Friday, December 26, 2014

Word Pookie #18 (date unknown)

  Maybe it's just a sign of age, I don't know. You know the package; the old grumpy guy fussing about how kids talk nowadays, or to that effect maybe? It's just that I can barely tolerate listening to the usage of some words, as they are murdered in public. Another aspect of the old guy syndrome is the evolving usage issue. Some words come into wide application only briefly, and kinda flit away again. Others, just as annoying, remain. So then, we might be able to guess that the short list I intend to bellyache about will promptly disappear next week, leaving me with nothing to complain about! That said, I shall next hazard my list.
  It bugs me to hear young men say "totally", when what they mean is "that sounds about right, I guess". It bothers me to listen to girls say "absolutely", when what is intended is a polite agreement, so as to not start an argument in public. The sound of "of course" grates upon my nerves, in that it is almost never applied to instances of common knowledge. "Of course" might apply to Hank Aaron's record number of homers. It almost certainly would never apply to the gross national product of Guatemala, as a "well known number". Number four on my list is "y' know whad I mean?", which is almost exclusively applied to inference sets; of which in fact, I have no idea at all; what you are discussing, y'know whad I mean? Rounding out today's list of word-pookie is the utterly egregious and finally banal misuse of "awesome". An intelligent F-5 tornado, as it demolishes St. Louis; might perhaps qualify as "awesome", the flavor of a stick of chewing gum, hardly ever, at all.
  Does any of this matter to you? I mean, you'll have to admit that I completely overlooked the "ebonics" of usage, as in the deployment of "acks", nor did I gripe at all over the misery of "eksetera" (acks Yul Brynner about that one!), so it's not like I'm getting out of control on the topic or something.
  No, what bugs me is (I think) the premise that words and language itself are in existence such that by virtue of a common and expected usage of symbols, content of thought might pass from one mind to another. Imagine a world in which conversation was done with semaphore. The flags raised sequentially at certain angles, are to convey across a distance; a message. The "creative" use of flags to imply meaning, rather than convey it; is not "progress" in my mind. To signal "whopper tidal wave" with arms and flags so to refer to a pigeon's nest, might be thought of as an "overly strong" usage, but in fact is weak and wobbly.
  The totality of which "totally" is sign, is an oddly "mostly not there" type of totality. Likewise with the absolute, lately gone missing in action in "absolutely". To teach creative writing then, we should aim "down" toward understatement. To habitually overstate is precisely what weakens our words. Compare and contrast "Of course, the totally awesome hamburger, was absolutely delicious, y'know what I mean?", with "The burger was okay, I didn't die". Which of the two more accurately portrays the sitting down to consume greasy ground beef? Furthermore, the unreliable inclusion of "y'know whad I mean?" appears to imply a clairvoyance on my part, as listener, such that the comment itself is unnecessary, since I already knew! If I am to become "great" by the means of shrinking great words; somewhat akin to having F.D.R and J.F.K out back raking leaves, I'd guess such to be an unwholesome development.
  Further along this line, the aristocratic laziness involved to simply slap together words willy nilly in any old way seems to imply a certain "high-ness" on my part, which was never verbalized, but implied by it's structure. If then I'm so "up" a person  as all that, as to skip my actual statement, and supply instead an uppity hint at meaning which you are to decode as you wish, breaks the rule of communication. The message was not transmitted, and old guys are grumpy about it!
  Now what difference any of this makes, is difficult to state clearly. That is, the topic itself seems to transform itself, from a generalized gripe about "youngsters" into a specialized reference set of me, or my generation. And it isn't merely words we witness this phenomenon operating in. Haven't you noticed how people tend to get fixated over time with some small thing or another? Perhaps it is noisy cars "racing" down the street, cupboard doors left open, or "proper etiquette". Some niche or another of expertise presumed is carved out, a trivia, or some narrowly defined history, begins to become an unanswerable redoubt.
