Under The Olive Tree

Death is a Hunter

Death of a Nation

“What’s going to happen now? - Darkness?” The night was falling around us but in a very different way than our memory could recall.

The images, the shadows that stalked our awakening were upon us - closing in, surrounding us - hedging our escape. The air was stifled - like the screams within us - unutterable - silent - overpowering.

Our eyes had seen tragedy unfold around us - we had watched while those that dared to had stretched forth their hands - some holding them out in gestures of peace - others reaching for a new understanding - some placing their hands directly against the streams of stagnant pollution that had begun to flow freely into the streets - all desiring a better existence.

Beggars, bums, the handicapped and mentally ill, the poor and destitute - the starving - those of a different color - and the soldiers of war; all pawns of an unseen captivity - and the consumers - mere reflections of themselves, like hideous puppets on strings manipulated by unseen hands - at times to be abhorred but in tenderness to be pitied.

And there among us - in plain view - the enforcers and the gatekeepers - like brute beasts - feeding themselves without fear - or masquerading and gathering intelligence for the captivity and the slaughter.

We were alone - and darkness was upon us - there, alone - scattered in the night, lost to one another - our bearings reckoned on a false compass - our guiding star obscured - isolated in fear and suspicion.

We stumbled - at what we knew not - sometimes falling, - staggering to our feet - groping in the darkness.

And the dawning? A strange quality in the light - surreal - no longer sustaining - devoid of warmth and beauty - senseless - demeaning - a harsh reality - stark in its intensity, …

We joined step with the bewildered and the injured - and we hid our faces from the devastation around us - walking for walking’s sake - with no destination or truth greater than ourselves - although we suspected that there was something more - something sinister in the events that had left us - shipwrecked and abandoned on this thankless and desolate shore.

And then began the mantras of our deep indoctrination - and more shocking and repulsive happenings than we could have imagined in our innocence and idealism - the revelation of the Wicked and the Divine.

The sinews of our nation had been severed - our hands clasped in an effort to control our inner disbelief and rage - now casting a quick sideways glance for any avenue of escape - now lowering our eyes at the confrontation and scrutiny of a diminished but ever more powerful guard who had suddenly risen up among us.

Through the Plastic Window

And it was then that a new development erupted - as if the very dams had burst their sheer retaining walls. It poured forth - but not as an abundance - no - more like a growth or a cancer.

There was a semblance of the texture and qualities of the treasures we had once held in our hands - but something was missing. - like an elusive memory - haunting - tantalizing - just on the tip of our tongue - but never revealed enough to slake our thirst.

It was as if we had traversed some ocean - or a fast flowing river - only to arrive on a foreign shore, that - though undetectable to our senses - held a mockery of our true selves. The essence had changed - while the outward teased us with its manufactured similarities - the emptiness echoed our deepest and most inner dread - what was this? where were we? where were we headed? what was held in store?

At times there were glimpses of the treasured reality we were longing for - but as time passed - these seemed to fade and become more distant - they had less substance - and then even the ideas that they embodied began to change and dissipate. And the plastic world that surrounded us seemed to come alive - it spawned and propagated - and everyone - no, not everyone - nearly everyone became caught up in the expanding dream that we had entered - or was it a nightmare?

And the toys and playthings seemed to come from everywhere - they were cheap and the merchandise of appeasement - hawked from every corner and endorsed by every icon of a heralded awakening and development. The stars in our firmament had become painted and cast - and many of the most wise and insightful voices had ceased from our midst - but like children - we played and sang - and as a people we labored in vain, and we embraced a vision, a viewpoint and a pathway of no return.

And we called it Progress.

Few could argue effectively or contradict the onslaught - after all - it had afforded us an unparalleled opportunity to indulge ourselves - and indulge we did. It was truly unprecedented.

The miracle of a modern intelligence was unleashed - and like some ravenous beast leaping from its cage - it ripped and devoured - and we stood in amazement, awe and horror. The secret knowledge of the ages opened unto us - and the power of the gods was given unto men. - and the human race went forth conquering. Our technologies transformed our world - and the doors opened for the management and manipulation of our destiny.

