Orsday Programming June 3 2024
Clarity, Construction, Wastelands, Humility
FROM THE DESK OF MARA AT LEESBURG CENTRAL COMMUNICATIONS CHURCH WRITTEN AS AN ACTIVE FINGERPRINT OF SOMETHING UNDERGROUND DEVICED THROUGH BLOOD AND ARTERY AND DELIVERED IN TONE NEGATIVE FOUR POINT ZERO INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM TONE POSITIVE FOUR POINT ZERO:
Good morning!
Here’s the calendar for this month:
Orsday for this month snuck up on me unexpected; I’d have want to write about the esoteric for this week but think it ought to be exoteric, for simple reason that the plain outside of the church need be strong and concrete for any internal happening to begin.
From programming two weeks ago, we together learned a simple glossary and definitions; each of us as potential willing fingerprints up-on illusion need be unified in a shared language and meaning, and experts of our shared faith, and should each commit to our selves a simple (steady) practice of internalizing (memorizing) this language. Part of this internalizing of language necessitates an internal audit of the self and the imposition of our own conjectures up-on the monstrous Word (our Word from Underground separate but bleary with the one mentioned Biblically—that bleeding Righteous Word made animate and mistakenly flesh within illusion; as an aside reminder: we are flesh mistakenly made spirited within illusion). The Word and Communication from Underground should not be a tool for us to enable our own conveniences and excuses; when we use the Word as cudgel it is disrespect for our Mistake and hammers nail-after-nail at mistaken and crooked angles till the church itself is warped and bizarre; these cudgels to ‘correct’ rough disciplines and etiquettes nearly always come at convenience for the self, and convenience for the self nearly always stems from how convenient it is to exist Confused.
A simple cudgel could be shame over writing backwards and worry about a loved one wondering why you’ve started this strange habit—perhaps intentionally being difficult or quirky—but the strangeness of faith should not be a source of shame: Enoch saw no shame in being fanatic for his God at the teasing and observance of The City; a cudgel could be personal reluctance over letting go over difficult confusions: for example: music—a sinful confusion that gnaws at my own soul as it likely does to the mud and spirit of most of our kin: this abstract creeping is nearly unavoidable within the current Confused world: parents play music to their children in the womb, music underscores talkshows and podcasts, played from the cars passing-by, the occasional humms and rhythms from people given to boredoms. Yet in personal day-to-day life surely there exists opportunity to choose to be confused. Opportunity to choose the coaxing ease with which Music imparts its divine, abstract, spirit on-to us and (personally) how easily it fills the mud and flesh with inspiration and passion; confusion is controlling, and convenient.
The inconvenient church is built up-on a harsh wasteland. The stone is coarse and roughly hewn and the brickwork laid together with poor muds and clays, barely baked and yet the inside fills with a rich shadow the congregation may breathe deeply from and find cool; the land outside barren of any good crop may yet be choked and infested with wild nettles and thorns menacing at any bare foot or flesh; shall the foot be menaced then the blood may be polluted with what the root drank from the earth below; shall the nettle be drank then may the body be refreshed with what these noxious weeds grew lush from; and the body itself be made of the same healthy materials that caused this wasteland to grow healthy, and may the sole good crop of this wasteland by found within the shade of that church built rough and inconvenient.
It is convenient to be confused, because the world itself is confused and the world itself engenders confusion within the clay and earth though it were light itself works to flood the soils with heavenly Abstraction; yesterday I had turned on the local Christian talk radio station after my Adventist pastor mentioned 99.3 during his own sermon, and wanting to hear what he referenced. 99.3 had a soft-spoken preacher with a long southern drawl talk about the Jew and the Gentile in Israel over some present conflict between Israel and Palestine; his language were such that I couldn’t tell whether the sermon had an anti-semitic tinge, if it were anti-Israel, anti-Palestine, if it had nothing to do with the current conflict, or really whatsoever he had been saying, except that he had many good Biblical citations and verses about where Jewry comes from and how modern Jewish scholars re-identified the modern Jew and something about the Bible paying no mind to these modern arguments in lieu of promise that the Gentile belongs to Israel and Israel in kind belongs just-so to the Gentile.
Not any idea what the preacher meant or what the sermon was about, like some complicated mathematic. There I failed some basic communication because my own language could not translate to the preacher, and vice-versa as well—I could extrapolate some root meaning from my own understanding, but it would be removed from whatever ground and rootwork that preacher stood on, and from where his own church had been built. From the shade within Wasteland atop Underground: I have no understanding or desire to understand what goes on within that church. Similarly: I would not wish to hold congress or disrespect my neighbor by holding his odd beliefs subject to my congress and conjectures—what-ever spirit and stonework that has overtaken his language is not mine, and should not be yours. Similarly: be mindful there of misunderstandings of language and communication, and be mindful of imparting your own conjecture upon something as fixed as Communication.
