The cracking of dried tree branches and the pull of blazing torches turns the heads of the disciples to a great crowd now descending upon their small meeting place. A garden, where both life and death have their seasons.
The light from the torches seem to rise up and form a altar. A place where the impossibility of sacrifice and the unraveling of humanity would be come together and be offered for this last time.
Judas approaches Jesus and places the signal of love inappropriately placed on the cheek of a betrayed friend.
Jesus receives.
He knows it is the only was for the war to be one. The soldiers stand by weilding clubs, grasping swords, and grinding teeth. They are ready for a battle.
So is Jesus, but of a different kind.
Peter lunges forward in an assumed position of defender. The sword cuts through the air and slices the ear of his enemy. In Jesus' final act of healing, he removes the pain from an enemy. As a demonstration of His divinity and a picture of what exactly would be happening on the cross.
The air has grown murky and begins to choke the disciple's hearts so that running becomes their only viable option. Staying would mean certain death. They turn around and head for the safety of the unknown. The safety of disassociation. It would be easier this way...wouldn't it?