And the wind that had started from a gentle breeze became a gale - and the gale rose up, twisting and writhing in its fury - and it became a whirlwind - and the lightning bolts shredded the sky - and the voices began - and the anthems were raised - and the sirens began to sing.

The quiet of our souls molested, - nay, … - ransacked, plundered, raped and delivered to the flames.

Staring into the Abyss

Crossing Sacred Boundaries

Our brilliant writers have explored

The height and depth

And hidden lore

With simple tools of ink

And pen

And parchment

There exposed the secrets

And the feelings and the colors

Of both love and hate

And life and death

And Mankind’s fate

Released the fragrance of the rose

And deeper still

The stark reality of Truth

The touch of Love

The seeing eyes

The ears that hear

The soft and subtle sighs

Of wind in trees

And children’s cries

All unfolded and exposed

For us to see

And other men with brutal knives

And feigned respect

Have separated flesh and bone

Profaning sanctuaries

Yet unknown

To delve where hand

And eye and heart

Forbid to go

And bringing forth

Without remorse the hidden

Intimate

To proclaim

Their understanding

And their fame

And then with garments stained

Defiled and soaking with decay

To walk among us

Non amiss

Heads held in pride

And then to gaze

On the Abyss

The fascination for knowledge was not only seductive - it became our addiction. Lesser men - like lesser gods; could be satiated with substance abuse = but for those of understanding and for those that perceived - the acquisition of the power of the manipulation of the secrets of the universe - though elusive at first - became an undeniable destination - a right of passage to an intellectual elite - those destined to rule the world, its resources - the very soul of the planet Earth.

It was this hunger that had brought us to the Precipice - the heights and depths had taken hold and mankind’s fate was held by those who had - in all their pride, set themselves to wager flesh and bone and all posterity on morbid bets of their own selves and our collective destiny.

This fascination for Evil - though long endured and contemplated - purged and scorned and at the time of our most glorious accomplishments - and in our dreams - eradicated; was given leave - the very hand of God and all restraint removed - and now the radiant glow, the flames and endless depth of the Abyss cast its spell upon the prince and master, the rabbi and the king - and all beheld the fearsome throne and power that embracing it would bring.

The Charlatans, the Astronomers, and the Chaldeans

You might think that we are going to talk about the Chaldeans and the Astologers - but we aren’t.

“Then spake the Chaldeans to the King … O’ King, live forever; tell thy servants the dream, and we will shew the interpretation.” - Belteshazzar the Mystic 2:4

If you believe that the most prominent and learned among us have attained true understanding - then you might have reason to pause.

When you unlock the zip file - there can be cause for celebration - unless, of course, the main file is encrypted with PGP - good luck.

Our quest for the knowledge and understanding of our green and blue sphere of life had proceeded unabated for some centuries. It started with the obvious - or should we say - the ever present - the sun and moon, the stars, the tides, the seasons of planting and harvest, and the seasons of the soul, birth and growth and adversity and death.

The Astronomers charted the movement - like a finely tuned mechanism - a beautiful watch - they understood that there must be some significance in the nearly perfect repetitions - and they honored the accumulation of their discoveries with monuments and hand-held treasures - the Pyramids, Stonehenge, and the Astrolab.

They parented our physical sciences - and we applauded ourselves for our keen insight - we understood gravity, inertia, friction, mass and with our great knowledge we made ourselves the masters of the energy of the atom - unleashing a destructive force so dreadful and awesome that it shadowed our very expectations of life - and threatened to extinguish all hope and desire for a future generation.

But we were just beginning to uncover the fabric of our existence.

Each new technology opened a new door - a portal of discovery - and we were mesmerized - as we entered courtyard inside courtyard - each unfolding a new universe - until we could imagine the Universe itself as a tiny speck.

The crude spectacles of ocular correction bore the telescope - and the telescope bore the microscope - and the refining fires of war honed our instruments to a razor; and we conquered the boundaries of time and space and the elements. And we used them like deformed children finger-painting on paper and building and demolishing stacks of wooden alphabet blocks.

