Out the door they have lined up to see him, and here he comes in chains to stand before the judge who looks down from the manufactured throne but he cannot look into the prisoner’s eyes, he cannot, he must avert them to keep from losing his own courage that is barely hanging on. Today you have been brought here to defend yourself from the charges that you are unwilling to be melded into society like the rest of us, you are unwilling to lay your heart on the altar where each of us have already laid ours, you are unwilling to lay your mind on the altar where each of us have already laid ours, you are unwilling to lay your spirit on the altar where each of us have already laid ours, what do you have to say?
But the wild man says nothing. He has no reason to defend himself from those who have no right to charge him, and so he stands still, looking ahead unafraid but it’s the fire, the fire burning as coals in his eyes that the mob behind him cannot see, only the judge who says take him away.
And thus he is led out to the street and beaten, fists feet clubs chains, savaged and bloodied on the ground but not yet dead for there is still life in him, and isn’t this the very problem, isn’t this the very reason he is on trial to begin with, that there is still life in him that has yet to be extinguished on the altar of modern life. This what happens to the wild man, this is what happens to the free man, this is what happens to the imago deo because this is what happened to the maker of all men, the wildest heart of all, he who was put on trial because he would not lay his heart on the altar, he would not lay his mind on the altar, he would not lay his spirit on the altar and so they killed him even as he invited his followers to imitate, there is no mystery in this, all who follow the Nazarene are following him to death of one kind or another.
And so the wild man is no longer on trial, he is a lamb to be sacrificed to pacify the wolves who know nothing of what they do. The cry is to kill him. Kill him. They drag him to the place where he will be seen, where he will be heard retching for his final breaths so all the little boys who pass by will be warned that there is no place in society for the wild man, for the free man, and so you had better be a good boy or else the same fate will befall you and you don’t want to be embarrassed do you? You don’t want everyone to hate you, do you? Behold how he is crushed as a spectacle, entertainment, to pacify the salivating wolves gathered round with nothing else to do but watch and nod and cheer whenever that’s what they are told to do.
In time, the wild man breathes his last but death cannot overcome him for long.
It is impossible for him to stay dead.