It was on the Thursday
that he became valuable.

He hadn’t anything to sell…
not since leaving his hammer and saw
three years earlier.
Needless to say,
he could build a set of trestles
or hang a couple of shelves
at the drop of a hat,
no bother at all.

But he wasn’t into making things.
Not now.

He was into…
well…talking, I suppose.
And listening
and healing
and forgiving
and encouraging…
all the things for which there’s no pay
and the job center has no advertisements.

So his work wasn’t worth much.
Nor, indeed, was he.
For, not being well-dressed
or well-heeled, or well-connected,
he wouldn’t have attracted many ticket holders
had he been put up for raffle.
But he had a novelty value…
like the elephant man, or the fat lady,
or the midget at the circus.
Put him on a stage,
and he might be interesting to look at.
Sell him to the circus
with the promise of some tricks,
and there could be some money in it.

It was on the Thursday
that he became valuable.

For Holy Week, I’m sharing a series of poems that come from Stages on the Way, a book of worship resources for the Easter season prepared by the Iona Community, a Christian ecumenical community headquartered in Scotland and devoted to peace and social justice.