February 9, 2003

Space Shuttles and Human Sacrifice

I woke up to a glorious sunrise, which was a welcome relief from the winter rains and overcast skies of recent days. It was the 1st day of February 2003, and I was looking forward to taking the boat past the Wilderness Cathedral and on upriver for gas at the marina at the mouth of White Rock Creek.

Just as I took my first sip of coffee that morning, the phone rang. It was my daughter in California, telling me to turn on the television. The space shuttle had broken apart over East Texas, she exclaimed. A few minutes there was another call, this time informing me that the San Jacinto County Sheriff’s office was about to break the locks on the gates to the prairie on the Wilderness Cathedral because someone had seen a part of the space shuttle fall there.

It turned out that the debris including some apparent human remains were found just a few miles to the west of the Cathedral. I began to think about the families of the victims and then my mind turned to the families of our young men and women who are being sent to war for no legitimate reason, and the families of the poor downtrodden masses of the Third World who will suffer and die because of our nation’s greed lust for oil, wealth, and world domination, at their expense.

Around noon, I lowered the boat into the water and admired the many cormorants and pelicans feeding as the boat moved upstream. The tranquil waters of the lake seemed so peaceful and the birds appeared to be unaware of the tragedy that had unfolded over their heads earlier that day, and also of the tragic disappearance of two young people in the rough waters of the lake just days before.

Something compelled me to head toward the Aztec island further upstream.  My son Andrew and I had ventured there only one time before and one could still feel an evil spirit exude from the island where human torture, sacrifice, and cannibalism was carried out by Native Americans so long ago.

The island is strangely barren now, except for a few ancient oaks that survive amongst the boulders and the huge stone slabs upon which the human victims were tied and forced to face the sun as it moved overhead and set in the west. When we had visited before we were unaware of the human sacrifices and had believed the island to be just a benign religious ceremonial site. The presence of evil was so great that Andrew did not even want to leave the boat and we both felt ill at ease for some time after we left. This time I did not land on the island but circled it, taking photos.

As I turned the boat toward home, an eagle flew straight toward me from the distant shore. She circled the boat several times and then flew over the island of human sacrifice. A silent voice seemed to come from the eagle as she circled overhead. She spoke of evil men who have over the centuries sacrificed many victims in order to achieve power and glory. She spoke to me of war and the forces of good that are working for peace. She spoke of the shuttle disaster and how there are evil men and women who would sacrifice human lives in order to divert public attention away from the world community’s efforts to bring peace to the planet. She spoke of the starving and dying children of Iraq, who would be sacrificed both in order for their evil and corrupt leader to retain power or just as tragically, in order for America to take their country’s resources. I was very discomforted by the eagle’s message.

Seeking a peaceful place to ponder the multiple tragedies befalling our world at the hands of war mongers, dictators, exploiters, and other unethical human beings, I came to a beautiful wooded island, with a sandy beach on one side. Stepping ashore on this deserted island, I felt like an explorer arriving at a new land.

An armadillo ambled past, like a dodo bird, or some creature that had never seen a human and thus showed no fear. I followed him until he went over a small bluff and down toward the water’s edge. He pointed in the direction of some pebbles on the beach. I reached down and picked up a broken arrowhead, which seemed to signify the breakdown of our own civilization.

Leaving the beach, I began to circle the island, admiring the ancient trees and huge yaupon hollies, palmettos, and other vegetation. A rabbit crossed in front of me. I paused and looked up and there was an eagle daintily snacking on a little rodent. The eagle flew to the far side of the island to continue eating in peace until a flock of raucous crows chased her away.

Just as I was nearing the boat upon my circumnavigation of the island, a goat appeared out of nowhere and then another and another until at least twenty of the wily animals stood before me. I felt like I had stumbled into a time warp and had somehow arrived on an island in the Aegean Sea before the dawn of recorded history.

Returning home, I could not help but keep thinking about what the eagle had told me. I have been uneasy this past week as our government continues with its plans to sacrifice thousands of innocent lives so that we as a people, with our insatiable appetite for oil, can continue to foolishly and wantonly plunder our planet’s dwindling resources.

From the Holy Trinity Wilderness Cathedral

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