  Arguments against whether the hull thickness of WWII battleships were vulnerable to torpedoes, end up stalling. Whether or not petunias are perennial, ends stifling conversation, not promoting it. Soon, the turf of the tiny expert becomes unassailable, and next they begin to "humor" you! The "area" chosen by the grump, over which he maintains "unassailable truth", also just happens to be "entirely irrelevant truth". You'll get no arguments, for the simple reason, that nobody (but you) cares enough about it one way or another to fight over it with you. Your "reality" has lately become "numbing", and this is what we mean by the word "old", I think.
  Just in the same way as you once went through growth bursts, as a teenager, we age in bursts. To physiologically have grey hair, stooped shoulders and wrinkles might be signs of age, but not necessarily those of being "old". I'm saying that our quirky expertise in dead-end topics, the mastering of conversation killers as a cultivated crop, that is what makes us "old".
  And perhaps we could get by with simply swearing off such bad habits as all that, so to refer to ourselves as "young at heart"? Newsflash, only old people talk that way. Nor can the correct answer be simply the development of such a thick hide as to not fly off the handle when "awesome, actually, and fusstrate" begin to manifest. To simply "not-do" will not do!
  If language were a garden, you would not (I hope) be glad to simply defend your patch of carrots, and yell at kids who laugh at you as you do so. Our error was neither in the planting, nor in the defending of our gardens, but in failing to enlarge it! We are not place-holders first, but only "hold turf" after it is conquered!
  Likewise, we tend to see becoming a grump (getting old) in service to some private expertise set, as a thing (in itself) to be avoided. But, what if the grumpiness is a sign, that we best ought pick up speed in regard to conquest, which would be to learn new things? And I mean that the grump-quotient may well be an on-board warning sign to pick up the pace expanding the garden. If the ever-whittled-down size of the domain, is the problem, then, let's go conquer new dirt!
  So, instead of bellyaching about the vapid whippersnapper usage of "absolutely" as a "yes-ish" type of qualified agreement, we proceed instead to extend and ground the Absolute (Himself!) in our words! He the Rock, draws us to Him. It never was about the kid offending, or you being offended. We thereby, no longer satisfied to merely mock the thin gruel of rice krispy treats said to be "awesome", we become small channels of the Awesome One reaching out in space time to grasp in welcome those lonesome boys. Be in Awe of Him boys! Behold: He of Whom, through Whom, and unto Whom be all that is, was, and ever shall be! Or to rephrase, the enemy of old age, is you being friendly to little kids, and teenagers.
  We, by main force drive back the forest of ignorance, clearing the trees of guilt and superstition, burning the underbrush of loneliness and fear, so to build a garden, a playground from which we can rest to admire grand vistas. The greybeard was built specially to be the pilot of the D-9 dozer, leading the way into the wilderness. Happily blowing up stumps, knocking down piles of rock, is a glad thing and we won't be happy until we do so. Life is "directional", we spread out, as we gaze up. We root down, so to bear fruit, that others be nourished.
  Quickly we sprint. . . into True Arm's glad embrace, as He thunders "Well done Junior!". Words spoken, the entire concept, we borrowed from it's Inventor.
  He talks right.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Science #19 (date unknown)

  Over in You Tube land, I watched a few vids recently. If you search for "dumb things Christians say", plus related lines; there appears to be some seriously "unsympathetic to the faith" material out there. In our time, and in our culture this is "normal", and is a one sided arrangement. I do not pretend to be even mildly sympathetic to the modern scientific worldview. But, in my rejection of thoughts, I do not thereby criticize the brain and it's function. Rather the heart and it's intent are what is announced by malice aforethought!
  At the heart of man, is "cult". Cult-ure thus formats thought, not vice-versa. We think in the patterns we do, because of a prior heart loyalty. From the outset then, there are no disinterested nor unbiased seekers after truth. Rather, we humans having previously chosen our loyalties, set out next to re-enforce, and so to undergird our position. For instance, the news media types are constantly pretending at an unbiased and balanced reporting of news. The only thing we can safely conclude about such assertions is that the reporters are (for reasons best known to themselves) unwilling to announce their actual position, and that such being the case, we might reasonably distrust the testimony of such secretive souls. I say, we might reasonably distrust, and also we might ask for clarification. But this charity on our part is never, ever returned to us.
  If you just once utter the mildest dissent from Darwin, then remember to observe the "charity and understanding" you receive in return! Demur precisely one tad from big-bangery and watch the kind hearted welcome coming next! To differ with the popular cult is to forever be; "a hick, an uneducated and ignorant hillbilly, hopelessly lost in dogma". Fine. . . I'll take that, and return the favor; so to point out that the a priori heart commitment to "Science-ism", or "secular humanism" or whatever it is called this week, is essentially an immanentist supposition. Furthermore, the very same three invisible realities, which are mirrored by three visible; must be, by any competing system of belief; alternately interpreted. But such viewing of things never once addresses these things except via postulate.
  Simply said then, Christians are fully committed to three realities, and Science-ists likewise deal with the same three. Science-ists are forced to shape opinion in light of their systemic rejection of Yahweh, whereas Christians are freed to shape thoughts welcoming Him. Thus, we are not discussing thereby faith versus fact, or prejudice versus evidence. Here we see militantly competing faith claims of two disparate religions, and those claims are over the very same turf. That turf can be seen as "is, jazz, and rule". Being (is), speaks of the very "is-ness" of reality, and works from premises to conclusions. Life (jazz), refers to the animated and congruent replication of entities, and almost always is a sidebar to origins. Authority (rule), is a reasoning type defense of the the systemic interpretation, the "who says so" of facty-ness per se, and so formats as the epistemological inference.
  And in my Christian dumbness, I shall very briefly outline the Science-ist's basic spin on the three as I understand they themselves to be asserting. Recall, that these are unprovable faith based statements, and far from being themselves "provable", form the presumed bias, by which all further interpretation of data must be viewed from within the cult. It is the lens we see-by, not the thing viewed. The three are the binoculars, not the field of vision.
  Is, just is! Formally then, the cult is devoted to an unsupportable premise of the eternality of matter. Oh sure, over in Life, they will stoutly define big-bangery as if the action of explosion somehow "grants" existence of the to-be-exploded, but please note. That grand-daddy whopper black hole of all known matter which "was", prior to the explosion, that guck "in there" has (itself) no point of origin. Science-ism proposes no coherent reason as to why or how the super-compressed stuff ever came about in the first place. So, as a religious premise, there is no "need" (logically) for a Creator, if and since all the stuff of "is" just is, was and shall ever be, all by itself. Further, supposing a Creator in this type of matrix, He Himself would have to (logically) doff His hat, to pay homage to that awfully handy stuff "which can neither be created nor destroyed", as a more-eternal than He! In my opinion, much of the charges against us for being "dumb", are because we fail to admit the supremacy of matter.
  Jazz likewise, in this system just happens! Big-bangery is the quasi-cosmology, but the anthropology is closely linked. The cult proposes that chance plus time, equals reality, and this for no reason. That whopper ball of stuff (with zero spatial dimensions); somehow containing all stuff (which would make it the original black hole), one day just kinda went the other way. . . for no apparent reason. Science is quite firm about holes. To pass the event horizon, is to never emerge again from the gravity well, and this (we infer) would be likewise and more-so true of the original monster hole, drawing ever and always "in" Science says; "One day (unaccountably) it went out!". The sucker blew up. . .for no reason. From chaos, order is built by accident, and those hot gasses flying apart from the colossal boom at the speed of light. . . were nonetheless drawn together "gravitationally". Kinda like how when you blow up a stick of dynamite, it ends up looking like the Mona Lisa perhaps? Anyhow, the draw, once again at it, purposelessly exceeds the push, forcing the blobs to spontaneously combust in sustained fusion reactions quadrillions of times in a row? Kinda flukey that. And you know how them gasses are, don't you? Those rascals like to "not draw" (after all) and so they proceed to orbit as they refuse to be drawn all the way in, so to pointlessly become solids, like say planets and such? So, what with one thing and another, chance plus time finally gets around to creating the disordered-order called life, which as we are all quite aware, "tends" toward complexity! Single cell life just spontaneously combusts out of amino acids, salts, and lightning bolts. Unsatisfied with it's lowly self, it becomes, first a fish, then a frog, then a lemming, and then a lemur. Nearly a monkey now, it just goes all the way up to fully chimp! But, life ain't satisfied, and next thing you know. . . poof, here we are! But the entire process is akin to you spilling your dinner into your lap, an accident, and nothing to be learned by it.
