Yesterday, Ginny and I spent a fair amount of time editing a new post for today.  We had wanted to make sure that we got the wording just right, trimmed it down enough to not be overwhelming (I do have a tendency to go on and on…), and were almost done….

So, firefox crashed.  The crash message was there so briefly before the window disappeared that I don’t know the nature of the crash, but crash it did.  “No problem,” I thought.  “WordPress saved most of the work, and it’s fresh in my mind.”  But no.  The work was gone, irretrievable, dead. I had never seen firefox crash in this way before, and that it happened right then was extremely irritating, as if some intelligent force were at work.

I was angry.  Ginny came back into the room and was annoyed too.  I considered re-writing the post, but I was too frustrated, tired, and didn’t have the heart for it.

That was the problem, I didn’t have the heart….

So Ginny came over to me and held me and we grieved together briefly and then, well, something else happened.  This time this new thing happened to both of us, in apparent unison.  A feeling of assurance and understanding washed over both of us and looked at each other in coterminous understanding.

It occurred to both of us that perhaps that strange crash, at that moment, was not mere accident.  Why would it happen then, as we worked on a post together for the first time (sort of like a preamble to our coming wedding vows), rather than any other time? What was the significance?

What if some power, some force, or even some intelligence saw this as the right opportunity to reach out to us.  I have been saying for some time that if a god existed, I’d want to know.  Also, I have said that this god would know how to make itself known to me.  Apparently, god was waiting for the right time.  He surely does work in mysterious ways.

What happened next was too sudden, too intense to record.  Most of it was a blur.  There were tears, prayers, and we had to go out to get what we needed in order to complete the right ritual.  We didn’t have time to call a priest or consult the book, we had to get moving before God smited us.  Of course, finding a goat so late at night would be hard, especially without a car.

But eventually we found a supermarket that had some goat meat which was open all night, and proceeded to acquire it.  It was not much of a “sacrifice,” but it was all we could do under such short notice.  The meat department were nice enough to supply some goat blood too, as that would be necessary.

We burnt it on an altar to the Lord, as is demanded by Him, and left it for the high priests.

Of course, not having our own altar, we had to go to the local Jewish temple.  But their altar was probably inside, and the door was really hard to get through, so we stopped trying and instead used the front steps and left it there for them.  They will be so happy to know that people are returning to the old ways.

I know, I know…I’m new to this, OK? I have not read Leviticus in so long that I just sort of winged it.  It came from the heart.  That’s all the Host of Hosts demands, right? Later today I will re-read the chapters and do it right, but I thought that the attempt was enough to please the nose of the Lord at the time.

It did smell pretty good.  That YHWH sure loves BBQ.

In any case, we then walked home and prayed loudly in the streets for all to hear and enjoy, sharing our new-found relationship with the true god, the King of Kings, with all who were out sinning in the Babylon which is downtown Philadelphia on a Saturday night.  By this time, the bars were near to closing and we were getting nowhere with the people coming out of the bars drunk on their own dirty sin.  So we just had to try and go in and spread some more good news.

Most people were friendly, but they were not in the mood for helping us find an unblemished male goat for a morning ritual.  Plus, the blood all over us from earlier was apparently off-putting.

If these unforgiven Sodomites and Gomorrah-dwellers would only read Leviticus, they would understand that we hadn’t just slaughtered a room full of children, but in fact had been trying to please the God they were ignoring.

But they were too busy ignoring His Throne in their drunken orgy of Baal or whatever.  Hey, I read the gosh-darned book years ago, it’s not exactly fresh in my memory!If not Baal, it was one of those false idols, like Vishnu or something.  That false god loves drunk people.

So, after getting a few hours of sleep (I slept on the couch, not being married to Ginny yet and all), we woke up for an early church service at the local Baptist church, where we tried to show them all how to properly sacrifice a dove (OK, pigeon.  We were short on time, again).  But they were not interested and asked us to leave.  So we left them to their luke-warmness and proceeded down the street.

We were lucky enough to catch the start of a Presbyterian service, and since they were already started we quietly sacrificed the pigeon in the back rows, which seemed to offend a few people.  Perhaps they were upset because we did it at the wrong time? I’m not sure, but I don’t remember where the scripture tells you precisely when to do these things, so perhaps they were yelling at us for no reason except that they preferred to sacrifice birds after the communion.

Apparently, our timing was really bad, because they kicked us out too, a few of them following us down the street.  Something about returning a “collection” plate, whatever that is.

But before trying to catch the noon Mass at the Catholic church, we decided that we should share our good news.  Also, sorry Gina and Wes, but we can no longer take part in your sinning lifestyle.  I guess we can still hang out and stuff, so long as you see the light.  You do have a good back yard for burnt offerings, after all.  However, if you don’t see the truth, we don’t want to be associated with people who will burn for eternity.  And no, it’s not classism, whatever kind of Commie talk that is!

We will also have to take the website down soon, or at least change it to burntofferings.com (if that’s available!).  But right now we have to get to Mass!

They’ll be so glad we brought our own sheep!