A Message to My Last Messiahs

Luke 12:49-53

I am come to send fire on the earth; and what will I, if it be already kindled? But I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished!Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you, Nay; but rather division: For from henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three.The father shall be divided against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother in law against her daughter in law, and the daughter in law against her mother in law.



Who are we to the world?


Another sun laid under the moon tonight as his blood poured out in the street. Across the ocean, many more suns and earths are shot, bombed, raped and maimed. Daughters of kings cry until their life ends and sons of queens look in a daze as they watch the will of another overtake what they’ve yet to know was theirs.


We are crucified for the sins of others. Who are we to the world?


Our energy harvested, every misdeed done against the last messiahs make the wicked feel stronger; every ounce of blood spilled by those that agree to evil, take communion and make bread from the broken bodies. And yet still miracles are performed. Still the will to stand up, still the will to create more people and build families, still the desire to be more than just another image made in the likeness of those that died before us.


And to what avail will it cost the world, that it loses its soul at the death of each one of us?


The earth loses its soul at the death of each one of us.


Where is salvation from the cross that we bear?
Who said this was our cross to bear?
Where is the judgment against those who sacrificed our children to bring division between us?


Generations before claim we’re doing it wrong even though there’s no difference in death as both the old and young are being slaughtered; the elders are slaughtered with complacency and the youth assassinated by state-supported programs. An example from times past and ages to come, how many times has the world been set on fire due to the division created to choose between life and man-made laws? Is socio-economic codes of legalese more important than the lives it strives to stifle?


Who are we dying for? Are we the sacrifice for those who trespass against us?


How many times throughout the story of spiritual trial and human error do we have to do this? How many times do we have to die for the sake of “progress?”


When did violence become the order of the day?
When did self-defense become shunned?
When did sacrifice of the very life you need to love, become a form of love?


Step back and look at what billions have come to agree upon: that you are to die for the shortcomings of a people who cannot conceive how you are still here. Millions around the world wonder how you have survived being at the neck of your enemy and still find the strength to hope and have faith. A story told during every astrological age about you and how you would die so that others could live.


Who are you? Who are we to the world? Will we die and leave the world in wonder of if or when we’ll return or will we find strength in our divinity to withstand this trial until blood no longer falls from our bodies and we overcome the lynch mobs that try to turn us into the scapegoat for their mischief?


You are not a sacrifice.
Your life matters.


To my last messiahs: be the final call to order for this place. Let no further division come between you and your parents and your children for the sake of a people who’d rather see your past wiped from memory and future wiped from prosperity. It is a crime for the wicked to make you be their god and praise the fact that you die every day, despite what way of luxury and privilege you made for them, so that they can live their fantasies of a world free from your beautiful faces. As many of us have heard before, we are not at war with flesh and blood but with spiritual wickedness in high places; places that aim to make a profit off of your death and sell the story of your lifeless body to future generations to only say “these people died so that you could live,” in hopes that you resurrect only so that they kill you again.


May you be the last messiahs, that no one else dies so that wickedness and falsehood can live. Re-write this story so that it will never, EVER have the same ending again.


I love you all. You are chosen.