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Recently, the poem You were already there. Thereupon I received a response from Rob de Jong. Here is the continuation of the response 'The sky disappeared'. Read everything here: A little polemic.
The word "polemic" is too strong. I do not seek a battle with words, but rather connection, encouragement, encouragement. Thus, the 'Compelling hand calling to order' too sharp (but you say this with a wink).
You write: 'Presenting the literal in a new way...... and movement is created....... but it must not stay there if it is to achieve movement'.
But heeeee.... your little poem brought me right in motion, as some classical music can move me. Like the rhymed psalms move me through text (literally) and music (poetry)!
'No more about understanding but knowing. Not about knowledge but wisdom'.
What wisdom? That I, you, we are moved by the Holy Spirit, the Ruach (= breath), which is the 'deepening breathing', To put it in your words. God's life-giving breath! Not to knowledge alone, but also and precisely to firm confidence! You call that so beautifully: 'It is God's way in.
And if God enters, heaven enters! The "pot of heaven" is yourself. On the contrary, heaven is not gone, but closer!
I am currently reading OF/OF, which is a correspondence between two unknown writers, both of whom turn out to be Kierkegaard. It's a bit like that here, too. My response is an "epic struggle" with far too sharp and big words. It wants to make a case for wonder, bigger dreams, visions. Theological dissection gives a framework. And through a window you can look out, or let light in. It is a tool, not a goal.
My response is - not in the classical sense, but still in some sense - ironic. Not by mocking, but by gross exaggeration. After all, I can agree in substance with the first response. But in the core of the rejoinder, truth nevertheless appears to be hidden.
It is therefore a preconceived polemic. A friendly exercise in deepening understanding, if you will. It almost wants to be a directive on rhythm; a following poem. A movement of mutually reinforcing thoughts, forming new energy in the friction and abrasion. In any case, it gives me new energy and a rich inner life myself.
I wrote 'Put heaven in a jar, and heaven appears to have disappeared', you write 'The pot of heaven is yourself. Heaven is just not gone, but closer!' And then the circle appears complete, for we have landed in God's city: Jehovah-Shamah (Ezekiel 48:35), where God is always near. The last verse of the vision also wants to be the conclusion of the poem.