Morality is not a balance. It is a battle. (Like drinking) the difference between not drinking, drinking, and drinking too much is only in the heart. It is a choice of conscience. To know that one sip is wrong or one sip more is wrong is no different to the man that knows it is wrong and does it anyway. Morality is not a balance, it is a bloodbath of choice and of knowing what you are choosing. And on The Day. The Day one reaches the gates of the kingdom of heaven, the plains behind him will be soaked in blood. He will be ankle deep in bodies and bone. Walking atop the slain. His sword will be dripping with blood in his hands. And he alone will set it down at the gates. And Lo! The gates open and the sword disappears and there stands the king. The Christ. And the man looks down and lifts up the skirt of the fallen dead and sees a name on their thigh. He raises their helms and sees himself. All and everyone himself. Every choice. Slain. Every choice to hate or love, to quit or stay. To do a thing and know it was wrong—or not. A bloodbath. A thousand times ten thousand slain on the killing field. And there the man sees his life and then turns and sees Life. Just there. And he who was once an old man finally becomes a small boy again. And the king embraces him as He lifts and embraces all His subjects. And the boy cries at his giant shadow and then he laughs. And Jesus says gently to the boy, “I knew you could do it.” Together they walk through the gates into a courtyard full of little children. And one, a little girl, blonde, says, “Who are you? I think I knew you once.”
And she is familiar to the boy. He knows her but also doesn’t know. She asks if he wants to play hide and seek. And he does. But before he runs away into the kingdom, the great and mighty King says, “I have something for you.” And He reaches into his pocket and hands the little boy a white stone. The boy looks and sees and feels a name written on it. A name written in letters he has never seen but knows only he can read. He knows it is his new name. And the king says, “This is for you. Because you overcame."
And as the boy runs, the white stone whispers in his heart, "You are special to me. Out of everyone who has ever been or ever will be, only you have this name. I named you this long ago. And only you and I may know it. Which means something else: I am special to you. Out everyone who has ever been or ever will be, you know me in a particular way that no one else ever can. So we are more because of each other. I love you.”
And the boy knows he will never lose his stone. He couldn’t if he tried. He will keep it in his pocket. He will take it out and look at it. He will feel his name engraved on its side. He will put it on his shelf at night. He will sleep and sleep and sleep.