Death, martyrdom, then paradise.... If it were merely this that gave human meaning, life would be made of swords and bullets. Outside of this, all would be merely frill: the sound of children's laughter on the verandah, the greeting of friends on the roadside, far-off song, cool rain. All of them pleasant, beautiful, worthwhile, but dispensable. They could even become obstacles, distractions, once we view history as one great battle for one great ...