2025-04-18 A Meditation on Preamble

“9 As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. 2 And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” 3 Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. 4 We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. 5 As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” 6 Having said these things, he spit on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud 7 and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing.” (John 9:1-7 ESV)

Crystalline, emerging Victorious, the preamble is half the battle: see that a dour rumor, an assessment, a rumor most malicious, has done its all to condemn us to some prophet of Baal’s dungeon. We are prophesied over. The elysian fields of man, woman, just “getting along”, no: it is illogic, no proper assessment and fair playing field, hierarchy sublime; no. Our pluck carves out a Reward Center minus all the baggage and minus so much accoutrement, so much gift, so much parcel for the journey. We are without so much, which was lost in the rumor-mongering, in the mouths faux agape, in the preamble.

But that isn’t what life is about. Life is our composure still unbroken. It is our healthy self-confidence still appealing for the interview, for the chance to make things right, for the feeling that, if only they’d get to know me… There is no fairness in whom and what we have to do battle with, only the removed assessor notes that the sides are vastly unequal, differing in their notion of friendship, in their more crystalline subtle tenacious gentler zones. The gentler needs protection from the masses. But also we are brawny in the right evolved sense: our finer qualities come with a punch and a pluck. We have it in ourselves to shelter and protect the crystalline, the sensitive, the neural network so abundantly sought out.

Life, also, is our deep exhale, heard throughout the organism, of Forgiving our enemies. It is some mystery wherein our own composure thereby Improves, when we forgive. No matter that they “get away with it”: it is our own grandeur, preemptive strike, that is on the enlarging, largesse most befitting. We rise up, into the status of At Peace: At Peace with those who would be mouths agape and faux horrified. The rumors, they finally dispel and though we’ve lost the farm, we still have our evolved Gifted body and soul and mind. We still have that self-confidence that says, gladly will I make new friends, gladly will I share and have shared with me. Gladly will I work in the bright light of that little cubby-hole that has Resurrected, felt resurrection pulses warping through the Body. Light for tomorrow. Pride for today. Cognisance for the hour.

We are cognisant, in this: that Christ refuted so much nonsense until it built up to a fever pitch and He had nowhere to go but to the Cross. For the sake of one awful soul’s hatred or failure to have rebooted, retried, that initial encounter and allowed the Grandiose One to show plain Love and Friendly gestures. So they could Get Along. So the people would not be stressed and bedevilled by “mom and pa” fighting. So the people would have clear leadership, leaders dutiful to portray accurately what is sin and what is righteousness. Because we need leaders. We need prophets. We need clarity of Assessment, Rumors that turn out to have been healthsome and True, wars of tomorrow that turn out to have been what we already were all dealing with, in the preamble, in the early conscientious Drive, impulse, inclination, to do a few things Now, while it is still called “Day”; we who on other occasions were laying low, resting up for the unknown, today we hear the Call to Do. Something, and that something will spell wonders for tomorrow’s battles.