Photo by Rosart Maurice (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Jesus you were killed outside the camp with the Unclean: lepers with rotting flesh, bleeding vaginas openly shamed, penises that oozed, anuses that discharged, the burning gehenna of community waste and blood drained sacrifices, the half formed Quasimodos, the eunuchs, the monsters, the dry bones, the goats with the sins of the people pressed into their heads the ones even God first hated...but loved afterwards
Is this the far, far better thing you go to fed to starving crowds who thirsted for blood and ripped your flesh like bread who proclaimed their superior cleanness loudly in the streets their family values and social values and spiritual values and national values systems, parties, processes, ideologies, orders, powers, laws gods that are no-gods, lines drawn in imaginations between mine and yours, things that are no-things, yet possessed with unreal reality?
What happened to the good news, the fulfillment of hope, of rescue of crumbs falling from tables that vastly outnumbered the original loaves in quantity of the newest wine from stale water that vastly outdid the old wine in quality? (Moses brought water from a rock, and that was enough. You brought wine from water, because enough would not do. It was the time for extravagant feasting.) Messiah had come! but was not recognized the way of peace not known, not wanted mountains did not bow, nor were valleys lifted the paths were not made level and the lame were made to trip and fall and not be healed. as you cried out with the godforsaken you became a thing that good people turned away from in disgust and wrinkled noses in contempt