Second Thursday of Advent

   Now the festival of Unleavened Bread, which is called the Passover, was near. The chief priests and the scribes were looking for a way to put Jesus to death, for they were afraid of the people. Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was one of the twelve; he went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers of the temple police about how he might betray him to them. They were greatly pleased and agreed to give him money. So he consented and began to look for an opportunity to betray him to them when no crowd was present.
   Then came the day of Unleavened Bread, on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed. So Jesus sent Peter and John, saying, 'Go and prepare the Passover meal for us that we may eat it.' They asked him, 'Where do you want us to make preparations for it?' 'Listen,' he said to them, 'when you have entered the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him into the house he enters and say to the owner of the house, "The teacher asks you, 'Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?' " He will show you a large room upstairs, already furnished. Make preparations for us there.' So they went and found everything as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover meal. (Luke 22:1-13)

       alone

in the sacred space,
cocooned with so many
others, it is easy
to pray without ceasing,
to whisper your name in awe,
to find just the right words,
but
at home,
when the hammer hits my thumb,
when the bills fall through
the slot in the door,
when the shadows lengthen,
ah, how i use your name in a different way!

in the small group,
with those i promise to
share my deepest, darkest,
piety comes as part of the
book study,
earnestness is the pin in
my lapel,
faithfulness is always
the course of action,
but
at work,
in the cubicle, with only
the screen to monitor me,
it is easy to wander
into those sites
which shouldn't be found.

in the choir,
harmonizing with all
the other voices
in praise, wonder, joy,
and adoration, how can
i keep from singing
praises,
but
driving home,
in the anonymity of the car,
what fun to crank up the speakers,
boost the bass,
shout the demeaning, degrading,
rapping lyrics, until
i rattle the souls
of all those around me.

with no
crowd
around, how many
opportunities
abound!

© 2012 Thom M. Shuman