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zg_shadowsShe stepped out from the place of filth and sin where they met onto the only slightly less unpleasant street. They called London Gomorrah for its disasters, she knew, but to her mind the name fitted equally well for other reasons. Any angel showing itself on the streets of the city that had engendered the civilised world would be lucky to just be raped. From the false angels of Satan to the lies of the savage beasts to the walking, killing dead, this place was rotting in its own excrement.
She walked along the shadowed streets, glancing with disapproving primness at the occasional underbridge graffiti. A serpent with poison dripping from its jaws jostled for space with ‘Repent, the end is nigh’.
Of course, for the so-called Magi (and oh, wasn’t it a long time since the word had had anything to do with wisdom), it was.
Matt.26:15-16
Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went unto the chief priests, and said unto them, “What will ye give me, an I will deliver him unto you?” And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to betray him.
She didn’t need a copy of the Bible, neither the pocket version tucked in her medical bag nor the big old family Bible at home, with the family tree drawn carefully on the flyleaf from her own name in bright modern green to her great-grandmother’s in faded tawny.
As she walked across patchy-wet worn-out tarmac the words played through her mind, will she, nill she. She did not try to fight them. She had always prided herself in knowing what she was.
Instead she set down her medical bag, opened herself to God, and let them come.
Matt.26:45-49
Then cometh he to his disciples, and saith unto them, “Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me.”
And while he yet spake, lo, Judas, one of the twelve, came, and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and elders of the people. Now he that betrayed him gave them a sign, saying, “Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he: hold him fast.” And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, “Hail, master”; and kissed him.
She understood that kiss, now.
There had been caring in it, she thought. Worry for one who had too much on his shoulders, who looked tired, who should sleep. Guilt. An apology for what could not be forgiven.
She absently glanced at the empty street around her, but of course he was not here. She wasn’t sure if he had even left the meeting yet. For her part, she couldn’t wait to get out of a gathering in which she no longer felt she belonged, a place where the smell of lust hung in the air beside the manacles. A gathering of the ungodly where even the best of people could not resist the earthly delights on offer.
For her, of course, there was no temptation. Never had been. Only the almost fractal ramifications, black and white blurring from a distance into shades of grey, of what had once been the simple question of what was right, and what was wrong.
She did not kiss her friends. It was not done, these days, except in the licentious Latin countries where even their dancing reeked of sex. The best her bedside manner could muster was an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and even that an effort.
It didn’t matter. Still the words played out to their inevitable conclusion.
Matt.27:3-5
Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, Saying, “I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.”
And they said, “What is that to us? see thou to that.” And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.
And so Judas was twice-damned, and never to be forgiven. Not by God, not by the Church, and not even by her. For his crime was unforgivable and of his own will; for all that it had been necessary.
For it had been a thing inevitable, from first to last. Only with the death of the Son of God could the sins of the world be forgiven. Only with his death could the New Covenant be sealed. And for the Son of Man to die, someone had to betray him.
She shrugged, picked up her medical bag, and walked on to the station.
---
Right. Word tells me that's 801 words. 801 words of pain, torment and suffering. Are you satisfied,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
annwfyn?!
She walked along the shadowed streets, glancing with disapproving primness at the occasional underbridge graffiti. A serpent with poison dripping from its jaws jostled for space with ‘Repent, the end is nigh’.
Of course, for the so-called Magi (and oh, wasn’t it a long time since the word had had anything to do with wisdom), it was.
Matt.26:15-16
Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went unto the chief priests, and said unto them, “What will ye give me, an I will deliver him unto you?” And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to betray him.
She didn’t need a copy of the Bible, neither the pocket version tucked in her medical bag nor the big old family Bible at home, with the family tree drawn carefully on the flyleaf from her own name in bright modern green to her great-grandmother’s in faded tawny.
As she walked across patchy-wet worn-out tarmac the words played through her mind, will she, nill she. She did not try to fight them. She had always prided herself in knowing what she was.
Instead she set down her medical bag, opened herself to God, and let them come.
Matt.26:45-49
Then cometh he to his disciples, and saith unto them, “Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me.”
And while he yet spake, lo, Judas, one of the twelve, came, and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and elders of the people. Now he that betrayed him gave them a sign, saying, “Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he: hold him fast.” And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, “Hail, master”; and kissed him.
She understood that kiss, now.
There had been caring in it, she thought. Worry for one who had too much on his shoulders, who looked tired, who should sleep. Guilt. An apology for what could not be forgiven.
She absently glanced at the empty street around her, but of course he was not here. She wasn’t sure if he had even left the meeting yet. For her part, she couldn’t wait to get out of a gathering in which she no longer felt she belonged, a place where the smell of lust hung in the air beside the manacles. A gathering of the ungodly where even the best of people could not resist the earthly delights on offer.
For her, of course, there was no temptation. Never had been. Only the almost fractal ramifications, black and white blurring from a distance into shades of grey, of what had once been the simple question of what was right, and what was wrong.
She did not kiss her friends. It was not done, these days, except in the licentious Latin countries where even their dancing reeked of sex. The best her bedside manner could muster was an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and even that an effort.
It didn’t matter. Still the words played out to their inevitable conclusion.
Matt.27:3-5
Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, Saying, “I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.”
And they said, “What is that to us? see thou to that.” And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.
And so Judas was twice-damned, and never to be forgiven. Not by God, not by the Church, and not even by her. For his crime was unforgivable and of his own will; for all that it had been necessary.
For it had been a thing inevitable, from first to last. Only with the death of the Son of God could the sins of the world be forgiven. Only with his death could the New Covenant be sealed. And for the Son of Man to die, someone had to betray him.
She shrugged, picked up her medical bag, and walked on to the station.
---
Right. Word tells me that's 801 words. 801 words of pain, torment and suffering. Are you satisfied,
annwfyn?!
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