But did we truly understand? - or had we only succeeded in dusting the surface or opening a window to dimly view what treasure lay within? Was our pursuit cradled in wisdom and mercy and truth? - or were we merely playing with the miracle of fire - and setting ourselves on a course to destruction - and on a path of no return?

The Charlatans had convinced us otherwise - for their’s was to fabricate, and to bring forth with wit, and to present with illusion. And they were paid handsomely for it.

The simple among us, often scorned for their lack of sophistication - were gullible and easy prey for the Charlatans. They were trusting souls - who always gave the benefit of the doubt to those deceivers - and even when they had been used and abused and cheated - continued to hope that charity and kindness were the best course of action.

But not the Charlatans.

The Charlatans were content to make merchandise of every object or personage - and that without remorse and without regret. They were cold-hearted at best - if they had a heart indeed - and their commerce stained all who brushed up against their stalls of vanity and pomp - leeches they were - selling themselves to the highest bidder.

But the Controllers needed them to hide their true intentions - which were all about self - self-realization, self-fulfillment, self-awareness, self-understanding, self-promotion, and the supreme self - the self available to the meanest and most depraved - self-indulgence and self-love.

And the Controllers? - The Chaldeans of course. These were mystics indeed - who borrowed their estate from a higher power and greater dominion. Sold in soul slavery - they had requisitioned a temporary office - and a transient domain.

“O King, live forever!” - these deceptive souls did not hesitate to suborn and purloin - for they had rather ascend the throne for a passing season - than to walk in truth and love - the Chaldeans were pimps - willing to bind in chains and slavery any and all who could in any way advance or challenge their office and influence - and none escaped their treacherous and devouring dominion - all, both rich and poor, and strong and weak, the prince and those of low estate, the virgin and the babe of love - were meat and prey - to torture and abuse - to flames or strangled death - the Chaldeans were to be feared, and honored and obeyed.

And yet - they themselves served.

For though they held sway before the people - they came groveling and in obeisance to their Dark Lords.

The Pits of Hell are Opened

“And I saw the grates and barred gates cast aside, and they opened the pits of Hell through their transgressions - and their defilements - and their defiance - and their lust.” -The Fool (Fin McCool)

The pleasant morning had slipped away, - unnoticed; for the noontime had brought a disquieting rumor of a coming storm - By late afternoon the clouds had gathered and there arose an undertow of the mighty wind that lay bated and pregnant on the horizon. When the storm broke in its fury - we headed into the uncertainty of darkness - and of night - our course set by dead reckoning - loath to tread the deepening waters - we abandoned hope of another dawn - and we sailed on into the unknown. - Captain’s Log

For centuries the balances had tipped first this way - and then that. We had reached for the stars in a glorious endeavor to fulfill our potential and to realize our birth right, and our inheritance - we were the human race. Our dreams and aspirations had ascended to heavenly heights - and our manifest destiny was proclaimed in song and sculptured in stone. - we surrounded ourselves with the prolific works of our own hands, beauty, majesty, magnificence and wonder. We reveled in our abilities, we laughed, we danced and we embraced.

But there were evil days, days of a gross inner darkness that we could not control - brutality, cruelty, murder, genocide, violation, mankind exterminating one another.

But the invisible boundary kept evil from conquering - the ebb and flow of the struggle between good and evil seemed a constant, a given - so much so that our philosophers and poets had portrayed its seeming continuance in essay and verse.

For the most part - we had abandoned the concept of a final judgment and reckoning. For many such an idea seemed foolish and contrived - the power and source of evil and wickedness became an amusement to most - a primitive and superstitious belief of a forgotten time - a time before our intellectual awakening and a time before the great development of our understanding.

It was with this pompous attitude that we had stepped forward - and tickled the Dragon’s tail. We had abandoned ethics and absolutes - and like the Preacher of Jerusalem, we had given ourselves “to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly.” - The Preacher 1:7

And the floodgates had been opened - and the balances had been rent and cast aside - and all Hell had been loosed upon the Earth - and there arose from the depths spirits, and principalities, and powers - and the flood of evil covered the Earth as not since the beginning of time - and no more for ever shall be.

