“St. Patrick’s Day Family History”

My wife (Jane) is second generation Italian. Her Father came when he was an infant with his family to America in 1929. Recently, my wife’s Aunt (her Father’s Sister) sent a letter explaining the meaning of St. Patrick’s Day to the Lombardi family. I do not record this letter for solely sentimental reasons but also in order to make a point about what happens when centralized government controls a society and culture.

Beginning quoting letter from my wife’s Aunt Josephine (Jo),

“My father, your grandfather, Jane, never let us forget the meaning of St. Patrick’s Day for the Lombardi family. For Grandpa Lombardi St. Patrick’s Day was not a day to honor a saint, but rather it was a day to be remembered because March 17, 1929 was the day we arrived, as your Grandfather would tell his children, “to beautiful America.” Your Dad, Jane, was 10 months old, Aunt Jennie was 3.5, Aunt Anna was 2.5 and I was 6 years old. Aunt Lina was born the following September.

If my parents hadn’t decided to leave Italy because of the Fascist dictator, Mussolini, your Mom wouldn’t have met and married your father, and you wouldn’t be here. Think about it, the decision of my Father to come to America affected all his childrens’ lives.

Mussolini had imposed such a high tax on sugar that it was prohibitive and my father needed sugar to run his cafe. His cafe was sort of candy store where he served coffee. It was a social gathering place for the men of the town to sit and socialize with their friends that as they drank coffee.

Because Papa couldn’t buy sugar my father would travel to Naples where he could purchase saccharin on the black market. Saccharin was against the law because Mussolini wanted to collect taxes on the sugar. I know there’s no excuse for breaking the law, but my father’s livelihood depended on the business generated from the townsmen coming to drink coffee. Well, his brother-in-law also had a cafe on the same street, about two blocks away; and my father’s brother-in-law was practically going out of business for lack of sugar and customers.

My father confided in his mother when she questioned him. Grandma was sworn to secrecy about my father’s source of saccharin. Grandma’s oldest daughter was married to the cafe owner who was jealous of my father’s business. Grandmother told, my Aunt Elvira. I’m sure that Grandma meant it for good. Grandma wanted her son-in-law to go to Naples for saccharin with her son. Instead of going to Naples though, my father’s brother-in-law turned Papa in to the police. That was the deciding factor that forced my parents to leave Italy and come to America.

I can still picture the morning the the Police came to our home with their rifles drawn to arrest my father for having possession of illegal saccharin. However, Papa wasn’t there. My Father had been warned that his brother-in-law had turned him in to the police. My father went into hiding. I don’t know where he went to escape, but I do know as young as I was, I remember telling the police to get out of my house. I knew they didn’t belong there with their rifles drawn, looking inside closets and underneath beds, pushing doors open to other rooms and looking behind doors. Eventually they left. I also remember running from my home that was a short distance from my father’s store, crying until I reached the cafe and my mother grabbed me to quiet and comfort me.

I don’t know how many days after that we left in the middle of the night for Naples to board the ship, “The President Wilson,” to sail for America. My mother told me when I’d question her that they always kept their passports up to date. That’s why they were able to leave as fast as they did.

My father, (your grandfather) every year after would tell us this story and say to us in half broken English,

“I no want you to forget the day you arrived in beautiful America on San Patreeka’s Day, 1929.”

1.) Once upon a time people came here to escape tyranny and now we are turning this country into the kind of country that my wife’s Italian family sought to escape.

2.) Oppressive taxation always creates a black market.

3.) Immoral and Illegal laws have the the effect of making the citizenry involve themselves in moral illegalities.

4.) Heavy taxation destroys entrepreneurial activity.

5.) A Collectivist society will always turn into a society where all spy upon all.

6.) The sugar tax that would have destroyed the business communicates that collectivist societies are more concerned about the state’s livelihood vs. the businessman’s livelihood.

Teasing Out Some Implications Of The Fifth Commandment

“Honor thy Father and Mother”  Exodus 20:12

It should be observed first that these few words destroy the idea of a egalitarian social order where all are functionally and economically equal. These words spell out hierarchy in social order relations. This is especially drawn out by the Westminster Larger Catechism where the meaning of the commandment is explained;

Q. 124. Who are meant by father and mother in the fifth commandment?

A. By father and mother, in the fifth commandment, are meant, not only natural parents,649 but all superiors in age650 and gifts;651 and especially such as, by God’s ordinance, are over us in place of authority, whether in family,652 church,653 or commonwealth.654

If ever there was a portion of Scripture that destroys egalitarianism it is the 5th Word of the decalogue.

