Monday, February 27, 2012

Matthew 14:1-12

The main problem with the monologue is that I don't have the repeating theme yet - Elizabeth's was "I bore it for him." I need to figure out what that button is for Joanna. Hopefully that'll come as I keep writing.

The account of the beheading of John the Baptist doesn't say anything about Joanna, so I end up imagining her there. What was she doing there in the first place? Some fictional accounts of her life suggest that her family had become Hellenized, but it could have been simply that they were driven to dire straits, didn't particularly care about the politics, or simply wanted to do what they were good at. But it must have been hard to practice your faith properly in that house. It must have been hard to feel a true part of the religious community working for that house. I can imagine her feeling lost.

And then there's the Desert Prophet, whom some said was the Messiah, staying in the dungeons. So close. How could you not wander down? I imagine all of Herod's household wandered down at some point - to mock, to gawk, and perhaps even some to listen. I imagine him perking up when she came down, uncertain why. Uncertain what she came to see. Knowing only that she was lost, and this man claimed to offer second chances. People came from encounters with him changed.

"When he spoke, I felt the world shift. The law of the prophets, the old ways going back to Adam and Eve, it was all shifting from under foot. I had never been entirely attached to all of it. I had never been a fanatic. I had never even been a very good Jew. It didn't shake my world to have all those things, the old covenant, slide away. I knew many people it threw - many people who couldn't bear to let go. I tried to understand, but I never did.

They said later he infected me. It was a lie, as they said it. He didn't plant anything new in me. I wished he had, at times. No, he just sent the foundations sliding out from under my feet. It wasn't that I was sorry to see them go. I just couldn't have imagined what would take their place.

He never had the chance to show me. I was there for the end of the dance. The dance of Salome, Herod's step-daughter. A talented one, in her way. She only wanted to dance. She threw herself into it, and all the men swarming around her thought it was for them. But she only danced. Danced and danced, for no one but herself. I envied her that - that she had a way to express who she was, even if she never dared to speak it. Even when Herod offered her half the kingdom, she looked up, surprised to find any man there. Surprised as ever by their lust but willing to use it. She asked her mother what to ask for. She could not imagine having a voice of her own.

But then, neither could I, while I was in that house. I flew to John, to see him before he died. It never occurred to me to speak for him. Not the world he changed around me, not the slipping foundations, not seeing Salome dance to feel herself move. When she danced, everyone watched and no one saw her. Women turned away, even her mother, in embarrassment. She silenced everyone with her dance, including herself. All the eyes on her stopped every ear to anything she might say.

She asked for the head of John the Baptist, and I never thought to speak for him. I always thought that was why the demon came."

That's a bit sloppy and needs some work, but there might be something in that - Joanna finding the way to expression that is affirming and empowers others to speak.