Historical setting: 584 C.E. The house of Eve, pagan healer
“Yes indeed,” Nic goes on, “the world has changed. The Church has changed. Even life in a monastery edges toward a standard practice now. And it isn’t about the Jesus words. We still copy the same words of gospel over and again perfectly in the changeless vernacular of St. Jerome. We shape each letter of it for every wealthy church patron who can sponsor a bible. The bible stays the same but the world skews anew. I’m too tired to tell it again after I wrote it in those pages. I thought you needed to how to fit into the world when you awoke. I didn’t think I would be here then. And anyway, I’m too tired to tell it all just now. Please, dear Brother, stay close to God for ever and always.”
He didn’t hear my “Amen.”
Eve listens nearby and has come to take Nic to the place she has prepared for him near the fire so he can rest.
Alone now, my prayer pours from spirit in a thundering deluge of thanksgivings.
Dear God, thank you for staying near me in this time of strange reunion. Thank you for the generations of my family, here and forever. Thank you, especially for such a good friend to let Jesus love be our bond even greater than his Roman military lessons teaching fear and calling it hate of the Jews like me and like Jesus. These are so many redundant thank you’s cascading from my thoughts of Nic. Thank you for the life gifts even to the mortals, and for the strange welcome back to life with people who once loved me are trying to hobble love together just now. And need I tell you, I noticed Ezra’s wife Colletta, is still struggling with metaphor in her Christian faith. She made an angel’s robe for my rising. It’s not sized for my earthly bones and has a huge gapping space for wings I never expect will emerge from my mortal again meat of man. She set the arms in upside-down, so I could forever raise my arms in praise, or be flying. She hears of angels and has no mind for spiritual metaphor – then an artist who brings metaphor to literal image plasters a winged angel unto a wall of a sanctuary and Colleta believes angels have this exact visage. Thank you God for the inspiration for her plan, for all of this and everything more. So be it.
(Continues Tuesday, May 4)
Angel’s clothes, metaphor, artist’s imagination, family love obligations, inspiration, changes,