The Logos: The Meletic Testament (Chapter 10 The Journey)
Lorient Montaner
📜 Chapter 10: The Journey
1. We left Athens not in exile, but in expansion, carrying no banners, only questions to ask and answers to be resolved.
2. Asterion had said—Let the message walk where Athens cannot. Thus, we walked with that intent.
3. The city did not mourn our departure—it had already begun to think for itself as it was evolving.
4. We were not escaping its burdens—we were extending the message of the philosophy of Meleticism.
5. The message had grown its own legs and students, and we were its steps taken forth to spread it.
6. I travelled with six others, each shaped by Meleticism, each carrying a fragment of Ariston’s wisdom.
7. We did not know where we were going, only that we must go. Not as a duty or obligation, but more as a mission.
8. The road was not marked, but the message that we had brought did not require maps to be explored.
9. Thus, we walked through the olive groves and over hills, speaking softly to the wind that accompanied us.
10. A child in a village asked—Why do you walk?’ And I said—Because thought compels us to continue our path.
11. We did not preach to anyone along he journey—instead we conversed with everyone who was willing to speak to us.
12. In the marketplace of Delos, we asked—What do you believe that you’ve never questioned?
13. Some turned away, but others stayed out of curiosity, and in their silence, the message entered.
14. We slept beneath the stars above that did not answer, but reminded us to keep going in our journey.
15. A fisherman told us—I speak to the sea, not for answers, but to hear myself think. We said—Then you are one of us in thought.
16. We did not seek disciples like the Christians—we sought only dialogue with the people and with good intention.
17. In Rhodes, a sculptor asked—Is Meleticism a religion?’ I replied—No. It is a philosophy. We do not seek to save the souls of people, we seek to restore them.
18. He carved a statue with no face, saying, ‘Let the viewer decide who it is'. We knew the message had arrived.
19. We left behind no scriptures as our presence, only thoughts that reflected our truth to the world.
20. In groves, we asked—What do you know that you cannot explain? The people there would pause into reflection.
21. We were not welcomed everywhere—some feared the quiet challenge of our presence as an intrusion.
22. But Meleticism does not resist the challenge—it remained intact in our message and determination.
23. In a coastal town, a merchant began asking us the question—What compels you to continue your journey? We responded—Our message.
24. We did not evoke the gods or a god from the heavens—we inspired with the truth and with philosophy.
25. A peasant asked us—Do you not grow weary of your journey and your message? We answered—Perhaps our bodies, but not our souls.
26. The journey was not solely a path taken to be convert people—it was a pulse for conversing with them.
27. We walked not to arrive to a certain destination that was a place, but to continue our path forth with enlightenment.
28. In a village we asked—What is the shape of a thought not yet spoken?
29. A young man drew an inner circle with outer cycles in the dust of an image we had spoken that reflected To Ena, the Logos and the Nous. That circle had been our symbol—not of belief, but of becoming.
30. We carried no religious doctrine or righteous dogma, only direction to guide us in our journey.
31. In the hills of Thebes, a woman said—I feel less certain, but more alive. We replied—Then you are now thinking more than reacting.
32. We did not seek applause for them—we sought their awareness and their participation.
33. A potter began inscribing his cups with questions, and travellers began to read them aloud as they drank.
34. The message had entered the hands, the homes, the habits of strangers who once stared at us with intrigue or distrust.
35. We walked through the pouring rain of the storms and silence, through welcome and warning.
36. Meleticism did not protect us from the hazards of nature—it prepared our path instead for our message.
37. In a city of marble, we were asked to leave, and we did—leaving behind only a question carved into the minds of that city.
38. ‘What is truth when no one is watching?’ It read, and days later, someone wrote beneath it, ‘It is everything that defines life’.
39. The journey was not ours alone—it belonged to the message that we brought to share with the people.
40. We were its travelling breath day and night, its echo and its quiet insistence to be heard.
41. In a mountain village, we found a fig tree and sat beneath it, remembering our teacher, Ariston.
42. We did not speak—we listened to the wind, and the wind seemed to ask—Where next shall we go?
43. A musician composed a melody based on our questions, saying—This is the sound of thinking. We were moved by his sincerity.
44. We did not seek to be remembered for being messengers—we sought to be understood for the message we brought.
45. In every pause, in every wondering glance, the message continued to spread. Not as a sign of a god or divinity, but the natural expression of To Ena.
46. We walked not to merely teach our philosophy, but to remind people of the Meletic Triad.
47. Meleticism was not a flame of the zealots—it was the warmth left behind by thought and wisdom.
48. In a town, a child asked—Can I think without knowing?’ We said to the child—
That is the only way to begin.
