Brothers, You Are the Wall

Dark clouds gather. Friends stare off toward the horizon and debate what they mean. The only ones who don’t feel that something ominous draws near are those so delusional they insist there are no clouds at all.

Nobody listens to them. We know we have entered a dark time and the light is fast fading. People are nervous. They are seeking security. Gun sales are up and everybody knows something is about to go down.

People long for a wall, one strong enough to protect them from what lies on the other side. On one side, is everything worth cherishing: family, tradition, the very dignity of the human person, hunkered down awaiting the attack.

On the other side of that wall, all the darkness of our times, the confusion, the rebellion, the embodiment of every invisible pain and horror bent on vengeance.

The only hope is that the wall will hold. That wall, the first and only line of defense, is made up of no more than men, good men willing to stand their ground as the enemy approaches. Good men whose eyes are fixed on the approaching threat and whose minds are fixed on all the vulnerable huddled behind.

Brothers, you are that wall.

The wall of defense is strong so long as the stones within it are solid, hard and bound tightly together, each in its place. No stone alone deters an enemy, but together they can create an unassailable barrier.

Together, that mix of stones can hold back the forces of decay that, save for that wall, would march roughshod over every holy thing. Each stone must know what is at risk. Each stone must do its duty, must hold under the pressure of entire armies.

Brothers, you are that wall.

Cowards and traitors abound, slipping in behind the wall. They tunnel beneath; they chip away at the indispensable mortar. They cry all day and throughout the long night, “There is no enemy. All is well. Tear down the wall and see.”

Against these subversions too, the wall must stand.

Others see the truth. They love the wall; rely on its constant watchfulness, its faithful guardianship. The wall, merely by standing, stirs in the breast of good men a call to deeper honor. They join its ranks. The wall grows.

Brothers, you are that wall.

The darkness also grows. And yet, behind the wall, despite their anxiety, the people press on as best they can. The old reminisce. Beautiful girls stroll the streets and parks. Babies sleep in peace. The darkness beyond the wall troubles them, but little. Mostly, they know the wall, and its strength on which they depend.

For now the wall stands, making space within its boundaries for life, and order, and joy and stillness, dignity and whatever justice is possible. All these, the enemy would destroy.

Brothers, you are that wall.

And that wall, it must not fall.

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