Going veggie - Were humans meant to eat meat?

Recent concerns about carbon emissions include the massive amount of methane produced by animals, of which there are several billion more than originally intended, due to many humans’ insatiable desire for meat. This article looks at the original diet intended for both humans and animals and will no doubt be good news for vegetarians and animal lovers alike.

      I must confess, I do like bacon. Not as enthusiastically, as some, I might add, and I’m rapidly fancying that rack of spare ribs a lot less than I used to, but I've certainly eaten my pound of flesh. So the following statement is not a pious, self-righteous attack on carnivores but an honest presentation of the facts:

       Humans were not designed to eat meat.  

       If, like me, you believe in creation you also have to believe God's words to Adam in Genesis chapter 1:29*. "Here I have given to you every seed-bearing plant that is on the earth and every tree with seed-bearing fruit."

       It doesn't end there. According to Genesis 1:30, even animals were vegetarian: "Let them serve as food to you. And to every wild animal of the earth and t every flying creature of the heavens and to everything moving on the earth in which there is life, I have given all green vegetation for food."

       Of course, we all know this idyll didn't last. Adam and Eve turned away from God and were turfed out of Eden to eat bread in the sweat of their faces until they returned to the ground (Genesis 3:19). The treacherous twosome lost their wonderful privilege of filling the earth with their perfect children, caring for the animals and turning the rest of the earth into a paradise.

       Even so, meat was not on the menu until after the flood+ when God gave Noah and his descendants permission to eat flesh. (Genesis 9:3,4) No doubt in consideration of the animals, he instilled in them a fear of humans instead of the trust they had enjoyed originally. (Genesis 9:2)

      The good news for animal lovers is that meat eating may one day be abolished. Certainly, animals in the new earth will be well cared for.  When the catastrophic results of Adam's rebellion are reversed, all living things will perhaps return to their original diet of seed-bearing fruit and vegetables, in line with Isaiah chapter 11:6-9: "The cow and the bear will feed together, and their young will lie down together. The lion will eat straw like the bull." 

 

* New World Translation

+ Putting life into words: Was there really a global flood? (jacybrean.blogspot.com)

 

 

The Trees Have Ears

So what do we do now?" Alice wondered. Miles frowned and they both fell silent again, their spirits sinking. Neither had a clue what course to take next. "The fire's going out," Alice remarked gloomily.

Then Miles had an idea. "I know!" he cried and leapt to his feet. Alice glanced up at him hopefully. "We can strip the bark from the trees! That'll save us having to go off looking for logs again."

"Is that the best you can think of?" snapped Alice. But Miles was too busy to listen. He opened his Swiss army knife Uncle Jeff had given him and began hacking into a nearby tree when......

There was a spine-chilling, piercing, blood-curdling scream!

The children shook with renewed terror. "What's that?" cried Alice.

"It's ME!" came a booming disembodied voice "I'm bleeding!"

"Who are you?" yelled Miles.

"I'm Larch," was the answer, and a man's head suddenly appeared from the high branches of the tree which Miles had started to strip. "When you cut me with a knife, I scream!" 

"I'm Beech," another head popped down from the tree," and if you steal my bark, I'll die!"

"And I'm Horse" said yet another head, "and if you hurt me, I will whinny and kick and bite you - hard!"

All at once, dozens of people started jumping out from all over the place; down from the trees and out from the enormous ferns that fringed the forest. At first, it was almost impossible to distinguish men from the women, as they all sported beads and smocks and dreadlocks, and their faces were smeared with greeny-brown gunge, and their makeshift clothes, dyed to blend into their surroundings, were decorated with assorted leaves and feathers.

Extract from "Flight from Fernilee"

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Flight-Fernilee-Jacy-Brean/dp/1086551907

https://www.amazon.com/Flight-Fernilee-Jacy-Brean/dp/1086551907/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=flight+from+fernilee&qid=1632812832&sr=8-1

A perilous journey to Brindisi

A few years ago, my daughter went to Brindisi, a beautiful coastal town on the heel of Italy and a destination for thousands of migrants from north Africa and the middle east. Some of the migrants she met had left their homes for economic reasons, often sponsored by entire villages to travel to Europe where they imagined the streets would be paved with gold. Others were escaping from wars, famine and oppression, desperate people who felt they had no future in the country of their birth. 

