“15 “Men, why are you doing these things? We also are men, of like nature with you, and we bring you good news, that you should turn from these vain things to a living God, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them. 16 In past generations he allowed all the nations to walk in their own ways. 17 Yet he did not leave himself without witness, for he did good by giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness.” 18 Even with these words they scarcely restrained the people from offering sacrifice to them.” (Acts 14:15-18 ESV)

Gaping non sequiturs, and the mentalist’s limits, mankind is reminded in the Hour, in her and his barracks, of Proviso, Endurance, Mental Feed from On High. The soldier, tapped in, trusted to Decisively Act and to Enjoin, to Mentalize and to Perform, is a soldier with a lighter framework, simpler Recollections, subdued Resistance to what attacks may come. We are Attacked, personally and intrinsically Subjugated and Demoralized: we are Taught wrongly or brought to Recollection unfairly, of simpler mistakes made over the years as though they were all the gospel of the hour. All that is spoken in our ear, all that is whispered in our inner sanctum and gyroscope of Personal Calm and Composure.

The willful refusal to Cope, the flipside being to walk through valleys of most shadow and death sanguine and Listening, somehow bent over backwards to Adapt and Sincerely Suffer for the erroneous sins of others, as though we had a God-given mandate to bear each other’s burdens: this ends the willful cabal, and the refusal to Cope, the refusal to accept that the mentalist’s Game is somehow fraught or incomplete if engaged upon minus Headship, Lordship, Spirit speaking to spirit. God heals our non sequiturs and helpless complaints. God heals our fraught fright factor of “What led us here, of all places?” Or the conviction, of having been criminal in times past, of having to take our lumps, of lengthy “No” spoken over remembrances and that strange way that, come the Hour to Decide, we are beleaguered and tempted, sickened and repulsed by our own angles.

For, we are Chosen and Allotted space and time and circumstance to be Decisive and to bring our Difference-Making to the Table. We are imperfect Humans made in a Complete and Intelligent Image: total ownership of the strife, total purchase of the bargain, utter togetherness of the gambit. The forwards skirmish. The sacrificial Test. Of an enemy’s mettle. Of their goat, getting their goat. Stunned at what willfulness has blocked more cool and measured calculated Endeavor. Has blocked, in the name of personal pride and hubris, the ability to assess reasonably, to see strength even in joking or plaintive “rule in the midst of the enemy” endeavors. And why, why even point out such malfeasance? Because it is a crime against the human condition, what condition respects other God-image bearers as being at least somewhat Reasonable and open to Negotiations. Not prideful. Not willful. Not in Denial.

Or we ourselves Gawk, at just how criminally-minded the world has become. We await a one-day coming together and debriefing that will never in fact occur. We see a world that sues for the right to Own All Things, because—look—so-called “all things” have been under discussion and negotiation. We see a world forgetful of the story-telling and of the Winsome invite, not to gape and accuse in the name of creating a suffering servanthood, but of being one of those forewarned: see what we did to the Christ! See too what we did to the Apostles! Let us be “one of the gang” and not do it a second time!

And, too, the fright factor that as we judge others, we too shall be judged. Let us forgive when peoples judge each others, let us allow a little give-and-take. Some small room if not for a perennial judgment, for a little allowance for finger-pointing. And the, because there is a wide gulf between Dives and Lazarus, let us go back to our Fighting Stance. To fight the battles only we seem to See. To fight the battles that others seem glib or willful about, that others refuse to acknowledge if it would mean any skin off their proud backs. Any sense of learning of a suffering Reality called imperfect “Life”. The world is indeed ours to own, our joy to live into, our celebration amidst utter ruin and loss, to walk in upon. Because of a sin-bearer named Christ. Because of a Lesson called “Where, O master, would we go? You have the words of eternal life!” (John 6:63). To be that Convert and that Disciple, who enters upon All-Potency as visaged on His Cross. All-Power as seen on that cold hill. Blathering, prophesying, come-what-may in the Joy of discipleship-unto-martyrdom. One day martyrdom, true, but First: a good dozen years of Service! Let us sue for the right to see our little Christs and Prophets Serve!