Saint Mary of Egypt: A Modern Verse Life

a 3 October 2023 posting on Collegeville Institute

In her book, Saint Mary of Egypt: A Modern Verse Life, and Interpretation, poet and scholar Bonnie B. Thurston examines the life of Saint Mary of Egypt, whose story is well known to Orthodox Christians and monastics, but not to Western Christians.   Thurston offers a series of original free verse poems in multiple voices to convey both the signposts of Mary’s life and their spiritual significance.   The poems are followed by an extensive prose interpretation.

“In reading versions of Mary of Egypt’s life,“ writes Thurston, “I was, frankly, often struck by what a juicy and rollicking good tale it is… Here is a woman who turned from God in childhood, enjoyed a wickedly immoral life, came to repentance by a miracle of Our Lady’s intervention, then lived an ascetical and saintly life into old age, and when she died, was buried by a monk and a lion.”

Thurston points out that one unusual aspect of Mary of Egypt’s story is that her conversion comes following an encounter with an icon of the Virgin Mary.  When Mary of Egypt attempts to enter the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, she is barred by a mysterious force, and only after encountering the Virgin Mary  in an icon is the door opened to her.  Afterwards, it is the Theotokos who guides here into the desert and to whom she offers continuous devotion.

Another aspect of the story Thurston explores is the relationship between Mary of Egypt and the monk Father Zossima who encounters her in the desert and brings her story to the world.  Thurston relates that “Father Zossima is no saint.   Zossima’s sins are primarily those of the spirit, of pride or hubris, and his life has been one of apparent moral perfection within church structures as he sought more and more rigorous monasteries, sensing that there was something more than what he had experienced.  In encountering Mary of Egypt, he recognizes his shortcomings.  His metanoia comes through Mary, whom, importantly, he also comes to love.  She receives the Sacrament at his hands, as he receives his humanity at her feet.  In that encounter, which reverses the gender roles in Luke 7.36-50, he weeps.

Thus, Thurston sees in their mutual need for each other, “a narrative of complementarity.  The male Zossima as representative of the institutional church (or office), and the female Mary representative of “unregulated” or “unorthodox” spiritual life (charism), each, in different ways, find their fulfilment or completion in the other.

We offer here four of Thurston’s original poems in four voices:  Mary of Egypt, the Virgin Mary, the lion, and Father Zossima.

Mary of Egypt explains Why

I did not do it for money.

For that I begged.

I did it for lust.

I opened my flower,

spread its petals

for anyone who sniffed

around my garden,

garden of delights, 

for more than one, 

garden of the fall.

At its center,

my insatiable center,

was luscious fruit,

carnal knowledge

of good and evil.

I offered the choice 

to all comers,

laughed, then moaned

as they put their hungry 

hands to the plow.

The Blessed Virgin Mary

…. Weeping may endure for a night,

but joy cometh in the morning [Psalm 30.5a]

I heard other pilgrims call her

“that little whore from Alexandria.”

But I knew her burning was

of an altogether different ilk.

“She weepeth sore in the night,

of her lovers, none comfort her” [Isaiah 53.2]

She was an ember longing for Light.

Thrice the spirit of my Son

barred her from His door.

But I spoke to Him who loves

Me and repentant sinners.  

So He turned her toward 

His universal mother’s arms.

In me her heart’s eyes saw

the imprint of nails and cross,

torturous instruments of true love,

sorrow and comfort of all the burning

who pass through death’s waters

and, like Mary of Egypt, rise up

shining with reflected glory.

The Lion Watches

Like as a lion that is greedy of his prey.

and as it were a young lion lurking in secret places [Psalm 17.12]

I watched them meet,

the pompous old priest,

the wizened old woman.

Her I cared for. 

She chose our desert, 

persevered here,

flourished in her way,

 came to love ours.  

Even the snakes 

leave her alone.

Deserts are hot places

that get cold at night.

When it was frigid,

I wrapped around her

as if I were a mere

Egyptian house cat.

She’d troubles with 

males of her species.

Their females do.

If he threatens her,

though not worth

the effort for a meal,

I shall kill him.

But for now, I watch.

Zossima’s Year of Vigil

I thought myself a perfect monk

Until I met penitence perfected

in one who had forgotten self.

She had no form or comeliness,

no beauty that I should desire her.

Yet she is lodged in my heart  

as if some missing part

craved reunion and healing.

Day and night I desired

Her face, manner, humility,

Yet kept my promised peace.

Lent arrived, monks departed.

Felled by fever, I kept to my cell 

until the brothers returned

for Christ Last, Holy Supper.

Then I gathered figs, dates, lentils,

the Sacred Bread and Wine

fronm the Lamb's high feast.

The day far spent, I left

for the Jordan, to watch 

for her for whom I hungered,

praying, “God in whom I believe,

let me see what I desire.”

“Do not send me away without 

seeing her whom you once allowed me to behold. 

Do not let me depart empty-handed, carrying 

my own sins for judgment.

Fearing her forgetful or faithless,

this old man waited in darkness

of bridegroom for beloved.