Conversations on The Function of Government

This text (introductions, the 12 letters, and analysis) contains 10,391 words and would take 41 minutes to read from start to finish. 8039 words are from the 12 letters which would take roughly 31.5 minutes to read on their own. The reading level is College. Click here to read the children’s version (7 minute read at a 6th grade level).

Introduction to Conversations on The Function of Government

This collection of letters chronicles a profound journey of transformation as Zachary guides his friend James through the complexities of justice, faith, and the true nature of authority. What begins as a discussion on the morality of resisting unjust governance evolves into a sweeping exploration of divine reality, human flourishing, and the ultimate purpose of government. Central to their exchange is the idea of the Philosopher King—a model of leadership rooted in wisdom, justice, and divine patterns—which Zachary introduces not just as an ideal to serve but as a calling to embody.

Through honest questions, challenging truths, and practical insights, these letters address themes such as the sovereignty of God, the illusion of evil, and the necessity of living in alignment with truth. They explore how faith informs reason, how justice sustains human flourishing, and how resisting systems of exploitation is both a moral imperative and an act of worship. Each letter builds on the last, offering a compelling vision of how individuals can live as reflections of divine reality and agents of justice in a broken world.

Letter 1: Zachary to James "The Duty to Resist Tyranny"

Context: Zachary opens the correspondence by introducing the moral imperative to resist unjust governance.
Explanation: Zachary argues that governments lose their legitimacy when they abandon justice and that resistance to tyranny is an act of moral self-defense. He challenges James to prioritize reason and justice over compliance with oppressive systems.

Disclaimer: This letter includes Zachary's first reference to Jesus Christ. Because the name is widely used and misused, it’s essential to clarify its meaning here. For Zachary, Jesus Christ embodies the Torah, the Word of God, the Law of God, and the logic of the universe. He sees Jesus as the promised Messiah of the Hebrew Scriptures (e.g., Isaiah 53) and the Philosopher King anticipated by Greek thinkers centuries before His birth.

When Paul of Tarsus referred to Jesus as “a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks” (1 Corinthians 1:23), he acknowledged Jesus as a mysteriously rejected fulfillment of both traditions. The Jews and Greeks shared a common idolatry: they desired the form of the Messiah King—a physical kingdom—while rejecting His function as the suffering servant who came to circumcise hearts (Romans 2:9) and teach wisdom (Republic, Book VII, 519d–e, 520d).

Israel’s history illustrates this idolatry. Under Solomon, the nation became a kingdom obsessed with external glory but fell into sin (1 Kings 11:1–5). This led to the division of the kingdom around 975 BC, the Northern Kingdom's destruction by Assyria in 721 BC, and the Southern Kingdom's exile by Babylon in 586 BC. By Jesus’ time, only the Judeans of the Southern Kingdom remained, clinging to ethnic purity and chosenness while neglecting their calling to “follow justice and justice alone” (Deuteronomy 16:20).

Similarly, the Greeks rejected their Philosopher King, Socrates, in 399 BC, executing him for teaching reason and wisdom. Centuries later, Greece fell to Rome at the Battle of Corinth (146 BC).

Today, this idolatry persists in modern Judaism and secularism. Modern Judaism expresses it through the nation-state of Israel, which idolizes its identity as a government while often practicing blatant injustice. Modern secularism mirrors this idolatry in the United States, which likewise masquerades as a government while committing similar injustices. Both nations prioritize their forms of power over the justice and wisdom God demands.

These letters aim to show how genuine faith in Jesus Christ—both the suffering servant who redeems and the Philosopher King who leads—fulfills humanity’s deepest longings and challenges these idolatrous systems.

Dear Sir,

I hope this finds you well, though I’ve sensed confusion in our recent conversations about the morality of disobedience to government. I want to share some thoughts that might clarify why rejecting certain forms of authority is not only permissible but necessary when that authority has abandoned its proper function.

A government’s legitimacy is derived solely from its function: to protect the rights, freedoms, and well-being of its people. When it ceases to perform this function—when it becomes an instrument of coercion, fraud, or violence—it is no longer a government in the moral sense. It becomes a gang of thugs with a facade of legality, demanding obedience not through reason or justice, but through the threat of force.

You owe no moral duty to a system whose ultimate argument is a gun. The moment an entity, be it a government or any other institution, credibly threatens violence to sustain itself while abandoning its rightful purpose, it forfeits its claim to obedience. In that moment, you are not dealing with a government deserving respect, but with a criminal enterprise cloaked in formality.

Morality is a contract of mutual respect and rational benefit. It cannot apply to those who violate it through coercion or fraud. If they choose to live by the sword—whether that sword is the gun of an enforcer or the pen of a judge upholding fraudulent debts—they have chosen a battlefield where they cannot appeal to the morality of the mind. They will meet the sword of self-defense wielded by those who choose to live by reason, not fear.

Anyone, however, can embody the proper function of government, regardless of position or title. The legitimacy of governance is tied to the fulfillment of its purpose, not the form it takes. A person who acts to protect life, justice, and reason, even in the absence of official authority, is fulfilling the role of government. This is why Jesus taught, "The kingdom is within." The authority to govern morally does not come from external institutions but from the alignment of one’s actions with the principles of truth and justice.

Remember this principle: "Those who live by the sword will ultimately fall to the sword of those who live by the mind." This is not an incitement to violence, but a recognition of reality. Resistance to tyranny is not an act of rebellion—it is an act of self-defense at its highest moral level. To submit to a government that has lost its proper function is to betray the kingdom within yourself and abandon your obligation to reason and justice.

I hope you’ll come to see the distinction: obedience is owed to a government fulfilling its rightful purpose, but resistance is a duty when that purpose is abandoned. Let us move forward, not with malice, but with unwavering clarity and conviction.

Yours in reason,

Zachary Moore

Letter 2: James to Zachary "The Practical Cost of Resistance"

Context: James responds with practical concerns about the consequences of resistance.
Explanation: James explores the real-world implications of resisting oppressive power, including the potential harm to oneself and others. He questions how to balance moral clarity with the realities of power dynamics and whether compliance can ever be justified to minimize harm.