49. The journey was not a heroic gesture in our part—it was human in its endeavour and experience.
50. And so we walked, not to change the world that stood before us, but to ask it to listen to our message.
51. In the city of Myra, a clever merchant asked—What profit is there in doubt to be claimed?
52. I replied—Only the kind that cannot be stolen and said to be rewarding.
53. He laughed, but later, we saw him writing questions on his ledger to remind himself of my words.
54. The message we brought, did not demand instant replies—it dwelt in the minds of people.
55. A Pagan priest challenge us to speak our message, then warned us not to speak too freely.
56. We spoke anyway, not of the mythological gods or the god of the Christians, but of the silence between words and actions.
57. Some called us dangerous with our presence, but danger is only the name given to unfamiliar freedom.
58. In a valley of windmills, a farmer asked—Can I believe and still question your truth?
59. We said—Belief without question is possession, not understanding. The truth must always be questioned, in order for it to be relevant.
60. He nodded, and the next season, he planted seeds in remembrance to our philosophy.
61. A woman in Pergamon said to us—I feel liberated by your message. We said—Then you are free.
62. The journey was not a mere task to complete in one journey—it was an inspiration that would last for many more journeys.
63. We saw ourselves then in others reflected, and others saw themselves in us reflected.
64. A baker gave us bread and asked us—What is the taste of truth? Some seem to understand it.
65. I said to him—It is never sweet, but it nourishes the body in such a healthy manner.
66. In a city of defiant scholars, we were challenged, debated and dismissed by sceptics.
67. But one student followed us out, asking—What if everything I know is only the beginning of life?
68. We said to him as he walked with us—Then you are ready. Meleticism teaches us to explore that beginning.
69. The message does not win over defeat to seek instant glory—it waits for its true acceptance.
70. A sailor told us one day—I trust the stars, but I do not know them well. I said to him—That is wisdom reflected in the guise of the stars.
71. We did not offer that which we could not give in return—we offered only our testimony expressed.
72. In a village of weavers, they began stitching questions into their cloth that we noticed.
73. What is the thread that exists between thought and feeling?—One weaver asked.
74. We stayed the night beneath the tapestry, remembering Asterion with a great recollection.
75. A boy asked me—Is the philosophy of Meleticism a path or a place that I must reach in life?
76. I said to the boy—It is the walking, not the arrival that you should concern yourself with.
77. In a town of silence and distrust, we were not spoken to, but watched attentively.
78. Days later, a wall bore the words, ‘I do not know, and that is beautiful’.
79. The message had entered without knocking down the wall or corrupting the residents.
80. A healer asked—Can I question pain? I said—You must, if you are to understand it.
81. She began afterwards asking her patients—What does your pain want to reveal to you?
82. In the towering mountains, we met a hermit who had never heard of the philosophy of Meleticism.
83. We asked him a question—What do you think about when you are alone in your thoughts?
84. He said—Everything I suppose. We said to him—Then you are one of us in thought.
85. The journey was not lonely as we travelled—it was shared at time in silence and with people.
86. A potter broke his own vase, saying—I made it without thinking. He began again.
87. In a city of sheer gold and opulence, we were ignored by manifold. They were busy frolicking in their material things with their self-indulgence.
88. It was one of the denizens who followed us with intrigue. He asked—Why do you walk like poor people? I said—To remind the world that the poverty of the soul is worse than the poverty of the body.
89. A dancer choreographed a piece called ‘Uncertainty’—it ended with stillness and awareness.
90. Verily, we were amazed, for the message had found its rhythm even in the expression of the arts.
91. In a desert town, a man asked us—Is Meleticism against Greek tradition that we were taught?’
92. I said—Only against the reason tradition never evolves but stagnates. What good is tradition, if it does not evolve?
93. He began then asking his elders who had gathered—What did you fear when you first believed?
94. The message was never intended to erase ancient Greek traditions—it simply was meant to reveal philosophy.
95. A woman painted a mural of a inner circle with outer circles and questions, saying, 'This is how I pray now’.
96. We did not ask her to forsake her prayer for our meditation—Meleticism had become her own then.
97. In a raging storm that lasted throughout the night, we sheltered beneath a broken temple that stood erect.
98. One of us dared to ask the question to the others who were listening,—What do ruins remember?’
99. I said to him with a serious look in my eyes—Everything that was once questioned about life.
100. And the thunder seemed to agree. It brought the memory of the destruction of our Meletic temple.
101. In a city of towers, we were asked to speak, but only if we promised not to question the pagan religion.
102. We declined, and left behind a single phrase etched into stone: ‘What is built without thought will fall without warning’.