Because of the heat, many migrants would escape the refuge centres, spending their days by cooling fountains in Brindisi's town square.  This is where my daughter talked to many of the travellers, some of whom had suffered greatly in their quest for the west.

No matter where they came from, they were forced to travel through Libya, a perilous journey. Not only were they prey to traffickers, but also to kidnappers, rapists, and crooked militia. Some unfortunate travellers were badly beaten and even killed if  a ransom couldn't be paid.

One man told a heartbreaking story. He began his journey with his wife and child who were both kidnapped and held to ransom. Having managed to secure their release, the family reached the coast where a rubber boat was waiting to ferry them to Italy, but there was only room for two of them, so the man stayed behind, waiting for another vessel. This second boat reached Brindisi safely. The first boat didn't. The man's family drowned.

Other migrants also suffered harrowing experiences, so much so, that on reaching their destination, and despite finding work as planned, they pleaded with the family and friends they'd left behind not to follow their example. No amount of prosperity was worth the dangers and unimaginable cruelty they had faced.

During her stay, my daughter heard many such stories, shattering her faith in humanity and her belief that most people in the world are basically good. Yet, one thing impressed her, something every migrant she met held in common.

Not one of them blamed God.

A perfect beach for holidaymakers

One of the camps for migrants

Brindisi at night

Flight from Fernilee - The First Escape

Extract: Miles and his sister Alice are being hunted by sinister agents. But why? What could MI6 or the CIA possibly want with ordinary kids like them?

 "Okay, Griswold," said his companion. Once his superior was out of sight, Skinner sat down on the trunk. He was easily the biggest of the men with an unbelievably wide bottom, and, as soon as he made contact with the fallen tree, it creaked ominously. All Miles and Alice could do was pray their hiding place would hold up under the strain. Moments later and to their great relief, they heard another shout.

"Oi! Skinner! Get off your fat behind and start searching! The boss ain't moving 'til we catch those brats!"

Skinner leapt up, but in doing so, the weight of his bottom dislodged the tree which jolted into motion and began to roll downhill - slowly at first, then gathering speed, flattening everything in its path as the hill dropped perilously towards the river that gushed through the gully below. Miles and Alice held their breath, unable to scream, helpless and stiff with terror. Being so tightly packed into the trunk helped brace their bodies against much of the impact, but it was still the most terrifying white-knuckle ride they‘d ever experienced!   

"This isn't doing my stomach any good at all" Miles thought to himself, as the hollow log continued to roll faster and faster downhill, stopping only when eventually, it hit the river with a tremendous splash. Instead of being spun head over heels, the children now felt themselves being thrust from side to side as the current swept them along. Miles could hear Alice hyperventilating and instinctively reached out a hand. "It's alright now," he said. At least they were safe from the men who, convinced their prey were still hiding in the wood, found sticks to probe the foliage inch by inch. Sometime later, Griswold had another bright idea. "Set fire to the place!" he yelled. "We'll smoke the beggars out!" But by this time, Miles and Alice were speeding down the river.

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Flight-Fernilee-Jacy-Brean/dp/1086551907

US: https://www.amazon.com/Flight-Fernilee-Jacy-Brean-ebook/dp/B07K24G3GJ

 

The Felling of Fernilee

Destruction of one of High Peak's most glorious forests is a sad reminder that sometimes life can mirror art.

'Flight from Fernilee' features a sinister plot to take over the earth by infecting all plant life not controlled by the evil Elymas and his Global Order Brotherhood.  It's a matter of 'Rule or Ruin' - but pure fantasy, or so I thought. When drafting my story 20 years ago, never would I have guessed that the REAL Fernilee, which fringed our local reservoir so beautifully, would be struck by a devastating disease called Phytophthora Ramorum, resulting in most of its trees being chopped down.* 

Visiting the area for the first time since Fernilee's footpaths were closed for the felling, my daughter and I were shocked and deeply upset to see our favourite woodland walk virtually desolate!