  Rule, as it emerges in this system, is clearly a latecomer, and might be best ignored. The ape shedding his fur, sprouting a forehead, and dressing up in un-evolved animal hides; one day up and decides to whack his neighbor, so to steal his woman. Rule and authority in Science-ism are purely social constucts, and cannot logically be derived from the is or jazz view. But what goes entirely unsaid, by news anchors and the other "unbiased" among us, is that authority; in actuality, always remains one of the three basic valuations any cult must maintain. The "secret" of the religion of man is that he worships himself, but ordinarily fails to mention it; and thus reserves final authority as a purely personal prerogative. Authority is "vacant" in the cult of science, for the excellent reason that it inheres in the individual believers themselves, and this vacancy is authoritatively maintained!
  Being, life, and Authority. the three speak of an unreachable reality which can only be accessed by faith. And we Christian believers are entirely biased, in that we freely link these three to the Person, the Work, and the presence of the Almighty. Not only above and unseen, but below and visible are the three known. Cosmology, Anthropology and Epistemology apply to the high mystery indeed, but they also speak of everyday, and obvious things. It is in how the obvious is maintained, that we draw conclusions about the unsaid biases on the unseen.
  Apostle John says it more or less as "having viewed your distaste and mockery of the one we do see, (your neighbor) kinda blows the legs off of any claims of yours about any proposed "high view" of the unseen." How can you love (High) Invisible-True, when you clearly despise the (low) visible-true? If matter is indeed eternal, and "is" just is, if life and the cosmos are the results of staggering and pointless improbability (but that emptiness is all that truly is!), if authority means simply might equals right, then it is okey-dokey to mock. With such a system in place, divorce, the murder of babies, shameless deceit, debauchery and all the rest of what we view in the daily news, is entirely in line with the cult's religious dogma. . . as its' ethic! If Science-ism is true, then there is no evil. But even the believers in and of that cult, maintain the reality of evil, if only to accuse us of it! Their doctrine is forced to admit the reality of evil, while at the same time cannot admit it of itself.
  Doctrine it remains, even if it is merely that it's crap doctrine, and even the adherents of the cult hide from being known by their works. But they are never free to deny and walk away from their hopeless enterprise. Simple as simple, the main difference, between the competing faiths, is that we have been freed to acknowledge our need for help from outside our crummy, fallen little systems which we so love building. Or simpler yet, we call for aid upon the Name, "I AM HE WHO HEARS", and He indeed does!
  If Darwinism and it's attached misery is the case, then you are a pointless hiccup, in an idiotic rise of goop. If from goop to ape, and then from ape to man, begs the question; "from man to. . . what-next?". Trans-humanism in its' proposed bonding of human consciousness into a digitized format, proposes an "eternal life", of sorts. But that path leads to destruction, for the one "forgotten" reason. Science-ism is always wedded to an immanentist-only type thinking. Strictly speaking, it is "intra-cosmic. . .only!". Thus, there is Nobody "outside" of reality. All persons-ever, within Science-ist premises "must reside inside" the cosmos, and so, there can be no true hope. There is no-one "out there" to call to, in this faith.
