Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time
I follow the others of this community into the slightly larger, oblong cell of stacked stones where monks gather for Mass. It is not a Pagan circle, made over to be a Christian Church as are many small circular stone churches made over from ancient Pagan temples. This seems Christian from the start. More likely it pretends to be the shape of a Roman basilica, so it has a front and a back. The abbot takes his place at the front and within the small scale of it, he alone, fills the whole apse. In a miniature structure, the earthly people seem like giants. So be it.
Brother Lugh and I, followed by the two novices were first to enter, so we are standing the farthest in the back, but how could Brother Lugh think I wouldn’t be noticed, a ninth man here, a stranger to these others, wearing this oddly made linen tunic of the very same weave as the scapulars and the body bags supplied to this monastery at the start of it. I’m grateful Brother Timothy gave me the proper Celtic tonsure. There is no thought among these people that I am not a monk — I’m just a stranger to them.
The dialogue of the ritual would be in the Roman language. But first, the abbot interrupts the expected liturgy, and speaks in the spoken language of these monks.
“How is it possible there is a stranger among us? There has not been a boat at the cove for some weeks.”
It hardly feels like warm words of welcome.
Brother Lugh announces, “This is Lazarus, back from the dead!”
There is a silence before the murmur of wonder. Maybe no further explanation is needed.
But the abbot says, “Brother Lazarus. Explain this.”
I really didn’t think I needed to explain myself to strangers. But I attempt it anyway.
“I am a sign.”
“You say you are Christ returned?”
“No, no. I am a sign — My return to life is an earthly event to speak of a heavenly truth — I am just, simply, the sign on earth of spiritual resurrection as it is in heaven. The mystical life is for all of us — it is the spiritual nature of all of our lives.”
There is a stunned silence here.
(Continues Tuesday, August 18)
Lazarus Ink 