Here's hoping the rest of the forests on this planet avoid the same fate!

* https://www.peakdistrict.gov.uk/visiting/frequently-asked-questions/tree-felling-in-the-goyt-valleyphytophera

Before and after shots of Fernilee

 

 

Pontius Pilate, Priests and Politics

Every year it gets to me.

At Nisan 14, when Christians worldwide gather to commemorate Jesus' death, they will revisit his last supper, the agony in the garden of Gethsemane, the betrayal, his arrest, an illegal trial held secretly by religious leaders in the middle of the night and his appearance before Pontius Pilate.

And this is when the question arises yet again:

Why did Pilate wash his hands? 

The Roman governor knew the prisoner was innocent and he had already been warned by his wife to “have nothing to do with that righteous man” after her disturbing dream. Furthermore, he clearly recognised the hypocrisy and lies of Jesus' accusers who, despite the lack of evidence, hauled him before the unfortunate official in the middle of the night.

Instead of pitting Jesus against Barabbas for the crowd to choose which of them should die, or trying to appease the troublesome priests by having Jesus whipped, beaten and humiliated, why didn’t Pilate set Jesus free?

Now at last, I think I know the answer. It relates to a situation that began in Rome before Jesus was born; one that likely weighed against him in 33 C.E.

The knives came out

It was the Ides of March, 44 B.C.E. Julius Caesar was attending a meeting of the Senate at the Theatre of Pompey in Rome, when suddenly the knives came out.  Concerned that Caesar’s unprecedented power was undermining the Republic, over 60 senators had conspired to assassinate him, presenting the murder as tyrannicide. Chief amongst them were Marcus Brutus, Decimus Brutus and Gaius Cassius whose treachery led to Caesar being stabbed 23 times and the ultimate end of the Republic.

“Better a dead god than a live tyrant.”

No doubt to appease the people, in 42 B.C.E, Caesar was deified to Divus Iulius – so creating a godship for all future Emperors of Rome, beginning with his great-nephew and adopted son, Gaius Octavius Augustus. Octavius now became Divi Filius – “Son of the Divine” or “Son of God”, a title passed onto to his successor - Tiberius Claudius Nero.

"You are not a friend of Caesar!"

And herein lay the problem for Pontius Pilate. Tiberius was a brutal ruler; he did not tolerate rivals and thought nothing of throwing traitors (real or imagined) down the incredibly steep steps of the Temple of Jupiter where, according to historian Suetonius, “not a day passed without an execution.” High ranking officials, such as Roman Governors, got the 5-star treatment: A summons to the emperor’s cliffside retreat in Capri where they'd be toppled over the edge for any trace of treason!

No wonder Pilate was fearful; a factor cleverly exploited by the Jewish leaders, and one which doubtless contributed to his famous handwashing scene when Jesus – the true “Son of God” - appeared before him.

“If you release this man, you are not a friend of Caesar!” was the cry.

And Jesus’ fate was sealed.

See also:

Putting life into words: Seditious? The Lord's Prayer? (jacybrean.blogspot.com)

     

 

  

Seditious? The Lord's Prayer?

Since Jesus instituted the Lord’s Prayer (Our Father) almost 2,000 years ago, it has been recited by billions of people – sadly, often parrot-fashion with few supplicants really having grasped what this prayer means or how courageous early Christians were to adopt it. The Roman Empire which ruled when Christ walked the earth would surely have viewed it as seditious, right from its opening address: 

"Our Father in the heavens, let your name be sanctified.” 

Caesar Augustus, who was in power when Jesus was born, was known as Augusto Patri Patrae, marking his role as Father of the Fatherland and, by extension, the entire Roman Empire including Judea and Jerusalem. Augustus was not his given name but a religious title that set him apart as someone exalted and sacred....’Sanctified’.

