A new seer has attracted much attention in the Church recently. He or she is surrounded with mystery, but the messages have enthused many, already. The Bear takes no position on their legitimacy, but passes them along as a news item only.
Message channelled by The Servant of Light, J.B. November 19, 2015.
My children, my heart is sad for many reasons. The planet cries out in great distress. Hatred is increased as the cycle of violence returns wrath for wrath, mirroring the heat with which man's furnace boils the very seas, melting the ice caps. The final, gurgling growls of drowning polar bears mingle with the despairing groans of unemployed youth, and the lonely sighs of the forgotten elderly. I can hear all these things, my children.
I can hear the machinery of death as arms makers produce weapons, and hear them laugh as gold rains down upon them from the hands of corrupt politicians. And I hear the clamor of millions of immigrants, trapped by borders. Yes millions of men age sixteen to thirty shouting "Allahu Akbar," wanting nothing more than a peaceful place among new neighbors in a new land with good social benefits.
I can hear the cries of the Malvinas, crushed beneath the jackboot of British imperialists.
But what most grieves me is that people do not sufficiently honor my servant, through whom I send these messages to my beloved children. How sad to see him opposed by small-minded fundamentalists. They sift his every word so they may mock him! Blogs engage in the terrorism of gossip! Promethean neo-Pelagians and fomenters of coprophagia!
Be good children, not afraid to laugh, to dance, to embrace each others' soft and warm, yielding flesh and shower one another with the kisses of your tender mouths! Love one another, my children, and tear down the ancient walls that separate you! Just as any cup is like unto all cups, so all cups are one cup, and there is but one chalice for all of my children. Do not be bad children who say, "No, this is my chalice, and you may not drink!" We know that good children share their things!
I do not give this by way of commandment, my children, but as encouragement to learn, and talk to The Holy, and decide for yourself in joy. Your hearts, my children, will be your guides, and you will enter the new Church of flesh: soft, warm, pulsating and filled with the liquid music of life! The cathedrals of hard, cold stone stand as relics of a hard, cold age that, behold! is passing away!