  We beg to differ! Our hope lives on, indeed He does! There are two faith systems, one man built, and the other introduced by The Builder of Man (and all else). One path is harsh and insane, the other welcomes ex-madmen, and makes tons of sense. The insane faith cannot grasp the sane, but the sane understands and pleads for those yet trapped in hopeless darkness. The darkness has not comprehended the Light.
  The King says; "You will recognize them by their actions, you will know them by their fruits". What we "do" then is to accept ridicule, and welcome rejection for our "hick" views. Such is the very highest complement the others could, at this time pay! Until that glad day that they come into their right minds, their rejection remains the highest human endorsement available.
  "Rejoice in that day you are rejected (for My sake), for so they treated the prophets before you". The Voice of sanity, is He. Light of the dark world, Friend of the friendless, what a Champion!

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Merry Christmas 2014!

  Well, this thing right here is some type of landmark, I'd guess? After discharging from the U.S.A.F. back in 80; I began at some point, a sort of "tradition" or another, that of cobbling together, about this time of year; a missive of questionable merit. Normally, some type of nomenclature such as "Beware; for here is yet another genuine, bogus non-card, card". This was to prepare and alert (somewhat) the reader for what followed. Somewhen along the line, I adopted the use of graph paper as the "stationery". Some of the non-cards in years past included some rather poorly rendered drawings. Typical of these artworks, one might picture a "Santa" figure, with a circle about him, and a diagonal line drawn through, so to indicate a "no Santa zone".
  Most of these un-cards are careful to alert the reader of a forthcoming definite lack. No New England-y type snow scenes, zero evergreens, zip chatty newsletters, nil reindeer and such like stuff. My Mom was real big on cards, she loved both getting and giving them. To me, snow was just so much ice falling out of the sky; and I never did trust that "Santa" dude back at Montgomery Ward's when I was yet young enough to sit on his knee, so to chat up the weirdo. Moreover, I found it disturbing as a youngster to note the obviously fake beard on the guy, but as a boy, could not imagine how best to discuss the topic. Mom (or somebody?) apparently "wanted" me to believe in the icy strange pants drill, and so; I pretended to buy the yarn. For precisely whose benefit this pretending went on, I (to this day) can't say.
  I can still recall my brother Jim attempting to convert me out my deep agnosticism on the whole Christmas schmeer. I was perhaps a first or second grader, so Jim must have been about 11? He was trying to convince me of how terribly reasonable it was to build "here". I recall objecting at one point in the conversation; "We don't even have a fireplace, so how could it be that the guy drops in?". His memorable and stunning response; "He uses the air ducts on the furnace", seemed an even worse answer than the fireplace drill. Our furnace louvers were about 1/4 of an inch wide! How small afterall, is jolly old Saint Nick anyhow? And how could such a teensy person lug that monster bag around?. . .
  Honestly, I strongly doubt that it once occurred to me to surmise, that the link to be made here is to a magical, or mysterious reality. The logistics and the planning required to gain entry on millions of households, in only a few hours time, was "where" my brain lived in those days. The astounding amount of speed and flawless execution such an annual reverse burglary would have required, meant (in brief) that I simply assumed that these people buying into the story were insane. Ergo, Santa is not a left-brained phenomenon. The linear, logical and reasonable are supposed to be on vacation "here". The right brain was/is being given permission (temporarily!) to operate unmolested. I never, in those days; thunk that. Our very human need to believe in a terribly competent "father" (of some kind); who loves all children (even me?) just did not ever cross the brain scope in those days. Further, the premise that the cat was watching my every move, such that I could score points, so to derive cool stuff, seemed both; way too simple, and also more than a little perverse of the creep.
