Author Topic: A Private Prayer from a Preacher of Broken Faith  (Read 631 times)

Offline RSO

A Private Prayer from a Preacher of Broken Faith
« on: December 12, 2017, 06:30:30 AM »
Governor, or whatever clerk in Our Governor's House on whom falls the duty of hearing the prayers of people like me. This is my plea for help, for we are losing the war.

Not the civil war. Not Pyrakre and Rhegius. Maybe we deserve to lose that one, for how we mishandled Our Governor's Word. For how we were so bent on pursuing the lapses of the Dadrians that we ignored the heresy within our own. For how swiftly we strayed from both Dictates and simple dignity in the exercise of war. We were poor stewards of Your holy kingdom, and if it is Your will that we should fall, then so be it.

We are losing the war for hope, and for the hearts and souls of Your people. Each day that the lesser war rages, my congregation gets smaller. Time once was that even Dadrians came to hear me speak, now only the most pious remain. When the Legions come, 'tis the Word that bears the fault of their deeds. When the Pyrakreans come, 'tis the selfishness of mankind. With each wave that crashes against Addercliffe, the war takes from us a little of our faith in You and, and a little of our faith in each other. Soon, we shall be without faith in either, and I should be an empty woman, preaching to empty pews.

Have we not suffered enough? If this be a war to teach us humility, have we not learned it?

I have only three complete works of Your books: Salvation, Ceremonies, and Warfare. Every night, I study this incomplete collection, seeking to understand. In Salvation, You command that a missionary should seek to connect The Word to the lives of the flock. What am I to teach people in such a time as this? These people know already all that I could teach from Ceremonies. Lessons from Warfare only pick at the scabs over the resentment these people hold for the War around them. And in Salvation, Your lessons in agriculture and sanitation seem as distant to them as dreams, for my flock isn't allowed the choice of what crops to plant, or what sewers to dig.

Warfare would command me to call for the Legions to depose the tyrants, and allow my flock to take charge of their life and lands. But the Legions cannot come now, and when they came before, they were but another tyrant. I am but one piece of Your design. What is the wheel to do when the axle is broken?

I should not think such thoughts. Of Consequence, I have but few chapters, and my own imperfect memories, but I know that if the wheel is bent and un-round, she should not blame the axle.

Yenin wrote that missionaries must be a model for our flock, and be exemplars of the gifts the Law we would impart. It is only the already pious who remain to listen to me now, and before them, I am a model of naught but doubt. In this, I see one of my errors. In my heart, I knew when I came to Addercliffe that I was fleeing the war. I knew that under Your law, a missionary will be the last conscripted. It was an cowardice, not piety, that led me to this life. Tomorrow, I shall put that right. I shall take arms and serve my flock as their protector, until either they have no more need of me, or breath leaves my body.

Whichever it is to be, I beg that it be soon.

Please, end the war. If we must lose - then let it be so. If we all must die for unfaithfully keeping Your laws - then let it be so. Command it, and we who have failed you will march to the gallows.

But I beg that you have mercy on those who never had a chance to hear the Word. End the starvation and disease that protracted war has left behind. Show those who remain that they are still Your people, and that You are still their God. And also, let the Archives survive. The Dictates are Your greatest gift, after Life itself. Even if we are unworthy of them now, let them remain for another generation.
DoN - Eveszhra, Elven Scum
IoA - Agata Tir'ennoska