4 am wakening

She told me that if you wake between 4 and 5 am it's spiritual.  I'd always thought it was the 'early morning wakening' of depression.  I 'm in a Communist country where freedom of speech has fallen.  Everywhere the making of a police state rises. There's less truth and the judges don't condemn perjury.
"Remember that song of the sixties, Donovan, "Beatniks are out to make it rich, must be the season of the witch." She said, "It's been going around in my head."
We'd been talking about the solar eclipse. Auspicious times.  Great celestial events.  Wars and rumours of war.
I"m wrapping myself in the St. Patrick's Breast Plate prayer, "I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, Through belief in the Threeness, through the confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation."
"I arise today Through the strength of Christ's birth with his Baptism, Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial, Through the strength of his resurrection with His ascension, Through the strength of the descent for the judgement of doom ......"
Then I cut to the chase, fly forward to the most comforting part,
"Christ with me, Christ before, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise, Christ in the heart of Everyman who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me."
"I arise today Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, Through the belief in the Threeness, Through the confession of the Oneness of the Creator of Creation."
I am calmed somewhat.  I would meditate for hours like I've done before.I'd return to that little room with my friends where weekly we'd chant together then sit in silence, hardly knowing one another but year after year month after month gathering to sit in silence.  I long for those times. Times before the later storms. I remember the lulls in the war. I remember so well the gathering of skills and forces.
Then the winds are on me again. The hurricane is everything.  I've battened down all the hatches and cling to the mast tied to the boat as it's flung about the raging seas that rise again and again and crush me alone in the darkness and rain.
"I arise today Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, Through the belief in the threeness, Through the confession of the Oneness of the Creator of Creation."
I know it's the trusting again. I know I've opened myself a fraction and felt the vulnerability of human kind. I've asked for help. A minor thing really to any other. But I've let them near.
I dreamed of my father and my brother and my mother and my aunt. I know it's bad when they gather.  In the past it was my aunt. She died first and would come to me in my sleep where I was scared and alone and thinking of dying.  Then my mother and father died and they joined her. Sometimes they're alone or together.  When my brother died he joined them.  I awoke to the sweet memory of their presence inside me.  They comfort me.
There's nothing better than the dogs. The dogs sometimes come. I wake and my face has been licked by my former canine friend.  If it's a tough night and I wake with sweaty and afraid my dog Gilbert is there beside me, his little body nestled close to me, reminding me.
I'm not alone. We're not alone.
My dafault channel is 'self pity' and 'anger'.  I'm an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. I don't trust well. Betrayal has been by friends.  Callous in the end.  I've been misunderstood.  The communications have broken down. I've been 'beat up and battered round'. The lyrics of the Travelling Wilbury song "Handle Me With Care" come to me.  Handle me with care, I beg, I plead, I warn.
This morning I just woke from a dream where I was with family, alive again, not dying.  There was no war and the government wasn't trying to kill it's citizens. I don't know who it is in government. There's money in death.  Someone is a collector.  It's like those science fiction tales  where the aliens have made a pactwith some of the government leadership to collect the spirits of the dead so cause death to occur through disease or war.
The fentanyl epidemic is upon me.  Talking daily to men and women who don't return. I learn from a call from the coroner.
"I'm just collecting information.  We think it's an accidental overdose."
You think. I go through the motions.  Share my last memories.  I'm important for a moment.  I knew the deceased. I'm worried that I didn't do enough. There's never enough time. The government police doctors stand with guns at our back and send us out into the front lines. I'm always reminded of that Russian movie with the sniper. The new recruits are unloaded and sent to the front against tanks and machine guns. They don't have guns.
"Get weapons off the dead," the comrade capitan tells them.  Then he stands perfect and safe, back from the front, holding his gun to shoot in the back any troops that waver.
That's the committees we get today. Rows of leaders with guns and alibis.
"I hardly knew him, " i say. Always guilty. What more could I do.
My friend died, I'm thinking. I could have gone for dinner one more time if I'd known he was going to die.
I've always blamed myself.
"Get down off the cross we can use the wood."  I'm always looking over my shoulder now.  The last judge I met was insane, drunk as a skunk and loud and psychotic.  But I must trust the position. In the rule and order there can be a weak person in a position of power but the position is good. Don't fight City Hall.  Right now the Prime Minister scares me, truly scares me, like King George the Third must have been frightening. But it's an individual, not the system.  It's the externalizations, too, of all your inner fears.
What we fear outside is what we have not faced inside.  It is what someone represents. It's the monsters from the childhood fears that come back to haunt. Not the real individuals.  I am still afraid. The rationalizations don't get me out of bed. I am prone to the fetal position.  I'm afraid of being homeless, pushing shopping carts on the street, not having toilet paper, smelling, having no where safe to sleep, having lice and bed bugs.  I am afraid of theft in the night, gangs, rape, losing organs.
