christiannonduality.com Blog

Long ago, in pain, I wrote an
Ode to Mothers Who Had Lost Their Boys.

It expresses truths that satisfy no questions in our heads but that respond, instead, to broken hearts. We realize through time that our hearts have broken, not in two, but open. And we recognize that we never get over such enormous pain and immense loss, only through it. Together.

Mary: Our road began with the Word of God,

Where a witness, Elizabeth’s son,

In a town in the hills of Judah,

Spoke of Jesus, the Chosen One.

Elizabeth: Little boys we carried in our wombs

Knew one another, even there !

And were destined, both, for early tombs,

Any mother’s worst nightmare.

Mary: My son was killed by Pilate,

With indignity and disgrace.

Elizabeth: My John was brutally murdered,

Beheaded at Herod’s place.

Narrator: I asked of Mary: “What of Pilate ?”

“What of Herod ?” of Elizabeth.

“Of the people who rejected them

Even in Nazareth ?”

They both were silent, for a while

Then each, in their own turn,

Spoke openly and lovingly

Of the lessons they had learned.

Mary: Like my Joseph, through King David’s line,

Did my baby, Jesus, come

A Savior given unto us

Each and every one.

Elizabeth: Yes, adulterers and murderers

Like Herod (King David, too)

Were the reason that Our Lord was born

Mary: And also me and you.

Elizabeth: No it’s not for us to understand.

It’s not for us to see:

What of David ? Pilate ? Herod ?

Mary: What of them or you or me ?

Mary: Like the criminals murdered with Him

On His left and on His right

‘Til one’s dying breath He’ll save you

Bathe you in Eternal Light.

Narrator: Elizabeth stood, took Mary’s arms.

They embraced with loving tears.

Then as at The Visitation

John and Jesus then appeared !

I watched in silence and in awe

With love and peace and joy,

As with such warmth and tenderness

Each mother hugged her boy.

They were little kids like yours and mine !

With faces oh so fair !

Their mommies kissed their little heads

Ran fingers through their hair.

They pinched their cheeks, held little faces

In between each hand,

Looked proudly down into their eyes

Each mother’s little man.

There they saw the face of God and lived

As the prophet said they’d see.

They all stared in little Jesus’ face

Then turned and said to me:

All: We’ll have all been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun

Each generation’s moms and dads

Each daughter and each son;

The loves we’ll have shared continuing on,

The pains we’ll have shared forgotten,

With the God we’ll have known from ages hence

From Mary’s womb begotten.

For nothing can quench the love of God

Not anguish nor distress

Persecution, famine nor the sword

Peril nor nakedness.

Neither death nor life nor angels

Not any principality

Could stifle the love of these mothers’ boys

From here to Eternity.

The entire poem is here:
http://christiannonduality.com/the_passion