Cry of the Banshee - Episode Three
The living and the dead together in silence, waiting, listening, not knowing what was about to take place. Two things happened.. First, the light became focused on one person and the golden-red rays of that lower sun seemed to envelop the Banshee herself where she stood and the effect was that she smiled for the first time. At the same time the roots of those trees which before had seemed a violent intrusion into the space began to take on a different character altogether and became like great cords of compassion which gently moved toward the uninvited guest, surrounding her , lifting her slowly upward and creating a hallowed hand for her to sit upon and rest. Closing her eyes her body lightened. All watched in amazement hearing the voice from below speaking a kind of music, addressing her with such tender affection and great respect in words perhaps, but more like soft, sweet melodic phrases that only she could understand. In the very next moment the light broadened to include all of us and the voice became intelligible and all understood its meaning, a meaning which had never been uttered before in any church. To us the voice said: " This is my Beloved Daughter. I delight in her." And again the Voice sang these words in a different key: " This is my Beloved Daughter. I delight in her." And a third time: " This is my Beloved Daughter. I delight in her." Each time the message was heard it was like layers of history, of suffering, were being peeled away and ancient wounds revealed and healed. Each utterance like the deepest medicine penetrating the human heart. The first one and the only one to speak was Patrick, that wondrous old saint who brought the Christian faith to Ireland. He approached the Banshee, bowed to her, and knelt before her. " I ask for your forgiveness, dear lady", he began. " My Breastplate, my prayer of protection, has not protected the ones I love. I have failed to protect the people from wolves and snakes and dark birds of prey, from centuries of abuse and neglect, from the terrors and certainties of authority, power and control. I have failed to protect the very people whom I love from a religion that suppresses and silences the songs and chants, the beliefs and ways of a people I first met so long ago, my heart's love. I see it now and I ask for your forgiveness." At these words the Banshee embraced and kissed the saint. Together they wept. Together they laughed out loud! Their embrace became a dance and the trees began to move in grace-filled ways. The roof of the church opened and the sky became visible. The rays of the sun above broke through and clouds poured down rain on every single head as if in a new kind of baptism, a baptism of nature's power, of nature's beauty, of nature's hidden meanings. And a new song was heard in the native tongue, an all-embracing song. A song that listens to wind and questions the soul..A song that raises the dead and levels the living. Can the sun and the moon dance as one? Can the darkness and the light sing the same song? In the midst of this new music the old church structure dissolved like melted wax. The walls disappeared and the trees became a lovely grove surrounding and sustaining us all. Even the wolves and snakes and birds of prey were welcomed and transformed in this new ecumenical song. It was an eternal moment, a moment in which all were " blessed and could bless."
The living and the dead together in silence, waiting, listening, not knowing what was about to take place. Two things happened.. First, the light became focused on one person and the golden-red rays of that lower sun seemed to envelop the Banshee herself where she stood and the effect was that she smiled for the first time. At the same time the roots of those trees which before had seemed a violent intrusion into the space began to take on a different character altogether and became like great cords of compassion which gently moved toward the uninvited guest, surrounding her , lifting her slowly upward and creating a hallowed hand for her to sit upon and rest. Closing her eyes her body lightened. All watched in amazement hearing the voice from below speaking a kind of music, addressing her with such tender affection and great respect in words perhaps, but more like soft, sweet melodic phrases that only she could understand. In the very next moment the light broadened to include all of us and the voice became intelligible and all understood its meaning, a meaning which had never been uttered before in any church. To us the voice said: " This is my Beloved Daughter. I delight in her." And again the Voice sang these words in a different key: " This is my Beloved Daughter. I delight in her." And a third time: " This is my Beloved Daughter. I delight in her." Each time the message was heard it was like layers of history, of suffering, were being peeled away and ancient wounds revealed and healed. Each utterance like the deepest medicine penetrating the human heart. The first one and the only one to speak was Patrick, that wondrous old saint who brought the Christian faith to Ireland. He approached the Banshee, bowed to her, and knelt before her. " I ask for your forgiveness, dear lady", he began. " My Breastplate, my prayer of protection, has not protected the ones I love. I have failed to protect the people from wolves and snakes and dark birds of prey, from centuries of abuse and neglect, from the terrors and certainties of authority, power and control. I have failed to protect the very people whom I love from a religion that suppresses and silences the songs and chants, the beliefs and ways of a people I first met so long ago, my heart's love. I see it now and I ask for your forgiveness." At these words the Banshee embraced and kissed the saint. Together they wept. Together they laughed out loud! Their embrace became a dance and the trees began to move in grace-filled ways. The roof of the church opened and the sky became visible. The rays of the sun above broke through and clouds poured down rain on every single head as if in a new kind of baptism, a baptism of nature's power, of nature's beauty, of nature's hidden meanings. And a new song was heard in the native tongue, an all-embracing song. A song that listens to wind and questions the soul..A song that raises the dead and levels the living. Can the sun and the moon dance as one? Can the darkness and the light sing the same song? In the midst of this new music the old church structure dissolved like melted wax. The walls disappeared and the trees became a lovely grove surrounding and sustaining us all. Even the wolves and snakes and birds of prey were welcomed and transformed in this new ecumenical song. It was an eternal moment, a moment in which all were " blessed and could bless."