103. A child found it and asked her father what it meant—he had no answer, and so they began to think together.
104. The message does not shout aloud in words—it waits to be noticed with reflection.
105. A philosopher challenged us, saying—You offer nothing concrete. We replied—We offer what cannot be broken. What do you offer instead?
106. He scoffed, but later wrote, ‘I do not know what I believe anymore'. We knew Meleticism had entered into his mind.
107. In a village of storytellers, they began ending their tales with questions instead of morals imposed.
108. What would you have done?—They asked, and the listeners leaned forth ready for the answer.
109. The message had become a conversation, not a conclusion to predict its outcome or relevance.
110. A sculptor shaped a figure with no mouth, saying—It speaks through thought alone.
111. We saw Ariston’s wisdom in the silence of its form and awareness of its wisdom.
112. In a city of laws, we were told that questions were dangerous. We wondered what was the reason?
113. We asked afterwards—What is more dangerous—questions, or the refusal to ask?
114. No one proceeded to answer, but the question remained as a vestige of our presence.
115. A teacher of philosophy began each lesson with the question—What do you wonder today?
116. His students stopped memorising and started imagining what the question could mean.
117. The message had entered the classroom—not as curriculum, but as curiosity amongst the students.
118. A man asked—Is Meleticism useful? I said to him—Only if you wish to live awake.
119. He said to me—Then I have been asleep. He then began to explore his innermost dreams.
120. In a town of mirrors, I was asked—What do you see when you look at yourselves?
121. I said in our response—The questions we have not yet asked, because we fear knowing what they will reveal to us.
122. A carpenter began asking himself—What does silence say? He found then that some wounds speak only when revealed.
123. The message did not remove all of his uncertainties—it allowed understanding to begin instead.
124. A philosopher professed to us—I hear the message and I realise that it speaks to me.
125. Meleticism was to be catalyst for those individuals who seek to teach and to learn.
126. In a village of peasants who had gathered to welcome, they fed us food that we kindly thanked them.
127. Their act of generosity was one that we did not forget to remember or express that gratitude unto others.
128. We had travelled a great distance since leaving Athens, and we had spread the message of Meleticism. Not in the masses that the Christians sought, but in the few then many that listened to us.
129. The message had become living breath—unseen, essential, and everywhere that we journeyed.
130. In Ephesus, we arrived beneath the weight of marble and myth, not knowing what we await us.
131. The streets hummed with traders, philosophers, and preachers who spoke of their own beliefs.
132. But it was the Christians who watched us most closely with their eyes, as they had distrust for our message.
133. They gathered in homes, not temples, and spoke of a man who died and rose known as the Messiah.
134. —He is the truth, the only way to salvation—one said with the conviction of his faith.
135. I asked one of the Christians who approached us—Is truth a door, or a question that opens it?
136. They did not answer my particular question, but they did not walk away as well.
137. A woman recited—Blest are those who believe without seeing. These were her exact words.
138. I replied afterwards—And what of those who see and still ask? Are they not blest as well, according to your belief?
139. An eerie silence followed—not of offense, but of friction and the need to confront us.
140. They spoke of grace, of sin and of eternal salvation that without them, men and women were condemned.
141. I asked one of them with a direct question, 'Is salvation the end of life, or its beginning?'
142. A Christian then interjected from amongst them—We are told to believe in Christ.
143. I said—Believe in what you may believe, but know that what good is that belief, if it is not even questioned?
144. A monk warned us—We do not question the authority of God. Your questions are snares incited by the Devil.
145. —Only to those people who fear the snares of retribution. The Devil has many names conjured, but the worst devil is the one man deliberately names when threatened. Why should I fear my shadow, when I walk before it. If men did the same thing, then they would not need to fear any devil.
146. In the shadow of the great theater, we were challenged by more Christians who sought to confront us.
147. You unravel what holds us together as believers in Christ—said an audacious elder.
148. I replied to him—If it unravels, perhaps it was never woven with thought in the first place. Faith alone, forsakes the man to blind devotion that ignores reason.
149. A young Christian monk named Ignatios would ask me—Did Christ even dare to question his Father?
150. I responded—He asked him—Why have you forsaken me? That question still echoes hitherto.
151. They paused. The pause was apparently a sign of confusion for the monk; for he was surprised to know that Asterion had read their sacred scriptures.
