The man and his followers 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 irksome one who stood
in the midst of the gathering storm –
they would burn him if they could.
‘Wherever he goes, chaos follows –
mobs, and 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 them 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.
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