Peter's Account

     Blood. Blood I tell you. I've never seen such a sight. His anguish, his dread, seeping from his pores. No, not sweat. Blood.  And we were sleeping. What excuse did we have? None. We were blind. He asked us to watch for him while he prayed, but we slept.  We didn't know, we didn't understand.  He told us this day was coming, but we didn't believe him.  Yet, here it was.  I heard the footsteps before I saw the light of the torches.  Soldiers.  Romans.  How I despised them.  And there, showing them the way was the traitor, the coward. Judas. 

     They confronted us there in Gethsemane. Judas betrayed him with a kiss. With a kiss. Can you believe that? As they went to arrest him, my anger welled up inside of me, or maybe it was fear and sheer adrenaline. I don't know; it doesn't matter.  I drew my sword and swung with all my might.  I cut off the ear of one of the soldiers. No. It wasn't my intent to remove his ear; I wanted to remove his head.  I would have done it too, but he commanded me to stop. Then he healed him. Right there, he healed his captor. Sense? No, it didn't make sense, but then again, a lot of things don't make sense to our feeble minds, do they?

     When he didn't resist, we fled. Yes, we ran. I am ashamed of myself. I abandoned him in that hour.  But I followed them at a distance.  I joined in with a crowd outside, warming myself by a fire and not knowing what to do. I tried to blend in, but someone recognized me. They called me out as a follower, and I lied. I told them I didn't know him. Three times I told them, then the rooster crowed. It was too much. I was miserable, alone, and scared. I saw him then, through the window. He met my gaze, and I knew. I knew that he knew, and I couldn't bear it anymore. I had denied him. The Son of God, and I had denied him. I wanted then to die.

     They put him on trial. It was a corrupt affair to be sure. Then they scourged him, and crucified him. They treated him like a thief, like trash, like dung. The Son of God, and they treated him like dung.  A man from Arimathea took his body and laid it in his own tomb. Buried, forgotten by the world.  

     The next day was the Sabbath, but I found no joy. Nor the morning next. He was gone. What joy was left to be found? Then came the screaming! Not anguish or pain, but joy. Mary was here and she was jubilant. It took me a few minutes to calm her down enough to explain her condition. Not there! He's not there! No, not stolen; risen. How did she know? Angels. She said angels met her at the tomb. And then she saw him. Did I doubt her? Of course I did! Who ever heard of such? I ran to have a look myself, and sure enough. An empty tomb. How? I don't know how, and does it matter? 

    She said he told us to go to Galilee, so we did. I was fishing when he met us there. It was true! He was alive. He welcomed us with breakfast, but I couldn't look at him. My shame overwhelmed me, but then I heard him ask me, "Do you love me?" I could barely whisper in answer, "Yes." Once again, "Do you love me?" Yes. And again, "Do you love me?" I could take it no longer. Yes, Lord, yes. You know I love you. You know everything. You know this anguish of my heart. You know how I long for death's embrace. I am so ashamed! I am so unworthy! I am so wretched! Oh, Lord, I cannot take anymore! 

     Simon, my beloved one. Feed my sheep. Follow my lead. Tell them, Simon. Go, into all the world, and tell them. Tell them I love them. Tell them I've paid the price. Tell them I'm waiting, with anticipation. Will you do that for me, Simon? I love you; I love them. Tell them.......tell them.

Down the Rabbit Hole

   

     Hi Alice! Welcome to Wonderland, a land where almost everything is illogical. Here, let me take you on a little tour.  There, in the big White House over there lives the Mad Chatter. He's always giving speeches where he blames everyone and everything but himself for his shortcomings. You'll know the Mad Chatter is lying when he's doing one of two things. Stuttering like a fool, or reading words off his magic glass. The Mad Chatter is married to Ms. Lean Cuisine. She eats like a starving horse whilst demanding frugality in the diet of the citizens of Wonderland.


    Oh, what is that noise, you ask? Well that is the Misguided Mob. The Misguided Mob is a large group of citizens who chant stupid slogans proclaiming that Mr. Money Bags, a fictional character, is evil. They hate Mr. Money Bags and demand that he share his wealth with them. Hah, no. Don't waste breath explaining to them that if they have all of Mr. Money Bags' money, they won't have any more purpose in life. They're stupid that way.


    That creature lying on it's back making demands? Oh, that's a fluke. Flukes like to spend their time being, how shall we say, intimate. Flukes want to be pleasured all day, but without the responsibility or consequences of their actions. They want to have The Gathering make a declaration that promiscuity be subsidized by Wonderlandians.


    The Gathering? Yes, well; the Gathering is a large group of adolescents. They actually make the rules of Wonderland.  No, of course the Gathering doesn't follow it's own rules. That would be too much like right, and this is Wonderland, after all. The only thing the Gathering is good for is......well, I really can't think of anything. Mostly they argue with each other while half of them cheer the Mad Chatter and the other half jeer him while going along with him anyway. 

     See that long line of Wonderlandians there? Those are what are called Takers. Takers, well, they take from other Wonderlandians, usually with the help of the Gathering and the blessing of the Mad Chatter. They tend to be a lazy bunch who think that they are somehow special. They live in houses that the Gathering force working Wonderlandians to pay for. Their families are usually broken, headed by a female Wonderlandian who gets money confiscated from working Wonderlandians. They get a number of coins for each child they have, unless they take their children to the Disposition Center.


     That big black building over the hill there, that is the Disposition Center. That is where female Wonderlandians go to exercise the womens' right of disposing of little girls. Of course, they do dispose of little boys there too. Yes, illogical, I know. This is Wonderland.


     What? Where? Oh, my. A Renegade!! The Renegades are Wonderlandians who have stumbled upon the original law of Wonderland. They each carry a small copy of the law in their pockets.They are well versed in the original intent of Wonderland's founders. Why do they carry guns? Well, my dear, the Founders enshrined that right in the law of Wonderland. It's the reason the Renegades still have the ability to walk freely and speak their minds and give honor to the Great King. The Gathering and the Mad Chatter hate the Renegades. They stand in the way of the total domination of Wonderland. Yes, the Renegades are the last line of defense before Wonderland totally collapses from it's own hubris. Let us hope they can succeed.


     Alice, it was wonderful of you to visit. May your journey home be safe and happy. Goodbye, my dear.