Tuesday, September 18, 2012

The Resistance

by CWK

You walk by them in the street every day. You may work with them. You see them at the mall. You see them at the bookstore. You overhear them in coffee shops talking, and their voices blend with the chatter; albeit, there is a certain something in their voices. You may know one, and hardly know it. It doesn't take one to know one, but they have an uncanny knack of knowing each other. Yet, they don't stand out. More often, they stand in. They stand up. They carry, perhaps, slightly more conviction in their voice than most. And, should you engage them in conversation, you may find their views antiquated, but you will find their demeanor gracious.

Their social circles make little sense; sociologists find it near impossible to track them. In their circles, they have deep relationships and speak much of integrity; they are thick as thieves. Often, they are thick with thieves, though they deplore thievery. They seem to take in anyone. They'll just as soon cast their lot with the outcast as the in crowd.

Their political views are hard to describe; they are staunch believers in Republicanism; they sympathize with democracy. Yet, they disavow the political labels 'republican' and 'democrat.' They seem to have political views which transcend parties: which transcend partiality. They don't dress a certain way; they are not fashion forward. If anything, they are fashion backward. They don't have a certain accent. They come in all shapes and sizes, with multitudes of skin tones. They are hard to identify on external appearance alone; passing hard. They are hard to find, even harder to catch; almost impossible to keep in captivity -- and yet they seem to be everywhere. They seem to be slowly, but surely, multiplying. Regimes have tried to wipe them out by spilling their blood; their blood spilled has a strange effect. Their blood spilled is seed-like; once germinated with their words, weed-like. The more of them you kill, the more of them there are. The more they die, the more they seem to live.

Historically speaking, they are a conundrum wrapped in a blanket of fog. Some of their best known men were leaders of the scientific revolution. At present, however, they are persona non grata in many Western scientific academies. Yet, many of them fill important posts in the world of science still. They have produced many of the world's great philosophers; yet, if anything, their reputation resides just below fool. They have been derided as uneducated and backward across history. Still, there is this mystery: they have been the champions of education, and produced such men as have educated the world.

They are the resistance. They are the insurgency. They are the modern day underground. Call them what you will. They have been called many things, most nasty. At times, they are oxymoronic, almost contradictory: this is another reason why it is hard to spot them. They are counter-culture, but cultured; they care about art, and music, and beauty. They believe in justice, but liberally practice mercy. They detest Planned Parenthood, but their youth all plan to be parents; they have an uncommon value of motherhood. They distrust feminism, but laud femininity. Their men distrust men, in general, and especially themselves -- but they are always talking about manhood, and masculinity. Yet, they are not skeptical; they live by faith. Among them it has been reported that they even believe in marriage. Some, I'm told, stay married for years on end: 5, 10, even 15 (or more!) years. It is reported that among them they believe in marriage for life.

If there is one distinguishing characteristic among their kind, it is their terminology. You will notice they use out of print words such as 'patriarchy,' 'family,' 'generational,' 'courtship,' and 'grace.' But, they use the most used words less than most: the word love is especially sacred to them, and sometime whispered (pay attention for this) in hushed tones.

Call them revolutionaries; call them rebels. Call them the underground: the insurgency resurgent. Call them what you will; still, you never even called them by their name. They call themselves Christians.

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