  All this said, it seems to me now, that I was out to "correct a problem". I had somehow become the sole survivor of logic and truth, and it (apparently?) was my job to "fix" those poor saps who had become unfortunately seasonally delusional? That said, what better method then, than do de-program the victims with a bit of shock therapy? Thus, Christmas was never a matter (for me) of basking in a glow, nor enjoying the getting all sentimental about days gone by. Hoping for a better tomorrow, was (in my book) a tomorrow devoid of lunatic assertions about invisible fat people. Other than these observations today, I cannot really say just why I bothered generating my monstrous non-card things all those years. The summary of many of them usually sounded something like; "Christmas is a religious feast. . . which has gotten entirely out of control!". No longer about Messiah Jesus, but twisted somehow into a kind of communal guilt tripping over whether or not one is properly "in the spirit of the thing". If one is approved on that score, we are then to behold some inane one upmanship gig about getting-even, (plus some) on the gifts given (and received) tally? Who (in their right mind), could possibly care about either? If Christmas is fundamentally a "caring-for" day, them's some mighty slim pickin's!
  So, to return briefly to the original topic, this marks the first ever cyber-digital type of non-card, card I've generated. No longer handwritten, and then xeroxed down at the U.P.S. store, this here model is all 21st cen! And to be honest with you, the writing of it hasn't been much of a priority for me this year. Not even I care about the blasted thing, but for Mom, and for tradition's sake, I will hammer this rascal out. Behind or perhaps beneath all of those previous non-cards is an unspoken "beef' with Dec. 25. And not to put too fine a point on it, but the modern version of the day is horrendously and astoundingly depressing. Some vague statistic I pretend to recall is that suicide attempts skyrocket during (precisely) "the season". I, for one am not surprised in the least, supposing such is actually the case. The craziness of a "happy/sad" day is confusing enough, that perhaps a little sign; or bumper sticker might help clear things up?  It might be a little like those drivers you see all over the roadways. You wonder where their sign is. You are on a major artery in town, with a posted limit of 35. Clown-zilla, smack in front of you; is blazing right along at 22? Where is the sign? Or, how about we just put a bumper sticker on, reading "no license, no insurance"? So thus, for Christmas, the deal, is that I am supposed to "care" about "the season" (yuck!) by eagerly listening to forecasts of probable retail sales? That (?) is what the "joy" is all about? An invented "marketing opportunity", specially designed for families with youngsters, and this year's version of gross sales, versus years-past, kinda forgets something. That little matter is that not all of us have mates, not every person has children. The marketing and profits all hinge upon marriage. And as a single, my sign plainly reads "I don't belong here". If you don't have a tyke to bounce on the knee, nor a sweetheart to snuggle with, the fiesta in question turns out to be a day off work, maybe (if somebody takes pity on you) some turkey and spuds, and a day to loaf. It's a sugar coated Saturday, in which the acquisition of more "stuff" is supposed to gladden the heart? Not depressing enough for you? Oh, I forgot to mention that to notice the sadness of this is "not being in the spirit of the season", strictly verboten!
  True to form however, as with many of the previous versions of this mess, I shall next proceed to abruptly shift gears, so to wax eloquent on an (apparently) unrelated topic. I've been thinking lately about Job. To me, the whole Christmas gig is in that short little book. In my Bible, the thing spins up on pg. 662. If you get to Psalms, just back up a few pages. Christmas is Job, at least for this year's version of the anti-card. The poor guy keeps saying essentially, "Hey look, if I'm wrong, then I'm wrong, and I'll come clean, but you could, at least do me the simple honor of telling me where it was that I supposedly went so far off the rails!". Dial tone. Or worse than a dial tone, the line has gone clean dead. There is no answer to be had for the righteous-est man on earth, as he is unfairly crushed.
  Hmmm, where else have we heard this idea? The champion of right-way-ness in all Earth, being crushed, though he himself did no wrong? Ring a bell? Job is a type of the Messiah! The inscrutable and seemingly "pointless" devouring of that honest dude Job, sounds to us, to have been some sort of awful mistake.