Secondly, it does not stop with the support of hierarchy but in citing the core principle as starting with Father and Mother this commandment is a clear articulation of Kinism. True, the commandment ripples outward to proper respect for all superiors and inferiors but the center core is love for one’s own kith and kin. Indeed, egalitarianism with its elimination of proper social hierarchy is the inevitable consequence of a steady and resolved disobedience of the fifth commandment. Where there is no honoring of one’s parents there will be no proper honoring of even recognizing of people placed by God in the position of “superior.”

On this score, third, we would observe that it is not possible to honor one’s own immediate parents without honoring the parents that belong to the parents we are to honor. Of course this then is a reflexive glance to not only grandparents but also to all the Fathers and Mothers that belong to all our generations. This commandment thus attaches us generationally to all our parents that have gone before us and does so by requiring us to honor them all. This requirement to honor our Kin serves as adhesive binding all the succeeding generations to all the previous familial generations. Where the fifth commandment is esteemed there we find a Kinist social order.

Of course the great presupposition behind this commandment is that all of our Fathers were honoring the God of the Bible — hence the first commandment. Where our Fathers were a God honoring people, they honored their parents. As such, when we honor our Christian Fathers and Mothers we are at that point then honoring their and our God. The corollary of this is when our parents do not honor God then we are released from obligation to honor our parents where their dishonoring of God serves as a barrier to our honoring God. As converts then, we are to then take up honoring God first and foremost so that our children may rightfully honor God and us.

This brings us to a point that will be disputed given our alienist zeitgeist.
It is hard to imagine how we honor our Christian Fathers and Mothers by marrying into peoples that were aliens and strangers to our Fathers and Mothers. If our Fathers and Mothers saw fit to pass down to us not only a godly legacy but also the particular genetic inheritance of generations of a particular people it is difficult to see how it is the honoring of those generations to cast aside the genetic inheritance built up over generations and generations in order to do something (marry interracially) that in all times and places was considered verboten until about 1960 or so when the sexual revolution / civil rights revolution began to reinterpret Christianity through the lens of Cultural Marxism. Of course this principle is true for Christian peoples of all races. Interracial marriage, especially among Christians, is a dishonoring of generations and generations of one’s Christian people and past.

On this score alone we might wonder if the fact that the WASPs who once owned this country are no longer finding it to be the case that we are safe in the land that our Fathers and Mothers built? Is it not the case that because we no longer honor our Father and Mother as seen in the way that we have become comfortable with interracial marriage we no longer see the latter half of the verse being the case;

“that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.”

That our days are no longer “long upon the land” is known to us as “replacement theory.” This theory holds that the white anglo saxon Protestant is being replaced by the stranger and the alien. All I am asking is, “is the reason that we are being replaced due to the fact that we have been, for generations, no longer honoring our Fathers and Mothers as seen especially in our marriage habits as a people.”

It is worthy at least to be considered.

Barbara Ann Moree, Ella Steinhauser & The Goodness of God

My mind keeps drawing me back to remember Barbara Ann Moree.

Barbara was a little girl who was on our prayer list weekly when I pastored the small country Church in Longtown, South Carolina. Barbara had been born with a severe disability (something like Cerebral Palsy) and had been institutionalized since she had been born. Over the years in Longtown I visited Barbara several times and prayed for her weekly in the long pastoral prayer during the Sunday Service.

As near as I could tell the only family that cared and looked after Barbara was her Grandmother Margaret who was a faithful member of the small flock I served in Longtown. Margaret was a gentle lady who cared deeply for this child and it was through Margaret that I came to know Barbara Ann.

I would go with Margaret occasionally to visit the child who would have been between 8 and 10 years old when I first met her as a newly minted minister. Barbara Ann couldn’t speak or walk and showed no outward signs of recognizing people being in her presence. She was thoroughly confined to a hospital bed.

Margaret had told me Barbara Ann’s story and it was a sad one. Despite that I rejoiced that Barbara Ann had her grandmother as an advocate and so was not totally bereft of family love.

Eventually, Margaret asked me if I would baptize Barbara Ann and remembering Jesus’ words to “forbid not the children to come unto me for such is the Kingdom of Heaven,” I did indeed Baptize Barbara Ann in that lonely and sterile hospital room with just Margaret in attendance. Margaret was so grateful that day that her little broken granddaughter had been given the sacrament of Baptism.

My mind keeps being drawn back to Barbara Ann because I now have a grand-daughter that is broken much the same as Barbara Ann was. And I am learning through my grand-daughter that it is possible that Barbara Ann may have understood much more of the world than I would have thought possible in 1995 when I knew Barbara Ann. Given Barbara Ann’s condition I assumed that there was nobody home. Now I realize that it is possible that Barbara Ann was very much present in a body that was completely broken.