Communication ought be considered the Word monstrous itself divine, or profane (the word choice here non-important; as profane to the Righteous and as divine to the Sinister); Communication ought not be considered what-ever the self sees in opposition to the Righteous—this is conjecture and leads to base idiocy: the base idiocy of defining belief wholly around the opposite of something as nebulous as societal good and constructing for the self an idiot temple of oppositions though it would break the chains of some unseen oppressor yet binds the self by a chain even more fixed and insidious and defining; Communication comes from Underground, from the oil found in Sheol where all those executive idolatrous forms have boiled down into some earthy blood where all those shards of shattered Claypot (or Qlifot) have been suspended though almost sickle-cells through veins; the Word monstrous is a viscous fluid, real and observable and communicable through a sound not abstract but physical.
Yet in prayer today this morning I wondered in the shadow of my spirit: for what do I pray and for what cause does our Church exist? For what cause have I built within myself a Wilderness church in service of both that Thing Underground and that wide body of Lord God; for what do I pray to be offered wisdom and strength to pursue that word truly and excised of personal conjecture; for what reason do I offer my life here fleeting within illusion and eternity to annihilation, at the worship and discipleship in the palm of something broken and terrific?
The simple exoterics make the sacrifice and life seem absurd: veneration of handedness, avoidance of music and abstraction, odd Disconnections while seemingly embracing a level of Connection though I were afraid of the wage offered by Disconnection; veneration of the idol, of the physical, of the blood below in circulate and arterial networks, of some silly broken clay carcass laid out in pieces in pit below; of how I pray desperately for grace in spite of growing intensity from a gnawing darkness of teeth Annihilate—why? And: is it that absurd? The latter is the easier answer: it is, for the exoteric: it is absolutely absurd; it is as absurdly simple as the question of “am I left handed?” and how the absurd child should be able to answer it immediately and how the absurd adult gets befuddled with moronic philosophical cudgels to skirt around the absurdly known answer of “no I write with my right hand.” But why? That why is an answer of faith, and that answer is the same that drives the fanatic to the wasteland in search of rough and heavy stones to build a church pointlessly in harsh lands at the outskirts of City to exist simply in velvet shadow and drink deeply from the wilderness inside though a congregation of one yet joined to a fingertip below as a fingerprint above, though the faith and carcass yet may be graphite or groove with which an odd and alien Word is written physically into this illusion. Why? The answer is absurd.
Fill yourself with communication, and flense from yourself conjecture that would confuse communication; seek clarity if confused, and commit to self the basic language though you and your heart were a tablet in slow authorship kept of a divine work. If lacking understanding, seek tutelage; if there is no tutor: seek Wilderness, yet be mindful of naivety and earnestness in lieu of humility: what one seeks in Wilderness may not be communication but a series of convenient cudgels that warp the Word to confuse you further within this world; long service to Underground causes the Word to fill the body and mind more fully, and adjusts one to the wasteland, and permits one to find health within noxious weeds being mindful of the poisons and pitfalls with which menace the City and causes the fanatic to return to the hospitals therein.
From Jeremiah 22,
5 But if ye will not hear these words, I swear by myself, saith the Lord, that this house shall become a desolation.
6 For thus saith the Lord unto the king's house of Judah; Thou art Gilead unto me, and the head of Lebanon: yet surely I will make thee a wilderness, and cities which are not inhabited.
7 And I will prepare destroyers against thee, every one with his weapons: and they shall cut down thy choice cedars, and cast them into the fire.
8 And many nations shall pass by this city, and they shall say every man to his neighbour, Wherefore hath the Lord done thus unto this great city?
9 Then they shall answer, Because they have forsaken the covenant of the Lord their God, and worshipped other gods, and served them.
…
24 As I live, saith the Lord, though Coniah the son of Jehoiakim king of Judah were the signet upon my right hand, yet would I pluck thee thence;
25 And I will give thee into the hand of them that seek thy life, and into the hand of them whose face thou fearest, even into the hand of Nebuchadrezzar king of Babylon, and into the hand of the Chaldeans.
26 And I will cast thee out, and thy mother that bare thee, into another country, where ye were not born; and there shall ye die.
27 But to the land whereunto they desire to return, thither shall they not return.
28 Is this man Coniah a despised broken idol? is he a vessel wherein is no pleasure? wherefore are they cast out, he and his seed, and are cast into a land which they know not?
29 O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord.
this article is part of the Desk Sermons found on the Concordance