Dear Zachary,

Thank you for sharing your letter. I can tell it comes from a place of deep conviction and careful thought, and I respect the principles you’ve outlined. However, as I reflect on your arguments, I find myself wrestling with some practical concerns. I hope you’ll indulge me as I try to untangle my thoughts and pose a few questions.

You’ve articulated a compelling case for the moral duty to resist tyranny, particularly when authority is no longer aligned with justice and reason. But in practice, doesn’t this leave us vulnerable to a sobering truth: those who possess superior force often dictate outcomes, regardless of their moral standing? History seems to suggest that while "those who live by the sword" may eventually fall, they often do so after wielding that sword to devastating effect against those who stand on principle.

Consider this scenario: if a government or group with coercive power threatens violence against you or your community, isn’t it rational—perhaps even necessary—to treat their capacity for harm as a practical reality? The distinction between legitimacy and brute force may be clear in theory, but on the ground, force often feels like the deciding factor. How, then, does one reconcile the right to resist with the practical impotence that can come from being outmatched by superior might?

You write that "those who live by the sword will ultimately fall to the sword of those who live by the mind." It’s a beautiful sentiment, but I wonder if it underestimates the durability of tyranny when backed by overwhelming power. Can reason and justice truly prevail without the means to enforce them? If might doesn’t make right, what does right require to avoid being rendered impotent in the face of superior might?

I also find myself grappling with the human cost of resistance. If resistance invites violent retaliation—retaliation that often harms not just the resistor but also innocent bystanders—at what point does the moral duty to resist become outweighed by the pragmatic duty to protect lives? How do we navigate the tension between standing on principle and minimizing harm?

Your reference to Jesus’ teaching that "the kingdom is within" resonates deeply. It’s a profound reminder that moral authority starts from within ourselves, not from external systems. But even Jesus taught his followers to “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.” Does this imply a pragmatic acceptance of governance, however flawed, to avoid unnecessary conflict? Or is it a subtle endorsement of resistance, a way of saying, “Give them their money, but not your soul”?

I’m asking these questions not to dismiss your arguments but because I genuinely want to understand how they hold up in the messy, complex reality we live in. How do we balance moral clarity with the practical realities of power? How do we ensure that our resistance to tyranny doesn’t unintentionally cause greater suffering or leave us vulnerable to forces we cannot control?

I value your insights and look forward to hearing your thoughts. Perhaps, together, we can explore these questions further and refine our understanding of what it means to live justly in an unjust world.

Yours in curiosity,

James

Letter 3: Zachary to James "Evil’s Illusion of Power"

Context: Zachary addresses James’ concerns, offering a perspective on the true nature of evil.
Explanation: Zachary explains that evil has no real power and sustains itself only through the compliance of the good. He calls James to trust in God’s sovereignty and reject fear, showing how withholding consent from evil can lead to its collapse.

Dear James,

Thanks for your letter. I can tell you’ve really thought this through, and I appreciate the chance to engage with your ideas. You raise important points, and they’ve made me reflect on some fundamental questions about power, morality, and what it means to resist evil in the real world. Let me share where my thoughts have taken me.

You asked whether evil might be practically unbeatable when it wields superior force. It’s a fair concern—after all, history is filled with examples of oppressive regimes, brutal leaders, and criminals who impose their will through violence. But here’s the thing: evil itself has no real power. Its strength comes entirely from the compliance of those who are good. A thief may demand, “Your money or your life,” but the moment someone complies, they’ve given the thief not just their money but their consent to the terms. Evil thrives not because it’s inherently powerful, but because people allow it to dictate the rules.

The same is true for oppressive governments. They survive by convincing people to fear them, to accept that resistance is futile, and to submit for the sake of safety or practicality. But the truth is, they rely on the consent of the governed—even if that consent is given out of fear. Without that, they crumble. Evil is parasitic; it produces nothing and sustains itself only by feeding off the good. The moment the good refuse to cooperate—when they say “No” and withhold their sanction—evil collapses under the weight of its own irrationality. It can’t survive without our participation.

You mentioned the harm that can come from resisting. It’s true, resistance often comes at a cost, and it’s heartbreaking when the innocent suffer. But compliance with evil also has a cost—one that’s often far greater. When good people submit to injustice out of fear, they enable it to grow stronger and harm even more people. Refusing to comply isn’t about being reckless or seeking martyrdom; it’s about denying evil the legitimacy it craves. Yes, standing firm might invite consequences, but it’s the only way to break the cycle of oppression.

Your question about “rendering unto Caesar” ties into this perfectly. A lot of people interpret Jesus’ words as a call for compromise, as if we’re supposed to divide our allegiance between God and the state. But think about it: what does Caesar truly own? Sure, the coin bears his image, but everything ultimately belongs to God—especially us, since we’re made in His image. If we give God everything that’s His, what’s left for Caesar? Nothing. Jesus wasn’t endorsing dual allegiance; He was exposing the hypocrisy of those who claimed to worship God while bowing to Caesar. His answer forced them to confront the reality that they couldn’t serve two masters. They had to choose.

That’s still true today. If we serve God with all our heart, soul, and mind, there’s no room left for divided loyalty. That doesn’t mean we rebel with violence or reject authority recklessly, but it does mean we don’t give our obedience to any power that demands we betray God’s law or our conscience. When Caesar—or any government—asks for what belongs to God, the answer must be no.

I get that this can feel idealistic, especially when facing real threats. But think about it: if evil truly held all the power, why would it need to rely on fear and deception to secure compliance? The fact that it demands submission proves its weakness. It can only survive if we agree to play by its rules. The moment we stop, its facade crumbles. History is full of examples where individuals or movements said “No” to overwhelming force and, in doing so, exposed the hollowness of their oppressors.

Ultimately, the choice is clear. We either worship Caesar and live in fear, or we worship God and live in freedom. Evil wins only when we let it, when we trade truth for safety and bow to its demands. But when we refuse to consent—when we live as though God is our only King—evil is powerless to stand against us.

I hope this helps clarify where I’m coming from. I’m grateful for the chance to wrestle with these questions alongside you. Let’s keep the conversation going—I’m curious to hear your thoughts.