Then. I think of 'principalities'.  There is such failures of the authorities. A man kills my dog.  Another threatens me for a year, intermittently like a Chinese water torture. The emails come.  "I will kill you and I will kill your dog."
I have been protecting my dog for a year and more.  He's lost his eye.  The hatred I've attracted in my work, doing the right thing, believing, serving, refusing to support violence, reporting the pedophile, having the guns removed, refusing the drugs that will make the individual more dangerous.  I'm a bulwark against the sea. It bashes relentlessly.
The beurocrat always comes to mind. Her insanity. Her power and the abuse of power as she stood before me and said in that haughty whining voice, "Women don't lie about sex."
I am in a jail and I want to run away but I don't believe there is any escape and I know too well that women lie about sex. Women lie, Men lie. Humans lie.
Even today I faced a man and unravelled lie upon lie until i found his history of violent past and wondered how I'd come to this place again.  Faced with his fear and violence in a room with help so far away remembering being held hostage and threatened that night. It flooded back.
But I don't mind him. I'm scared. It's right to be scared. He's scared. But the beurocrats they really frighten me. They're so far from reality a homing pigeon couldn't find them. They have lost their centre. They're as sick as today's media.  There is surprise everywhere. Upheaval. Those who claim to known don't.  The uncertainties have never been greater. So the beaurocrats who have lived their lives in terror staying as far from reality as one dares, congregating in packs, joining with others in echo chambers , packed lemming like together in offices of distrust and deceit, reassuring themselves, mutually, seeking ever for scapegoats.  Always they sacrifice virgins and novices and let the blood out of the jugular before they eventually eat the corpses and secretly wipe their chins and smile.  Eyes glowing.
"No in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Paul had a flowery tongue. He was a great orator.  He believed and was persecuted.  I fear persecution. I have been baptized.  I've felt the sprinkle of holy water and have been immersed in the river of Jordan. But even bathing in and swallowing copious amounts of hyssop hasn't left me purified. I'm barely sanctified. I'm not even sure at times what the words mean and too often I feel that experience of being alone before that other experience of unsurpassing joy and connectedness with divine.
I'm held in the arms of love. I'm again a babe in the lap of my mother.  Pieta.
"For by him all thing were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him."
"And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.'
Ephesians 6:12 "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers , against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."
I know this.  I never feel evil in my fellow man but see the sickness. I would free them from disease. I believe in death that I am released from this corporeal form and live on in spirit, in Grace.  This is a passing phase and limited time in an eternity of timeless time.  I am only now on the surface of things.
There is victory and reassurance in these phrases of Paul but earlier in John Jesus says, "I will not speak much more with you, for the ruler of the world is coming and he has nothing in Me."
That's the rub as Hamlet would say.  The "ruler of the world".  Obviously that was then before Jesus died. Before as the old timers said, 'there victory in the blood."
I just learned that Steven King recovered from alcoholism. I too am recovered from alcoholism. I once got drunk and escaped this world in 'demon drink' and felt the illusion of peace for a time only to return to having greater anxiety.
Now I awake in the night and am comforted by my dreams but anxious to face the day.  I fear I'm not a very good Christian. I'm partial to all the character flaws that are called sins in the old language. I especially like gluttony, sloth and lust and anger and envy.  Pride is my go to place. But I know pride goeth before the fall so I'm ever on the watch for Murphy's law. I'm the Fool in the Tarot deck ready at any moment to step off the preciprice.  I strive for wisdom and peace and calm and then a moment passes and I realize I've trusted again, that I've opened myself a little. I feel the scars pulling where the previous wounds were made. I let someone touch my back today where the untouchable is and the wounds reside.
"Et tu, Brutes".  His friends gathered round him and stabbed him over and over again in the back.  I am partially healed.
John says, that "They will wage war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will triumph over them because he is Lord of Lords and King of Kings - and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers."
I 'm tired again. I'm going to go back to sleep for another hour of rest before the work day begins.  My dog is asleep. He will wake me as he does by licking my face and cuddling. I can look forward to that. I don't know what came over me this morning. The first dreams were so wonderful but then I thought of this world and became afraid again. Now I'm comforted. There is always comfort in the scripture. Yet I don't read it enough,. I am reminded sitting around the table at St. John's discussing the teaching of Jesus with the other men and women and how comforting this was.  We gather together to read and discuss another book too that first was written by men who together believed in this good book.
I'll go to bed again. I've self soothed. Thank you Lord.   Thank you Jesus.  Thank you Mom.

