This morning, before breakfast, took a minute to read from Sirach 39
While reading, a private conversation resurfaced to active memory. During the 1990s, Father John mentioned the contrast between night and day, giving as example the Red Patriarch Justinian, called by circumstances to communicate with the Queen Elisabeth II of England. Manifesting her disdain for having to converse with Ceausescu, she asked before to open a channel with the head of the Rumanian Orthodox Church. “Why?,” asked the tyrant. Because the Queen is given the title of Supreme Governor of the Church of England and so she wished to meet her counterpart. Annoyed as she expected him to be, Ceausescu had to accept this apparently harmless proposition.
Folklore says that Justinian declined a Rolls Royce –wouldn’t Ceausescu’s Mercedes pale of envy? Asked how she could be of any assistance, he answered: Bibles. Thus the Church of England printed Bibles, in Rumanian, for the Rumanian Orthodox Church. The right man, or woman, at the right place. By day.
By night, a captured leader, like so many others playing a character in this Divine Comedy, nears the hearth and cries. Night in, night out, said his personal assistant to me, the Red Patriarch was praying with true tears, for hours at times, asking the Lord to forgive him for the day past and for the day to come.
Like the Queen was a captive to the House of Rothschild, to their reptilian cousins and masters of darkness, so the Red Patriarch was an instrument in the maze of the Ministry for the State Security, of the communist, atheist, Marxist-Leninist regime of Ceausescu. Villains here, villains there. More to reality than a James Bond movie. Perhaps the Queen had her nightly moments, like the Red Patriarch did. Who knows. What we know is that every given name mentioned above belongs to dead people.
Some went to the Lord, some to their lords, respectively.