Though I hardly know whether this blog has lost its objective features, I would still like to believe that it is exploring previously neglected or unnoticed aspects of Truth. That is, perhaps these thoughts have taken on some artistry in expression, rather than anything based on method, which objectivity seems to love. Can aestheticism be objective? What I write, I hope it is not (only) art for art’s sake. I mean it to be taken seriously and not be some ethereal shadow that slips from the mind with age and cynicism.

A concept which holds a pivotal place in my mind, especially in my writings and daily thought, is the notion of redemption. The notion of Man as a fallen race is not just a poetic artifice. One has only to look at the spiritual emptiness of the wealthier nations and the material poverty of the “majority” world to know that humanity is not exactly “wholesome” or “balanced” with regards to a natural order that Wilsonian world leaders all seem to dream about. Perhaps it is our mortality which lends redemption its sweetness, its urgency, its eucastastrophic glory. To be cast into the utmost hell that earth can produce and then to be raised out of it, not by our own strength or worthiness or sudden immunity to the abyss at hand, but by a supernal grace that is life-altering, moving, and timeless. Mikha El.

Why redemption is necessary is a question few moderns are willing to answer. It means admitting to old-fashioned ideas like sin, guilt, flaws – backward ideas that ignore Man the amoral animal, Man the evolved creature, advanced as he is. For them, Man has already reached his all-time low as a cousin of the ape. Therefore, acting any better than his animal counterparts is supererogatory, demanding, even unnatural. He has no need of redemption because he is naturally on the level of beasts. Does this sound right to you?

We need not call it sin, but humanity is everyday painfully aware of its deontological failures towards its race, on both micro and macro scales. Saviour, hero, deliverer, god – what does it matter what we call the means by which we renew and redeem ourselves?  Is it not a noble thing to the risk life and limb itself for your sake, your cause – dying in body or dying in spirit – by sacrifice and by toil, by martyrdom and by love, so that you might live again, however hopeless or cheap or wretched you may account your own abject existence? Such a compelling idea that from human suffering can come intrinsic good, ellipsing despair and obliterating our poor concupiscence!

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