April 9th

“When they saw him, they worshiped him, but some doubted . . . ‘And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’” Mathhew 28:17, 20b

funny?
ironic?
what?
we easily pick and choose
what we agree with—
you castigate the powerful
or call to account the wealthy
and we cheer you on,
but loving our enemies,
that’s where we part ways.
we can scruple with the best,
look at our feet and scuff
the dirt while avoiding your eyes,
find fence-sitting a spiritual gift—
but you,
never waver about us.
and even when we would
drop you in a New York minute,
you stick with us until
the bitter end
and beyond.
funny?
ironic?
what?

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

April 8th

“After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.” Matthew 28:1

on the first day
of the week,
those who weren’t
gobsmacked into silence
scratched their heads and
looked to google for an answer.
on the second day
of the week,
the entrepreneurs tried
to buy the property for
future development.
on the third day
of the week,
the theologians and
biblical scholars were
developing webinars.
on the fourth day
of the week
the women were
once more being ignored
by everyone not a woman,
while you were gobsmacked,
scratching your head
wondering what else
you had to do for us
to believe in grace.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

April 7th

“A mixed crowd also went up with them, and livestock in great numbers, both flocks and herds.” Exodus 12:38

if we look for the definition
of grace in your dictionary, God,
maybe we would find
this picture instead—
a motley crew of folks,
some with no pedigrees,
others with no heirloom histories,
just wanderers woven by hope
into that community called chosen.
you didn’t stop them at freedom’s border
to check their lineage or
whether their documents showed
them coming from the right group—
you simply whispered, ‘come.’
and the no-names, the forgotten,
the hesitant with feet
worn by other journeys and
all longing to learn new songs,
as different from one another
as folks can be, but each daring
to journey into a promise
none of them could make
come true on their own.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

April 6th

“So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” Mark 16:8

if we could
we would push you back
into the tomb, repoint the stone
and seal it back into place.
but since
you have already proven
that will not work,
we’ll just put you into
that box marked ‘Easter’
along with the plastic eggs,
cute stuffed bunnies, and
some leftover chocolate
(if the pastor didn’t eat it all)
and store you in the back
of the closet, making a note
on our virtual calendar
to let you out next year,
if you promise to stop
scaring us with this nonsense
that death does not have
the final word.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Easter Sunday

“They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” John 20:13

we have taken you away
and made you the keynote speaker
for those who believe power
and wealth are the pillars
of your teachings, as well as
those who advocate for the needy
while buying another house
and increasing their portfolio.
we have taken you away
and hired you to be the
advocate for unjust wars
and the press secretary for
those who talk justice but
whose words turn to dust
when it is time to work
we have taken you away
as far as we can from
your simple gospel of love,
grace, justice, hope, and inclusion,
making it so complicated that
even experts cannot agree—
and all the while,
you are planting gardens
to feed the hungry,
calling the forgotten by name,
teaching children those games
where the only rule is everyone
gets to play on the same team,
and hoping we will eventually
notice where you are.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Dreich Saturday

“I have passed out of mind like one who is dead;
   I have become like a broken vessel.” Psalm 31:12

silence
is the only language needed
on this day which sits like a bird
on the fence between heartbreak
and hallelujah.
grief settles into our bones
like a friend moving in for a stay.
there are no stories to tell
no miracles to share on social media,
just the thick, silent, absence
which sucks at our souls like quicksand.
the promises seem to have slipped
through our fingers, like lyrics
to favorite songs we can’t recall.
hope has gone underground, perhaps
behind the stone, where we cannot see.
and yet, like the earth where
even now, unseen life is stirring,
may the silence be but a pause
and not an ending,
a waiting, but never forgetting,
because even in the stillness
God has not stopped working.

© 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman

Grim Friday

“But this I call to mind,
   and therefore I have hope:” Lamentations 3:21

we stand, not at the foot,
but as far away as we can
trusting your fading sight
cannot see us,
and yet you forgive us.
as the soldiers mock
the religious types cackle
and thunder rolls in the distance
and lightning provides the
only proper lighting,
we keep our mouths shut,
and yet you forgive us.
as you slowly lower your head
and are swaddled
in the chill arms of death,
may we hear the hope
you whisper in that moment:

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
is mercies never come to an end;” Lamentations 3:22

(c) 2026 Thom M. Shuman

Venmo: @Thom-Shuman