The culture wars are grown of late so acute that it seems we shall all, on both sides, be soon forced to an outwardly testified decision for one side or the other, at cost of our lives. Perhaps I exaggerate; perhaps this shall all blow over yet again, for a while, so that we of our sort may skate by without undue cost.
Or, perhaps it shall not. Perhaps this moment is for us like all the others of our lives under the orbit of the Moon, in which we must make this very same choice.
Come what may in the wider world, we must all choose for ourselves before we die and can no longer choose. So – given the near approach of death for us all – the choice looms at every moment urgent.
For those of us who have not yet decided – for those of us, i.e., who have not yet decided either for life and order, on the one hand – for the Lógos, in short – or for death and disorder on the other: now is the time. It is time to declare ourselves, if only inwardly – but then – of course, for how could it be otherwise? – eo ipso, outwardly, and consequentially. In other words, in terms of our bank accounts, and our access thereto.
Understand: your decision will cost you your life, *no matter how you decide.* There is no way to keep your life, and eat it too. Whatever you decide, you will totally lose the alternative option.
So. Will you choose life, and order, and reason, and the Lógos? Or will you choose otherwise?
If you choose the former, you will be choosing martyry. And so will you be choosing immortal blessedness, and glory, and … all that you might ever have wished for.
If you choose the latter, then, sure, you may forever enjoy such derivative defective goods as remain to those who have forsworn the Good as such. But then, in comparison to the former choice, the latter cannot but be Hell.
I choose martyry.