Μαρία η Μαγδαληνή, Constantin Tzanes, 17th Century.
Fallen onto straw, matted in blood,
The Word was borne into the world
because there was a woman,
who broke herself to make room for more.
Perfume intermingled with
rusty nails was the
breeze from the body
because there was a woman
who washed His feet.
A tomb, discovered empty,
spices scattered in haste,
news for the brothers
because there was a woman
who rose early one morning.
His garb remains unblemished
by that holy wine,
mixed with river life
every Sunday
because there is a woman
who washes the robes.
All the ways we
pretend not to see
that preaching the Gospel
has always been women’s work.
The New Jerusalem 
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