fifth tuesday in lent

“Pursue love and strive for the spiritual gifts” 1 Corinthians 14:1a

if

we walk slow enough,

become distracted by our devices,

fall further and further behind,

we will never catch up with

love

and never have to listen

to her yack on about

compassion

hospitality,

justice,

peace,

and all those other things

at which the world laughs

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fifth monday in lent

“He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’   Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them,” Mark 9:35-36

then you take

the young person spending

their days picking up supplies

for the vulnerable in our midst,

the older folks in retirement

dusting off their sewing machines

to make masks and gowns

for the front line at the hospitals,

the neighbors who cannot gather

to worship at their churches

but are in the parking lots

feeding those who haven’t

had a decent meal since the

orders for shutdown were given,

saying

‘there . . .  there they are:

the lasts of the world

gathering up the little ones

in their arms and holding them

just as i showed them.”

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fifth sunday in lent

 “so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.” Romans 12:5

scattered,

we are still held

in that sanctuary

called your heart.

isolated,

we are still holding

hands with your Spirit

who teaches new dance steps

and songs for these moments.

alone,

we are still family

who love those we cannot see,

who hear the hearts

of those we cannot hold,

who reaches out to care

for all who have cared for us

until we are gathered

together on that day

which will become

a new day of resurrection

for all your children.

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fifth saturday in lent

“Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant . . .” 1 Corinthians 13: 4 ff

love is

a weary nurse refusing

to leave the side of a patient,

a neighbor sharing a bag

of groceries with a newcomer in the ‘hood;

love isn’t jealous of those who are healthy,

or boasts on social media about its hoard of supplies,

or pushes in front of the old guy at the store,

or blames their problems on folks they don’t know.

love isn’t a bully on the playground,

or a grumbling spouse because the toast is burnt,

or ripped because someone got the last 6-pack of water;

it does not mock those who believe in a different way,

but realizes everyone sees faith through their own heart.

love carries all those we cannot,

love listens to all those we won’t,

love trusts all those we don’t,

love pushes on even when we disappoint it.

nothing, not even a virus, can destroy love.

like chaff, politicians’ words will scatter;

as for sound bites, they will fade way,

as for scammers, they will hear only dial tones.

we don’t know as much as we like to think we do,

and we like to grumble under our breath,

but when the moment finally comes,

we will run into each other’s arms.

we can stamp our feet, and hold

our breath, trying to turn blue,

but the day will come when we

have to become the adults in the room.

we may not see when these moments end,

but we see God’s face in everyone around us;

we don’t have all the answers, but trust

that God does and is giving them to the right people.

grace, hope, peace, joy, love, wonder, life

is all around us, in these moments like always,

and love is the glue that binds them all together

in the gift which is God’s heart beating for us.

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

 

fifth friday in lent

“my soul waits for the Lord

    more than those who watch for the morning,
    more than those who watch for the morning.”  Psalm 130:6

we’re not those people,

Lord,

these waiters,

these watchers;

we’re impatient,

always-in-a-hurry

let’s-get-it-done

and move on folks

who don’t notice much

around us, so

in these times, when

we are forced (against

every instinct we have)

may we learn

to wait with increasing

hope that you are in

our midst, just like always

(though we never saw you),

and to watch, with clear eyes,

the sunrise and

to hear, with rested ears,

the birds sing and

to finally see you

in the neighbor who has

waved at us every morning,

though we never waved back

even once

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fifth thursday in lent

“He asked them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’” Mark 8:29a

you are the spirits distiller

who stops looking at profits

to start making hand sanitizers,

you are the health director

who remains calm while

the rest of us embrace panic,

you are the high school kids

who lose their shining moment

in the spring musical, but

sing for strangers on social media;

you are

who

we long to be

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fifth wednesday in lent

“And he sighed deeply in his spirit and said, ‘Why does this generation ask for a sign?’” Mark 8:12a

the teachers in a convoy

of cars driving through

their students’ neighborhood

to let them know they are loved

beyond measure (not just missed);

the police stopping folks

to offer them a roll of toilet paper

rather than a ticket;

the grocery chain ordering pizza

for all its employees as

a great big thank you (as

well as helping out the pizza folks):

how many more signs

do we need that

grace

is afoot in our days?

