Wednesday, September 26, 2012

abc/123 (Mark 9:42)

the numbered ones
            come in handy,
      when we are trying
            to decide
         who's in/who's out,
   who should we reach
        out to, using all
     sorts of demographics
          and stats, deciding
        whether or not the
               budget
      can fund that proposed
           ministry;

we've taken them
                  out
         to spell
I-M-M-I-G-R-A-N-T
   to make sure others
              know their
          place,
      or
D-0-C-T-R-I-N-E
             so no one
           can do well
    on the entrance exam,
             or
               C-L-O-S-E-D
       so our afternoon
     committee meetings
     won't be interrupted
         by folks searching
         for a friend
            (or you)

but you
reach into the
                toy box
      grabbing up all
   the blocks in your
            arms
and begin
        to build your
        kingdom
                 which
     is for
everyone.

(c) 2012 Thom M. Shuman
       

Thursday, September 20, 2012

another try (Mark 9:30-37

after reading
     the story to the little
          girl
   (for the 3rd time!),
              you tuck
      the covers under her chin,
  and watching her eyes
     turn into saucers
at the loud voices
from the living room,
                    you whisper gently,
   'don't be afraid; they just
    haven't figured it out
       the way you did.'

picking up the
                 toys
      as you walk
             down
   the hallway, you stop
      at the bedroom door
      which is cracked open
                 just enough
    to see the twin teens
        putting their just bought
        school clothes in the box
                      they marked
   'for kids who really need them'
                and
                    as they glance over,
          you give them a
                  double thumbs up,
     'you got it!'

ignoring the stares
                 of the adults
                 in the room, whose       
thoughts are ricocheting off
           one another,
   you wander over to the corner
        where the crib of the little
        fellow absorbed completely in
        his toes
             has been pushed out of the way,
    and picking him up, you toss
                  him,
          higher and higher in the air,
       and as the sparkle in his eyes
                        matches yours and
             his laughter is echoed by you,
   you glance at the others
                  and whisper,
      'you paying attention?'

(c) 2012  Thom M. Shuman

Thursday, September 13, 2012

say what? (Mark 8:27-38)

 at the end,
          just before the bell
                          rings,
     i bring my blue books
        (filled with
   observations from my favorite
            theologs;
   answers [copied almost word-for-word]
       from the 2 volumes
              Calvin wrote;
   quotations from all the
                    parables
          you gave over the length
          of the course [just to prove
                i was paying attention,
                though my eyes appeared
                           closed];
   minutes from all the judicatory
            meetings and committees
               i attended;
   copies of all the sermons
      where i managed to turn the
                           good news
          into gobbledygook)

up to your desk,
where you set them on top
              of all the others,
   and taking a match
   you set them all on fire,
                            as
       you tap me on the
            chest, asking,

'what's in here?'

(c) 2012 Thom M. Shuman


Thursday, September 06, 2012

body language (Mark 7:24-37)

we stand,
     our arms folded
               tightly
          across our chests,
   letting folks know
                      in no
             uncertain terms
        where they stand
        with us,
                then
     you accidentallyonpurpose
          bump into us, so
       we have to reach out to
                      them(!)
             for help;

putting our stone
                make-up
             on,
     we slowly turn our chairs
        away from the other,
   convinced no worthwhile
                     words
              will be spoken,
     until you thump us
     behind the ears, whispering,
         'pay attention;
         this is important!'

we stand at the desk,
       scanning the reservations
   (and ignoring the folded bills
              held out towards us),
      replying with ice-cold words,
   'i'm sorry, you have no
          reservation . . .'
                            and
     you come bustling out of
       the kitchen, trailing the
                       crumbs
             of dinner behind you,
   shouting,
      'my mistake!  everyone is
             welcome;
    set up more chairs around the
          table!'

(c) 2012 Thom M. Shuman