(From Part II of Bk II of The Golden Path)
(The Bishop and his wife, The Dean and his with Miss Georgina Jones, whom, with her suckling baby, The Bishop has just rescued from being abandoned on a park bench, discuss ‘Miracles’ in The Deanery kitchen  – The Miracle is also Miss Jones giving the childless Bishop’s Wife her baby, ‘so she can start again in love’)

Juliette St John-Stevens, The Bishop’s wife gilded new by a miracle, still suffused with the joy shining about her, entered quietly with, “Georgina told me it all felt like a miracle to her – well it does to me too”.

The Dean, reverting to deep thought, approached miracles a little elliptically for having had them thrust down his throat in his theology training to make all sorts of nonsenses of his practical engineering experience where he had been in the habit of manufacturing miracles as part of his Company’s daily bread, “ever since there have been religions their ‘priests’ have based their capture of ‘the faithful’ upon the prevalent belief in magic, so manufactured miracles to buttress their capture  –  the Old Testament is full of them while Jesus’s godhead was buttressed by The Apostles with stories of miracles”.   His friends waited expectantly just catching the beginnings of another ‘Dean demolition job’.   “With priests peddling miracles so strongly”, he reflected, “we’ve come to believe the essence of miracles is their breech of the Laws of Nature – but today we’ve seen the truth of miracles because they’re really a breeching of the habits of Man”.

He smiled to himself deep in his Platonic path, “miracles are the result of Man acting outside his training, understanding, and close-kept groove, to respond innately to his deepest nature, to bring good out of evil  –  so to turn dame Fate’s happenstance into gold”.  Silence schlepped.  “Suddenly”, pronounced The Dean apostolically, “when he is shown something awful his carapace of convention falls off to reveal the truths of what is before him to which he reacts instinctively  – Ellen’s Ex-Eden gift of Love bursts forth to drive his acts”.

Everyone waited quietly for the fulfillment.  “The Miracle”, he continued deep in his own dialectic, “is his abandonment of the carapace he has taken such long endeavour to wind around him so he does things differently  – then to ascribe to things which result their simple logical truths  – water into wine is merely a perception of the virtues of water and wine”, he finished a little Olympically.

The Bishop, recognising himself exactly in the exposition his friend had so tellingly made, mused quietly, “I like that John as all the nonsenses theology thrust at us come clear at last as the love of what is right forces us to make right happen which”, he stated more forcefully, “means we can all make the earth move in mysterious ways – no God needed – to bring the impossible to pass every day merely by stepping outside our conventional cage to ‘make miracles’.

“Just so Giles”, concurred The Dean, “miraculous for two reasons – miraculous for the vanquishing of evil by good which we all desire but hardly ever have the courage to enact ourselves; then miraculous because so rare –  because calling us to act upon a truth revealed, which truth most of us find too bright to look at so prefer the grey of equivocation, which”, he accented forcefully, “is the sadness of today with ‘it’s not your job’ thrust down our throats by the bloody Welfare State so keen to assume absolute power over us  – miracles ‘aren’t allowed’ in Welfare States”, silence schlepped as everyone reflected on these desperate truths.

“I recognise myself in John’s exposition exactly”, agreed The Bishop quietly, “when I saw the desperation and despair in Georgina’s face then the suckling baby the carapace fell off me like an outworn coat, abandoned as suddenly dirty; it was as much a miracle for me as those who directly benefitted, because without the dirty cloak a new me appeared as well……… there is no price we can ever place on that”.

“Miracle did for me too”, reflected Georgina quietly, “‘s Giles’s gift spurred me on to mine to Juliette  – so I feel utterly new now Baby’s going to be loved in a wonderful new home”.  The silence continued its peregrinations as the company set these shining joys against The Dean’s damnation of the State in which they lived whose imprisonments their Bishop had so splendidly set aside for so pregnant for the New Theism with which they were all wrestling.

© Margaret Montrose   www.thegoldenpath.co.uk

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