O’ Satan - that old serpent - was given power to rule and to reign upon the Earth - and to go forth and establish his throne - and none could stay his hand.

The ancient hunter bent his bow, and he searched out the tender soul, the child and the helpless - the fairest of the fair - the young maiden at the gate of the beautiful temple - the ruddy youth sent to war and to death - and he was given power to search out and destroy all them that refused to worship and obey him.

The Power of the Keys

How had we come to this unique point in time and space? As the fisherman of that obscure village on the shores of Galilee - now centuries past - had recounted - “many prophets and righteous men have desired to see the things which ye see - and have not seen them; and to hear the things which ye hear, and have not heard them.”

We had been given the power of the keys - great and small, some of seeming insignificance - and some of majestic portent. The keys had been endowed - in some cases, assigned - for some a surcease - for others the start of a journey - and others still the entrance to and obtaining of immortal secrets.

All, both small and great, rich and poor, bond and free, every persuasion and endeavor unlocked - revealed, and manifest - the fulfillment of good, and the fulfillment of evil.

The keys were given, and the access was opened, and the power was held in our hands - for some a blessing, and for others a curse and a damnation.

Our knowledge increased an hundred fold, and then it doubled - and then it tripled. Every jot and tittle unfolded, as a flower in spring - and every evil work prospered, storming down upon us with an unprecedented fury.

As the mystic of Tarsus had foreseen, “evil men and seducers waxed worse and worse” - and we clung to the promise “where iniquity doth abound, grace doth much more abound.” - The Tax Collector

The codes had been revealed.

Our scientists raced to explore - and to manipulate, the genome. Genetically modified plants. Cloning. And the laboratories awash with speculative and dangerous experimentation. Mixing human and animal in an attempt to “improve” our livelihood and longevity. There was even talk of producing “sub-humans” - a degenerate species farmed for organ transplants and manual labor.

And then there were those - who through the access given them by the keys of our DNA sequence - and their ability to set in order the building blocks of the physical world - the atom - began to embrace and pursue what they regarded as the logical next step in our “evolving” species of human beings - melding man with machine - literally inserting and growing computer based devices within our nervous system - thus harnessing the power to program ourselves in any way we desired.

They envisioned the “post-human” race.

For our men of war - the keys had given them a fearsome dominance on the fields of battle. Science and technology unlocked the secrets of destruction - and the captains of war employed these advances in raining death and devastation upon the earth, and upon all who stood in the way of the plans and designs of the Chaldeans and their Dark Lords.

The captains of war used their access and the power delivered unto them to secure the throne of the Chaldeans. In return they were given exclusive rights to use the keys to develop even more powerful and destructive tools. They began plans for a cyborg warrior - initially just a soldier in an armored robot suit - but the true goal of the elite echelons of the captains of war sought the production of a genuine warrior species - a killing machine with a human soldier as its core - completely and irreversibly integrated with the greatest advances of technology. With the advent of this warrior species - global domination was within their grasp.

And mankind worshiped the works of his own hands - and he paid tribute and gave honor to the Chaldeans - and he worshiped the Dark Lords for the keys they had delivered - genetic engineering, nano technology, robotics, the splitting of the atom, chemical miracles, the harnessing of the waves and particles of our inner vibrations and compositions.

The Charlatans played an important role in all of this - the mass of humanity - and especially the thinkers - had to be cajoled and pandered to in order to keep them from rising up in rebellion against the constant erosion of their personal autonomy and free choice.

The Charlatans seemed to possess a special magic of illusion so persuasive - that even the elect were drawn into and absorbed with their manufactured distractions. The mass media became the ever present voice and conscience of our daily lives - teaching us how to view and respond to the monumental changes taking place around us.