Yours,
Zachary

Letter 4: James to Zachary "Balancing Resistance with Practical Realities"

Context: James responds to Zachary’s assertion that evil’s power is illusory, questioning how to reconcile the need to resist with the real-world consequences of resistance.
Explanation: James explores the tension between moral clarity and practical considerations, raising concerns about the tangible harm inflicted by evil and the cost of resistance to oneself and others. He grapples with the complexity of living justly in an unjust world and invites Zachary to offer further insight into navigating these challenges.

Dear Zachary

Thank you for your reply—it’s clear that you’ve thought deeply about this, and I appreciate the way you’ve laid everything out. Your conviction is inspiring, and your arguments about the impotence of evil without the consent of the good make a lot of sense in principle. But I’m still grappling with a few concerns, and I’d like to hear your thoughts.

You emphasize that evil has no real power, only the illusion of it sustained by the compliance of good people. I want to believe this. But isn’t the very fact that evil can harm us enough to make its power real? A dictator might rely on fear and deception, but if they have the means to enforce their threats—armies, prisons, surveillance—doesn’t that make their power more than just a facade? Refusing to comply with evil may starve it eventually, but in the meantime, can it not still do enormous damage to the innocent? How do we balance the moral imperative to resist with the practical imperative to protect?

You also write about saying “No” as the ultimate act of defiance. I admire that strength, but what happens when the cost of that “No” is not just personal suffering but suffering for others? For instance, if my refusal to comply results in harm to my family or community, have I upheld justice, or have I failed to protect those I love? At what point does standing firm become an act of selfishness rather than courage?

Your interpretation of “render unto Caesar” is compelling, especially the idea that giving everything to God leaves nothing for Caesar. But doesn’t this assume that we can live entirely outside the systems of power and governance? Even Jesus acknowledged Pilate’s authority during His trial, saying that it was given to him “from above.” Is there not a role for imperfect human governments within God’s plan, even if they fall far short of His standards? How do we navigate this tension without falling into complicity?

Another thing I’m wrestling with is the practical reality of resistance. You say that evil collapses when the good withhold their consent, and I can see how this is true over time. But in the short term, it seems like resistance often brings suffering before it brings change. How do we weigh the long-term hope of defeating evil against the immediate cost of resistance? Is there ever a point where it’s better to comply temporarily to preserve life and regroup for a stronger stand later?

I don’t mean to sound defeatist, and I hope these questions don’t come across as trying to poke holes in your argument. I’m trying to understand how to live these principles in a world where the line between right and wrong often feels blurred by practical realities. Your perspective challenges me to think beyond fear and convenience, and I’m grateful for that.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Maybe you see something I’m missing or have a way of framing these dilemmas that could help me better understand how to act when faced with real-world challenges.

Yours in thought,

James

Letter 5: Zachary to James "Faith, Reason, and Submission: Confronting Evil’s Illusion"

Context: Responding to James’ concerns about the tangible harm caused by evil and the complexities of resistance, Zachary shifts the discussion to emphasize God’s sovereignty and the lessons found in scripture about aligning with reality.
Explanation: Zachary reframes evil as an illusion that derives its power from fear and compliance, arguing that submission to God and reality, rather than violence or evasion, leads to flourishing. Through a practical illustration of farming and the lesson from Genesis 3:17-19, he conveys that resistance is not about reckless defiance but about trust in God’s control and the alignment of actions with truth and justice. By highlighting examples like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, Zachary shows how faith can overcome even the most oppressive forces.

Dear James,

Thank you for your thoughtful letter and your honesty about the challenges you’re wrestling with. Your concerns are real, and I hope I can respond in a way that helps—not by dismissing your fears, but by offering a deeper perspective on why faith in the benevolence and power of God, along with an understanding of the practical impotence of evil, is the ultimate answer to those fears.

You’ve asked how we can confront evil when it seems to wield so much power—whether through oppressive governments, corrupt systems, or even personal harm inflicted by others. The truth is this: evil’s power is an illusion. It draws its strength from our belief in its permanence and authority, but it cannot ultimately stand against the sovereignty of God.

At its core, evil is not a thing that exists independently. It is the absence of good, just as darkness is the absence of light. God, being the source of all good, has no rival. There is no cosmic battle between two equal forces of good and evil; there is only God, whose power is infinite, and a world He created as good. What we perceive as “evil” is often the misuse of that good by beings with free will. But even when harm is inflicted, God’s purposes cannot be thwarted. He promises to use everything—yes, even suffering and apparent evil—for the ultimate good of those who trust Him.

Let me offer you a practical illustration. Imagine a man standing in a field, hungry and desperate for food. He yells at the field, beats it, and threatens it with violence if it doesn’t produce what he needs. Does this cause the field to bear fruit? Of course not. The field cannot be coerced by fear or violence into producing food. Only by humbling himself, learning the necessary skills, and applying reason and labor can the man cultivate the field and produce a harvest. If he refuses to humble himself, he will perish of hunger.

Now imagine that, after mastering this skill, another version of himself arrives and demands that he produce food for them, using the same tactics—yelling, threats, and violence. Will this compel the farmer to grow the food? Again, no. The farmer’s knowledge and skill cannot be extracted by force. The only way to access the farmer’s production is through acknowledgment of his work and a willingness to trade on his terms. If the violent intruder kills the farmer, he might enjoy one season’s worth of produce, but after that, he too will perish.

This principle is embedded in Genesis 3:17-19. After Adam’s rebellion, God declared:

“Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.”

Many interpret this as a curse, but it is also a profound lesson. In his rebellion, Adam sought to evade the truth of his dependence on God and the reality of creation. God’s declaration was not mere punishment; it was a necessary consequence designed to teach Adam and his offspring that survival and fellowship with God require submission to reality. Only through humility, labor, and the application of reason could Adam learn what it means to live in harmony with the world God created and, ultimately, in fellowship with the Creator Himself.

This lesson transcends agriculture. It teaches us that violence, evasion, and rebellion against reality do not lead to life or prosperity. Whether it is the ground beneath us or the relationships we depend on, flourishing comes only when we submit to reality and align ourselves with the truth. This is why evil, which denies and distorts reality, is inherently impotent.

You asked about the cost of resistance and whether it’s selfish to take a stand when it might bring suffering to others. But what if the greatest gift you can give to those you love is the example of a faith that stands firm, even in the face of danger? Faith is not a passive resignation to whatever happens; it’s an active trust that God is in control and that His purposes are good, even when we can’t see them. When we act in obedience to God, refusing to comply with what we know is wrong, we demonstrate the power of that trust—not only to ourselves but to everyone around us.

