There is not a damned thing they can do to stop us.
This is a tough write, today. I paint with words, but the metaphor promptly dies right there. Painting and writing are both completely different in how they work, and my writing in particular is aimed at a sort of artistry not seen in Western history, but common enough outside of it. The ultimate subversion is rejecting reality itself — that’s the approximate effect of what I’m doing in our world. As a basic prerequisite to everything else I have to say, if I can get you to embrace the sensory heart, then you have already rejected the whole of Western Civilization (see my book, Redemption and Sexual Identity, chapter 1). That means you’ve already left behind the deepest part of the prison dungeon, and the rest of the way into freedom is much simpler.
It’s also more dangerous.
Dangerous for you because a lifetime of mental habits still belong in the dungeon. They won’t fit out here in the daylight. It’s the difference between feeling your way around versus seeing your new path running over the crest on the far ridge line.
The oppressors guarding the world against our freedom are also limited to feeling their way around. If you can use the eyes of your heart, it’s not much of a task to elude their grasp. The sensory heart is the eye of the soul; it sees the moral landscape as God made it. It works best if you actually focus your consciousness through that faculty, instead of allowing Western social mythology to blind you. But learning to make sense of what this new faculty tells you is a monumental task.
That’s because the foundation is realizing that no two of us will see the same colors, lines, shapes or anything. The whole point is that each of us must be set free to understand the landscape in our own way. So I have this herculean task of explaining vision itself without a common viewpoint possible. You cannot possibly experience the moral realm the same way I do.
What makes it safer is that those who target our freedom can’t see it at all. Then again, they insist you can’t really see what you see, either. But they keep communicating in that same language of tactile certainty, versus your own quirky vision of moral truth. It’s multiple layers of falsehood. We could share a lot of truth, but first have to redefine sharing. Unity is not uniformity. What holds you and I together is our shared rejection of uniformity. We also have to reject the mythology that individuality is inherently isolationist.
We redefine love itself. Again, it’s dangerous ground — a tough write — because the English language is bereft of meaning on that word from having crammed entirely too much into it. Let’s try the language of paradox: As long as you need my affection, you can’t have it, can’t make any use of it. My genuine heartfelt commitment to your welfare means nothing until you see it with your heart. My real-life hug won’t mean a thing until you can sense my love through this blog post first. Not because I say the words, but because you can read the power of the thing itself when I don’t use the words.
When the thing we share is incomprehensible to our enemies, when our greatest power has nothing to do with anything they recognize at all, we have become the mightiest army of God on this earth. Open your heart-eyes. Only then can you see the mighty promises of God as He actually gave them. This thing feeds itself; His divine moral nature as “Law” is its own reward. If it is not sweeter than words on its own terms, you haven’t tasted it yet.
Nothing on earth can stop it.
(:-)