Jesus was certainly brave in his choice of language and never held back from speaking the truth. The next thing he asked his followers to pray for was even more contentious: 

“Let your Kingdom come.” 

Rome owned the entire ocean basin of the Mediterranean, known as Mare Nostrum - ‘Our Sea’ - and no one could forget it, largely thanks to the Empire’s incredible road network and an extremely clever propaganda campaign. Travellers couldn’t fail to realise who was responsible for this amazing step forward in human history. 

In the northern part of Rome is a heap of bricks, all that now remains of a golden milestone, erected to mark Point Zero where all roads would lead. Throughout the Empire, every mile of road had a similar marker providing 4 pieces of information: The name of the ruling Caesar; the distance from the last town; the distance to the next town; and the distance from the golden milestone in Rome. These inscriptions reinforced a clear message to allcomers - “We own you now!” 

“Give us our bread for this day.” 

All Christians are familiar with the miraculous feeding of the 5,000, reinforcing God and Jesus' roles as the ultimate providers. Feeding a great crowd from just 5 loaves and 2 fish eclipsed Rome’s initiative for its 55,000 citizens - free bread. Although Ceres was the official goddess of grain, it was the goddess Annona who got the credit, personifying the Emperor’s ability to supply food to the people. The bread was not particularly good - so gritty and sandy that it filed down the teeth of consumers - and there was no fish with it, but a free loaf every day was not to be sneezed at. Every April during seeding, the people showed their gratitude with a feast to the ‘Dole Annona’. 

Not everything ran smoothly, however. Mark Antony and Augustus tried to block the Dole Annona when merchants withheld grain from the emperor to create a shortage and inflate the price. Nothing has changed!

“Forgive us our debts.”

Now this was a real red light for anyone in Rome, especially at the temple of Mars Ultor. Ancient Rome had a pantheon of gods, adopting new foreign deities of captured tribes, yet there were 12 main gods – 6 male, 6 female. In Jesus’ day, Mars was a big wheel, outranked only by Jupiter, the big Daddy of them all. Mars was the father of Romulus, the Father of Rome and he had a planet named after him, because it was red – a colour that suited this angry god of war. From Mars we also get the month of March, martial law, martial arts, Field Marshalls, and the name Mark. In ancient times, Mars was depicted with a helmet/mask that strapped under the chin and sported wings of an eagle, the symbol of Rome – headgear remarkably like that worn by Marvel’s Captain America. Priests from the temple of Mars blessed all the weapons of war – a rite still practiced today.

Ultor means Avenger, an appropriate title, as Romans, far from being forgivers, were vengeful and fierce. In fact, they had a day dedicated to vengeance – the Ides of March (15th).  Not only was this an international day to Mars, but also the first day of debt collection. It was around this time of year, after the Passover, that Jesus introduced his model prayer, which put him in Jerusalem during or just after the Day of Vengeance.  

“Do not bring us into temptation.”

With 150 holy days each year, Romans had many temptations - overeating, over drinking and whatever other indulgences appealed at the time. This made life difficult for early Christians who were viewed as ‘man haters’ for not joining in these idolatrous revelries! 

Whatever resonance the Lord’s Prayer has today, it certainly addressed some of the big issues of the day and highlights Jesus' courage and that of his disciples in making it known.

Many thanks to researcher Jemison Jepson for his help with this article.

  

Sister Prism takes on Leviathan - Extract

                  Wisteria screamed as the crocodile scrambled over the edge of the pit and began chasing her round the hall. The rest of the nunjas, including Prism, fled towards the doors, slipping and sliding as they tried to elbow each other out of the way. First to the main door was Prism, of course, but when she twisted the handle, nothing happened. It was locked! She shrieked and immediately threw herself towards the back door at the other end of the hall, skidding as she went.

"That's right, Wisteria!" she cried, "Distract him!"

“I’m doing my best, Sister Prism!”  Wisteria certainly was! Running, leaping, dodging, weaving – anything to keep away from the crocodile’s jaws.

At the back door, Prism pulled the others out of her path and tried the handle. Locked!

