Mary of Bethany - Betrayal

Betrayal

Mary of Bethany

Critical voices surfaced after the miracle.
What did they think? -
that our brother was a zombie?
Or a ghost?

We decided to prove otherwise,
by hosting a resurrection dinner.
He would stay, of course,
Jerusalem gets so crowded at this time of year
and he had a mostly crew with him.
Yes – we would host a dinner
to prove Lazarus is really alive…
To prove resurrection of body is possible.
Only One with power over life and death
could have done this thing.

Many came to believe,
Others did not -
They said they were paying respects,
but now we know…
They went ‘to tell on us’
like children ‘dobbing’.
Why?
What did they have to gain?

When they muttered and left,
we realized where they were going.
I had a premonition
and went to collect the rest of the nard
I had purchased for my brother’s burial.
I now knew what it was for…

(John 11:46-47)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary, wife of Cleopas of Emmaus (i)

Mary, wife of Cleopas (i)

Woman from Emmaus

What is a respectful distance?
Far enough not to hear
the struggle for breath?
Far enough not to see
the perspiration trickle down the tortured frame?
Or far enough to avoid
the kicks and beatings of the soldiers.

What is this dehumanizing
that comes with colonizing this empire?
What bile arises as we watch and grieve
for goodness hanging there? -
One day an artwork, to hang upon a wall?
This is not decorative, nor entertaining.

What is achieved?
The desire is terror…
to plant such fear within us
that his broken body
becomes our broken spirit.
How can anyone, even a prophet,
choose this?

What is my role,
but to bear witness to this darkness?
I would not let Cleo come,
for all the followers are in danger.
All of us fear to make the choice
that would draw us on so black a path.
I bade him hide
and I will bear the news to him
when it is done.

What does it mean
to be among such a crowd of women?
Our word means nothing in court of Law,
yet we are the ones to watch
and tell the eternal story of hate, and love,
of suffering and death.

(John 19:25)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Salome (Mother of Zebedee's sons)

Salome
The Mother of Zebedee’s sons (Tending Dying)

I tried to support them.
They clung to me as we walked.
When we came to the place.
We stopped and stood.
His mother was praying,
Incomprehensible moans.
Magda simply fell to the ground,
Still clutching my robe.

I came with them,
but told my sons to go into hiding.
I cannot imagine what Mary feels.
Could I bear this… this torture?
Throughout history, women
have seen their sons and husbands die.
Girlfriends have mourned
the lost potential of their dreams.

Is this the lot of women -
To tend the dying and the dead?
I can prepare myself
for the passing of my own generation,
but not my sons – Lord no!
Let this not be my lot.
Let my James and John be safe.
Protect them, O Lord.

This poor boy…
So diligent in his prayers,
So faithful in his healing,
So wise in his teaching.
How can he be so hated?
How can this violence exist?
His steps to reach here
were so tormented.
His broken skin and pained face…
His eyes were almost empty
with focus and carrying shame.

But what shame could he carry?
the shame of violence and hate?
He touched people –
with hand and voice.
He spoke of love
and showed us how.
He traveled the country
reaching out to ordinary
and the unclean.

Now – he is the unclean
And there is nothing we can do
to bring him comfort or relief.
We pray for a swift end…
For moments of calm
In this nightmare.
Let it end.
Please God.
Let him find peace.

(Matthew 27:55-56) 
NRSV 27:55 Many women were also there, looking on from a distance; they had followed Jesus from Galilee and had provided for him. 56 Among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee.

  © 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Woman of Endor

Necromancer - Tending Death

Endor’s Witch?

Specialist in grief and loss,
My counsel sought by highest king.
I hid my shingle for his fear,
Lest Yahweh’s blessing be withheld.
What outrage that he comes here now?
Demands my persecutor’s speech!
He seeks a word beyond that grave
Which he himself may soon call home.

He longs for comfort, signs of hope,
Believing in this mother's mercy.
What mercy did he spare for me
And for my work with those who grieve?
Ministry of presence, not often understood.
Yet, wordless courage, shared, allows
Unburdening in company -
And who would not seek such release?

My followers will be condemned,
Just as I am labeled ‘witch’.
They will be stoned and set to flame,
Tho’ their calling comfort gives.

(1 Samuel 28)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary and Lazarus (Tending Death - Part 2)

Tending Death (Mary)

I prepare the water steeped in fragrant herbs
And cannot tell - is this the water
From the place of our baptism?

I pass the towel, soaked and fresh
To wipe the signs of life and death
Away from carcass remnants.

I hold his arm as my sister cleans
And we both move in dance like caresses
Remembering better days and hours.

I weep. She mutters.
She bids me stay and tend, hurrying away...
I know not where to... or to whom...

(John 11:1-45)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Martha, sister of Lazarus (Tending Death - Part 1)

Tending Death (Martha)

I wring the towel into the bowl
And cannot tell – is this the water that I drew
Or are these my salty tears?

Once again, I wipe his torso,
On which he wore the shirt I made
and spilled the wine on that first wearing.

I wipe his legs and recollect
the journeys to Jerusalem
on that dusty road…

I wipe his arm and in my memory
see the embrace for his guest – Our Lord!
What joy he had to welcome Him.

I bathe his shoulder – that carried us
these many years, through invaded times.
What will we do? Without you?

(John 11:1-45)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Jairus' Daughter

Jairus’ daughter

When I grow up… I will be honoured,
As one who has been blessed - beyond blessing.
I will be given in marriage – but not just to anyone!

My father will seek a man who understands
the ways of the synagogue
the ways of the Law - And
the Way of the Messiah…
for I am the living proof
that he who came among us
raises the living from the dead.

When I grow up… I will be known,
not for what I achieve or what I will become…
but for this moment,
when I embodied the sign of Heaven on earth,
of the promise of life beyond life,
of fulfillment,
of hope.

When I grow up… and become full of years,
I will be remembered as a girl… vulnerable,
symbolizing lost potential
- and holy completion.

(Mark 5:21-43, Matthew 9:18-26, Luke 8:40-56)

© 2017, A.Koh-Butler

Mary of Bethany and Jesus (Tending Death - Part 3)

Tending Dying

I sprinkle precious water from my vial
Over feet into the bowl.
These feet that trod on our assumptions.
They trod the path from north to south,
bridging the stories of Kingdoms long past.
Could reconciliation be possible in a land
that has soaked up so much blood?
Perhaps it is inevitable that this Reconciler
will be taken down?
How the can I show Him my love and support?
How terrible it must be to carry the stories the way He does?
My tears, held in this little vial,
join all my weeping stories,
and those of every mother, sister, wife and daughter,
with those He bears.

(Mary of Bethany)

(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler