Ah, Mary of Magdala
They did not tell us your story,
It was lost, buried deep.
What dread sickness was it Mary,
that gripped you – with all of seven symptoms?
They did not tell us your story
But we know:
your spirit was battered – in a society which had no place for you.
Was your sickness then – a soul sickness, sister?
Were the demons – that devoured you
of springs of despair – in a patriarchal culture
where your voice -could never be spoken – your words never heard?
Could your seven demons – be those very ones
that reside still in your sisters, – two thousand years later,
cowering in shadowy apartments – brutalized by domestic violence
and believing it deserved?
And are you still alive with us, Mary of Magdala,
In our sisters in prison, locked up
because they could not say no to the crack cocaine
that dulled the violence of their lives,
misting over memories of multiple rapes and abuse?
Ah Mary of Magdala, were you also imprisoned
By your story never told?
Until one day, one glorious, glorious day
destined to shine through history,
beckoning like a flaming beacon to women throughout the ages,
He looked upon you, Mary and saw
your soul beauty – starved for light and voice.
The man Jesus recognized you as his own –
raising you up into fullness,
calling forth your powerfulness presence.
Friend, Companion, Apostle – ONE WHO IS LOVED.