She growled, more from rage than terror, then raced to where the so-called 'Divinity' stood in isolated splendour. She pulled it from its base and used it as a battering ram, charging again and again at the door, howling with frustration. But it was no use, the door wouldn't budge. Not an inch. All Prism and her fellow nunjas achieved were strained biceps and a few scratches on the woodwork. By now, the withdrawal symptoms were extremely unpleasant; Prism was so desperate for a brew, she was prepared to go to any lengths to get it. 

"Help! Help!" Wisteria cried, frantically zigzagging round the floor at 90 miles an hour to escape the crocodile.

"Aaaaaaarrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!" The bone piercing war cry came from Prism who, armed with her precious divinity, charged at the beast, her skirts flying. Whether disturbed by the noise or petrified at the sheer sight of this hellish being, Leviathan stopped chasing Wisteria and was knocked senseless by a zinging blow to the head.

"Is that any way to treat a poor dumb animal!?" Unnoticed by the nunjas, Gordon had climbed out of the pit and was standing with his rope in his hand.

"Well, well!" exclaimed Prism. "Just look what's crawled from the sewers! Get him, Sisters!"

'Flight from Fernilee' is available from Amazon and Smashword

Saints - should we pray to them?

The 'veneration' and proposed canonisation of Elizabeth Prout (aka Mother Mary Joseph), one of the the latest in a long line of people granted this privilege by Pope Francis - seems an appropriate time to explore ‘sainthood'.

According to the Tridentine profession of faith, saints are now (it is believed) living with Jesus in heaven and can be invoked as an intercessor between communicants and God, while their relics and images are venerated.

One case in point is the big toe of St Peter’s statue in Rome’s Basilica. Next to the papal ring, it is arguably Christendom’s most ‘kissable’ item, with millions bowing down to press their lips against it as they make their petitions! This toe-curling practice has not only added a shine to Peter’s foot but has doubtless spread many a tummy-bug to hapless worshipers!

Saints proliferate. There’s a saint for every occasion and activity you can think of. One of my favourites used to be St Genesius, patron saint of actors, lawyers, clowns, comedians, converts, dancers, musicians, printers, stenographers and victims of torture! A former thespian, he used the stage in ancient Rome to mock Christianity - until experiencing a sudden conversion mid-performance! I dare say many luvvies (who, with the possible exception of Ricky Gervais, are notoriously superstitious!) have ‘invoked’ Genesius’ help before that nerve-racking first night. Victims of torture indeed!

So why do we have saints? The answer lies with the Emperor Constantine, who supposedly converted to Christianity in the 4th century. With previous Roman Emperors having tried and failed to contain this vibrant new religion, Constantine used a subtler approach: He simply fused Jesus’ pure teachings with Rome’s polluting pagan beliefs and practices.

Believing Jesus to be the only mediator between God and humans (1 Tim 2:5, Matt. 6:9; John 14:6, 14), genuine Christians never prayed through other intercessors, nor does scripture allow prayer to be addressed to anyone except God Almighty to whom Jesus directed his own prayers, telling his followers to do the same.

Which left Constantine with a dilemma. If Christians worshiped and prayed to only one God - whom nobody could see - what would happen to the thousands of pagan gods? Were they to be made redundant? Would silversmiths and image makers lose their livelihoods?

The solution was to re-invent Rome’s existing deities with Christians and market them as ‘Saints’. Foremost to undergo this marketing ploy was Apollo who, with his handsome features, gold halo and sun-god attributes, made a very acceptable Christ! Jesus’ earthly mother Mary became a substitute for Juno, mother of the gods and wife of Jupiter. And there have been countless other deities now posing as saints under different names.

This tweak in understanding paved the way for the Vatican to fill its coffers, as members of the flock were encouraged to buy statues, icons and various relics of their favourite saint, totally ignoring the commandment: "You must not have any other gods besides me....You must not make for yourself a carved image...you must not bow down to them nor be enticed to serve them, for I, Jehovah your God, am a God who requires exclusive devotion." (Exodus 20:3-5)