funny how they stick
across time, through history
amusing or cruel, justified or not
simply a given, no choice, **** it up
Judas the Betrayer, Doubting Thomas
true I wasn't there at that first meeting
him shiny and new, risen from the dead
they had their chance to see, to touch
know the truth of it for themselves
we'd all seen him dead and buried
they'd needed to be sure he's alive
why should it be different for me
yet asking earned the nickname
they'd have had their questions
just the same if they'd missed
but that moniker stuck fast
it's how you remember me
those many centuries later
doubter, not certainty seeker
yet that was not my story's end
not once I'd got my head straight
no sir, places to go, people to tell
"go", he said, "into all the world"
so I did, took him at his word
travelled all the way to India
telling folk about Jesus, his
life, death AND resurrection
not letting up till the day I died
Doubting Thomas they call me
let facts speak for themselves
discover who he made me
go beyond the nickname
if you tell my story


Second Sunday of Easter
27th April 2025
following John 20.19-35

begun, a roman funeral
tale of two cities, very different
one commerce, politics, tourism
carryies on with its usual energy
another surrounding St Peter's
the square, basilica, vatican
concentrating on preparations
ceremonies for handling a death
crowds forming, quiet and not so
police and officials keeping order
presence needed yet not required
tented Croce Rossa clinics arrive
media sets up shaping stories to tell
techies fixing screens and speakers
for those gathering too many to see
overwhelming in inevitable bustle, yet
quietening hush, sensed anticipation
thin place of the spirit approaches
something almost tangible
the time to say farewell
normale

who will be remembered
surrounded by cardinals, drama
caught up in the liturgy of the church
one to whom the doors of power opened
who politicians, world leaders attend
some from respect, others for duty
and those who seek a holy veneer
to cover shabby politics, evil even
will they remember him
maybe

who will the people recall
for whose soul do they pray
just one such as themselves
humble, gentle, generous, kind
or trying to be, most of the time
priest of the barrios, the favelas
spending his last days in blessings
children, poor, prisoners, migrants
praying for peace, calling for hope
amidst all the world's conflicts
so many exploitations, wars
using nearly his last breaths
yet who'd ask us to pray, not for
the leader of the Catholic Church
Pope Francis, Il Papa, His Holiness
heir to the keys, the throne of St Peter
but pray for the soul of Jorge, a sinner
whom with love we commend
to the mercy of God
normale


Saturday of Easter Week
26th April 2025
Rome

seven days
seven weeks, seven years
no  time would have sufficed
to prepare for what came next
dead then alive, that was hard enough
you know the story, know how it ends
we were living it one day at a time
one new impossible after another
because then he says "go"
"go into all the world
make disciples of all nations
baptise them in my name
God who is Father, Son and Spirit"
what can prepare you for that
where to start, how to begin
well that's another story
today that word is enough
to wrestle with, focus on
'go'

Saturday of Easter Week
26th April 2025
following Matthew 28.16-20

bound by iron
long beyond dead
amphitheatre visited
by graffiti artists and
night-time drunks
Tasso's oak remains
that hillside sentinel
overlooking his beloved
Roma, city of his dreams
where beneath lost leaves
he pondered poems, epics
an imagination once living
which long since penned
verses of love and war
that sometimes escape
the page to live again
while on that *****
beneath dead wood
trapped by iron's bond
quercus sapling grows
a new oak for Tasso


25th April 2025
Roma

shame
etched deep in my soul
they all blame the betrayer
named him such through history
but he was honest in his betrayal
faced him, marked him with a kiss
eye to eye the deed was done
but me, for all my bold bluster
I'd run away, denied I knew him
not once, not twice, three times
my friend, three years followed
called him Messiah, the Christ
Jesus, denied I even knew him
so which betrayal is greater
I know my shame

after it was over
death, strange days following
Marys first, then meeting him alive
trying to work my head around it all
back to Galilee where it all began
trying to get a handle, fishing
breakfast on the beach
we know it's him
I know

eating done
a long awkward silence
which he breaks, "do you love me"
he asks, looks me in the eye, asks me
"you know I love you" muttered head down
silence you could cut, then "do you love me"
irritated, angry even, "you know I love you"
longer pause, waves lapping, fire crackles
"do you love me", not brotherly love now
but agape, self-giving love, his kind
"do you love me", thrice denied
now three times he's asked
my shame biting deep
"you know everything
you know I love you"
no condemnation instead
each time a commissioning
"feed my lambs", "take care of my sheep"
"feed my sheep", a shepherd's task and work
for me, forgiveness going beyond my shame
time to start over, whatever that means


Friday of Easter Week
25th April 2025
following John 21.15-19

go fishing, he suggested
night fishing of all things
I hate fishing, always have
could never see its attraction
but it's like a default reset for him
don't know what to do, go fishing
stuck for what to think, go fishing
Peter's 'run home to mama' mode
still we needed to get out of town
time and space to think, to decide
work out what on earth we do next
night fishing was good for that
at least we thought it would be
but the thinking and the talking
went no better than the fishing
round and round in circles
not a single bite, not a fish
no ideas about what next either
just lots of 'what ifs', nothing else
no fish and too much hot air

so there we were, out on the lake
sore, stiff, talked out, frustrated
still no fish and dawn approaching
a flame flared on the beach
someone lighting a fire
we could see him moving around
silhouetted against the flames
then a voice calling over the water
we can't have been far off shore
"try the other side"
should have heard Peter chunter
"who does he think he is
'try the other other side'
been a fisherman all my life
'try the other other side'"
but then something clicked
could almost see cogs turning
suddenly Peter's hauling nets
calling to Andrew for help
throwing them over the other side
the boat takes a lurch
tips over, lines taut, net full, fish
Peter shouting "get them landed"
leaping over the side
splashing fast for the shore
and the clock's spinning back
like some kind of time machine
that other catch, that other beach
we know who he is, the voice
the man calling across the water
calling us to breakfast, and ....


Thursday of Easter Week
24th April 2025
following John 21.1-14

it had been a bad week
seemed as if he wanted trouble
saying what he said, doing as he did
he knew how to push all their buttons
challenging their authority, their rules
putting them on the spot, no evasions
never backing off despite their anger
it was no surprise he was arrested
mock trial, ******* up charges
guilty verdict, a cross and death
we'd tagged him as the Messiah
but now he's dead, buried, gone
well there was some crazy story
the Marys said they'd seen him alive
but who'd believe that, as I said, crazy

that's what we told him
when he fell in step along the way
travelling with us to Emmaus
listened to all we'd had to say
then started unpicking our story
for everything we'd mentioned
had an explanation, gave a reason
why it had to happen that way
what was really going on
how it fitted into God's plan
explained it from the scriptures
like he was giving us a lesson
Jesus 1.01, the real story

near Emmaus it started getting dark
he was going on but we'd a room, food
so we invited him in, things may change
but hospitality's still usual, our norm
as a guest, we asked for his blessing
so he blessed and broke the bread
did the same for the wine, shared it
and suddenly we recognised him
as if our grief had made us blind
how could we have missed it
like that last supper once again
it was Jesus, and he is alive
chance meeting, no chance

couldn't leave it there
hot-footed it back to Jerusalem
had to tell the others, the disciples
said our piece in the upper room
but it was all a bit redundant
we'd no sooner told our tale
than he turned up there too
living, breathing, wonderfully alive
yet despite all that he'd said
its hard not to have questions
all kinds of puzzlements
and whose going to answer them


Wednesday of Easter Week
23rd April 2025
following Luke 24.13-35