The Supper Table of the Most High

The Supper Table of the Most High

When wisdom sits at the supper table of the Most High, silence becomes a garment of righteousness. For what is silent cannot be wrong, and what is quiet cannot betray the truth. The wise speak only when the Spirit stirs; the foolish speak because their tongues cannot rest.

And at that sacred table, the Holmes Brothers and their companions made a ruin of every good thing. Blasphemy rose from their mouths like smoke from a broken altar, and suffering sat beside them as an uninvited guest.

For the plates before them were hot — hot with the heat of God, so hot that the food did not burn, but their tongues did. Every word they tried to swallow scorched them, every blessing they tried to steal blistered their lips.

What God gave to the righteous as nourishment was given to them as fire. They could not taste what we taste, nor partake in what we partake, for the gifts of God become torment to those who twist goodness into mockery.

They said, “Serve the dish cold; it is better that way.” But I say: I would rather eat my turkey cold than speak without wisdom. I would rather learn than take from one who listens. I would rather be silent than steal from the table of truth.

And so whatever they eat, God sets before them on a plate of fire — a heat so fierce that the world must turn three times before the day cools again.

Only then will the supper table be restored, and gluttony will no longer be written upon their foreheads. For the heat of God removes the mark of excess, and the silence of the wise restores the feast.