We were gorged with images of false heroes and shameless goddesses of lust and indulgence - and we clamored for more. Occasionally the stark images of some new genocide or atrocity appeared on the screen - but these were quickly dispensed and our standard fare of the insignificant and inconsequential returned - all under the guise and guile of the Charlatans.

And the Controllers watched and orchestrated from a hidden room - at times it was nearly impossible for them to elude the questioning and accusations of a small but vocal group of non-conforming and non-participating individuals - but the Charlatans quickly grabbed center stage and the attention of most of the people - and the Chaldeans sought out and persecuted the rebels.

But there were other keys of power that had been given to men - not just keys of understanding and manipulating and fabricating the physical realm - but keys of the Kingdom - and the power to bind or loose in both the physical and spiritual realm - and these keys could command the keys held by the Dark Lords and the Chaldeans, and the Charlatans - yea - these keys could stand against the Supreme Lord of Evil himself - even when held and activated in the delicate hands of a child.

The codes were revealed, the keys were given, and the stage was set for the uncovering of both Heaven and Hell.

The Apocalypse

“But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with a fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up. Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be …” - Peter the Fisherman

“For the time is at hand.” - Peter’s friend John

The Apocalypse, the revealing, the uncovering - the establishing - the manifestation of all previous ages and all previous understanding and a paradigm shift of such force as to forbid all return.

This was the time of the End - the culmination of all that had gone before - and the ushering in of a new age. - and like a tense thriller the script unraveled and we watched. Some speculated on the times and the seasons - some engaged themselves and others, seeking to find a clear path amidst the growing tumult and confusion brought on by the shear volume of the information and knowledge that was being revealed. Eventually all but a few understood the magnitude of what was unfolding around us.

For now was the time when that old serpent would be cast out of his former place - and refused any audience of consolation or repentance - or rebuke. The Battle for the Earth had begun - and all that would not worship the beast, or receive him into their bodies would be slain. “All, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond…” - Beloved John

Death, the hunter of the tender soul - was loosed upon the Earth - “and he was given power to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth - and Hell followed with him.”

And Heaven was revealed also.

The Chaldeans take Center Stage

The winds of change were blowing

And like anthems in the wind

We sought for one another

We sought for truth within

We reached out to our brother

And we touched so deep inside

But the Chaldeans took the center stage

They took us for a ride.

With a cheap smile

And cheaper goods

They sold our souls to Hell

And our salvation, if we would

Was to believe

And then receive

The gift of grace

The humble face

And love eternally.

-The Fool

O’ the Chaldeans - for for a drop of water they would deceive. Change was good for the Chaldeans - as their changing faces - always promoting the wages of death - and always appearing in sincerity and trust.

But this new environment brought them a once subjugated avenue of expression - along with their common fare they could speak - even sing - yea, the could scream the sounds of Hell.

It looked innocent enough - a mere game really - just an opportunity to have some fun - until we all were bidden to embrace the sounds of Hell.

Sounds from Hell

Screeching, Wailing, Tortured

Slaughtered

Sacrificed

Emptiness and bottomless

Shadows creeping through the night

Unimagined requiem

Unforgotten blight

Wicked, Piercing Sirens

Seducing

Pitiless

With eyes upon the prey

Devouring they fall upon

The wayward unsuspecting

Whose soul abates their Mighty One

Overpowering, Sinister, Repulsive

Arrogant

Dispiciable

Darker than the Night

The echoes of the sub terrain

A loved ones cry of desperate pain

And overcome with fright.

-The Fool

We seldom questioned our acquiesce to the voices of Death - and we allowed our children to accompany us on our walk with darkness.

In these days - “the skies had truly become red, red with warning -and black, black with clouds - gathering for the Great Confusion.” - Grandmother

But amidst the turmoil and destruction - if you would - you could walk through the night - and as you reached - the Whisperers began to speak.

By rights and by the proof of our heritage and our existence - the Whisperers always spoke first - for they had dominion over spirit, and principality - and in all this - they spoke softly and sang a beautiful song.

The Whisperers

“He maketh his angels winds - and his ministers a flame of fire.” - Apollos

“And I fell at his feet to worship him. And he said unto me, See thou do it not; I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of Jesus: worship God: for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.” - John the Exile

The Whisperers could see more than our limited perceptions afforded us. They were not bound by distance, or locked gate, or the demands of sleep - for they kept their vigils without distraction or interruption - save those times when some more pressing or urgent call required their attendance. - and in those times and circumstances we were still overshadowed by our ever present helpers and guardians - angels of light and power. - and those conscripted to watch over us.

Some of these were mute to our daily affairs - and their sole intervention on our thoughts were either simple reminders of our daily tasks - or terse commands to guard us from imminent danger. These warriors were so singular in their task - that they seldom spoke - for their senses were monitoring much greater communications - at least in regards to our well-being. They didn’t accomplish this in any other manner then to completely sanctify themselves to the task - these were truly guardian angels.

The Whisperers held secrets. - it was no more noble a task then the guardians, but due to its very nature - the task required much more verbal communication - sometimes in various languages - and often in presentation of new insights and clearer visions.

As we arrived at the edge of time - and faced the darkness - and perceived good and evil - the Whisperers began to speak in earnest - and with some approbation; and with determination, and with urgency.

There were many among us that heard them - but the greatest comprehension of their song came mostly to those who - in whatever way was possible for them - talked to the Whisperers and listened intently in solitude. It was a communication of faith.

The Whisperers were - for the most part - humble in spirit; and there was often a certain reluctance in their coming forth as personages; - (and personages they were indeed) - that rather their instruction could be their primary touch and intercourse. Not withstanding - at times they manifest themselves for who they were - brethren of the testimony of Jesus.

Now, in this time - the Whisperers had been sent forth - from the King unto the babe they poured their consecration as from flowing cisterns - and they embraced us with gifts and anointings, and with faith - and trust - and hope - and love.

The core of the Whisperers power to hold and reveal secrets lay partly in their humanity - for like “an high priest that is touched by the feelings of our infirmities” - they understood us intimately. But the deepness of their being came from the manner in which they had faced their humanity - and the measure of their surrender - and the cost of their giving. The Whisperers had been entrusted to speak directly to us.

And they spoke of the danger that lay ahead - and of the gross darkness that was to come upon all the Earth - to try men’s souls. They spoke of the hour of temptation - and they cried out a warning - and they wept with a voice of lamentation. And they spoke of proclamation, and salvation, and redemption.

And they held the testimony of Jesus - the Son, and the Heir.

The Four Horsemen

“It’s not a riddle - really; that’s just who they are.” - Fin McCool

Unsealed they were - and they were sent forth - on horses prepared for the day of battle - for though the battle is waged with liege and trumpets blast - each soul must finish the battle course - and every man shall give account. - The Fool

The pale rider on his pale horse - Death and Hell will run the course; The Abortionist, and the Sleaze, The defiled and the seized. Hell is full of death - and it’s a bottomless pit. We were to face the culture of Death - in all its horror. Mass murder, genocide, infanticide - our humanity unraveled - “ethnic cleansing” - what a travesty of language - how reprobate a thought - euthanasia, suicide - madness in the dark. Mass annihilation, personal disgrace - in all of this the rider of the pale horse clearly showed his face.

The Captain of the red horse, his hands stained with blood - we would watch while our world was flooded with the weapons of war. Stockpiles of munitions - weapons of mass destruction, smart bombs - raining terror from the skies - and the rider on the red horse would loose his bane into every corner of our daily existence - child soldiers trained to kill - rape and famine now his sword used on helpless women and children, the grandfather and the mother. His was not a noble quest - he took the peace on Earth and left us desolate. In war we paint our faces and become - in our rage and determination to engage - more like beasts then mother’s sons. We were held in chains of bondage while every child contemplated his demise.

“But the end of all things is at hand - therefore - be ye sober and watch unto prayer.” - Peter the Denier

The scales of injustice, politics and government, business and trade. Weighing every particle, logging every cent - laying claim to seed and earth and rain. Setting price on all that labors and if they could, setting an admission gate on all the rest - sea and sky and mountain’s crest. Selling your identity - selling home and hearth - and if they find that you can’t pay to sell you into slavery. Advertisers, money sharks, pocket lawyers - every thing’s for sale. We would endure a world where precious moments of our lives had all been counted and assigned a value and a price. The rider on the black horse his purple robes and his scarlet carpets now stained and black with oil and with the residue of wreaking tube and iron shard and soiled with pollution, excess and waste - but to the rider no disgrace. His black horse, like his black soul - he is a merchant, he loveth to oppress - and to magnify the sore, the black rider in all his pomp and extravagance saddled us with taxes - a tax on food, a tax on every gift that we employ, a tax to speak - a tax to hear - a tax on life - a tax on death.

The gallant knight upon his stead - This is not Percival or Hitler’s mockery. White and pure - love unfeigned - the drops of dew on blade and petal - prisms in the sun. Parched and scorched and decomposed - all restored again. Children’s laughter, lover’s touch. Every whisper of the heart - every hope and faith - Goodness, mercy, truth - the constant confidant - as pure as gold - flawless gems- and life eternally. The prince of Peace - the King of love - Melchisedec of old; the rider on the white horse, it is told - the old time story - second birth, man redeemed and peace on Earth. The white horse knows his rider, as all war horses do. It is said that the battle horse will perish with his master before he will be mounted and ridden by an enemy. Many men have sought and then proclaimed their majesty - their fealty and their fame. The rider on the white horse - he alone - to suffice; living springs of water - living bread - living sacrifice. Herald to the Nations let them know that this is Christ.

Into Great Tribulation

“for except those days should be shortened - no flesh should be saved” - Jesus of Nazareth

The Great Tribulation will come - and the signs of the times are all around us. Some talk of their escape of that day - others mock the messengers and harbingers of the coming tribulation. Some dismiss it as the storytelling of some first century writer seeking fame - and still others try to heap confusion upon confusion - attempting to cast the issue and mold opinions toward an enduring status quo.

There is much debate surrounding the issue - but the issue itself is clear - we shall, as a race and as a world body - go into Great Tribulation. Even now the main company - those who will play the various roles in this - the curtain call of this present age - are assuming their places and readying their best performances - and as the theaters of state and region and continent become one stage - and the orchestration begins - we shall witness prophecy fulfilled - the spectacle of good and evil, and darkness covering the Earth as the waters cover the seas.

That man of sin revealed - the incarnation of that Wicked One - mankind subjugated, enslaved - and worshiping the Beast. A new world order - a polluted undertaking - and the desperate flight of the refugees - the ancient plagues of Egypt and the trumpets dreadful blasts - blood and fire - Babylon alas! - that great city wherein were all that traded in ships made rich - Babylon destroyed! - trees and grass and living things and men in torment - fire from above - the Earth itself repulsive of the pride so pitifully embraced - the lust of flesh - the lust of eye - the lust for power and renown - the Wicked One come to claim his pretentious throne - to mark his followers and endow his ministers - to set the Abomination and to defile the sanctuary and the Holy place.

For we shall go into Great Tribulation - we are paving the way with the works of our own hands.

But in this darkness there shall be - candles in the wind - flickering their light. Stable souls of true understanding and faith - mystics and prophets who shall be strong - and do unheard of acts of kindness, faith and love - and the two witnesses shall rise up - and men shall once again eat angel’s food and manna from above.

The dead shall be raised to life - the blind shall receive their sight - the lepers cleansed, the lame will run as swift as wind, the dumb will speak, and those with incurable diseases will be healed, for the Great Tribulation shall be as much for good as for evil - and while the love of many shall wax cold and Evil’s throne shall wax old and disappear - then shall the meek inherit the Earth - and righteousness shall spring forth and flower and prosper.

Of Servants and Kings

“aye - it is a true saying - the last shall be first - and the glutton and the froward man who grabbed what he could - well, I’ll tell ya - he shall be last.” - Ossian

The paradox of being able to keep only that which you have freely given away has haunted some as they strove to catch the wind - and others in enlightenment have found - that nakedness is freedom - and service and cheerful giving from the very heart reigns supreme - servants conquer all - and giving always increases.

Look around you now - so few servants - though fields are white to harvest, men would rather do the task that ministers to their pride and fleeting gain - than reap the harvest by them giving of themselves - their time - their strength - the fruit of their epiphanies - their toil and their pain.

They say “a man’s home is his castle” - but for too many it is a prison with locks and fetters forged with their own hands. Kingdom building is an ancient quest - from Babel to the Pyramids - and for those who are allowed to taste the wine of empire - it is very difficult to look away - or to abandon for such inconveniences as integrity and fidelity. - and such emotional trivia as compassion and a sense of what is right and true.

Kingdom builders have often left their first estate - those qualities and gifts that opened the doors to the corridors of power and the board rooms of policy - and by requirement of the greater purpose of their Kingdom have justified themselves in deeds and actions and thoughts best reserved for darkness and confinement. From Caesar to Lenin to Mao to Hitler - in economic and political endeavor - and in the loosing of the dogs of war - as men ascend the steps of their own majesty - they so often leave their soul at the entrance to the Great Hall.

Of a truth - some have borne the mantle with dignity - but most men are too fragile and fickle for such fame and fortune - and they fall - and some for an eternity.

The servant - though endowed with equal gifts and character - by office lacks the opportunity. But true service - love slavery - must be chosen.

All true deeds - those done in exercise of the excellent gift - open doors and pathways to the giver - and it is only by a continual choice that a man can remain a servant - for mere bondage - prison walls - torture - incarceration - even solitary confinement does not make servants of men - rather - rebels and insubordinates - no, servants and to serve is a choice as accessible as the captain or the King.

The servant then - is a king in his own right - though his ordination is hidden to the casual observer.

All of the human condition is a pursuit of choice - the servant chooses that which can not be taken away - and that fadeth not - and that which requires no compromise to embrace …

Whereas the King - even the King of a forgotten empire - must needs to have compromised his heart and soul to obtain - save in regards to those who bore the office as a servant of all.

We will see the King of kings - having stooped to conquer, riding in power and majesty - and we will tremble and weep to be so blessed as to walk in the everlasting light of His countenance.

“For ye shall not see me until ye say, blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.” - Jesus the Carpenter

The Choice

By nature every boundary - if it be crossed - requires that the traveler leave behind - even at the most remote station and demarcation - all that is forbidden in the country where he is bound - and lose all the succor and repose of the estate he will forsake to travel there - to cross the boundary is a choice with consequence.

What boundary have you confronted?

- and what the price? - and what the loss?

- sophistication for simplicity?

- and lies for truth?

- and then to stand before the power of that new place

- have you paid honor for disgrace?

- have you traded light for darkness falling all around?

- have you sold your soul for opportunity on heathen ground?

-The Fool

Have you spent your inheritance in revelry and riot as the prodigal son? Have you compromised for flesh and lust? - have you yielded to the Evil One? Have you taken that which deep inside you understood you could not yield - and sacrificed it for a night of sensuality - or even just a meal? A mess of pottage - your birthright sold, a fatal promise that you hold? and who then will redeem your soul?

You gain the world - but what the cost? - your very being is what’s lost.

The hunter, Death is at the door - his ancient profession - is it yours? will you trade all that you could be; for darkness? - for eternity?

The night has fallen - lift your voice in lamentation, - the choice is clear, the time is now.

It is easy to justify the compromise of your integrity - and when we practice it as craft - easier still to choose denial and betrayal - and then to sell out completely for what we can see and feel, and then to claim the victim’s lament.

The choice is small at first - but afterwards it makes a rent and then a sore and when accounts are called to settle, suddenly there is no more except the fearful expectation. - safety is not in the multitude of things that we acquire - or to hide ourselves among the many - at the judgment all shall stand alone;

Choose ye this day whom to serve

Choose the path that you will walk

Choose the person you will be

And the Prince that you will trust

For this present world has come

To smoke and ashes - and to dust.