This principle is echoed in scripture. When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to bow to Nebuchadnezzar’s idol, they faced the fiery furnace with these words: “Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Daniel 3:17-18). Their faith was not contingent on God sparing them from suffering. It was rooted in the conviction that God’s purposes were good, no matter the outcome. And God used their faith to demonstrate His power—not just to save them but to transform an entire kingdom.

The question you’re asking—how can we stand against evil in a world that seems ruled by it?—is ultimately a question of trust. Do we trust that God is good, that He is in control, and that He will use all things for our good? Or do we allow fear of harm to dictate our actions? Faith doesn’t mean we won’t suffer; it means we believe that even our suffering serves a higher purpose.

Finally, I want to leave you with this thought: God’s love for you is not contingent on your ability to stand perfectly or to have all the answers. His love is constant, unchanging, and sufficient. The power to confront evil does not come from us; it comes from Him. Our job is to trust and obey, and His job is to work everything together for good.

I hope this encourages you and gives you a new perspective on the questions you’re wrestling with. I acknowledge this letter is a bit longer, but I hope its length serves to bring clarity and hope. I’d love to hear your thoughts and continue this conversation.

Yours in faith and friendship,
Zachary

Letter 6: James to Zachary "Breaking Free from False Teachings"

Context: James reflects on the false teachings that have shaped his understanding of authority and compliance.
Explanation: James recognizes how societal, governmental, and even religious teachings have led him to prioritize obedience to human authority over God’s justice. With clarity and gratitude, he commits to breaking free from these influences and living in alignment with God’s sovereignty.

Dear Zachary

I don’t quite know how to start this letter except to say thank you. Truly, thank you. I’ve spent the last several days reflecting on what you’ve shared, and it feels as though a fog is lifting—a fog I didn’t even know I was living in. Your words, grounded in truth and faith, have shown me how deeply I’ve been shaped by false teachings, by lies wrapped in the language of authority and piety, and by my own fear of standing on the truth. But now, for the first time, I feel the clarity, confidence, and freedom that only come from knowing who God is and trusting fully in His sovereignty.

For so long, I’ve been deceived. Society taught me to comply with evil, to justify injustice with pragmatism, and to excuse cowardice as prudence. The government taught me that obedience to its authority was synonymous with morality, regardless of how unjust its laws or how oppressive its systems. And the church—the place I once thought was a sanctuary of truth—too often preached submission to external powers while neglecting the Kingdom of God within me. They told me to honor Caesar without ever teaching me to question whether Caesar had any legitimate claim over me in the first place. They taught compliance with the sword, even when that compliance meant rebellion against God’s justice and love.

But now I see it. I see how these teachings—whether born of ignorance, cowardice, or malice—led me away from God, not toward Him. They fed my fears, paralyzed my conscience, and made me complicit in systems and actions that grieved the heart of the God I claimed to worship. By teaching me to fear the powers of this world more than the power of God, they made me a servant of men rather than a servant of Christ. And yet, God’s mercy is greater than my rebellion, His love deeper than my failings.

For the first time, I feel the truth of Jesus’ words: “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” I feel free—not because the world around me has changed but because my heart and mind have been realigned with the reality of God’s sovereignty. There is no government, no institution, no threat of harm that can separate me from His love or override His purposes. The power of evil is nothing but a shadow, and the sovereignty of God is the light that dispels it.

I realize now how much I have worshiped the idols of this world—security, approval, comfort—without even recognizing them as idols. I see how I have bowed to Caesar, not just with my taxes or my compliance with unjust laws, but with my fear, my silence, and my misplaced trust in human systems to provide what only God can. No more. I will no longer render to Caesar what belongs to God. I will no longer rebel against reason and justice by submitting to lies and corruption. My allegiance is to Christ alone, and my worship belongs to the God who is truth, love, and justice.

The confidence I feel now is not in myself but in God. If He is for me, who can be against me? If He spared not His own Son but gave Him up for me, how can I doubt His goodness or His power to work all things for my good? Even when harm comes—because I know it will—I will not despair. Even if I am brought low, I will not be shaken. Because my trust is not in this world but in the One who made it. He is sovereign over all, and His purposes cannot fail.

As I write this, my heart is full of gratitude and worship. I see now that every step of my journey, even the darkest moments, was part of His plan to bring me here—to this understanding, this freedom, this faith. I am overwhelmed by His patience with me, His relentless pursuit of my heart, and His willingness to use even my failures to draw me closer to Him.

Thank you for being the vessel through which God spoke these truths to me. Thank you for your courage in standing firm, even when the world—and maybe even friends like me—didn’t understand. Your faith and obedience have been a light in the darkness, pointing me back to the God who loves me and calls me His own.

From this day forward, I will live not in fear but in faith, not in compliance with evil but in obedience to God, not as a slave to human powers but as a citizen of His Kingdom. I will trust His sovereignty, proclaim His truth, and walk in His love, no matter what comes. To Him be the glory forever and ever.

Gratefully and confidently,
James

Letter 7: Zachary to James "The Call to Embody the Philosopher King"

Context: Zachary introduces James to the concept of the Philosopher King as a model for leadership and alignment with divine patterns.
Explanation: Zachary explains that the Philosopher King embodies wisdom, truth, and justice and serves as a reflection of Christ. He calls James to not only serve this ideal but also to embody it in his life and elevate others by recognizing the divine order within them.

Dear James,

Congratulations, my friend, on your newfound faith and freedom! Reading your letter filled me with joy—not just for the clarity and strength you’ve found but for the journey that lies ahead of you. Your understanding of God’s sovereignty and your decision to trust Him completely mark the beginning of a life aligned with divine patterns. It’s a powerful place to be, and it’s a foundation for something even greater.

Your letter reminded me of a timeless concept—the Philosopher King. This isn’t just an abstract idea about governance or leadership; it’s an invitation to embody wisdom, justice, and truth in every corner of your life. The Philosopher King is not merely a ruler or a figure of authority; he is a living reflection of the divine order, a pattern of righteousness and harmony that transcends any single person. And here’s the incredible part: your realization that God is sovereign, that you are free in His love, and that evil has no power over you is your first step toward becoming a Philosopher King in your own right.

