In the Vestry (47)....

 ....

"But what of Christ's crucifixion?
....

Our salvation in His resurrection?
....

Had He not died for our sins,
....

What state would our poor souls be in?"
....

And here the clever Bishop smiled,
....

"In Christ we'd all be reconciled,
....

For by what act can we be purged
....

Of that great sin that mankind urged:
....

The murder of God's only Son,
....

Oh had that act not been done!
....

We killed the rightful Heir to Heaven,
....

Of He who built the earth in seven;
....

What fast or act of contrition
....

Can ameliorate that act’s sedition;
....

How many blows of the whip,
....

How many prayers murmured by our lips,
....

Can wash away our awful guilt
....

His Perfect Son, His Blood we spilt.
....

We refused to pay the vineyard rent,
....

Then killed His Son who God had sent."....

In the Vestry (46)....

 ....

The Pilgrim stood amazed, aghast,
....

Was this the man who led the Mass,
....

Who offered up the blood of Christ
....

In memory of His sacrifice?
....

"Let me be clear in what you've said,
....

I stand alarmed in fear and dread,
....

My eyes and ears ope' amazed
....

I doubt my senses on such days;
....

Had Jesus submitted to the Priests
....

And been a servant in His own fief,
....

He might have risen to be Chief,
....

Not crucified for His beliefs?
....

Had He not engaged in monologues
....

But risen in the synagogue,
....

He would've changed our human course,
....

And we'd have known far less remorse?"
....

The Bishop smiled, "You get my point,
....

His only error, He did Self-anoint;
....

Oh, He had the blessing of wild man John
....

Who roused Herod with false alarm,
....

A desert rat who lived on locusts,
....

A man whose mind was out of focus;
....

A man who had no Authority,
....

From Temple in his ministry;
....

Had Jesus been the Chief Rabbi
....

So many Jews would have survived;
....

The Temple Curtain would've not been rent;
....

The Roman siege  a non-event;
....

 ....

 ....

The Zealots would not have rebelled;
....

The city's towers would have not been felled;....

The Jews and Romans reconciled
....

Within His beatific Holy smile;
....

Jerusalem would stand today
....

And so would Rome, I dare to say!
....

Caesar would have talked to Christ
....

And benefited from His advice."....

In the Vestry (45)....

 ....

That very Sunday afternoon....

The Pilgrim was led to a private room,
....

There stood the Bishop in his golden vestments
....

Having just performed the Sacraments;
....

"Tell me something of yourself,
....

What do you seek, power, wealth?
....

Why do you disturb Holy Mother Church?
....

Tell me Pilgrim, for what do you search?"
....

He answered standing in tattered clothes,....

His sandals broken at the toes:....

“Like Christ I put no faith in possessions,
....

The pursuit of power is not my obsession,
....

I simply seek to do the good,
....

In fellowship and brotherhood."
....

The Bishop smiled and called him "Son,
....

You walk the path as Christ has done;
....

Commendable, but a pain-filled route,
....

What He could have done being more astute?
....

Had He chosen to take the well trod path,
....

He would have aroused far less wrath;
....

Had He aimed to become a Temple Priest
....

He might have then assured the peace;
....

But He chose to preach outside the fold
....

And what was worse, His betters scold;
....

Had He been more patient and circumspect,
....

Had He stuck to parables and been less direct,
....

 ....

 ....

He might have risen to be High Priest,
 ....

No Last Supper but a Passover feast,
....

We could've all sat down and joined hands,
....

Without sacrificing The Son of Man."....

Walking on the morning beach

The herons cry, the sea gulls screech,

In the graying light of dawn

I come upon a sandy form;

 ....

And reaching down I almost toddle,

Grasping it, it is a bottle,

Caked with sea weed and with sand,

It feels so cold within my hand;

 ....

I brush the sand off the green glass,

I almost drop it from my grasp;

But seeing there’s a note within,

I am intrigued by such a whim;

 ....

I work the cork to pull it out,

It’s glued within the tapered spout,

I hold the bottle by the stock

And smash it on a sea side rock;

 ....

I lift the paper from the shards,

And open it, it is a card;

It’s damp with algae and sea stained,

It bears a cry, “Forsake not Elaine.”

 ....

For who on what isle so remote

Would send this vague and desperate note;

To whom there’d be such chanced appeal;

Above the sea gulls cry and wheel;

For who on what isle so remote

Would use a bottle as a boat

To whom there'd be such chanced appeal;

Above the sea gulls cry and wheel'

 ....

From what sandy strand or distant cove

Did she cast this cry to move,

An urgent call from out the heart,

But where to find her, where to start?

 ....

And so I’m on the internet,

As a path a better bet;

To find the soul far out of reach,

Whose cry I found upon the beach.

In the Sacristy (44)....

 ....

The Bishop Judge was much displeased,
....

"A canker sore, a vile disease,
....

Can broadly spread its foul infection,
....

If we don’t act at it’s first detection;
....

The body of Our Holy Mother,
....

The Virgin Sisters, the Holy Brothers,
....

Will wear the badge of pestilence
....

If we don't act in their defense;
....

A demon horde stands at our gates ....

With beating swords, their lust to sate,....

With catapults and battering rams,
....

The pagan dead, the living damned,
....

To invade the precincts of our city,
....

To rape and rob, devoid of pity,
....

To overthrow all law and order
....

To sow the seeds of gross disorder;
....

They'll hold aloft upon their pikes
....

The ciborium and the pyx;
....

They'll pry the jewels from the chalice,
....

With greedy eyes intent on malice;
....

They'll defile the Consecrated Host,
....

With Holy Wine they'll drink and boast;
....

They'll celebrate their pagan rites
....

On the sacred altar of Jesus Christ!
....

Anarchy will rudely reign,
....

All our work will be in vain,
....

Every garden over-grown,
....

With wanton weeds, disorder sown!"....


....

 ....

The astounded Deacon looked askance
....

As the Judge raged on in his rant
....

For he felt this burden weight
....

Lay on his shoulders, confounding Fate.....