St Patricks Day Reminiscences

On lunch break from working at the Doc-Side methadone clinic I took Gilbert for a walk in nearby Gastown.  A couple of Irish girls at the Irish pub were selling hats and tiaras. I bought one for myself and some for the staff.  The Filopinas  looked great in Irish.
I enjoyed the music and celebration on the streets.  I have tickets to visiting U2.   I’ve always loved St. Patrick’s Breastplate Prayer.  Christ above me, Christ behind me.... I only wish I’d had a green jacket for Gilbert to celebrate the day.  He’s definitely my personal leprechaun.
I’d just read the history of Irish Slavery. In many cases it was worse than the slavery of blacks but history excludes it's mention regardless of the horrible treatment and high death rates.  Partly it's because the 'brand' of 'slavery ' is racist and the rampant slavery that continues today by blacks of blacks and the fundamental slavery in the moslem worlds doesn't fit the 'racist' narratives of modern media.  Even the 'black Irish' those whose blood was heavily influenced by Spanish don't count.  The forgotten masses that followed the potato famines are of no account.  In the US they've had a Kennedy and an Obama so perhaps this era is finally behind us.  Today's main slavery is 'sex slaves' and it will be some time before the great armchair debaters of historic issues will let the light shine on the darkness that threatens girls and young boys from all over the world.
Laura and I are planning on visiting in Ireland in June. There’s a conference in Trinity I want to attend for a day.  We watched the great movie, Michael Collins starring Liam Neilsen and Julia Roberts.  Theres the whole history of Irish independence from England and the later Troubles to consider.
When I was working in England the IRA were bombing.  Baiba, my wife at the time, was working across from a building the IRA bombed.  Glass hit her face.  It was a frightening time. Working at the television studio I was evacuating weekly because of bomb threats.
Grand dad was from northern ireland, an Orange Man.  Protestant.  My brother Ron found his grave when he travelled there a few years back with his lovely wife. Mom was fond of her Irish roots.
I early followed more my father’s father’s Scottish roots, the Aberdeen connection and my Glasgow grandmother with the aunts and uncles and cousins we all learned to love.
 I think  Ireland seemed more a foreign country to me because being protestant, once the Catholics took over, it seemed the IRA had one.
Laura’s Catholic and her great grandparents married in St. Patrick Cathedral.
In a way I think I thought of St.  Patrick’s Day  as more a Catholic victory celebration than a day of celebration of Ireland and St. Patrick.  This St. Patrick’s Day, for the first time I thought of Ireland as Ireland, beyond all division, a place of people.  My desire to finally go to Ireland is a decision to own my roots.  I don't so much think of Christians as divided either coming back from Istanbul where the 21st century confronts not the Moslems but the 15th century jihadists . In Istanbul I met moderates and secularists and Christians and Buddhists and enjoyed the spiritual movement which puts division secondary to inclusion.
I think too that the alcoholics I befriended once in my youth were Irish Catholics and I got a skewed view of Irish as drunken stupid louts who’d betray their grandmother for a tot. Now I know that alcohol and drugs reduce any human to the beast and reptile so I’ve separated Irish from their downfall with drink.  Ireland today is a land of monasteries and literature, the arts and industry, not a place of breweries and strife.
Indeed I’d argue that so much of the Irish ‘troubles’ and fighting had as much to do with booze as it did with politics. By comparison more sober  Canada and Australia gained home rule and independence from England without the use of the very jihadist tactics which we condemn as ‘terrorism’ today. Admittedly America,  India and Ireland  paved the way for us younger sons and daughters indeed.
It’s been difficult for us all to accept the mutual unravelling of civilization that occurred with the Irish, Prods and the British military.  I enjoyed the movie Michael Collins as it captured the highs and lows of this struggle, the guerrilla wars and the internal betrayals.
In the end Michael Collins wasn’t killed by the British or the protestants but by fellow IRA’s.  Jesus himself was betrayed by his disciple Judas.  In the same way, personally I find that the enemy is me as often as it is you or them.
Today we know that war is only profitable for the war machine at the cost of the men in the front.  Further, the chance of being honourably killed by the enemy is slim because a third of those killed are killed by ‘friendly’ fire while another third are killed by rank stupidity of the leadership like Hitler sending his troops into Russia without proper winter clothing.  Only a third of those killed can even hope to be killed by the enemy.  In days gone by it was more likely you’d die from cholera or other diseases including syphilis, a great scourge of soldiers.
Obtaining my master in divinity I’ve been following the ecumenical study of Christianity and comparative religions.  Embracing the Orthodox in Moscow and Istanbul I was ready to study the Celtic Christian tradition with it’s Scottish Iona connection.  The mysticism of the Sufi’s and the mysticism of Hinduism and Buddhism connected with that celtic ‘fay’ nature that is celebrated in the monastic traditions of Ireland.
St. Patrick advanced Christianity in Ireland mostly by developing the monasteries with their Abbott rule and the importance of the Christian school.  St. Patrick had been influenced by Ambrose and Origen and the Dessert Fathers.  Meditation was central to the teaching of the saints of Egypt.  In Cappadocia I visited one of the famous monasteries and schools of the day similarly influenced.  Now I look forward to visiting the monasteries that kept ancient education alive and celebrated learning.  The church has been always so central to education and medicine.
In contrast to the modern media misinformation the church kept the light of learning burning through the dark ages.  The great book, How the Irish Saved Civilization records how the monks of Ireland taught the political bullies who had taken over Europe.  Politics and war not religion reduced Europe to the Dark ages.  ISIS today is not Moslem but more a bunch of killers and very creepy people who want to have sex with underage girls and cloak it in the respectability of religion.  ISIS has killed more real Moslems than Christians or Jews.
The Celtic monks continued to reproduce the writings of old, passing on the learning and being the photocopiers of their day as well as recording the ongoing teaching.  I so look forward to seeing the famous Book of Kells.
In the Bible the celts are the Gallatians.
The Danish Vikings though brought freckles and red hair to Ireland.  My mother and brother are red headed and I was actually entered into a freckle contest as a child.  I suspect my nautical ways have something to do with the piratical genes I came by honestly this way.
We just watched the movie Calvary about the sacrifice of an Irish priest.  I’m reading a study of Celtic Christianity and was thoroughly annoyed at the Pelagius and Augustine Debate.  Pelagius of the so called “Pelagian Heresy” was from Scotland and believed children were innocent at birth and celebrated women as equal. This offended the Roman African Augustine who literally attacked and hounded Pelagius in a horrible way giving us ‘original sin’ and “infant baptism’ instead.
John Smyth centuries later would break from the Anglicans and stop infant baptism insisting only adults could make the conscious decision to renounce sin. The Baptist Church now is a hundred million and in the United States is the largest protestant communion against the Catholics. I was raised Baptist, became United, then Anglican and am in my own way looking back through my own personal religious journey.  Ireland is definitely a stop on that journey.
Now it’s time to get to work.