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth tuesday in lent

“For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” 1 Corinthians 11:26

in emptied sanctuaries

with the techie a safe distance,

with a few saltine crackers

and a glass of orange juice,

around a kitchen table and

hearing the words online,

with a slice of whole wheat

and a glass of milk,

gathered in a living room

or sheltered in a lonely apartment,

we proclaim your death,

O Lord,

even as we await the promise

of new days, new hope, new life,

when we are called from the tomb

of isolation

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth monday in lent

“He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is, ‘Be opened.’  And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.”  Mark 7:33-35

remove the fearwax

so

we may hear your

whispers of hope

and

tell others of your

grace that surrounds

us in these moments

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth sunday in lent

"For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.”  Romans 8:14

lead us, Spirit of healing,

into solitude for the good

of our communities;

lead us, Spirit of grace,

into acts of remote kindness,

enriching the lives of those

we cannot touch physically;

lead us, Spirit of peace,

into gentle places of hope

where we can rest in your serenity,

even as we wait for that time

when we can be, once more,

one with all of God’s children.

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth saturday in lent

“But I trust in you, O Lord;

    I say, ‘You are my God.
 My times are in your hand;” Psalm 31:14-15a

as moment drifts

into moment, and

one day slides

into the next, as

the future seems

more uncertain

than ever before,

remind us that we

are cradled in the hands

of the Time Maker

and Keeper of our Moments,

who will not let us slip

through your fingers

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth friday in lent

“for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’”  Mark 6:50

in our worries,

let us not overlook you

in the person shopping

for all her neighbors;

in our terrors,

let us not fail to notice you

in the health care providers

working extra hours;

in our enforced solitude,

let us not look past you

waving at us across

the courtyard, backyard,

hospital hallway, grocery store,

using sign language to tell us,

‘i love you’

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth thursday in lent

“ Do not hide your face from me.

Do not turn your servant away in anger,
    you who have been my help.
Do not cast me off, do not forsake me,
    O God of my salvation!”  Psalm 27:9

there!

in the compassionate eyes

of the nurse behind

the protective mask;

there!

in the young person

who knocks on the door

asking what they can bring us;

there!

in the kids across the street

who sit on their porches

playing music for their

neighbors . . .

there!

we see your face!

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

fourth wednesday in lent

“O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice;

    in the morning I plead my case to you, and watch.” Psalm 5:3

for little kids waking up

cranky and weary (already)

of a new routine;

for parents struggling

to be teachers of stuff

they had forgotten years ago;

for researchers cracking weary spines

and trying not to touch aching eyes,

searching for a new vaccine,

a quicker way to diagnose;

for those whose isolation

is a prison sentence, and

those who would serve right beside them

in nursing homes, and hospital rooms;

for those whose tapping feet

long to take them out into a world

they know they must avoid;

for all and every, for each and one,

we pray, O Lord,

hear our voices

hear our hearts

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third tuesday in lent

“‘Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?’” Mark 6:3

you watch

(not trying to laugh)

as we hammer our thumbs,

saw boards too short,

get so much glue on our hands

that our fingers stick together;

then you come

in your sawdusty coveralls,

your sweat stained hat,

your faded corduroy shirt, and

mend the cracks in our relationships,

clear the pipes so 

living water flows freely,

caulk the windows in our hearts

so that the evil one’s cold breath

cannot slip in, then mopping your face

and washing your hands, you ask,

“got anything to eat

for a hunger handyman?”

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third monday in lent

“May integrity and uprightness preserve me,

    for I wait for you.”  Psalm 25:21

noticing my twitching knees

and shuffling feet, new friends

Honor and Justice

each grab a hand, so

i can’t dart into the street

before you blow the whistle,

stopping temptation’s busy traffic,

so that we can cross

over to Eden’s playground

safely

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third sunday in lent

“When shall I come and behold

    the face of God?” Psalm 42:2b

in the weary face

of the stocker who patiently

tells a customer, “i’m sorry,

we’re out and hope for more

to arrive tomorrow,” and then

repeats it 500 more times,

in the lined visage

of the staff caring for

the most vulnerable who

do not understand their isolation,

on the tear-stained cheeks

of the wife holding her hand

against the window with her

husband’s hand pressing

the other side, because she

cannot visit the nursing home,

we see your face, O God,

if we dare to take notice

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third saturday in lent

“My times are in your hand;

    deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors” Psalm 31:15

when the world would knock me

over with a shopping cart to get

the last package of toilet paper,

when the angry voices holler at me

to turn my back on your future,

when people point a finger at me

and accuse me of preaching

perspective over panic,

remind me that these moments,

like all time, are measured by

your grace and hope, not

our foolish fears and worries

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third friday in lent

“But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’”  Mark 4:38

when the waves of worry

threaten to sink our hearts

and the thunder of rumors

rattles the windows of our souls,

we look to see if you care, but

you are working 24/7

on a vaccine for the world,

handing out grocery bags

full of hope to those who

found all the shelves stripped

by the hoarders,

stretching your aching back

and rubbing tired feet, before

heading back on your shift

in the hospitals

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third thursday in lent

“But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever;

    your name endures to all generations.” Psalm 102:12

when you could stay

in your jammies, stretched

out in the recliner watching

the game and talk shows

the rest of the day, you

pull on your jeans, muddy work

boots and frayed, corduroy shirt,

gulping the last of your coffee

and grabbing your lunch box

as you head out the door to

feed the folks standing at

the kitchen doors of restaurants,

listen to the broken hearts

of the kids at the bus stops,

walk the assisted living hallways

with all those who have been

abandoned by everything but

their memories, tagging after them

like fading shadows

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

third wednesday in Lent

“If my father and mother forsake me,

    the Lord will take me up.”  Psalm 27:10

we come home

only to find a suitcase

(containing all we have)

on the front porch, a note

telling us all the locks

have been changed, and

through the tears, we

can barely see you sitting

in your banged-up, rusting

pickup, until you throw open

the passenger door, hollering

‘hop in!  let’s go hang out

at my place!  I’ve got plenty

of extra space.’ 

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

second tuesday in lent

“Lead me in your truth, and teach me,

    for you are the God of my salvation;
    for you I wait all day long.”  Psalm 25:5

though pock-marked with

bullet holes and hanging by

a single, rusted nail, i followed

the sign pointing down candor’s path,

and i was not disappointed

where it leads me.

though friends laugh, strangers

turn away in disbelief, and

the world mocks, i believe

you are the way for me,

and i will not be disappointed.

though the seconds tick slowly

the minutes move at snail’s pace

and the hours seem

to be more than 24, i wait,

and am not disappointed

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

second monday in lent

“Already you have all you want! Already you have become rich! Quite apart from us you have become kings! Indeed, I wish that you had become kings, so that we might be kings with you!” 1 Corinthians 4:8

that’s the problem

with you, God – you

expect us to be satisfied

with what we already have,

while we look around

and see only the things

we don’t hold onto and

want to clasp in our tight

greedy grasp

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

second sunday in lent

“My soul thirsts for God,

    for the living God.”  Psalm 42:2

knowing how parched

is my soul, the barkeep

pulls out the bottle of aged

death, nodding as he starts

to pour, then smiling as i say,

‘make it a double,’

not noticing you outside,

handing out bottles of life

distilled in your heart

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

second saturday in lent

“For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?”  1 Corinthians 4:7

when my words

are as bitter as

the next person’s;

when my anger

is as raw as those

raging in public forums;

when my fears

comfort me more

than my faith, well,

why should anyone

notice anything different

enough that they want

to listen to me,

draw close to me,

share with me?

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

second friday in lent

“Do not deceive yourselves. If you think that you are wise in this age, you should become fools so that you may become wise.”  1 Corinthians 3:18

holding up a mirror

for us, your smile gets

bigger and bigger as we

don the greasepaint, red noses,

rainbow hair, baggy pants,

size 23 shoes, and then we

all squeeze in next to you

in grace’s teeny tiny car,

racing around, squirting people

with seltzer bottles full of hope

every chance we get, and putting

big grins on people’s faces

as we show that the real fools

are those who discover that

goodness is stronger than evil,

peace is better than war,

a hug is the welcome everyone needs,

and that you are the biggest fool

of all, because you trust us

with the message of love to the world

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman