Holy Monday

“But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, ‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ John 12:4-5

the palms are in the bins
out by the curb, with the rest
of the trash from the weekend.
the cleaners are doing
great business making sure
all the coats and cloaks
are cleaned and pressed.
the donkey is back where
it started, tethered to another
in a series of dreary days.
the hosanna crowd has wandered
back to school, to work,
to idle hands for the Evil One
to fill with nails.
and us?
we’re back arguing about
the church budget, asking
(once again) why
you always waste grace,
mercy, justice, and hope
on all the wrong people.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Palm Sunday

“The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.” Matthew 21:6-7

most folks just walked by
for i am nothing to look at—
just a small, covered with dust
critter tethered to another morning.
yet, weathered hands untied me
whispering that i was needed
as if i might bolt in fear
and then,
a lightness sat upon me, as if
sorrow had been on a crash diet.
there was a quiet knowing between us,
just a gentle touch with his heels,
and we went down that road i knew well,
my hooves tapping out truth,
cloaks falling like questions
which had been asked about others
glory was shouted to the sky,
but in the stillness he exuded,
in the quivering in his breath,
i realized i was just
one servant carrying another,
whose silence would one day
speak louder than all
the praises offered today.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-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." Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.” Mark 10:51-52

if only it was a matter
of clearing our vision,
of removing those cataracts
of snark, cruelty, and anger
which keep us from seeing
clearly how we walk
in the opposite direction from you.
but it is grace—
that simple, totally out
of left field gift.
it is kindness—
those simple acts which
cost us nothing except
some of our time.
it is mercy—
which so many share
with us without any fanfare
but we want a gold statue
simply for thinking about it.
these are the things (and,
in truth, so many more)
which we need to have
restored in our souls,
so we might get back
on the way you offer.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Sixth Friday in Lent

"They were on the road, going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them;" Mark 10:32a

like a dog who is eager
to pull the walker down the street,
and then darts off in a different
direction because of a squirrel,
like that grandchild who,
with 4 books to be read
and requesting 3 drinks,
can turn the bedtime routine
into a classic case of delay,
like that committee which
in its third iteration with
the same members and
familiar agenda to develop
an action plan which will
simply be stuck in a drawer,
we can come up with all
kinds of reasons to keep
tugging at the hem of your robe,
trying to keep you from meeting
whatever it is you see waiting
further down the road.

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Sixth Thursday in Lent

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

it doesn’t come like the sun
springing up in the east,
no mistaking it for what it is
hope comes like a candle—
trembling hands trying
to shelter it from fear’s winds
we walk through ash-filled days:
all we have been
all we have lost
all no one wants to hear about
so from deep within us,
you whisper, ‘be bold’
not with shouts
nor dead certainty,
not unafraid
but willing to risk—
to be open to tomorrow
to shine light in every
corner of shadowed valleys
for hope is not what we hold,
but it is who holds us
as we dare to step
into grace we do not see
yet
so that with faith as thin
as a thread about to snap
and hearts about to shatter
we will live as if
resurrection
is just around the corner
waiting to surprise us.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Sixth Wednesday in Lent

“You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all; 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 3:2-3

five weeks later,
those ashes which brought us
face to face with our mortality
have been forgotten,
left behind with the dust
in the worship space,
brushed off our foreheads
to drift in the wind as we
left that sacred moment.
but you were busy,
coming behind us with
a soft broom and dustpan,
gathering up those tiny bits
of grace which no longer
mean anything to us, and
sitting at your desk and
mixing them with your tears,
you write grace, hope, peace,
justice, welcome, joy, and life
on our souls and hearts, so
we might become your
love letters to those who
look in their mailbox every day
only to find it empty.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-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

© Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman