I don't truck with iconoclasm, but it doesn't look so bad when stacked up against cannibalism. Cyril, a fourth century Christian in the Phoenician city of Heliopolis, got a little carried away with the Emperor's new-found preference for the Cross. Knowing that the wind from Constantinople was at his back, he started wrecking the polytheistic temples of his hometown. He was idol-smashing with impunity.
Then the wind shifted. Julian the Apostate restored the old faith and the pagans stepped up to take their revenge. Not content to kill Saint Cyril, they cut him open and tore out his liver, which they devoured, still warm and bloody. As the story goes, the Lord looked with disfavor on this. Those who ate the liver found their teeth dropped out of their gums. They went blind, and then their tongues rotted away. (More with the tongues.)
I don't look for falling teeth and rotten tongues to bolster my faith. I have read the words of the Gospel. If I revisit them often, and meditate well, perhaps I will hear The Word instead of just the words. In this age, I do not look for more than that.
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