Scarlet Robe Creations

Landscape with Moses and the Burning Bush - Domenico Zampiere (1581 - 1641 ) Pray for those who spoke the name 'I Am' from captivity. Those who have suffered without a home. Those who have been enslaved by diverse cultures who sought to destroy their name. Pray for those who have heard the prophets and painted lamb's blood on their doorposts so the angel would pass. Pray for our brothers and sisters who lower their heads and speak to the one God. Open the hearts of their enemies, for no hatred is of God, only condemnation. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

Isn't that the way it is with sheep. They know their shepherd. They will follow no other. Their shepherd's voice is a familiar song. He sings and they dance. The shepherd guides them to water and food. Starvation and thirst would be a reality if not for the shepherd. He leads them to safety, to shelter, where the wolf is frightened to go. Isn't that the way it is with sheep. The world sets its fangs on their flesh, and the weak are most oblivious to the dangers. Still, the shepherd protects. He lies prone in the doorway and gives his sheep peace. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

We wait for the Shepherd to return,                         The Good Shepherd. The man without investment, who is paid the task, flees from the flock when danger is sensed. He closes his door and stamps on the doctrine preached. We wait for the Shepherd to return,                     The Good Shepherd. The flock is scattered by the wolf. The world has come to the doorstep to devour the weak. The saviors of man are not of God, their hands do not bleed. We wait for the Shepherd to return,                     The Good Shepherd. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

The Calling of St Peter and St Andrew - Pietro da Cortona (1596-1669) We are like him, opinionated, hard working. The one who said, "Leave me... I am  a sinful man." We are like him, the one who pulls an empty net from the sea, until he follows the lead of one who should know nothing of fishing. We are like him, asked, "Who do you say I am?" First being praised for listening to the spirit and them stumbling with human emotions. We are like him. We promise to love, and we deny. We either flee when times are most difficult, or draw the sword in anger. We are like him, a man who can barely look into the tomb, a man who hasn't counted the days, a man who knows his own sinfulness, but doesn't understand forgiveness. "Do you love me, Simon, son of John?" copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

Alexander Andreyevich Ivanov (1806-1858) - Christ's Appearance to Mary Magdalene After the Resurrection This is the third day. It has no end. The blood of Friday has passed. We live in a Sunday eternal. This is the third day. The stone has fallen away. The light has returned to the world. Darkness is submissive to Him. This is the third day. There is no need for tears. He has come to Mary. She has told His friends. This is the third day. A day of everlasting joy. The world will never mourn, for those who seek His truth. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

James Tissot -The Pilgrims of Emmaus on the Road -1886-1894 It's just a road, like any road, dirt, stone, dust. It leads us to a place. It could have been any place. We were two, unimportant, except for this one scene, this one moment.  There were other travelers. Most were burdened, as we. Most were shocked by the cruelty of man, upon man. Some had been hopeful. Some had doubts. He could have stepped up beside any others. His shawl keeping the dust from his eyes. A traveler like us, no different, except for what he lacked. How is it, you do not know. How is it you are unaware. It is as if the sun has set on us, and refused to rise. This one gave us hope. This one spoke of things differently than any of the others. How is it, you do not know. It's just a road, like any road, dirt, stone, dust. It leads us to a place. It could have been any place. We were two, unimportant, except for this one scene, this one moment. We are two, joined by one who didn't seem to know. copyrigh...

Feast in the House of Simon the Pharisee by Rubens, c. 1618 Why am I asked the question.  A parable about debts.  Certainly, the man who owes a greater amount will be all that much more grateful to have a loan forgiven.  But the spectacle at the table, kneeling on the floor, crying, how does this relate to transactions of coin? You have judged correctly. Was this a test of some sort.  Do I need to be tested.  The woman, God knows what she is.  Is that the debt he refers to.  He is a prophet.  Does he not know that this is a woman who sells her flesh.  She defiles the temple of her body.  Yet he looks at her with deep compassion and looks at me like I am a student who requires to be taught a simple lesson. Simon, do you see this woman?  You have judged her to be unclean. You have walked on a separate side of the street, so that you would not pass her and fall unto the same judgement. Simon, when I came to your house my feet were dust...

Sing, when all others have gone silent. Sing, words of your persecution. Sing, syllables appealing not to man. Sing, when you are told to be silent. Sing, when the archer's arrow flies. Sing, when the temple is left in ruin. Sing, when praise is your last breath. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr.