Ziklag 4.12 Incoherence Shouted

SOS, Talk Them In, and Earth 9

SOS Discipline - Daily Proverb and Red Letter Reader

A heart that beats to loud will ever have trouble listening. cf Pr. 28:25

The most difficult thing to see is blindness. cf Mt. 7:4

It is the greatest skill to hide the contest. cf Sun Tzu 4.11

From Today’s Stack

Incoherence, shouted loud enough, is all the devil really is after in the end.

from Talk Them Into It 2.0

Authorization is Power to Do

The diplomat’s power and purpose is his office. While Christianity has never spread its message by the sword, that does not mean that Christianity is pacifistic about the status quo. Christians are born again both to repent of their deeds unto righteousness and fill the earth with the divine commission of Jesus’ ressurrection promises.

Conversion to Christ is not sales, but assault. This assault is not physical, but verbal. These verbs are not hurtful, but enlivening. There is no demand, shame or abuse that compels the heart to cry out, “Abba! Father!” Rather, the child’s call is the holy manna of trust inspired by the God who gives it.

It is Christ’s prerogative to enact communion with the lost. In this battle, our mouths are the arsenal, our lives of faith the proof, and a radical piece of good news that makes the name of Jesus the only weapon you will ever need.

An officer is an official who has been charged with an “office.” An “office” is a task that needs to be done no matter what. There is much work to do in an “office,” but the work itself is not the “office.” The office is authorization to get it done.

The official authority of the diplomat is that he is sent. After Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead, sealing the universe with his blood and snatching us from Satan like brands from the fire, he sent everybody.

There is no need for permission to say, “He is risen!” There are no credentials required to memorize and quote the Bible in your daily life. It is from the mouths of babes and infants that God calls forth the purest praise.

All Christians are authorized to evangelize, and the tool by which we do so is the same one that makes and sustains us as Christians in the first place: conversation about the life, death, resurrection, ascension and return of the everlasting King of all men, Jesus, the Christ.

from Earth, Chapter 9: Prudence

The Armamentarium, a mobile smithy and arsenal, sat in a field bordered by a gullet outside of camp. A wagon train of wood and steel, defensive positions held circled and on the ready for emergency circumstances at all hours of the day. The central cart, a behemoth of metalwork, cabinetry and canvas, took a team of twelve oxen to pull on its eight massive wheels. No less than a third of the marvel, built of hinges and swings, mechanically opened to expand the forge. It’s fine smokestack, running up through the overhang, sent up a perpetual pillar. Hiding an army is impossible, but ensuring it is well outfitted is the utmost necessity.

The rest was a panoply of lock boxes, wrought iron chests, cabinets and endless secret compartments, all storing ordnance and mystery. Few recruits came this close. Weapons in need of repair were handled via superior.

Earth drew near to the pounding of hammers, matched by the heaving sigh of the bellows pumping. The Master at Arms was overseeing the arrival of a new cartload of ore, and appeared intent to count the last pound, much to the chagrin of the driver, who clearly wanted to be back on the road before midday. Earth listened while he waited, instructions about storage and payments and more.

It was much later, as the cart was at last pulling away, that the bulky man turned to scowl down at Earth.

His name was Lafe. He squinted through one eye as though it hurt to see the world. Pocked with scars and broody of mood, the long life of hammer and anvil had not been kind to his countenance, even as they had swollen his burly form to terrifying proportions. His black, bushy mustache hid as much of it as possible. But one can only do so much to hide the ears and forehead.

“Reporting,” Earth said.

“‘Aye,” he frowned. “And I am ordered grant you my last bit of rended steel! A broken waste of time. Follow me. This way.”

He did not pass a man but he barked more orders, though his mind was clearly on the massive copper ring of keys he produced from the folds of his massive leather apron. Selecting a particularly intricate one, he inserted it into a latched door. With a click, the trap sprung, revealing a slender drawer which the hulking blacksmith pulled out with tentative care.

With a sudden motion, he spun and at once drew forth a blade the likes of which Earth had only ever dreamed. Lofted alight in the air, gleaming like a radiant star, Earth saw momentary visions of trees set high in the rocks near running water followed by a molten falls of metal fire pouring down an endless dark cavern. The blade flung in the air, spinning with practiced precision, caught in reverse and tightly extended, handle first, to Earth.

Unable to keep the tremor from his hand, Earth did not hesitate but once before wrapping his fingers around the contoured grip like a quest for glory nigh fulfilled. Simplicity and power emanated from the mirrored edges as Lafe stepped away.

“This is no trinket,” he spat.

“It is rended steel,” Earth said.

“And that will not keep you from being a fool,” he harrumphed. “Rended steel! Legendary! Irreplaceable! A recipe lost to time! Beyond redemption! Perfection if we have it!”

He took a breath to compose himself.

“Not seven such blades, be they dagger or sword, are known to exist in all the realm. Three are owned by the Chief Assassin, two by Gaoltea, and two more kept on the presence of the King himself. Amongst those other valiant men sent with you on this errand of damnation, not one, not even the best Ranger or Assassin, shall wield such an irrevocable, irrefinable, irrefutable, godsent tool.”

Earth’s eyes did not widen, for he was not surprised. But he felt his breath flare in is nose as he stilled his anger to let the lesson sink in.

“It will not shatter,” the blacksmith went on. “It will not snap. It will not dull. It will not break. Drive it point first into a rock and it will make a dent without showing the least wear, though you’ll likely break the bones in your arm or gouge yourself in the attempt.”