152. The monk copied our words into the margins of his gospel, as he thought of what to say next. —I do not change the text. I change how I read it.
153. —Your text is said to contain the words of your Christ, but yet they praise more the messenger than the message itself. You have one book, but yet they contradict each other. I have nothing of the sort, except my testimony.
154. I was asked by a Christian woman named Sophia—What is different about your message and Christ? What of your messenger?
155. —Asterion is not exalted like your Christ, who was placed above the message. Asterion on the other hand, became the message, not the message became him.
156. But Christ performed miracles. We are told in the scriptures that he rose from the dead. That he is the Logos—the woman professed.
157. —The wonders in this world require no such miracles, nor accounts of them; for they are the doings of the Logos. These miracles of which you speak of are solely accounts—not the truth that can be questioned. If your miracles are to accepted, then why do Christians not question them.
158. Because we have no true authority to question them—the Christian woman replied.
159. —Then what good is that truth that cannot be questioned? And if you have no authority to question them, then what of your soul? An authority that reduces you to submit your mind, to a supposed truth that speaks more of authority than the truth itself. What virtue can you demonstrate, if it has the authority of others than of yourself.
160. The Christian woman had no answer. Asterion had revealed to her, the contradictions in her answers. He left her with one last telling admission—Jesus was not the Logos—he was a part of the Logos, like I am as well.
161. The message we spread was not redemption like the Christians—it was self-acceptance.
162. A child asked me—Is God afraid of questions that he remains invisible?
163. I said to the child—I cannot answer for this god, but if you ask me as man, I would ask—Of what does he fear, if he rules over his followers?
164. She smiled, and began to draw circles in the dust, as if by instinct she knew what to do.
165. In her circles drawn, there was a glimpse of the future unfolding in the new generation.
166. It was not ours; for it did not belong to us. It was to be the testimony of its progress in its natural course.
167. A convert followed us, then left us, then returned with a lingering uncertainty in his mind.
168. Verily, I do not know what I believe anymore—he said to us with candid admission.
169. I said to him, as I sought to comfort him—Then you are human like us. Like your Christ was once in flesh.
170. The message does not anchor in one place—it continues to sail ahead upon the seas of hope.
171. In a chapel near the harbour, we were invited to speak to a crowd of people gathered.
172. We asked the audience of onlookers—What if faith is a question waiting to be asked?
173. Some decided to leave, whilst some stayed to listen to the meaning of our message.
174. A monk enraged said to us with defiance—You are dangerous to speak against our god.
175. I uttered—Only to what demands silence. Verily, do you fear that which you wish to silence?
176. In the ruins of Artemis’s temple, we found a stone inscribed: Ask, and you shall disturb. We laughed, for the message had already passed through.
177. Another monk confessed—I pray for the kingdom of heaven to appear, as our Lord once told us.
178. I said to him with a honest approach—What then of the world that you leave behind?
179. A philosopher said to us—You are neither builders nor destroyers. You are messengers.
180. I replied—We are like the wind—what stands will stand, what bends will bend.
181. He nodded, and began to teach differently with new wisdom and knowledge to guide him.
182. A certain woman who wished to remain anonymous wrote a hymn with no refrain, only questions.
183. It was sung in the agora afterwards, and no one clapped—they listened with attentive ears.
184. In the silence that proceeded, the message echoed its meaning to others who had heard it.
185. We were asked by several people—Have you changed the world with your philosophy?
186. My response was—Only the witnesses who hear our message can answer that question.
187. The journey was not over, but it had become a pulse for us to continue and to be inspired.
188. Meleticism as a philosophy was no longer ours—it belonged to those people who questioned.
189. And to those people who dared to question belonged to no one but their minds.
190. We walked on ahead as was our habit—not to provoke, but to stir the souls of others.
191. For the message of Meleticism is not a doctrine—it is a revelation that leads to wisdom.
192. In Antioch, we were not embraced, but we were not questioned as well. The people were at least curious.
193. The Christians did not accept our philosophical message, but some began to ask and to question their faith then.
194. And in daring to ask, they became something newer than what they were before.
195. Not Meletics, not apostates—just awakened in their views and their acceptance of knowledge.
196. The message had entered the breath of others who we had met along the journey.
197. It no longer needed our voice to be heard amongst the people. The echo would reverberate.
198. It had become a lingering question in the mouths of strangers and the people we had met along the way.
199. And so we walked on prepared, knowing the message we brought would walk without us.
200. It was the realisation that we had spoken our message, and that we had revealed the way of the truth.
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