  See? The ordinary way we look at things, is much like Santa. Picture this, if you do good, you get pinball machines, and go-carts. You screw up, you get a lump of coal! Apparently, we are pre-wired to view reality through some sort of promise and reward type of lens. The Hebrew understanding of their champion is David the King, that military genius, and swashbuckling vato of success. Jesus is walking around saying stuff like; "I'm heading on up to Jerusalem, they'll kill me, then put me six feet under; and on the third day I'll bust out of the tomb". So (naturally) the 12 figured that either He'd been out in the sun a little too long, or that this was some kind of metaphorical type "spiritual" teaching. Even on the day of the murder, maybe (just maybe) one person on the planet "got it" besides The King. Remember that Mary came beforehand, anointing His body for burial. She knew, what you now know, it was the only way!
  The Jews figured that the Son of David would open up a king-sized can of whup-ass, and drive the stinkin' Romans out, (if He were truly The King that is). The entire concept of the unfair punishment of the only good Guy ever, and Him crushed to death (this pleasing to the Father?) just did not crop up on the brain scope. Doesn't "victory" mean. . . victory? Since when is "winning" defined as "getting pounded into the soil"? How could conquest of the nations be a fall guy taking the rap for crimes he never committed? Overcoming, solving, repairing the woes of the world seem to require a "going up". From our perspective, greatness, appears to be basic, but the only real solution is actually a crushing loss, bringing a dreadful sorrow. When it came, nobody saw it coming, certainly not then! And to be honest, nobody ever would or could get it, at least not without help. Help came.
  In his day, Job tried as hard ever as he could, to hold up his end of the bargain, yet in the end, had to fold. The righeous-est man on Earth failed. We needed another Job, a "super-Job", who although fully man, could bear that Almighty crushing, and like the lamb led to slaughter, never once claim His rights in the process!
  The magic of Christmas, is just about "here" somewheres. Post resurrection, and with the aid of the Spirit Holy, the early believers were practically lining up to likewise participate in this new thing in Earth, this "winning by losing". Their smashing victory, and overturning of the Roman Empire was in the participation with their Captain; as He captured and turned the hearts and minds, of the many! The weak, though weak indeed, was proving stronger than the strong! Their loss, (with Help and in Christ alone) became an unheard of kind of win. The ugly, marred visage of Him-crushed (who was no "looker" to begin with), became in them the Beauty-everlasting. He, The Finder, the Friend, the True Brother, Him accepting them willingly, intercepts the fury from on-high in His body. The "wall" He thereby forms, proves to be the only shield available when that Un-created Rage, long predicted; finally and actually does manifest.
  "Maranatha, even so, come soon Lord Jesus", is a wild thing to say! Think it over. We are pleading with the High-Holy-One, to come burn down reality, so to shatter beyond any hope of recovery, the world, and (near as I can tell) the universe! We are asking Him to be The Final Calamity (in Person), and that before our very eyes! The insane high treason of the enemy forever blown to flinders, all human and demonic wickedness to come to a permanent and screeching halt, this devastation in blinding violence; it's this we ask for? Devastation, way way beyond some puny super nova, or even some type of unimaginable "galactic uber-bomb", we plead for the return!
  The crushing of the one Innocent Man, that true-Job, is the only shelter ever invented, which could (and surely shall!) survive that day. And He came willingly? There is a deeper magic then. Our shabby insane market holiday is but a dim whisper of the fiercely real, the True Father All Seeing, who lovingly prepares the only present worth-having, in that great and terrible day; life!
  They call Him "The Save-er", and save-indeed He does! Saving from sin, and from death, so too from the hell of fire. He thereby saves from fear, from fear's twin; loneliness, and even from sadness, but best, and first-always, He is saving us. . . from Him! It was the only way, left open; and He took it!
  Oddly then, this type of thinking reverses things, making you, yourself, into the Christmas present. That beautifully wrapped mystery turns out to be y'all! And it is the one He most eagerly anticipates opening! Merry Christmas, you Christmas present-you! Bask in that glow, loaf, and remember. Hope in the surely better day coming. Eat lots of turkey, bounce many little kids on your knee, it is a religious feast, gone all right!