The Philosopher King is not someone we serve externally; rather, he is an image of Christ—the ultimate embodiment of wisdom and justice. To serve the Philosopher King is to serve Christ, to align yourself with the divine order that governs all creation. But this concept doesn’t stop at serving; it calls us to become. You, James, are being called to embody the principles of the Philosopher King—to lead your life in alignment with the patterns of truth, justice, and rationality that flow from God’s sovereignty.

This calling doesn’t end with you. Part of the beauty of living in alignment with the Philosopher King is recognizing that others, too, bear this image. Your newfound clarity and confidence give you the ability to elevate others—to recognize the divine patterns in them and help them grow into their own calling. Whether in your family, your community, or the relationships you build, you now have the privilege of seeing and drawing out the image of the Philosopher King in those around you.

Proverbs says, “By me kings reign, and rulers decree what is just” (Proverbs 8:15). This wisdom reminds us that true power and authority come not from force or fear but from harmony with God’s will. To serve the Philosopher King is to serve justice, wisdom, and truth. To become the Philosopher King is to reflect those divine qualities in your own life. And to elevate others in this pattern is to build a world that mirrors God’s kingdom.

James, your faith, and freedom are not just for your own sake; they are a gift that will ripple outward to those around you. As you walk in this new understanding, know that you are serving the ultimate Philosopher King—Christ Himself. Let Him guide you to live with wisdom and justice, to embody truth, and to lift others toward this same divine calling.

I’m excited to see how God uses you in this season and beyond. You have been called to something greater, and I know you will rise to it.

With admiration and joy,
Zach

Letter 8: James to Zachary "Living as a Reflection of the Divine"

Context: James concludes the correspondence by affirming his commitment to embody wisdom, justice, and truth.
Explanation: James expresses his gratitude for Zachary’s guidance and shares his vision for living as a reflection of God’s sovereignty. He commits to serving Christ, inspiring others, and leading a life fully aligned with divine patterns. This letter brings the correspondence to a powerful and hopeful conclusion.

Dear Zachary

Thank you for your letter. It’s rare to feel both challenged and deeply affirmed in the same moment, but that’s exactly what your words did for me. You’ve helped me see that this journey of faith is not just about my relationship with God—it’s also about how I live, who I become, and how I can call others into the same alignment with His divine order.

The concept of the Philosopher King, as you’ve described it, resonates deeply. I now see that serving Christ is the ultimate expression of wisdom, justice, and truth. It’s not about waiting for someone else to lead but about letting His patterns shape every aspect of my life so that I can reflect His authority in my family, my community, and beyond. I hadn’t thought of it this way before, but I realize now that my obedience to God doesn’t just honor Him—it creates space for others to see His sovereignty and step into their own calling.

What struck me most in your letter was this: the Philosopher King is not just someone I am called to serve but someone I am called to become—and in becoming, to elevate others who share that same image. This isn’t about power in the worldly sense but about the power of truth and alignment with God’s will. That’s a humbling and awe-inspiring thought, and I’m grateful for your clarity in showing me what this path looks like.

Zach, I feel ready—not in the sense of having all the answers or knowing every step ahead, but in the sense of trusting fully in God’s plan. He is sovereign, and as long as I walk in His truth, I know I’ll be where I need to be. Your encouragement has been a gift, and I hope to carry this understanding forward, serving, becoming, and elevating as God calls me to.

Thank you for helping me see this. Thank you for pointing me back to Christ, the true Philosopher King. And thank you for reminding me that in His order, there is freedom, purpose, and life.

With gratitude and resolve,
James

Letter 9: Zachary to James "The Glory of Alignment with Reality"

Context: Zachary responds to James’ commitment by painting a vivid and inspiring vision of the rewards of living in alignment with God’s reality.
Explanation: Zachary celebrates James’ journey and expands on the richness of a life lived in truth and faith. He describes the endless joys—spiritual, intellectual, and physical—that await those who align themselves with the logic of God embedded in reality. This letter serves as both a celebration of James’ transformation and a call to continue the ascent toward all that is good, beautiful, and true.

Dear James,

Your last letter was a joy to read. To see your mind and heart open to the profound truths of reality is to witness the first steps toward a life of unimaginable promise. Faith in God’s sovereignty is not just the foundation for confronting evil; it is the gateway to every good and perfect gift that reality holds for those who align themselves with its logic, its beauty, and its inexhaustible richness.

Let me tell you about the world that awaits those who walk in this alignment—a world not bound by fear, evasion, or the capricious whims of men, but by the rational and loving order of God. In this world, every good thing is possible because every good thing is promised by the One who authored all existence.

Imagine waking each day with a spirit of eagerness and adventure, the kind of joy we knew as children before we were burdened by the arbitrary cruelty of the irrational. In this world, there is no fear of deceitful men, no suspicion of their motives, no weight of arbitrary power crushing your spirit. You will live among responsible beings whose lives are as consistent and reliable as the rising of the sun, a society where objective reality is the only standard of judgment and truth is honored above all else.

And what is the reward for such alignment? It is justice—a justice that protects your virtues and leaves no foothold for vice. It is a justice that opens every door to the good and allows no room for the destructive. Your work will be rewarded with respect, not pity or condescension. Your gifts will be celebrated, not envied or stolen. Every moment of labor, every act of love, every ounce of creativity will bear fruit, multiplying the beauty and abundance of a society devoted to truth.

James, faith is not just about defeating evil—it is about pursuing the infinite riches of life itself. This alignment with God’s reality is the foundation of every joy and delight you have ever longed for: the laughter that springs from deep connection, the savor of decadent food shared with those you love, the exhilaration of a hard-fought game, the wonder of space travel, and the deep satisfaction of creating beauty that reflects the divine.

You’ve got a lot to look forward to, my friend. And yes, I mean the good stuff—great sex included. When you’re living in alignment with reality, when your heart is free from guilt, and your mind is clear of evasion, you can experience intimacy as it was designed to be. Not the fleeting, fumbling gratification that leaves people empty, but the kind of mind-blowing, soul-connecting ecstasy that comes from a deep, unashamed union between two (or more) people who truly see and value each other. Do you understand what I’m saying? That’s the kind of gift God built into creation, and trust me, it’s worth pursuing.

