Word in the Hand

Did anyone ever ask Thomas? No one ever asked where I had been. When the women had brought the message of his Resurrection, I had followed after the others. Seeing Peter confused - as ever- and John struck dumb for once, I prayed with all my heart for it to be true. The women said we had to go back to the Galilee but Peter was still rooted in indecision. There was no sign of us leaving the stale darkness of the upper room. Their words felt like dream memories. Hopes of another world - we were stuck in this one. I couldn't bear it.  The others swore that they had seen the Lord, but where was the light? Where was his energy, his joy, his understanding? Where was he? If it was true then why weren't we going to Galilee? I had said that we should come to die with him. It feels as though I have. My only refuge is  the place where Mary had watched. Bundled into the low branches of the olive tree, wrapped still in the acrid scent of despair, I took the night watch on the ...

Gospel of Mark 1:14-20 After John had been arrested, Jesus went into Galilee. There he proclaimed the Good News from God. ‘The time has come’ he said ‘and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.’ As he was walking along by the Sea of Galilee he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net in the lake – for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you into fishers of men.’ And at once they left their nets and followed him. Going on a little further, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they too were in their boat, mending their nets. He called them at once and, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the men he employed, they went after him . Jesus follows his traces from the desert to find the spring rains have filled the Jordan to overflowing, birds and animals are gathered along her banks, dancing in territorial skirmishes and shrieking in mating rituals. The rhythm of w...

Another back story The shadows are  where you are safest. These long nights at the turning of the solstice are a boon to me. From the shadows of the inner wall I watched with measured breath as the soldiers set their weight to the city doors, silencing the rasping hum of the desert winds. I waited as one man flexed the muscles in his chest and biceps, a preening gladiator, whilst the other picked up the longspears and held one arms length, a javelin against the other's chest. Words were spoken, rumbling laughter, then they strolled off with the rolling gait of the weary, arms circling their helmets like baskets of bread or fruit. Guards with their guard down, for there was no-one left on the midnight streets of Bethlehem.  To that, even I would agree. It has occurred to me before now that 'No-one' is a very fitting name. The curse of a misbegotten body has refused my humanity. Beggar, homeless, unclean, it is all very much the same. No-one that matters.  And so I l...