". . . And Demetrius told us of seeing a drawing scratched upon a wall, the image of a jackass crucified, and a stick man kneeling before it; and he wept mightily during the telling of it, as much, he said, as when he saw it. And the aged Apostle raised his hand to speak (which kind of effort exhausts him so profoundly that every word of his is now a rare treasure); and we who gather for prayer in the evenings around his bed and in the chamber, until no space remains, listened in total, attentive silence to that voice, which, had one time, had spoken with our Savior in Galilee; and, later, had been told, by Him, in a vision on Patmos, to be not afraid."
---The Epistle of Lady Electa of Ephesus to Lady Miranda on Avalon
A wall, defaced, is not less upright, no less solid
a structure just because some dimwit has defaced
it. In that way, the Gospel and your faith in it
is no less true, the Word victorious and valid
despite those who attempt to make a travesty
through pride or ignorance---a profane comedy
at best, and at its worse a form of blasphemy
quite effortless on their part, but no less debased:
beneath our notice and not worth a stray cat's spit.
So shall it always be, despite what worldlings think,
as long as stars still light the night, and monkeys stink.