Easter

we would have
no trouble
believing
if
your teachings had
been passed down,
each new generation
copying them down
from the blackboard
into their blue books;
your thoughts had
spawned a philosophy
which took up a
whole department
in the university;
your followers had
organized a political power
which threw the rascals
out of power;
 
but you . . .?
 
you turn to face
us,
a dead ringer
for our friend
laid in the grave,
 
scaring us
half
to life.
 
© Thom M. Shuman
 
 

Holy Saturday

 “You came near when I called on you;
    you said, ‘Do not fear!’” Lamentations 3:57
 
into the shadows that seem
so thick we cannot see
our hope in front of our faces,
into the silence that is
so deafening we cannot
hear a whisper of grace,
into the brokenness not
even the queen’s guard
can put back together,
into the tears which quench
the flickering candle
of our faith,
into the death which seems
to have the final word
over us, you come and
take us by the hand,
‘don’t be scared, sillies;
i’ve been down here before
and know the way out.’
 
© Thom M. Shuman
 

Grim Friday

 “But this I call to mind,
    and therefore I have hope:” Lamentations 3:21
 
when each moment
stretches out endlessly,
when our loneliness seems
to throw us off kilter,
when the forecast for life today
shows fears storms swirling around us,
may we hear that hope
you whispered while wrapped
in death’s chill embrace:
 
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
    his mercies never come to an end;” Lamentations 3:22
 
© 2022 Thom M. Shuman
 

Holy Thursday

 “While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, ‘Take; this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it.”  Mark 14:22-23
 
when we had eaten
our fill, we got up
from the table, brushing
the crumbs of you off
our laps, and
as you turned to go
out the door, we quickly
emptied the half-full cups
hoping our senses might be
dulled enough to let us
sleep
while your tears dropped
down into the dust
of that shadowed garden
blooming into black roses
 
© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Holy Wednesday

 “But if anyone has caused pain . . . I urge you to reaffirm your love for him.” 2 Corinthians 2: 5a, 8a
 
we find it so easy
to hold grudges against
those we have never met
simply
because of how they look,
what comes out of their mouths,
their political beliefs, so
remind us that even
in the final days, up
to that very last breath,
you continued to love those
closest to you,
the very best of friends
who denied you,
turned their backs on you,
betrayed you
forgot you
 
© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

holy tuesday

“Zion stretches out her hands, but there is no one to comfort her; the LORD has commanded against Jacob that his neighbors should become his foes; Jerusalem has become a filthy thing among them.
The LORD is in the right, for I have rebelled against his word; but hear, all you peoples, and behold my suffering; my young women and young men have gone into captivity.” Lamentations 1:17-18

you stretch
out
your hands
hoping someone
(anyone)
will grasp them
tenderly,
compassion's balm
softening the callused
pads of your palms;
firmly,
with the grip
of friendship
drawing you into
an embrace;
hopefully,
as the hearts
of others swaddle
your shattered heart . . .
but
we slap them
away
muttering
for you to leave us

alone.

© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Holy Monday

 “Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my spirit upon him;
    he will bring forth justice to the nations.”
Isaiah 42:1
 
in the former comedian
serious about saving his country,
in the children who
stand up to bullies
on playgrounds as well
as in legislatures,
in the young people
who long to be accepted
for who they know they are
and not how others define them,
in the older folks
who will not go gently
into that night (or day)
of being discounted,
 
we are surrounded by
more servants than
we can begin to imagine
 
© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Palm/Passion Sunday

 “Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope;
    today I declare that I will restore to you double.” Zechariah 9:12
 
locked into pandemic’s
prison with the key
thrown away,
hope
uses our brittle fears
to pick open the door
to lead us back into life.
after months (no, years!)
of feeling we were
isolated from compassion,
hope tiptoes into our
hearts to take us by the hand,
and lead us out to that
dusty road we’ve walked
every day of every month.
 
however long the past
has been and however
uncertain the future seems,
yet
we will double down
on hope
just as you did,
our Sibling in love.
 
© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Sixth Saturday in Lent

“Then Jesus said to him, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ The blind man said to him, ‘My teacher, let me see again.’” Mark 10:51

gently remove those
cataracts of aging prejudices,
pull out the logs
of our long loneliness,
wipe away the gunk
caused by the bitter
words flung at others
so
we can see clearly
the hope, the wonder,
the justice, the grace
all around us.

© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Sixth Friday in Lent

“But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

in those tossed aside
by an uncaring world,
in the folks sleeping
rough on park benches,
in lives shattered by
isolation’s pandemic,
in the ones whose future
lies in dust at their feet,
we find the heirlooms
of your heart, that
grace, that wonder,
that justice, that hospitality
we would never have
within ourselves if
you had not placed them
there

© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Sixth Thursday in Lent

“Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness,” 2 Corinthians 3:12

the
always-running-for-office
try to convince us
that they are our only hope,
but you take the little child
who is making sandwiches
for the homeless and say,
‘notice her, not them.’

some are still afraid
to venture out and in to
stores, restaurants, and such,
and instead of trying to
guilt them into joining them,
may we get instahope
to place a delivery
in front of their door.

© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Sixth Wednesday in Lent

“and you show that you are a letter of Christ, prepared by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.” 2 Corinthians 3:3

no matter how
hard i rub,
hope
will not be erased.
no matter how often
i press the button,
grace
will not
be deleted.
no matter how
many times i
tear it up and
throw it away,
love
will still be written.

for you are the
Author
of my heart

© 2020 Thom M. Shuman

Fifth Tuesday in Lent

“I sought the LORD, and he answered me,
and delivered me from all my fears.
Look to him, and be radiant;
so your faces shall never be ashamed.
This poor soul cried, and was heard by the LORD,
and was saved from every trouble. Psalm 34:4-6

i walked the streets
trying to find someone
who knew what i was
going through these days
but figured the homeless
veteran sitting in the doorway
would not have any wisdom.
i wandered through the day
the shadow of my worries
trailing behind me, as i longed
to find that joy i dropped
somewhere earlier, but never
noticed the golden retriever
with the goofy smile trembling
to be my faithful friend.
i sat at the bus stop
muttering disjointed words
and snippets of song which
echoed my soul’s pain,
and the little lady next
to me smiled, and whispered,
‘it will be okay, hon’ and held
my hand all the way until
i reached my corner, three
stops past where she
usually got off

© 2022 Thom M. Shuman

Fifth Monday in Lent

"Let your steadfast love become my comfort

    according to your promise to your servant.”
Psalm 119:76

when the bullies of hate
hurl their words at us,
your love wraps itself
around us like a shawl.
when we wonder what
we can do for those
held captive by prejudice,
your justice takes us
by the hand and shows
us the skills we need.
when the months of
fear and isolation keep us
from running into the future,
your hope teaches us
the baby steps we need.

© 2022 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

while we were scattered,
you gathered us in that
sacred space of your heart.
while we were isolating,
Spirit reached out to
place our hands in those
who were far away, so
we could listen to those
new songs of life and
dance together at
double arms’ length.
even alone
we were still family
with those we could not
see, except through windows.
and as we waited
behind the stone
pandemic had rolled
across the entrance of our lives,
we waited patiently
for you to call us forth
into that new day of resurrection
for all.

© 2022 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 takes its time
with those in a rush.
love is a gentle hand
instead of a slap,
love never wants
what others have,
never pats itself of the back,
never puffs itself up or
pushes others out of the way.
love lets others break in line;
it doesn’t get is knickers
in a twist over silly things
nor does it get hostile
when others bug it.
it doesn’t applaud foolishness,
and it honors factcheckers.
love carries the fallen
believes the discounted,
hopes when others mock,
sticks with others through
everything and everyone one.
nothing can stop love from loving.
not the angry words of politicians
or the pomposity of commentators,
not the long-tenured professor
or the glib-tongued salesperson.
we don’t have a clue about life
though we claim to have solved the mystery,
but when we reach the end,
it will all fall in place for us, even
the parts we skipped over.
we have been babies and toddlers,
tweeners and teenagers, thinking
we were learning all we needed,
but now we know less than we did.
we wipe the fog off the mirror
and all we see is our foolishness,
but one day we will see God’s face.
we may be preschoolers when
it comes to understanding grace,
but there will be that moment
when God hands as our diploma
whispering, ‘i never doubted you.’
all those gifts we sing about, talk about,
try to share with others are all around us,
woven together by that scarlet thread
called love

© 2022 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 that sort,
Lord,
those who wait
those who watch.
we are the impatient ones,
always running, always rushing,
flitting from one thing to another.

we’re not that sort,
Lord,
those who wait
those who watch.
yet
(in these last months)
we have discovered
the patience underlying
the hard task of waiting
for
hope to appear on horizons
grace to tiptoe down the hall
love to whisper in our ears.

we’re not that sort,
Lord,
those who wait
those who watch.
yet
in those uncertain days
when we kept cleaning
our glasses and putting
drops in our eyes for
fear we couldn’t see clearly,
we have learned to practice
the spiritual discipline of
watching

simply keeping (not
just our eyes) but our
souls wide open
to find you in the places
and people we never expected

© 2022 Thom M. Shuman