Saint Patrick's "Breastplate" Prayer

One of the greatest prayers of Christendom is the Prayer of St. Patrick. His story is one of great faith and perseverance. The Catholics and Protestants of the emerald island inheritted the great character and work of St. Patrick, Patron Saint of Ireland.

"I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through the confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation."

This is the greatest of protection prayers. In this prayer St. Patricks wards off all evil and wrongness. Apparently through his life there were many attempts to kill him and as any man of integrity and honour and faith he made his fair share of enemies. Only the irrelevant and weak are without controversy. The conquered and coopted are already ensnared. St. Patrick stood his ground and lifted his head above the utter debauchery and bickering of his day.

"I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the Judgement Day.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innoscence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men."

St. Patrick knew that we were part of an unseen spiritual war. He called upon the legions of angels and helpers that would join in our struggles if only called by prayer.. In the present seen world it was the deeds of righteous men that had made this world safe with order and law of more than  bullies, psychopaths, sociopaths and their gangs. In the day of St. Patrick there was chaos in Ireland with every valley ruled by bandits and thievery, rape and pillage were the neighbourly way. People literally dared not go out on the streets for fear of the gang wars and the utter devilish debauchery of the day.  The corruption in the courts of the local Kings and Queens was everywhere.

"I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock."

"I love that Celtic Christianity is rooted in the world of Nature. The laws of nature were indeed seen as akin to the spiritual laws forming the basis between the alliance of science and spirituality today. There would be no Galileo being put to the stake in Christian Ireland because there has always been such a reverence for the truth found in the world around us. The Celtic Catholic and Christian celebrates the right nature and finds inspiration there as well as in scripture and church hall. It was indeed the Irish monks that saved civilization from the devolution of tribal thinking and internecine warfare. It's ironic in fact that some Irish would "own" St. Patrick as their own "tribal" motif reduced to a drunken footballer rally when his message was eternal and universal. Celts are known for their fayness, that capacity for seeing beyond the mere physical. This is indeed lost with the drunkeness that is such a curse in the Irish and the Irish diaspora.

"I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's words to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me
From the snares of demons,
From the temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me.
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on y left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of everyman who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
through the belief in the threeness,
Through the confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation."

