God is okay. He's got big shoulders. He's okay with our - with our questioning and our - you know, I think the bigger the question, the bigger the answer, you know? It may be sickness, it may be loss, it may be disappointment, but sometimes you feel like heaven's silent, that "God, how-how can this be love?" But actually, if you go back to the Word, you know, it just underpins everything.
The sole work and deed of universal freedom is therefore death, a death too which has no inner significance or filling, for what is negated is the empty point of the absolutely free self. It is thus the coldest and meanest of all deaths, with no more significance than cutting off a head of cabbage or swallowing a mouthful of water.