Jesus speaks of his wife: Now That She’s a Fake
Now that fellow bloggers are asking – and answering – “Is the Gospel of Jesus’ Wife a Fake?“. . . ,
Now that somebody is finally calling into question “the Academy’s and Church’s continued exclusion of single persons” – and blogging at least – “Two of the best responses” to the brouhaha . . . ,
It’s time for the perfect elegy. Jesus said to them (that is, to his disciples), “My wife” . . . ,
And, then, since they were arguing so typically about so many other things (these men), he turned and said to her (or perhaps still to them):
NATURE’S lay idiot, I taught thee to love,
And in that sophistry, O ! thou dost prove
Too subtle ; fool, thou didst not understand
The mystic language of the eye nor hand ;
Nor couldst thou judge the difference of the air
Of sighs, and say, “This lies, this sounds despair” ;
Nor by th’ eye’s water cast a malady
Desperately hot, or changing feverously.
I had not taught thee then the alphabet
Of flowers, how they, devisefully being set
And bound up, might with speechless secrecy
Deliver errands mutely, and mutually.
Remember since all thy words used to be
To every suitor, “Ay, if my friends agree ;”
Since household charms, thy husband’s name to teach,
Were all the love-tricks that thy wit could reach ;
And since an hour’s discourse could scarce have made
One answer in thee, and that ill array’d
In broken proverbs, and torn sentences.
Thou art not by so many duties his—
That from th’ world’s common having sever’d thee,
Inlaid thee, neither to be seen, nor see—
As mine ; who have with amorous delicacies
Refined thee into a blissful paradise.
Thy graces and good works my creatures be ;
I planted knowledge and life’s tree in thee ;
Which O ! shall strangers taste? Must I, alas !
Frame and enamel plate, and drink in glass?
Chafe wax for other’s seals? break a colt’s force,
And leave him then, being made a ready horse?
Oh. Right. That wasn’t Jesus complaining about his wife, his lover, (that woman) in Elegy VII. It was John Donne (whole poem, fragmented poet, “fake” exposer).