It is the promise of the enduring and the profound. It is the harmony of music and the sweep of a great novel, the marvel of science and the awe of a star-filled sky. It is the thrill of discovery and the comfort of home. All of it—every masterpiece, every moment of meaning—is the reward for obedience to the logic of God embedded within reality.

This is not a utopia offered at no cost. As with every great endeavor, this life requires a struggle—but it is a purposeful struggle. It is the ascent from one ledge to another, each victory bringing you closer to the summit. It is the labor of planting and nurturing, knowing that the harvest will come. It is the rejection of evasion and violence and the embrace of humility, reason, and love. And even if the full sunlight of this world is not seen in your lifetime, you will live and die in its glow, sustained by the promise of what lies beyond.

Do you see it, James? Do you feel the pull of that world? It is not distant or unattainable; it begins here and now with each choice to align yourself with reality, each act of trust in the God who made you. Faith is not resignation; it is a declaration that the struggle is worth it because the reward is not merely survival but flourishing, not merely existence but glory.

Let your mind and your love of existence decide. Choose to align yourself with the reality God has given us, to become the Philosopher King who embodies wisdom, justice, and love. Every good gift awaits you, James—not as alms, not as indulgence, but as the natural reward of a life lived in alignment with truth. This is the world you are capable of winning, and it is worth everything.

With joy and anticipation,
Zachary

Letter 10: James to Zachary "The Promise of New Creation and the Resurrection"

Context: In response to Zachary’s vision of the rewards of living in alignment with God’s reality, James reflects on the brokenness of human existence, including suffering and loss. He ponders the promise of restoration for those who have "fallen asleep" and celebrates the hope of resurrection and the glory of new creation.
Explanation: James acknowledges the beauty of Zachary’s vision but wrestles with the reality of broken bodies and lives cut short. He resolves his questions by drawing on the promise of resurrection and the renewal of all things, finding comfort and joy in the assurance that God’s ultimate plan includes the restoration of both the faithful and creation itself.

Dear Zachary,

Your letter was stunning—both in its vision and in its scope. It filled my heart with hope and my mind with wonder. The picture you paint of living in alignment with God’s reality is both glorious and compelling, a life free from fear, overflowing with justice, and filled with every good and perfect gift.

But as I read, a question kept surfacing in my mind: what about those who never see this fullness in their earthly lives? What about those whose bodies are broken, whose years are cut short, or whose struggles seem insurmountable? What about those who, as scripture says, have “fallen asleep”? Can they, too, share in this vision of glory?

As I wrestled with these questions, a profound truth emerged: the promises of God are not confined to this lifetime. They are eternal, encompassing not just this world but the world to come. For those who are faithful, there is the promise of resurrection—a new body, a new creation, a new life that surpasses even the best this world can offer.

The Apostle Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15:42-44 come to mind:

“So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.”

This promise is staggering. It means that no brokenness is permanent, no loss irredeemable. The faithful who have gone before us are not lost but waiting to be clothed in glory, restored to life, and welcomed into the fullness of God’s creation. Those who have struggled in weakness will rise in strength. Those who have endured pain will know perfect healing. Those who have died will live again, not as they were but as they were always meant to be—imperishable, glorious, powerful.

This vision answers my questions about the brokenness of this world. It reminds me that faith is not only about what we experience here and now but about the hope of what is to come. It is the promise that the same God who raised Christ from the dead will also raise us, and with us, all of creation.

Your description of the joys of life in alignment with reality—great music, deep connection, meaningful work, even mind-blowing intimacy—takes on an even greater significance when seen in the light of resurrection. These joys are not fleeting; they are a foretaste of what awaits us in the new creation. They are a glimpse of a reality where every good thing is magnified, every relationship perfected, and every delight eternal.

And for those who have passed, their story is not over. They will rise again, and they will share in the glory you described. They will laugh, create, explore, and rejoice alongside us in the new heavens and the new earth. The broken will be made whole, and the faithful will be crowned with life everlasting.

So yes, Zachary, I do see it—the pull of that world. It is a world that begins now but stretches beyond our lifetimes into eternity. It is a world worth every struggle, every sacrifice, and every act of faith. And it is a world that gives meaning to every moment, even in the face of loss and suffering.

Thank you for reminding me of this hope and for pointing me back to the God who makes all things new.

With gratitude and anticipation,
James

Letter 11: Zachary to James "The Call to Reject Hypocrisy and Serve the Philosopher King"

Context: Building on James’ reflections about the promise of resurrection, Zachary urges James to live out his faith actively in the present. He warns against the dangers of hypocrisy, using the example of the Pharisees, and calls James to embody justice, truth, and humility in service to the Philosopher King.
Explanation: Zachary challenges James to move beyond passive hope and embrace the hard, immediate work of justice. By exposing the hypocrisy of those who outwardly profess faith but serve selfish or irrational ends, Zachary underscores the need for integrity and alignment with God’s truth. He applies these principles to the practical rejection of exploitation, including the modern monetary system, and calls James to resist injustice while embodying the virtues of the Philosopher King. This letter serves as both a warning and an exhortation to live faithfully in the tension between present realities and the ultimate promise of restoration.

Dear James,

Thank you for your heartfelt letter and the hope it carries. Your vision of renewal and resurrection is inspiring, a testament to your growing faith in God’s promises. But as we reflect on the glory to come, I must urge you to consider the present with even greater focus. The evidence of a life truly aligned with reality is not found in passive hope for future salvation but in a confident and active pursuit of justice now.

Jesus warned us of a dangerous hypocrisy—the kind that defined the Pharisees, who thought they were the chosen ones but only adopted the form of righteousness while ignoring its substance. They followed rituals and laws outwardly, yet their hearts were far from God. Jesus did not mince words when He called them “children of your father the devil” (John 8:44), servants of Satan and the irrational void, whose lies and self-deception blinded them to the truth.

The Pharisees were consumed by the illusion of their own piety. They loved their positions of power, their public displays of holiness, but they rejected the true justice and mercy of God. They served not the Philosopher King but themselves, worshiping the lies of the void instead of the Logos, the Word of God. Jesus described them as whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but full of death within (Matthew 23:27).

