Life is a gift
It was just a bet.
Or was it?
From the folly of the undiscerning came the wisdom of the infinite; from the pitiful, quite pitiful proud ignorance of the blind quite unexpectedly dawned the vision of perpetual light…
And yet who are men to appreciate such celestial, divine power? God created people in His own image and yet we are and will be born with imperfections. No matter how many bites off the fruit of knowledge of what is good and what is bad, “all that the unresting thought of a man has created in the ages is compressed only into a small compass of His brain”…
Rights to understand what really goes on in the long run were not granted to mere mortals. We will have no right.
And it was just a bet.
Strange, absurd, perfectly, terribly surreal, true—but still just a bet.
The lawyer and the banker would never have imagined it when they were still young and eager and foolish—but neither did they when old and tired, for still, they were foolish—but sometimes we get the best and the worst of the outcomes of the greatest plans there could ever be in a single toss of a coin, in something as man-made as a bet, in which people auction off their souls, their futures, their worth…
And yet, bless him! The lawyer came close.
Not only did he come close to winning the bet—after all, it was just a bet; he came close to actually proving that with man’s limited perception he was blessed with the right, the blessed right of understanding what there really was in truth. He never guessed it, never saw it coming, but it came. Within his grasps were the truth, the peace of fifteen years that resembled the tranquility of the Sabbath. He read other books, played the piano, talked, smoked, drank, ate, cried, learned different languages, performed miracles, slain, burned towns, preached new religions, conquered whole kingdoms but he only existed once in that small world of solitary confinement—that was when he had his hands over the pages of the Gospels. He was very close
Or was it?
From the folly of the undiscerning came the wisdom of the infinite; from the pitiful, quite pitiful proud ignorance of the blind quite unexpectedly dawned the vision of perpetual light…
And yet who are men to appreciate such celestial, divine power? God created people in His own image and yet we are and will be born with imperfections. No matter how many bites off the fruit of knowledge of what is good and what is bad, “all that the unresting thought of a man has created in the ages is compressed only into a small compass of His brain”…
Rights to understand what really goes on in the long run were not granted to mere mortals. We will have no right.
And it was just a bet.
Strange, absurd, perfectly, terribly surreal, true—but still just a bet.
The lawyer and the banker would never have imagined it when they were still young and eager and foolish—but neither did they when old and tired, for still, they were foolish—but sometimes we get the best and the worst of the outcomes of the greatest plans there could ever be in a single toss of a coin, in something as man-made as a bet, in which people auction off their souls, their futures, their worth…
And yet, bless him! The lawyer came close.
Not only did he come close to winning the bet—after all, it was just a bet; he came close to actually proving that with man’s limited perception he was blessed with the right, the blessed right of understanding what there really was in truth. He never guessed it, never saw it coming, but it came. Within his grasps were the truth, the peace of fifteen years that resembled the tranquility of the Sabbath. He read other books, played the piano, talked, smoked, drank, ate, cried, learned different languages, performed miracles, slain, burned towns, preached new religions, conquered whole kingdoms but he only existed once in that small world of solitary confinement—that was when he had his hands over the pages of the Gospels. He was very close