Good tidings to you, darkened faithful, citizens and visitors. I'm right heartily glad to see you this evening.
I suppose some of you may not have met me, but for you have seen me scurrying about in Darmahk, but in any case I am Acolyte Moxiette Poplucia of The Lord's Temple.
You may or may not be familiar with them, but there are a number of parables that circulate within the Dahkoarhim religion, devoted specifically to surmounting fear with courage. Oh, I could name a handful: 'Seryesa and the Beast,' for one. 'The Three Disciples,' or 'The Boulder in the Holy Land...'"
I won't share one in particular, because I become perhaps 'overly-animated' during story-telling and I mean to respect your time...
But maybe their genre is coming to your mind, now. Usually, an archetypal underdog stands up to seemingly unconquerable odds. The central character is self-confident, independent and brave enough to fight for The Lord, despite the incredible peril that stands in their way and the fleeing of their countrymen. They are rewarded with success, in turn. This kind of tale is commonly told to children in prayer schools, and remembered as important allegories within congregations. Since there are so many versions and retellings of each, it is clear that the message represents sacred doctrine.
The -popular- moral is this: go forth and face The Lord's opposition, for the heroically courageous are sure to be victorious.
And yet...
That isn't what these fables are truly about. At least, they're hardly so simple. While it is true that courage is an essential, glorious virtue, the courage that is exhibited here is a derivative value. It is empowered by something else, entirely, which is the core value deserving of most of our study.
Before we begin discussing the origin of the heroes' courage, it is important to ask why the communities at large, in the various stories, lacked it when faced with their respective tales' major conflict. How do the stories arrive to the moment where no one, save the hero or heroes, will face the enemy? At first, the answer seems simple. Seryesa's people were being plagued by an eleven-foot beast, an avatar of massacre. The battalion that three disciples fought alongside was grievously wounded and vastly outnumbered in their battle. The boulder that blocked the path for pilgrims into the holy land, as the story goes, was evidently unmovable and threatened to cause a deadly rockslide even if it -could- be budged.
Those who failed to act because of fear, in all of these stories, did so because action seemingly equated to suicide. They were sure they would fail, and so they cowered as a result. Mind you, however, that these communities were worshippers of Dahkoar, and were well aware of the almighty strength of Darkness. And the heroes of these stories, too, were just as physically outclassed against the odds as anyone else.
In this way, the fearful majority stands as an example. Those communities were too afraid to act because, in the moment, despite knowing His awesome power, they decided their fears were bigger than Dahkoar. They believed if they faced the opposition, they would be doing so on their own and be sure to die.
So, what made Seryesa, the three disciples and he who moved the boulder different than the rest, throughout their individual stories, given that were physically average individuals, on par with all the rest? Well, it wasn't necessarily some innate, raw fearlessness, as popular culture may suggest.
No, the courage of these mighty characters derived from their faith in The Lord, and that any step down the One, True Path would not be taken in vain. They were not tremendously self-confident as they might appear, but rather exceptionally confident in The Lord.
They believed, wholly and without reservation, that The Lord was divine and preeminent in all things. If it was His will that His followers would succeed, then they absolutely would. Further, the heroes believed that The Lord's ultimate plan would be righteous. Basically, they saw Dahkoar as bigger than the opposition.
The kind of courage that the Dahkoarhim tenets demand, that which renders even the ultimate personal sacrifices negligible, and pushes one beyond their mortal boundaries, is not an autonomous, self-generated virtue. Courage is always produced by faith, whether our faith is in The Lord or placed elsewhere. Courage is a derivative virtue.
For the devoted member of the Dahkoarhim faith, a lack of courage is always evidence of a lack faith in Darkness. Some 'beast,' or 'army' or 'boulder' is looming larger than The Lord in our perspectives. Facing the odds seems impossible, or even very difficult, and the thought immobilizes us. All of us experience this fear, even the heroes that populate our faith's fables. To fear is, to some degree, a natural mortal quality. That is why these parables are so important, and helpful to keep in mind -- faith will persevere when the well of your own personal bravery runs dry. You must look to The Lord, or your highest faith for courage.
While fear is inevitable, allowing it to control you and divert you from The Path is gravely sorry, indeed. Know this: when you balk, or when you cower when that which you claim to have faith in calls you to action, you are proclaiming your doubt. You are slandering what you worship as faulted. Bear in mind, our fears are not primarily about ourselves, though they feel that way. They are, instead, primarily about The Lord and the causes we devote ourselves to. You are doubting not yourself, but -their- worth, their righteousness, their strength.
Our call, as followers of The Lord is to cease our cowering and further Darkness, drawing on it for faith-given courageousness, lest we admit our own disbelief.
Comments