James, this is the warning for us today. It is not enough to profess faith or to imagine ourselves aligned with truth while our actions deny it. To live in alignment with reality, to truly serve the Philosopher King, we must actively embody justice, mercy, and truth in all that we do. This means standing with bold humility before God while defying every irrational enemy of His reality. It means rejecting fear, lies, and compromise and living as lights in a dark world.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). But meekness is not weakness or passivity; it is strength under control, humility before God paired with unyielding defiance against evil. Only those who live this way—those who hunger and thirst for righteousness now—will see God, not only in the future but in the present reality of His kingdom breaking into this world.

One of the most pervasive injustices of our age is the system of monetary exploitation, built on fraud and usury. It is a system that thrives on deception, enslaving people by convincing them to voluntarily participate in their own imprisonment. This system is designed to control production and labor through its false promises and fabricated currencies. But, James, there is a way to resist it.

Through the application of logic and reality, I’ve come to realize that all debt contracts made in this system are voidable—for lack of consideration. What does this mean? It means the currency we trade with, these dollars that are nothing more than fabricated tokens of debt, hold no intrinsic value. They are not backed by anything real, and thus, no true exchange occurs. To participate in this system is to trade your labor and life for a lie.

The way forward is difficult but clear. We must refuse to work for these empty currencies. If you have a skill—construction, farming, dentistry, engineering, medicine—use it to trade directly with others. Honor their virtues and skills, not with deceptive forms of currency but through just and meaningful exchange. For those who are still willing to give you their products or services in exchange for this fraudulent currency, understand what is truly happening: they are, in effect, donating their labor, their creativity, their life’s energy for free, though they may not yet see it that way. This is a sobering truth, one that should lead us to treat these interactions with clarity and a sense of justice—not to exploit them, but to expose the lie and offer an alternative rooted in reality.

Moreover, if you must engage with the system, consider this: take on debts in this currency and challenge any institution that attempts to enforce them. Require them to prove that they lent you something of value. Since value must arise from something that exists and serves a purpose, and since the dollar is fabricated from nothing, they will be unable to do so. This is how you can plunder the immoral structures of this world, much as God allowed the Israelites to plunder their idolatrous neighbors. Such actions are not theft—they are the reclaiming of what is just in a world built on injustice.

And here is one more point to consider: not everyone will have the means to pay you in gold, silver, or bartered services. When this happens, look for the Philosopher King within them. Are they meek before God and defiant against the systems of injustice that enslave others? If so, consider it your service to the Philosopher King to provide for them freely. Many of the best among us will suffer in this world because they refuse to participate in the beast system. Will you punish them for this? If you do, how can you claim to serve the Philosopher King?

Jesus reminds us of this in Matthew 25:21-36, when He commends those who fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and visited the imprisoned, saying, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” But let me clarify: poverty alone is not evidence of the Philosopher King. Jesus Himself said, “The poor you will always have with you” (Matthew 26:11). Instead, let us judge righteously and serve those whose lives demonstrate alignment with truth and humility before God.

James, this path will not be easy. It is hard by design, for the system feeds on the compliance of its prisoners. Yet, to align ourselves with God’s reality is to reject such deceit and to live in true freedom. This is what it means to serve the Philosopher King now, not in mere words or beliefs but in the substance of our lives.

Let us not fall into the comfortable illusion of faith without action, of love without justice, or of salvation without transformation. To live in alignment with God’s reality is to embody justice, mercy, and truth in all that we do. It is to defy the irrational systems of this world and to stand firm in the freedom Christ has given us.

With gratitude and steadfastness,
Zachary

Letter 12: James to Zachary "The Courage to Confront the Convictions of the Unjust"

Context: Building on Zachary’s warning against the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and the corrupt systems they upheld, James reflects on the challenge of confronting those who unknowingly perpetuate injustice. He explores the difficulty of resisting a fraudulent monetary system, especially when its defenders believe they are enforcing justice. Drawing on Jesus’ words in John 16:2, James acknowledges the tension of living faithfully in a world where those who resist exploitation are often labeled as criminals by the very systems they seek to expose.
Explanation: James acknowledges the staggering reality of the monetary system’s inherent injustice, recognizing that resisting it will bring opposition not only from those who benefit from it but also from those who blindly defend it as just. He resolves to confront this challenge with courage, trusting in God’s sovereignty and the guidance of the Philosopher King. Reflecting on the Pharisees’ blindness to true justice, James commits to standing firm against misguided convictions while serving and honoring those who reflect God’s image, particularly those suffering under oppressive systems. This letter marks James’ determination to align his actions with truth and justice, even at great personal cost, as he embraces the role of a servant of the Philosopher King.

Dear Zachary,

Your last letter has left me pondering deeply—not in doubt, but in preparation. The truth about the monetary system is staggering, not because I didn’t see its flaws before, but because I didn’t realize how fully its corruption shapes the world we inhabit. Now, having seen it clearly, I understand the enormity of the challenge ahead. It’s not just about standing against those who knowingly exploit; it’s about resisting the multitudes who act with unshakable conviction that they are upholding justice when they are, in fact, destroying it.

The Pharisees come to mind again. They were so certain they were the righteous ones, so convinced that their defense of the law was a service to God, that they missed the substance of justice entirely. Jesus exposed their hypocrisy, not by condemning their conviction but by revealing that their conviction was rooted in lies. They upheld systems and practices that were comfortable, familiar, and self-serving, while rejecting the justice and mercy that God truly desires.

This is the fear I wrestle with now—not of standing against evil, but of confronting those who believe they are doing good as they enforce the terms of this unjust system. Debt contracts, backed by nothing but deception, will be upheld with fervor by those who believe they are protecting order and fairness. The unthinking masses, acting out of habit, will label us criminals. The zealous defenders of the status quo, blind to the system’s fraud, will call us anarchists or worse. How do we confront such determined opposition without losing sight of the justice we seek to uphold?

Jesus’ words in John 16:2 echo in my mind: “Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” Those who persecuted Him did so with the conviction that they were righteous. They believed they were preserving order, honoring tradition, and serving justice. But in their blindness, they crucified the very embodiment of truth and justice.