When I read St. Patrick's Breast Plate and when I hear songs like "Give me that Old Time Religion" and think of the core beliefs of Christianity and reflect on the true believers and those who practice their faith fearlessly, I understand why cannibals feared Christians.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

St. Patrick's Day Ottawa

Wikipedia has this to say of St. Patrick's Day, the day that celebrates the coming of Christianity to Ireland.

Saint Patrick's Day (Irish: Lá Fhéile Pádraig, "the Day of the Festival of Patrick") is a cultural and religious holiday celebrated on 17 March. It commemorates Saint Patrick (c. AD 387–461), the most commonly recognised of the patron saints of Ireland, and the arrival of Christianity in Ireland.^[1] It is observed by the Catholic Church, the Anglican Communion (especially the Church of Ireland),^[2] the Eastern Orthodox Church and Lutheran Church. Saint Patrick's Day was made an official feast day in the early seventeenth century, and has gradually become a celebration of Irish culture in general.^[3]

The day is generally characterised by the attendance of church services,^[3][4] wearing of green attire^[5] and the lifting of Lenten restrictions on eating, and drinking alcohol,^[5][6][7] which is often proscribed during the rest of theseason.^[3][5][6][7]

Saint Patrick's Day is a public holiday in the Republic of Ireland,^[8] Northern Ireland,^[9] Newfoundland and Labrador and in Montserrat. It is also widely celebrated by the Irish diaspora, especially in places such as Great Britain, Canada, the United States, Argentina, Australia, and New Zealand, among others. Today, St. Patrick's Day is probably the most widely celebrated saint's day in the world.^[10]

I had khaky green green shirt. I put Gilbert's Canucks sweater on him. The green trim is distinctive. I worried though about the Ottawa Senators and Toronto Maple Leaf fans seeing him and feeling jealous.  It was St. Patrick's Day. Andrew had arranged breakfast at Cora's in Kanata with the rest of the nephew's and Tanya.  Andrew arrived in his Paddy t shirt.  After a great breakfast we took Allan along with us to visit dad. Again he enjoyed having Gilbert's company.  Leaving Gilbert with Andrew and Graeme Laura and I went downtown to tour the parliament buildings. The streets were a blaze with green. I liked the Orange in the flag. My maternal grandfather was an Orangeman and marched in Toronto's Orange parade.  Laura's catholic. I'm protestant.  When anyone passed I cheered "Hooray for the Orange and Green".  I figured that's what St. Patrick himself  would have liked. Ireland is united and peace restored to that Christian land..
The Troubles are supposedly over. There's still the IRA sympathizers. No doubt they contributed to Britain granting the country freedom but Canada never had to resort to the kind of terrorist violence the Irish took part in.  Alot of the commonwealth gained independence without so much drama or bloodshed.  Ghandi certainly made his statement. Australia, like Canada, seemed to work things out more maturely.  Unfortunately government commonly only negotiate with moderates when there are extremists forcing them to negotiate at all.
Probably all the violence in Ireland could be explained by the alcoholism there alone.  Alcohol and violence go hand in hand.  A reading of the Alcoholic Republic certainly explains the US revolution as readily as dispute over Tea.  Now even the Irish are trying to get a handle on their drinking problems.  An utter waste all the domestic violence there.
But St. Patrick's Day is a day of celebration of the great celtic nation. I love my own Irish heritage. I'm a product of Scottish and Irish heritage glad for the fay of Celtic blood and the sober frame of mind that goes with the best.
St. Patricks story is one of my favourites and best told in the grand book, "How the Irish Saved Civilization."  I love especially St. Patrick's Breastplate Prayer.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through the belief in the threeness,

Through confession of the oneness

Of the Creator of Creation.

I arise today

Through the strength of Christ's birth with his baptism,

Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,

Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,

Through the strength of his descent for the judgment of Doom.

I arise today

Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,

In obedience of angels,

In the service of archangels,

In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In prayers of patriarchs,

In predictions of prophets,

In preaching of apostles,

In faith of confessors,

In innocence of holy virgins,

In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven:

Light of sun,

Radiance of moon,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of wind,

Depth of sea,

Stability of earth,

Firmness of rock.

I arise today

Through God's strength to pilot me:

God's might to uphold me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to guard me,

God's way to lie before me,

God's shield to protect me,

God's host to save me

From snares of devils,

From temptations of vices,

From everyone who shall wish me ill,

Afar and anear,

Alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,

Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ to shield me today

Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that there may come to me abundance of reward.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,

Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ on my right, Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through belief in the threeness,

Through confession of the oneness,

Of the Creator of Creation.

[edit]