (as it were) of that ruthless transaction which is the true commerce of this present world: the buying and selling of souls.

I am not sure which was more deafening: the sound of it, or the silence in what is called God’s house.

Ought they rather to be wailing over the souls of men? But these have put in their lot with the merchants of the earth, and they also profit by the trading of men’s souls.

And the merchants of the earth weep and mourn over her (fallen Babylon), because no one buys their cargo any more, cargo of gold, and silver, and of precious stone, and of pearls, and of fine linen, and of purple, and of silk, and of scarlet, and all thyine wood, and every ivory vessel, and every vessel of very precious wood, and of bronze, and of iron, and of marble, and cinnamon, and incenses, and ointment, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine meal, and wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and horses, and chariots, and of bodies and souls of men.
Revelation 18:11-13 (LITV)

Do not partake in her sins, lest you partake also in her plagues.

One comment on “Souls of Men

  1. Tim Shey says:

    The Hidden Streets of Babylon
    By Tim Shey

    With selfwork
    By traditions of men
    Stumble down the hidden streets of Babylon
    You are a puppet on a hellish string

    Many words are spoken
    Sterile speech into vacant air
    This is how the heathen pray
    The Lord wants your heart
    No faith, no life, no Jesus
    I am surrounded by white-washed walls

    Summa Theologica is for aesthetes
    Solus ecclesia echoes nothing
    Most Latin is Greek to me

    Rituals and liturgy
    Feed the pride
    Of the unsaved seminarian

    The Council of Whitby
    Ushered in the Dark Ages
    We have strayed
    From the Word of God
    And His inspired Scriptures

    Idolatry is a habit
    Worn by blind people
    Watch them
    Groping, crawling
    In a dark, overchurched ditch

    Living by sight
    And the wisdom of this world
    Is fashionable and insane
    Its compass points the maddening crowd
    To nowhere
    It paves a smooth, broad path
    To perdition


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