This is the challenge before us. The monetary system, like the temple system of the Pharisees, has embedded itself so deeply into the fabric of life that to resist it is to invite scorn, condemnation, and even violence. Yet, as you’ve said before, evil’s power is an illusion. Its strength lies not in its substance but in the compliance and belief of those who sustain it. And this belief, once exposed, cannot stand against the light of truth.

So, Zachary, I will not fear those who act with misguided conviction. Instead, I will prepare myself to stand firm, not by appealing to their assumptions, but by exposing the lies that undergird their actions. I will reject the tokens of this system, not out of defiance for its own sake, but as a declaration of allegiance to the Philosopher King and His justice. And where I see the image of the Philosopher King in others, especially in those suffering under this beastly system, I will serve them with humility and honor, knowing that in doing so, I serve the King Himself.

This resistance will not be easy, but you’ve shown me that it’s not supposed to be. The cost of standing for truth is high, but the cost of living a lie is far greater. I am ready, not because I am fearless, but because I trust in the sovereignty of God to guide and sustain me.

Thank you for your wisdom and your courage. You’ve shown me a path that is narrow, but it leads to life.

Yours in truth and justice,
James

Analysis of Conversations on The Function of Government: Faith, Reason, and True Authority

Zachary’s letters to James weave together theology, philosophy, and practical action, offering a coherent framework for understanding government, justice, and faith. Drawing on influences from Locke, Aristotle, and scripture, Zachary challenges James to see government not as an institution defined by power but as one defined by its alignment with justice and divine truth. The letters highlight the necessity of resisting tyranny, the promise of human flourishing, and the call to embody the ideals of the Philosopher King.

1. The Purpose of Government: Justice and Human Flourishing

Zachary grounds his argument in the principle that government’s legitimacy stems from its function: to promote justice and protect the well-being of its people. He writes, “A government’s legitimacy is derived solely from its function: to protect the rights, freedoms, and well-being of its people. When it ceases to perform this function… it forfeits its claim to obedience.”

Philosophical Support:

• John Locke: In The Second Treatise of Government, Locke argues that governments derive their legitimacy from their ability to protect life, liberty, and property. Zachary echoes this, extending the concept into a theological framework.
• Aristotle: In Politics, Aristotle emphasizes that the purpose of government is to enable citizens to achieve virtue and happiness. Zachary draws on this idea, suggesting that true governance fosters human flourishing in alignment with divine patterns.

Scriptural Insight: Zachary emphasizes the sovereignty of God, citing Luke 17:21, “The kingdom of God is within you.” He argues that legitimate authority must reflect divine justice, aligning with the biblical principle that rulers are accountable to God (Romans 13:1-4).

2. The Illusion of Evil and the Nature of Power

Zachary reframes evil as an absence of good rather than a force with inherent power, arguing that unjust authority relies on the compliance of the good to sustain itself. He writes, “Evil thrives not because it’s inherently powerful, but because people allow it to dictate the rules.”

Philosophical Support:

• Thomas Aquinas: Aquinas’ description of evil as a privation of good informs Zachary’s argument that unjust systems lack legitimacy because they deviate from their purpose.
• Locke: Locke’s concept of the social contract aligns with Zachary’s assertion that tyranny persists only through the consent of the governed.

Illustration: Zachary uses the metaphor of a farmer working with the land to demonstrate that coercion is ultimately impotent. Flourishing comes only through alignment with reality and truth, just as effective governance comes through alignment with justice.

3. Faith as the Foundation for Justice

Faith is not merely a shield against evil but a lens through which individuals see and pursue the glory of God. Zachary emphasizes, “Faith is the gateway to every good and perfect gift that reality holds for those who align themselves with its logic, its beauty, and its inexhaustible richness.”

Philosophical and Theological Parallels:

• Ayn Rand: Zachary bridges Rand’s reverence for reason with Aquinas’ theological framework, identifying God as the ultimate source of truth and logic.
• Aristotle: Zachary’s vision of faith aligns with Aristotle’s belief that living in accordance with reason leads to eudaimonia (human flourishing).

4. The Philosopher King: Embodying Divine Patterns

Zachary introduces the Philosopher King as both an ideal to serve and a pattern to embody. He challenges James to reflect divine wisdom and justice in his own life, writing, “The Philosopher King is not someone we serve externally; rather, he is an image of Christ—the ultimate embodiment of wisdom and justice.”

Philosophical Support:

• Plato: The Philosopher King, as described in The Republic, is the ideal ruler who governs through wisdom and truth. Zachary reinterprets this concept through a Christian lens, identifying Christ as the ultimate Philosopher King.
• Locke: Locke’s rational approach to governance resonates with Zachary’s call to embody truth and wisdom.

5. Faith, Justice, and the Rejection of Exploitation

In his later letters, Zachary applies these principles to practical resistance, particularly against the unjust monetary system. He argues that this system, built on deception and usury, must be actively opposed. He writes, “To participate in this system is to trade your labor and life for a lie.”

Practical Application:

• Rejecting fraudulent debt contracts: Zachary encourages James to challenge the legitimacy of these contracts, exposing their lack of value.
• Living justly: He urges James to trade services directly, honoring virtues and skills instead of perpetuating exploitation through false currencies.
• Serving the Philosopher King: Zachary calls James to recognize and serve the image of the Philosopher King in others, particularly those suffering under oppressive systems.

6. The Glory of Creation and the Promise of Restoration

Zachary celebrates the joys of a life lived in alignment with reality, emphasizing that these joys are both a foretaste of God’s kingdom and a promise of the resurrection. He writes, “Faith is not merely a defense against tyranny but an invitation to pursue the infinite joys of creation.”

Scriptural Resonance: Zachary draws on biblical promises such as 1 Corinthians 15:42-44, affirming that the resurrection is the ultimate restoration of justice and creation.

Conclusion: A Call to Align with Truth

Through these letters, Zachary and James explore the tension between resisting present injustices and embracing the ultimate promise of restoration. Zachary’s insights into government, justice, and faith challenge readers to live as agents of the Philosopher King, embodying truth and mercy in all they do.

Faith, as Zachary demonstrates, is not passive—it is the active pursuit of justice, beauty, and alignment with divine reality. In resisting tyranny, rejecting exploitation, and reflecting God’s order, individuals not only confront evil but also participate in the glory of creation. This correspondence is a powerful call to live faithfully in the present while anticipating the ultimate restoration of all things.