Last year at the District Convention (Regional Convention), I sat in a position that was off to the side a bit, and near enough to the stage to see the back of the stage, where everyone "gets ready".
Our "guest speaker" was Splane. He did NOT come from out of the audience, where the other brothers who had parts were (they typically sit with their families, in various locations). He entered from a back room, within just a few minutes of his part. He stood nervously around, by himself, waiting for his cue. What struck me in that moment was that he looked lonely. No one accompanied him. Alone, with this as his only forum, his claim to fame. He got his cue, gave his part, left the stage, got a few handshakes and pats on the back, then left the building thru the back entrance. No fraternizing, no encouraging lunchtime chats with the pubs, nothing. In and out like a rockstar.
It struck me in that moment that these magic 7 are not normal, they are an elite group, put on a self-imposed pedestal, far removed from reality. They are worshipped and adored as if God's own. They give nothing back but rhetoric and rules. Their words are hollow, their actions perfunctory, unfeeling, and robotic.
I have to wonder if at times, they sit by themselves, looking out the window, knowing that with 1 slight mistake, their ENTIRE world could be gone in an instant, their "friends" turning on them overnight. I wonder if at times, they feel the lonely emptiness of their facade. What a sad and pitiful life to lead.