It

There is It and there is God, consisting of the sacred known and the sacred unknown. Together they comprise reality. The rest is illusion.

Everyone wants a piece of It, to do it or to feel It in some way. The created world is made of desire. There are those who don’t feel It in flesh and blood, or deny its sacramental value by cheapening It, bargaining with It, perceive it as self-pleasuring whether mutual or solo. We don’t need to believe in God, who cannot be known directly—only by a movement of the heart. There is faith, which is better than nothing, and so is self-pleasuring. Who am I to deny others their glimpse of the sacramental, their moments of thanksgiving?

It is hard to see true love in everything: ourselves; others; the whole created world with its earthquakes and plagues. There are those who turn their back on God, because death stalks the land. There may be those who think we will abolish death, or colonise places beyond Earth. But let me not rant . . .