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When He told us, "Love one another," I
imagined it much differently that night.
Yes, I declared my loyalty to Him---
to go to prison, or the cross, with Him
(and all the others sat there silently,
as I should have; I learned that all too soon).
But, really, I just never thought that it
would come to that, for Him.  I counted on
those twelve angelic legions He spoke of
when we were in Gethsemane---perhaps
to set Him free and then escort Him Home
to Heaven and His Father.  Henceforth we
would leave Jerusalem for Galilee
(and Judas to Judea would have been
alright with me).  We could have gone back to
our homes, eleven brethren, but more than
mere brothers; so much more than hayseeds' kin.
Eleven partners, several businesses;
and Matthew there to keep the books for us:
four of us fishing; and the others spoke
of farms, forges, and workshops.  We could work,
and teach, and heal the sick; Capernaum
would be headquarters.  In the evening light,
we would break bread, gather our neighbors near,
and tell them the adventures that we had
with Him.  That was what I imagined in
that upper room.  But subsequent events
proved my imagination wrong as it had been
so often (yes, when He stood on the Mount
with Moses and Elijah, I was wrong
again).  Thereafter, we had work enough,
and much to teach, and much sick folks to heal;
and to proclaim Him risen from the tomb.
I never went back to Capernaum:
Jerusalem a while, then Antioch,
Jerusalem again, then Babylon;
and then, as if not quite enough, to Rome
where multitudes have houses but no home.
Here, though as Philip wrote, we have no city,
still we have love, and courtesy, and pity:
the Kingdom's finest virtues.  Now I come,
outside the city gates, upon this slope,
a tired old man, but yet refreshed by hope.
Most of my friends are gone; Paul, yesterday;
John will be last of us, who once were twelve.
I would have liked to write to Philip's girls
about those early days in Galilee;
but Mark, or Luke, can do that well enough.
A cross to bear?  No, not my ministry;
it was a joy.  This beam upon my back?
Yes, I prefer it to a worldly crown.
Nails through my wrists and feet?  No agony
compared to my unworthiness to die
as He did.  So, please, when you crucify
me, would you place the cross piece upside down?

Starward

[jlc]