My Grand-daughter is likewise, to all immediate appearances, a child who one could easily conclude is completely mentally inert. Like Barbara Ann, Ella cannot walk or speak. However, as of late, because of the advent of technology and the determination of Ella to let people know that she is present, Ella has, despite her broken body, begun to blossom. She is communicating now about any number of subjects — subjects that most 12 year old little girls wouldn’t ever think to take time to comment. Yesterday, for example, Ella listened to a sermon on the sin of Grumbling and the necessity to be thankful and she responded via her technology that “I would rather know Jesus than be able to walk.”

My emotions when this is reported are mixed. I rejoice that Ella is able to communicate, however at the same time I remain deeply saddened concerning her brokenness. However, I likewise am drawn back to Barbara Ann Moree with regret and shame that I just assumed that she was completely absent and inert. Maybe Barbara Ann wasn’t home … but Ella has taught me that maybe she was.  I also then find immediate gratitude and deeper appreciation for Barbara’s Grandmother Margaret who was so faithful in caring for that child.

I am also thankful again for God’s grace to Barbara Ann in the gift of Baptism. Even if I failed Barbara Ann in not being more solicitous I can thank God for His marking out this child as a member of the covenant. The one person who was more faithful to Barbara Ann than her grandmother was our and her loving heavenly father.

I don’t know why God decided to touch both Barbara Ann and Ella and countless others. These kind of disabilities can only be dealt with by trusting that God will have a final eschatological word to say about the problem of evil in general and the problem of evil as touching particular people. The revelation of the particulars of God’s goodness in these cases will only be known on the final day. Until then, we trust the testimony of Scripture that God is good to His people without fail — and we hold tenaciously to God’s goodness even though the world might scream at us the way Job’s wife did; “Curse God and die.”

I imagine 30 years later that Barbara Ann may likely have passed away given the severity of her condition. However, I look forward to meeting her again in the new heavens and the new earth.

In all this I am reminded again how important it is to be gentle with those who are physically and mentally broken. I am also reminded to thank God for those things that come into our lives that we don’t understand and am reminded to continue to trust Him despite the fact that our senses shout at us to not trust God.

Further, I thank the benevolent God for my grand-daughter Ella. She is only 12 but I already long for the ability to trust God the way she clearly does. I thank God that He has determined that Ella would be able to thank her parents for their care and I thank God that He has given her the ability, seemingly against all odds, to be able to draw and paint. If you ever met Ella you would never be able to guess that her drawings and paintings could come from her broken and crippled hand.

Finally there is a word here about the necessity to continue to be pro-life as Christians. It would be easy to conclude that lives such as Barbara Ann and Ella are not lives worth living. Yet, God is the creator of all life and who is man that he should arise to the place of Creator and sovereign to determine who should and should not be given life? For Christians especially we should be reminded of the need to esteem and minister “to the least of these.” In light of that I thank God for Margaret and for Ella’s parents and siblings (Edward, Gwen, Winry and Alphonse). It is hard work caring for a broken and disabled child and such families do not receive the recognition that they should receive for so faithfully fulfilling their calling, as assigned by God, to the least of these. So, for whatever it is worth I salute my son-in-law and daughter and their children. I salute the Aaron Belk family who I know only a wee little bit who likewise minister to a child touched by God in this way.

And I pray for a faith that can trust God in all the hardships in life that mystify us now and will continue to mystify us until all is made clear on that final day.

01 October, 1983

On this date in 1983 in Lewiston Maine we find a world waking up to a day already beginning to feel the morning crispness of New England Autumn. The leaves are already changing upon the many trees surrounding the local Baptist Church.

The Church parking lot is filling up as the daughter of the long serving minister of that rather large Baptist Church is being wed. The groom is largely known as “Jane’s fiancé,” and after the service he will be known as “Jane’s husband,” to the inhabitants of that area.
During the ceremony one of the best men, having clipped a large and quite unflattering photo of some now long forgotten single female missionary to the inside of his suit jacket keeps flashing that photo at me during the wedding vows, opening his jacket just enough for me to catch a glimpse of Brun-Hilda while I’m trying to keep a straight face while saying my vows to Cinderella standing next to me. Thanks Rick.

We had asked Jane’s Dad NOT to use the phrase, “I plight thee my troth,” because when he had used it during the wedding rehearsal it had brought the house down. We were unlearned kids and found the phrase “plight thee my troth” to be both indecipherable and funny to the ears. I mean, I had no idea, at that age, what I was plighting in that trothing. Rev. Lombardi did promise to not use that phrase, determining to use “I promise you to be faithful,” which is a loose translation of “I plight thee my troth.” These many years later I now know that traditionally, the troth is a promise or⁤ pledge ⁢of faithfulness and loyalty between two ‌individuals.‌ It is a solemn commitment to honor and uphold the‌ vows exchanged during⁣ the marriage ceremony. In ⁤essence, the ‌troth is ⁤a​ symbol of the unbreakable bond and devotion shared between the​ couple as they​ embark on their journey together as partners in life. However, in 1983 “I plight thee my troth,” might just as well meant to me, “I promise to give you indigestion daily.”

