Greetje: New page: {{info}}For generations without shame
Iscariot had been a name
In Kirioth that everyone
Could trust, until the only son
Of Simon came of age and broke
His father's heart. Th...

2008-10-13T12:55:55Z

New page: {{info}}For generations without shame Iscariot had been a name In Kirioth that everyone Could trust, until the only son Of Simon came of age and broke His father's heart. Th...

New page

{{info}}For generations without shame Iscariot had been a name In Kirioth that everyone Could trust, until the only son Of Simon came of age and broke His father's heart. The common folk Had thought it strange that Simon stayed Unmarried after Mary laid Her fevered head on Simon's chest And died before her swollen breast Gave one day's milk. He never told His parents why, nor did they scold Or press him for another wife. For thirty years he lived his life A widower with one great goal: To love his son and save his soul. No one but Simon knew what she Had said that night. It was a plea, And full of boding pain. She said, "I fear, my love, that we have bred A child of woe. And I have dreamed A dream this night wherein it seemed That something out of the abyss Is here, and if he should but kiss, It would mean death. O Simon, what Have I brought forth, and we begot? What evil deed and endless blot Upon the name Iscariot?" 

He held her in the candlelight And fearful quietness all night.

"Dear Simon, can you see the dawn?" "Not yet. The night is not yet gone." "For me it is," she said, "and O, That I could take the boy and go! Or second best: that he had not Been born! O love, no matter what He does . . . or is, do not despair Or sink in utter gloom, or bear What is not yours to bear. Come near. Think not that you have failed, nor fear That God's unworthy of your trust, Or that in this he is unjust."

And thus she died. And Simon bowed Above her restful face and vowed That he would marry none, but give His love as long as he might live To show his son the path of life And void the warnings of his wife.

For twenty-seven years he trained His son in righteous ways, and drained The reservoir of love and hope So low at times he scarce could cope With thankless days and brazen face And haughty eyes and sore disgrace. For years the boy stole offerings at The synagogue, and once he spat Into the Rabbi's face when he Was caught. One time he said, "I'll be The keeper of the king's account Someday. You watch. And the amount I steal from him will make this theft Look like a petty thing." And so, bereft Of conscience, Judas mocked the cares And pain of Simon, and his prayers. The young men in the village said, "That Judas-boy would steal the bread And cup right off Messiah's plate." His father never laughed.

"It's late, My son," he said one night. The men — The older ones — they say, ‘How can A twig, when it is bent, grow straight?' O Judas, Judas, it is late. Come, make with me a brand new start, I love you, son, with all my heart."

For one last moment Judas stood And looked into his father's good And loving eyes. Then took his sack And headed out the door, looked back And said, "In three years I will own More silver than you've ever known." And he was gone. And Simon wept For weeks, ate nothing, seldom slept, And almost sank in utter gloom But for the words on Mary's tomb: "Sink not in darkness nor despair, Bear not what yours is not to bear: When you have loved and lost then trust; The ways of God are always just."

And so three years went by until One day, out on the northern hill Of Kirioth, a large man walked Before an ass-drawn cart, and talked To no one on the way. He came And asked, "Is there a man by name Iscariot in town?" They showed Him where the old man lived and bode His days alone in simple trade. "Are you Iscariot?" he laid The rope across his burly frame. "I am, and who are you?" "My name Is Peter." "Yes? What brings you down To Kirioth? We're not a town That people come from Galilee To see; what might your business be?" "I knew your son." Old Simon stared In Peter's face. "I knew you cared About your son, and so I brought Him home for burial. I thought It would be easier to know That he had died than just to go On wondering." The old man stood In silence staring at the wood- Cased cart. "Is that my son?" he said. "Yes sir." "How long has he been dead?" "I'm not quite sure." "How did he die?" "He hanged himself." "Do you know why?" "The question ‘Why?' has many layers, And, Simon, some are the affairs Of men and some of God alone. What we should know we have been shown. The secret things belong to God And there are paths we dare not trod."

The old man smiled beneath his tears, "You sound like someone many years Ago." "Yes, Simon, she spoke well. My Master sent me here to tell You that her dying words were true. And I can vouch that he like you Has wept beside the mouth of hell. But, Simon, one is not to dwell Forever weeping in that place Nor contemplate the end of grace Too long. Remember what she said, And what you wrote when she was dead: "Sink not in darkness nor despair, Bear not what yours is not to bear: When you have loved and lost then trust; The ways of God are always just."

And so the light in candle two Cannot suffice to answer you, If you would know before its time The deepest "why?" of every crime. But trust for now what it reveals; The time will come for opened seals.

Judas, My Son - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}}For generations without shameIscariot had been a nameIn Kirioth that everyoneCould trust, until the only sonOf Simon came of age and brokeHis father's heart. Th...

Greetje: New page: {{info}}For generations without shame
Iscariot had been a name
In Kirioth that everyone
Could trust, until the only son
Of Simon came of age and broke
His father's heart. Th...