Mary's Immaculate Conception

Miryam's Sabbath
adapted by Ann Johnson
from the book Miryam of Judah

Listen,
the shofar sounds
from the city signal the sound of the first
call.
Awake yourselves,
the day of difference is at hand.
Ignite your heart,
The shofar beckons.
The work of six days is ended.
The sabbath approaches.
Come, quickly, come.
Rest begins.

Clutching one another,
we still our minds.

How fair are your tents, O Jacob,
your dwelling place, O Israel.
Let my prayer come before you, Lord,
Hearken to me.
God, in your kindness,
answer me in truth.
(The stones are slippery
but my feet step with firmness.
The slippery stones bruise me
and I still walk secure.)

My arms ache from the weight of him,
it was just for a moment's time.
They left me alone,
holding him there,
alone for one kind moment,
his body resting, finally resting
heavy on my knees,
strange, bewildering shalom,
but time was short... the sun on its
downward course.

I watched them wrap him tenderly,
entwining his body in clean linen,
swaddled as I once swaddled his infant frame,
enwrapped as he daily wrapped himself in his shawl
of prayer,
from heaven to earth... from earth to
heaven...
born and born and born again,
light of God wrapped in flicking mystery.

They worked quickly,
wiping him only,
leaving washing till after,
closing his eyes... dabbing with myrrh,
sweet-oil soothing his brow,
the work as much as a gift for them as for
him.
God's law is kind and caring.

We didn't speak aloud,
hushed the simple prayer and blessings
soft-whispered phrases plaintive on the wind,
resonant the ancient melodies,
barely audible the sighs.
His head cradled in the resting stone,
I covered his face with a linen cloth.

I sat on the ledge beside him,
sharing his newly hewn stone,
solid stone, beneath us both.
The world stopped... finally peaceful,
scent of fresh linen and sweet-oil
overcoming the scent of wood
and nails and blood and thornspray,
sound of silence
drowning the tumult of the day.

Thought by thought I let it go,
step by step I put questioning behind me.
Nearing the Mount of Olives pool,
releasing each haunting memory,
I prepare my mind for God.