Monday Morning Meditation #39: Saul Fell on His Sword

Sorry about posting this a little later than usual for those of you on the East Coast of the USA and even father east. Normally, I post a little after midnight my time in California; however, yesterday was a very full day, and I needed some rest. So, I am posting this first thing Monday morning my time, which is well into the morning elsewhere. (There are some time disadvantages to living in California, but given all the other blessings, the timing issues that come up once in a while are not even an annoyance.)

Where I stopped reading this morning gave a new meaning for me to the expression "fall on one's sword." In I Chronicles 10, Saul's death is chronicled. (Sorry, could not prevent myself from latching onto that word choice.) When it is clear that he has lost not only his three sons in battle but also the battle itself, he kills himself, rather than being taken prisoner, by committing suicide. The means? He falls on his sword, running it through himself. The final two verses read:

"Saul died because he was unfaithful to the LORD; he did not keep the word of the LORD and even consulted a medium for guidance, and did not inquire of the LORD. So the LORD put him to death and turned the kingdom over to David son of Jesse."

Reading: I Chronicles 10: 13-14.

Meditation: The phrase about Saul dying because he did not turn to God but rather to a medium, among other other ways of departing from the Lord, reminded me that for some time I have thought about writing a post about my experiences with Tarot card reading during my many years as an atheist. Now I will write that post sooner rather than later since I cannot do much more than allude to a few associated things here in spite of the whole history rapid-fire unfolding in my memory as I meditate on these two verses.

Suffice it for me to say that I was a good Tarot card reader, as was my brother. What we predicted did happen. Every single thing, good or bad. We became pretty well known in our circles for this ability, and people we did not even know began to seek us out. Reports came that our readings even for those people turned out to be highly accurate. I used a commercial pack of cards, but my brother, Willie, preferred to draw his own. (I have about as much art talent as I have homemaking talent; quantifying either requires the use of negative numbers.)

Willie burned his cards when he came to faith many years before I did. I did not understand this at all and continued for many more years to provide readings for friends and even strangers. I never commercialized this "skill," i.e. never charged for it. I received my "reward" by a sense of satisfaction at seeing the predictions come true. After my conversion, I, being less dramatic than my brother, simply tossed the cards in the trash.

Why did I throw the cards away? Because I realized that I had been playing with something very sinister, even being manipulated by something sinister. A number of my New Age friends, who consider themselves spiritual and even in some cases faith-filled, see nothing wrong with Tarot cards and consider my "accurate" reading of them to be a talent and my repudiation of them to be too strict an interpretation of Scripture (somewhere -- and I will have to chase down the reference before I do a post on this topic -- the Bible, I believe in the NT, refers to Tarot cards as an evil). I cannot agree with my New Age friends for I have now seen Evil in other situations parading in traditional spiritual guises; those situations have only reinforced my sense that it was Satan, or some version of Evil, that was guiding the layout of the cards each time such that I was able to produce an accurate reading, i.e. a prediction that came true. What a great way to keep me from God -- providing me with the self-satisfaction that I had a bit of the greater universe under my control! (And that, along with other things and my own obliviousness to God, even though God had worked many miracles through me -- I called those Serendipity -- and had handed me a parachute every time I took a nose dive off a cliff -- I called that Luck, kept me from seeing God in my life for decades.)

That is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I must retire to private prayer, to thank God for never giving up on me and finally conking me on the head to get my attention, to praise Him for winning that battle between Good and Evil (the one that had my soul at stake), to repent not for my having turned to Evil for guidance in the past (for that I have already repented and been forgiven) but for those times that I simply forge ahead on my own and forget to "inquire of the Lord," and to ask God to keep conking me on the head when I forget the most important thing in this way. Now, as the sun is already beginning its ascent into full morning, I will spend as much time as I can in contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will now leave you to your prayer and contemplation, but first, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:
Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I hope you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts.

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs that follow the enumeration of Monday Morning Meditations on the sidebar of this blog and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.