Cryptically labyrinthine:
A much needed haven from the hell of the
world,
For the trio at this point in time.
Their march was unto sanity as if from
insanity.
This special group for the Lord’s
workshop,
Needed a retreat to retreat from
fishing,
To a more profitable fishing vocation.
For a quieter Saturday city than ours.
Than ours!
So, where is Peter
And where is James,
And where is John?
I can understand a bout of smallpox or
chickenpox or cowpox
That can take one to a hide-out hospital
Beyond the knowledge of friends
Beyond the knowledge of the king
Beyond the knowledge even of one’s spouse
Where is Peter?
Peter went on sabbatical
To attend a short course on fishing:
Soon enough he should be able to use
fishing boats,
Or become a fishing professor in a
fishing college.
I don’t mean for fishing mobile phones
He will not take a PhD in fishing, no.
He is aware that the fishing business is
into billions per year,
And he is going for that…
But will he last there?
Where is James?
He went to plan a coup.
No longer keen on sitting beside God
It is okay if he already has power here:
Power to command as Grand Commander of
the Armed Forces;
Power to shout like thunder, the voice
of God;
Power to kick people around like football;
And power to sleep through international
conferences.
Jesus left a wrong notion of power:
Look at him parading in hell displaying
power,
And yet his men are looking for power
That is neither in heaven nor in hell.
Rather than feed the hungry,
He is talking to demons.
Rather than heal the sick,
He is taking a lost and found key from
the underworld.
But why should James not go for
elections?
At least he died for his faith.
Oh Mother
of God,
Pray
for us sinners
that we may honour our democracy,
And stand in elections when the people
want us,
And resign from our posts when we become
redundant,
Pray
for us sinners, now and the hour of our demise.
now and the hour of our downfall
now and the hour of our termination
now and the hour of our recreation
But we died before now a long time ago:
Remember the loss of the railway track;
Remember the Green Revolution that took
place in hotels;
Remember the many coups d’état;
Remember the farce of the ABC on
our character;
Remember, remember, and remember!
Oh Mother of God,
Pray for us sinners,
Now and the hour of our new death.
Where is John?
He went in to master writing:
He wrote about everything
Including love,
Including warnings about hell,
And real kingdom matters.
He became a real journalist,
Preaching louder than John the Baptist
his former master.
He so mastered the call of journalism
That Journalists after him, instead of
Pastors,
Have their heads displayed on some
platter
On King Herod’s birthday.
Including love—
Love
that a Pastor got wrong when he eloped with his catechist’s wife
Love
that a sportsman got wrong when he took performance enhancing drugs
And warnings about hell—
Hell that is
misunderstood in daily conversations
Hell that is not
known at the fireside
And real Kingdom matters—
Not
the kingdoms created by Bishops
Not
the Kingdom of empire builders
We should join the fasting squad,
On today
Today being Holy Saturday,
A day unto the Lord!
