When I am mowing grass between
the growing Christmas trees,
I often see the red-winged bird
perched high observing me.
If I turn the loud mower off
I’ll hear his scolding cry
a Konk-la-ree, a Konk-la-ree,
and then away he’ll fly.
Is he critiquing how I mow?:
Hey you there! Watch-that-tree!
No, there’s a female nesting near,
Come-to-me, Come-to-me…
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 6, 2015
Readers unfamiliar with Christian scripture will find it helpful to learn that the original Gospel of Mark ended abruptly and curiously, not the way one would expect good news to end. Upon discovering the stone rolled away from the tomb and the tomb empty, Mark ends not with triumphal joy but with fear. “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for fear and amazement had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” Here’s Steve’s verse for Easter:
The Short Ending of Mark
Most scholars think that first came Mark,
then Matthew, or perhaps St. Luke,
but Mark is shortest of the three
and it takes work for brevity.
The empty tomb is found in Mark,
but in the first draft of the book
no resurrected Christ appears–
his followers are left in fear.
The Gospels four all tell the tale
of thousands fed by miracle,
but only Mark will tell it twice–
this Jesus is the Bread of Life.
Young Mark assumes from Chapter One
that Jesus is the Son of God
the Christ-Messiah, Holy One.
His faith was fed by wine and bread.
Mark must believe that doubts and fears
can turn to trust when he appears.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 5, 2015
It’s not often we follow up of Steve’s poems. But today’s post (“Verse – Indiana”) on Indiana’s Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) merits further comment on Holy Saturday.
some so-called Christians change the
Golden Rule:
“Do unto others what hate did to you.”
Steve and I are both Presbyterian ministers. We’re Protestants. We’re not proud of it; it’s just who we are. At this point in his life, Steve restricts his social commentary to poems and verses.
Here are the earlier stanzas of of “Indiana” that succinctly set the Indiana religious Freedom Restoration Act in its ironic historical context:
To America came the Protestants.
In England they could not live
as they would.
They were despised by ruling residents
and fled to freely worship their own God.Conservatives want to preserve the past,
forgetting which side they were on…
They now
discriminate against those who resist
and say, “To your beliefs we will not bow.”
Tomorrow Steve will celebrate Easter in Illinois. I will celebrate Easter in Minnesota. The symbol of the stone rolled away will be front and center. There can be no hate at the empty tomb. Governor Pence and legislators, pay close attention. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” It’s hard to believe they didn’t know what they were doing, but in the sense in which the prayer from the cross was uttered, they really didn’t know`1.
To America came the Protestants.
In England they could not live
as they would.
They were despised by ruling residents
and fled to freely worship their own God.
Conservatives want to preserve the past,
forgetting which side they were on…
They now
discriminate against those who resist
and say, “To your beliefs we will not bow.”
Instead of helping people to be free
to live and love as God made them to be,
some so-called Christians change the
Golden Rule:
“Do unto others what hate did to you.”
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, April 4, 2015
The Pastor asks for those in need
of prayer–
she wants their names. She writes that Bill
will go
for surgery next week. And Ann
retire
at last from waitressing–what will
she do?
In prayer, the Pastor lists each name,
each need.
She celebrates our joys, lists our
concerns–
not that the One who hears has to
be made
aware, but we require the
reminders
of what we are to do: care for
the sick,
go visit lonely folks, give food
and clothes.
Then lobby Congress for new laws
that make
the ninety-nine percent receive
from those
who have it made, a chance, at least
a share
of hope from those who never seem
to care.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 30, 2015
They all have color,
those in charge.
We are colorless,
pasty, pale, and weak,
vulnerable to the sun,
and visible most nights.
We cannot hide.
Those who are gold
or bronze or ebony
or mixed know they are smarter.
They go where they will.
From the best schools,
they have the top jobs.
They call us Chalks.
They all speak the World Language.
We jabber in Frenglish, Scandy,
Grussian, or Balkan.
We squat in the abandoned cities
while they hum around
in their shade-seekers.
Cancers kill us.
There are tales the Three P’s
once were ours: Power,
Privilege, and the Police.
Now we have one…Poverty.
They tell us what to do.
We submit or are Injected.
Freedom is a dream.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 21, 2015
She cleans the floor.
(I clean the ceiling.)
She washes dishes.
(I clean my plate.)
She cooks.
(I report fascinating
stories from the paper.)
I mow the grass.
(She plays in the flower beds.)
I haul the garbage bin to the street.
(She shops.)
I feed the dog.
(Her cat wakes us up
and terrorizes my dog.)
We get along quite well.
(Her list might be different.)
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL
Steve’s contribution today is on a well-known, often memorized verse of Christian Scripture.
John could have said God loved only
the Hebrews, or, like him, those who
were followers of Jesus. He,
instead, said, God loves not the few,
but the whole world–how can it be?*
(*This insight comes from the Rev. Jim Montgomery, Decatur, Illinois, who is in no way responsible for any errors in this poem.)
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 17, 2015
Steve flies kites all night when the weather is just right. Last night the kite was poetry in motion over the Illinois prairie. Photo by Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 16, 2015.
Visual poetry
Some reasons are easily told
Why I am always so bold
To speak out the loudest,
To simply be proudest,
And all the attention to hold:
For I am the oldest of four
And no one can come through the door
Who’s nearly as great
Since I’m six foot eight!
However, I must tell you more…
I know that pride is the worst sin.
It besets me day out and day in.
But how can I fight it,
Or try to deny it:
I’m tall, dark, and handsome–and thin!
But most think one eighth of a ton
Is NOT slim, and that I’ve begun
To prevaricate,
And exaggerate,
And really I’m tall, bald, and dumb…
Okay, I admit that I’m fat.
My head is too big for my hat.
I apologize
for all but my size–
My parents at birth gave me that.
[5 limericks for Lent]
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 14, 2015
The Shoemaker brothers
Views from the Edge 