They entered a house,
but before they could even feed or rest
a jostling crowd began to form,
like storm clouds gathering from the west;
a hungry crowd, starved of truth,
eager, clamouring to be fed.
His mother and brothers were told of this:
‘He’s out of his mind,’ they said.
The teachers from the City came
to spy on the one who stood
in the midst of the gathering storm.
They would burn him if they could.
‘Wherever he goes, chaos follows –
swarming mobs, Sabbath laws denied –
when demons rave he speaks to them:
he’s demon-possessed,’ they cried.
From the eye of the storm the Son of Woman
spoke. ‘If none speak truth to power,
then power corrupts and demons thrive.
I cast corruption out. This is my hour.
My mind’s my own, my will is God’s, and those
who cede their will to God I here acclaim
as mine, as my true sister, brother, mother,
belovèd, treasured, living in my name.
