A poem referencing the Gospel lectionary passage for this coming Sunday. John 20:19-31.
Running blind ‘round a corner,
Robber to a cop in hot pursuit,
Forehead meets half-opened door;
Pain, dizziness, trickle of blood.
Childhood memory is borne in the body,
Fibrous tissues heralding past pain,
Scar as locus of life’s hurt and healing.
Boyhood hands whittle a branch,
Releasing bark, sharpening to a point.
“Always away from you,” momentarily forgotten,
Jackknife jumps, slices skin, hits bone. Continue reading
Thomas is at the centre of things this morning.
His name is there in the text – plainly in black and white.
But who is this Thomas? Who is this one whose name appears so starkly in the text?
Perhaps he is not so clearly defined as we might like him to be. Even if we have his name in black and white, perhaps Thomas cannot be pinned down as THIS or THAT.
In general we like to pin people down. We like to define them. We like to be able to say it clearly and simply: he is THIS or she is THAT. So is it any surprise that we try to do the same with Thomas. Defining him clearly and precisely. Continue reading