The tough thing about being the Messiah is that you are doomed to being perpetually misunderstood.
There are the rival authorities who are constantly trying to undermine you; think Judas Brown.
Then there are the pen-pushing purists and the achingly orthodox, who see you as a sell-out and a traitor; old Labour stalwarts like Annas Benn, Caiaphas Skinner and Simon Galloway.
Again, there are the outsiders, the imperious mockers and scoffers, the noble pagans of cynical Realpolitik who see your entire tribe as a quaint little curiosity and relic, more to be pitied than crucified (although the latter is always an option, at least for shits and giggles!)
The fact is, that if the Most High himself came down to earth today, he would probably be doomed to miscomprehension.
For as Isaiah said, His ways are higher than our ways, and His thoughts than our thoughts.
No wonder, then, that Blair is ever guided by a bizarre ‘celestial wisdom’ and ‘heavenly intuition’ beyond the ken of mortal men.
Like the hymn writer, I hear my own mocking voice ring out among the scoffers.
Perhaps we are simply unrepentant blasphemers?
Our wagers are against Pascal, and not for him.
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