The wind and rain attacked the hill and th' tree Assaulting th' hangéd human's beaten face. She looked up from her knees upon th' outstretched And piercéd arms, tormented, dying. She cried out, voice and tears submerged by th' storm, To her lover now profaned, abandoned: "O why has all we've worked for fallen t' this? O Jesus, why, why have you come to this?" "O Mary, truest follower, my devoted, How could we not but follow th' Way?" The rain like nails a-hammering pierced his flesh. He gasped for breath against the howling wind. "Recall ... recall that woman who secured Her doors except ... except that one unused. Then coming home one day she found her home ... her home invaded, occupied by thieves." She wept at th' whispered, tortured words. "She suffered violation terribly." "Thus so we must secure our holy Way. I have performed a necessary work -- Even though proconsul & high priest allowed Me opportunities to save myself -- O had I tak'n them! Only if I'd taken them! Our work for God, our Mother, would have died. Behold my commitment! Follow me!" He wept, "O Mary t' be with you and ours ..." "Our child, O Jesus, who now squalls for you And th' other in me, are they to follow too?" "O God, O why have you forsaken us!" The heavens roared a thunderous lament. And Jesus died ... And Mary wailed ... The storm dissolved and Mary wept and wept. Joseph appeared and ordered th' guards to cut Him down and bring the Lord to his own tomb. His Mary, drained, just stumbled after them. But Mother Mary rushed ahead of her And grasped her son in agonized lament. In th' tomb, dear Mary prepared his body. But Mother Mary cried upon Joseph, "O Send away th' seductress from my son! Her children aren't of th' holy pure dear son. Divinity's his lot, not her profanity!" Yet, Mary, concentrating on her lover, Continued th' cherished, loving labor. "Joseph, I give you th' cup of his final meal. It'll be the holder age to age of him." "O Mother Mary, th' cup I'll take from you To keep and pass from age to age: a mark Of Jesus' sacrifice and Incarnation ..." He moved to face the holy widow: "A mark of God's complete, immersive life Among creation, body, soul and mind, Disdaining no aspect of our existence, A mark for Mary: th' Grail of Holy Blood."
In shredded weeds, the devastated widow Through th' garden wander'd, weeping quietly. She wonder'd, knowing not where else to be, But t' find some closeness t' Jesus now though gone. Confused, her shrouded mind invoked a hell Of demons: Romans murdering her children; Th' disciples hunted down; the Way destroyed -- And one so startling, deeply troubling: The Way rejecting Jesus' family. She found herself by th' only link to Jesus. Who now to care for her belovéd ones? Mother Mary has rejected her and hers -- No other kin there is t' claim her life. Alone, "Why God have you forsaken me!" She looked at th' unforgiving stone cold tomb. She looked again; she blinked: 'twas ope'd! She cried, "O who has stolen Jesus?" She wept. Now e'en his body's gone. But then she saw by th' tomb a man, postrate Among the flowers weeding bit by bit. "Sir, do you know who has removed my love?" He stood up, "Mary, I've awaited you." "Rabbi! My husband!" She embraced her love. "No, Mary! How I yearn for you and ours. But God has raised me for renewing life. I know not yet just whereat this will lead Or how we must proceed, relate, exist." "O Jesus, can't we start again restored And disappear t' idyllic family bliss?" "A novel age can now begin; 'tis here we're called. I yielded not to th' powers; now th' Kin'dom starts Uncompromised, entirely metanoic. You need to go to my disciples now. Proclaim to them that I am risen -- The sign of God's inbreaking Commonwealth. Proclaim to them to live in God's shalom No matter th' cost, to be the Commonwealth Of love in th' midst of broken violence. O Mary, go! Proclaim and celebrate!" Our Mary rose and sped to th' Upper Room. She bang on th' door, "O Peter, John, Andrew!" She heard the bolts released and th' creaking door. The Peter waved her through the door to th' room. He closed it tight, "Where were you! Its not safe. You easily can lead the soldiers t' us!" "He has been raised! Oh! Jesus lives again!" "O Mary, Mary, you're distraught and veiled. We know -- you saw -- he's dead and we are done!" "He lives, I say! He sent me t' tell you so! We are not done! We are the Commonwealth! The tomb is empty. Go and see yourself!" The Spirit flowed out of her words so sure That Peter was propelled outside to th' tomb ...
The Mary stood on th' hill surveying th' village. How wonderful a Commonwealth they've made. Below she saw a child unable t' walk. Among the playing children with her own. Here was a home for all th' anawin. She spotted th' Zealot come among th' Way, A time to hide for him, to talk for them To show better ways than bitter hate. Afraid were many that the soldiers'd come And slay the Commonwealth in righteous law. But Mary said remember Jesus Lord And his unrelenting sacrifice for th' Way. She turned towards th' approaching sound of horses. Again the father came for th' legless child. He wanted him for th' beggary of coins. The child will spend her life on th' street to beg; Her father t' reap th' income of tragedy. Now rushes Mary t' launch th' well-known critique As th' Zealot looks on pondering the scene. But soon the father flees, to cast a threat Of sure destruction for the Commonwealth. That night together she, her children, And Arimathea supped and afterwards The Mary brought out th' Grail of her belovéd. "My children, know your father's love and words. As Jesus' blood is carried through you, Thus so the holy shines through everything. You quietly will be his flesh in th' world. This cup was his; the cup of sacrifice. Joseph presented it to me for th' world To know the grace of th' Way within its pain. Those who will drink of it will turn to Love Away from Ba'al's redemptive violence. It marks our life, our way, our promise t'all." That night the soldiers came for th' Zealot And razed the village, capturing the Mary. In th' chaos, th' father snatched his legless child. The Mary hung upon the cross, th' indictment: She who'd be man; an enemy of God. The wind and rain assaulted th' killing hill. As naked born, now naked for all th' world. "Joseph, my children take them far away. And take the Grail for th' life of all th' world. O God, O God, O come, O quickly come!" Joseph with th' Holy Children sailed to th' West And landed on th' Languedoc with th' Word for Celts. Upon the shore he raised the Holy Grail: "O world, behold the Grail of Holy Blood. O drink of it for life and love ... And death no more ..."
In Carbonek Sir Perceval and Sir Galahad, son of Lancelot, Were bathed in th' light of th' Chalice Plentiful. Before the knights a woman held it high Aglow in sacred lumninosity. "How far your quests have sought the grace of Christ. This Grail you seek you think is filled with grace. You seek to earn this grace with purity. Of soul and body: Bound t' your honor Developed by your patriarchy. But th' Chalice Plentiful is filled with love, An unexhaustible love for life and th' world. In finding Christ, you find the Commonwealth -- The sacredness of th' ties that bind all things, Unearned and caring not for purity. You, Lancelot, Morgana, Arthur All Can drink of it t' ingress the holiness Of God expressed through th' web of life and love." And Perceval inquired, "What angel are you?" "I am no angel sent from heaven afar. I am descendant of the Sangreal -- Memorial to God enfleshed in joy." And Perceval with Galahad Returned to th' world in soul and flesh, And quietly evolved to th' flesh of Christ.
©2010, John A. Mills