It is so hard to love today! It is so hard to be sinless! I hate, I am sinful, I doubt, I am unsure and blaspheme. If I see him sure and steady, spread out on the boards I will not believe it. If I see him walking out with tainted men and himself untouched I will not believe it. Will Christ walk on the waves where I am drowning, or sinking down to take my hand lift both of us in rapture?

Who, then, will be this Christ that's coming? Whose Christ is this coming? Will he be just and chaste? Will he be Judas? Will Christ kiss Christ? Will Christ swing his bag of silver, swing his body from the tree? Will Christ be anointed by whores, be lover of liars, lover of women, a Christ dragged and dirtied? Will he be Christ with faith flagging, flogged, wielding wildly thorns? Will he be Christ rising from rudeness and doubt to take the cross like a shining scepter? Is this Christ the song, Christ the storm, Christ the lamb or lion? Who steps onto our stage, into our lives, dies for us? For whom will he die?

Hail, Christ's rage, raging! Hail, Christ the unknown! Hail, Christ rising from the arms of Magdalene! Hail, Christ, questioning! Hail, Christ wielding doubt, doughty, searing the skies with maledictions! Hail Christ at last loving despite all! Hail Christ born for our stage to die on our stage, our own Christ.