So, we did ask Rev. Lombardi after the rehearsal not to use that phrase given its unfamiliarity to us. However, the day of the ceremony Jane and I found ourselves reciting after Rev. Lombardi, during the reciting of the vows, to “Plight our troth” to one another. My Father-in-law was a determined that no man was going to marry his daughter without “plighting his troth.”
Of course at the point in the ceremony when the plighting and trothing came up again my groomsmen found this irresistibly humorous and I could see they were struggling to keep composure. I made it through that section and 41 years later Jane and I have kept the plighted troth vow.

Jane’s Dad was first and foremost a minister. Being a minister and having a full attendance in the church the day of the wedding he could not resist announcing, during the wedding, (think kind of commercial interlude here) that the Church was holding its annual missionary conference starting later that evening (we had a morning wedding) and “wouldn’t it be nice if all the visitors attending the wedding from out of state planned on attending the Missionary conference.” Dad could never let a crowd get away.

I can still see in my mind’s eye Jane walking down the aisle on October 1, 1983. She wore a dress she had made while serving as a short term missionary in Ivory Coast, Africa. She was a vision out of some legendary fairy tale. Her beautiful Italian features were on full glow. Forty One years later today I still can not believe that I married the belle of the ball.

It’s been a great forty one years. I have repeatedly thanked the Lord Christ for the fact that “for me the lines have fallen in pleasant places.” Jane and I have faced a good number of challenges but never in our marriage. Our marriage, by God’s grace, has never been on the rocks or uncertain. Like any couple we’ve had our disagreements but those disagreements have never become more than just that. The have never become hard feelings sustained over long periods of time. I’m confident that is because she knew from the beginning that I am always right. 😉

Anyway … Happy 41st Anniversary to the finest woman who walks the planet. Having zero regrets I could only wish we could do it all over again.

And now in 2024, Jane, I once again plight thee my troth.

Addendum

There were a few other happenings that day that still remain memorable.

First, I had to tell more than a few inquiring people asking about my family, “no, that woman over there is not my sister. That is my mother.” My Mom aged very slowly.

Jane’s Mom did not approve of my groomsmen friends antics and spent the wedding rehearsal seeking to reign them in with decided disapproving looks. It didn’t work. In fairness to Jane’s mother my friends and I were a trial for anybody who belonged to the generation ahead of us. Hey, what can I say? Good wine takes awhile to age.

During the Wedding reception three of the groomsmen (Rick, Kevin, and Duane)  serenaded Jane and I with a rousing version of a few verses from the song, “I wish I were single again.” That elicited a few guffaws.

Groomsmen

Steve DeNeff — Best Man
Rick Deisler
Burt McAtee
Kevin Batman
Duane Ford
John Lombardi
Bill Johnson

Bridesmaids

Jerri Fox
Donna Fredette
Terri Lombardi
Kerry Bartley

What Christians Are Up Against

Not even in the time of the Crusades has Christian civilization been under such threat of dissolution by being conquered. In 1095 Christian civilization was hemmed by the conquering hordes of Islam when Urban II at the Council of Claremont pronounced “Deus Vult” in the raising up armies for Crusade to defend Christianity from the offensive assault of Isalmic madness that had been going on for centuries already.

Today we are in a much more dangerous place as Christians. We are challenged not only by a revived Islam, but were are also challenged by the rise of Globalism, which is an expression of the New World Order Religion of Luciferianism with its written “scriptures” called the Talmud.

On top of that we are beset with serious fifth column movement within the Church — the one Institution that should be leading the way in resistance. We not only have to fight the enemies of Talmudic Globalism and revived Islam from without, we have to fight R2K, WOKE Christianity (anti-Christian Nationalism, refusal to stand up for White Christians, embrace of sexual perversion, etc.), and Federal Vision, etc. from within.

The remnants of Christian civilization has been lulled to sleep and the hour is no so late that one has to wonder if it is too late now to awaken to beat off these threats to Christian civilization.

One thing is certain. We will not beat off these threats by prayer absent the sword. We will not defeat our enemies by pacifism. We will not push the enemy back by means of pietism. Those who desire the soft Christianity that lived off the capital won by hard and muscular Christianity in the days when Islam was rolled back and heresy meant with severe penalty need not apply. They and their descendants will be forgotten.

If you’re 30 and younger… if you want Christian civilization to survive you must learn the art of war. If you’re between 35-50 you must learn the strategy and tactics of war.

In a time soon coming, peace will not be a choice unless it is the peace of the cravenly, the coward, or the dead.