© Disclaimer: The Chosen belongs to Dallas Jenkins.
Called by name
She had long forgotten when she began to be 'Lillith'. Sometimes she felt that she had been Lillith all her life. But she had had a name. She had had a home, a loving father... and faith. But now it was all gone. She was now an empty shell, devoid of everything that once defined her.
Most of the time she felt as if she didn't even know herself anymore. It was like watching herself on a piece of rusted obsidian, a blurred and distorted image, barely recognisable. And the flashbacks, how terrifying they were. They left her breathless and shaking, getting worse every day.
"I'm in hell!"
Sol gave her a look full of compassion and worry. He had seen her at her worst and knew deep down what she was talking about. He wanted to do something to help her, but he did not know how. He feared that one day she would walk out that door and never come back.
She had every intention of doing exactly that.
Broken, hopeless, beyond repair. Even that holy man, who had come all the way from Jerusalem, could not free her from her demons. She could not remember much, but she knew that the voices in her head had scared the man away, hissing from the inside of her mouth. She hated that feeling, the aftermath of the numbness and loss of memory. She felt used, like a puppet, out of control of her own body and mind.
And she could not stand it any longer.
She found herself walking aimlessly towards a nearby cliff that had been taunting her for some time. A light breeze surrounded her, bringing the salty smell of the sea to her senses. It was quite a view. But she had only one thought in her mind, and that was to end it all. The crumbling pieces of papyrus fell effortlessly, carried away by the wind, taking with them the last words she had held on in an attempt to keep on.
She hesitated for a second, and before he could step forward, a pigeon caught her eye. She ignored it and resumed her intentions, but the pigeon fluttered again and her curiosity got the better of her, leading her away from the edge of the cliff. She followed the pigeon, oblivious to her surroundings, and before she knew it she was back at Sol's door once again.
She entered and sat down on the same stool she had left in silence hours ago. Sol's face wrinkled with concern at her distressed state.
"Did it work?"
She shaked her head in response.
"I don't know what else I can do to help you." He admitted in defeat.
"Give me that... lots of it."
"That's not going to solve your problems", he pleaded. "It's meant to distract from them".
"No more preaching. Just give it to me."
Her voiced changed subtly to an obscure tone, but he didn't back away. Instead, he tried to plead with her one last time to no avail.
"Please."
Her voice cracked and he reluctantly complied. But before she could even reach for the drink, a man he had never seen before stopped her. She looked at him in silent wonder, not understanding what was happening. Sol watched the strange exchange with confusion, and then with concern at her sudden change. She seemed disturbed and left abruptly before Sol could even try to help.
The man followed her.
She wanted to run. She didn't know why, but the whole situation made her uneasy. She felt uncomfortable and exposed, as if she had been trapped in a dark room for too long and suddenly someone opened the curtains, letting the bright daylight pierce her eyes. It was an odd sensation, and she tried to numb it with a deep gulp of the bitter drink.
"Mary."
She stopped dead on her tracks.
"Mary of Magdala."
The vase fell to the ground, shattering to pieces, but she did not hear a sound.
"Thus says the Lord who created you..."
She felt the air leave her lungs.
"And he who formed you."
Crack
"Fear not"
Crack
"For I have redeemed you"
Crack
"I have called you by name"
"You are mine".
It was as if a sharp sword had pierced right into her heart. (Someone years later would describe it exactly like that.) She found herself gasping and sobbing, and before she even realised it, tears had soaked her face, and she felt she could cry forever. Her whole body went weak, finding the only support in that strange man who had called her by her real name, and quoted word for word the only legacy her late father had left her. She didn't know how much time had passed like this, the only thing she knew was that she was no longer Lillith, and that she was finally free.
She was Mary now. As she always had been.
The Chosen is the first-ever multi-season TV show about the life of Jesus. The Chosen allows us to see Him through the eyes of those who knew Him. You can watch it for free in watch dot thechosen dot tv
I've been wanting to write something for The Chosen for a while, but I couldn't come up with anything, and I didn't want to write just for the sake of it etiher. I thought I could write something about Gaius, but I just couldn't find the right words... Yesterday, after rewatching the first episode ever I thought I could write about Mary instead and the words just came. And thus, here we are. Maybe I'l edit it later, as they are a few lines I'm not yet fully convinced with, but for now, here we are.
The episode which this is based on is one of my favorites, and as we the fans say, it totally melted my face off. It was the first I ever watched, and by the end of the episode I was moved in tears. I've been there, just like Mary, a puddle of freeing tears.
My hope is that through this show, and maybe through this small composition, others know that they are alsod called by name.