When Lewis Carroll wrote "Alice in Wonderland," he knew nothing about the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant. But he knew about the insanity of power in the high places of his own culture.
As portrayed in the Disney film, the Queen of Hearts asks: "Who's been painting my roses red? Who's been painting my roses red? / Who dares to taint / With vulgar paint / The royal flower bed? / For painting my roses red / Someone will lose his head."
The Card Painter responds: "Oh no, Your Majesty, please! It's all 'his' fault!" The Ace blames the Deuce. The Deuce blames the three. The Queen explodes.
"That's enough! Off with their heads! I warn you, child … if I lose my temper, you lose your head! Understand?"
The very thought of beheadings chills us to the bone. It would be hard to imagine a more horrifying spectacle than what we have recently seen of American journalists losing their heads in the Middle East. The fact that British and American citizens have joined ISIL is nearly as chilling as the killings themselves; we ask why one of us would dare "to taint with vulgar paint the royal flower bed."
There is no excuse for a beheading. It makes no difference if it's at the hands of ISIL or David, as in the beheading of Goliath the giant Philistine, or those who sought to demonstrate their zealous support for David, sneaking into the bedroom of Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul, beheading Ish-bosheth and presenting his head to David at Hebron (2 Samuel 4:9-13).
To their great surprise, David, who had beheaded Goliath, is not pleased. " '[W]hen wicked men have killed a righteous man in his own house on his bed, shall I not now require his blood at your hand and destroy you from the earth?' And David commanded his young men, and they killed them and cut off their hands and feet and hanged them beside the pool at Hebron. But they took the head of Ish-bosheth and buried it in the tomb of Abner at Hebron."
We don't hear readings like this in church. But you will hear such scriptures read daily in a Benedictine abbey, as I did while visiting St. John's Abbey to get my own head and heart straight in anticipation of the death of my stepdaughter. The reading I'm remembering was just as ghastly as the beheadings of Goliath and Ish-bosheth and of David's response cutting off the killers' hands and feet on the public square for all to see.