“3 As he sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” 4 And Jesus answered them, “See that no one leads you astray. 5 For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and they will lead many astray. 6 And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. 7 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places. 8 All these are but the beginning of the birth pains. 9 “Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations for my name’s sake. 10 And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. 11 And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. 12 And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. 13 But the one who endures to the end will be saved. 14 And this gospel of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” (Matt 24:3-14 ESV)

The advent of New Tomorrow, plunged into night Tomorrow, may be the fruits of Christ’s claim: to be the Good Son. To reward the Father with a lockstep mentalism in His Son. And who are we, who have failed earthly fathers and mothers, have broken off and gone our own way… as if, as if these fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters, teachers and citizens were called to Accept: life is Impossible, nothing doing on the one-mind mentality.

Only this, that it is a strange Father who wouldn’t give His son a loaf of bread but rather a serpent. It is a strange Father who wouldn’t Mourn the absence of affinity, of lockstep, of intertwined Verbiage, Spoken Word, lyrical Elegance in tandem.

Advent of New Tomorrow is a Hush around things To Come. It is us plunged into the Night Season already however being Prepared, or flying by the seat of our pants, or making haste while it is still Day: haste to reminisce and thereby to Repent; haste to heal broken tomes of relationship and thereby to Meld; haste to worry about little aspects of Coming Together Ballad.

Ballad or dance number Divine, because He is somehow a Void—not so much a protrusion or obelisk intruding or rude—but His birth is Void of mature respectability, Void of headstrong Prowess; Void of militant Rule and Potency. It is a swoosh as away in a manger is sung, a vacuum as our querulous Eyes are out seeking something more In-Your-Face. Only when we ourselves are tamed and petted down, we begin to Alight upon the Christ found in the manger.

It therefore behooves us to be both At-the-Ready and able to be touched in sensitive Fashion or to be Surprised. We are soldiering notwithstanding This One’s calling to be a sensitive foray, a Man upbuilt by His circumstances and His people, a Calling to remind the lay person or civilian, that Apocalyptic tone is called for. Militant tone. Realistic tone.

And we are those Inducted into His cavalry, simultaneously to Care for, to Tend to, our broken dreams and limping Reality Observed, whilst mechanistically Strong and of able body if pushed. If pushed… we hate the scoffer as much as anybody, but with Love do respond and with Patience do educate…if pushed we claim no moral superiority, only this: that Christ bore already our Hopes and Failures on His chest, so that we might with calm sensitive Disposition come before the throne of grace.

Vulnerable… yes. We can be hurt. We are vulnerable notwithstanding that we can be hurt. We would have it no other way. But Strong… Militant… for the scoffer we remind them that we were just trying to make a point about the sensitive side: to you, O scoffer, we are steel cage and metal joints. To you, O scoffer, we remind you of prior notions, of a Created Man, Created Woman, partaking in heavenly electrical Manna and gasoline. Diesel and wattage for Bold representation of our People… including the scoffer and the unbelieving corner-dwelling loser.

We made our Peace with the Loser because he or she would not make their peace with us. We prayed for the enemy, knowing how much damage—cue our sensitive side, our availability to son, to daughter, who might simply feel that they fail to be in that role for us—a simple naysayer can bring about. So we reward the Critic, the Prophet, the Correctional Officer of morals, but Hate the coiffed or pleasantly situated Scoffer. That they ask such a high bill of lading from us. That they demand our attention when others so much more deserve it. That they think it humorous when lives are on the Line.

Christ might not have died, had a few persons been found to surgically remove. By a certain kind of father, yet not our Father: our’s lets the wheat grow with the tares, knowing come Judgment Day that all will be cut down and sorted. Our’s… He has infinite hope as to what we shall, in tandem, in community, in lockstep, bring about, our panic attacks a purr and moment’s appreciation in His eyes.