Thursday, 20 March 2008


No-one understands me:
Sometimes something forces me to do things,
to go against his teaching,
to act without love.
Afterwards I hate myself.
I'm not normal like the others.
I know I am an oddity,
and sometimes it's as though
I'm programmed to do bad things.
Even so, I never dreamt that I
could be so wicked, so full of sin, so evil
as to betray the only one who loved me,
the only one I loved: Jesus.

I was greedy for the money, of course.
I had always been poor
and I had never owned
thirty pieces of silver.
It seemed beautiful to me then,
that blood money.
But worse than the money was the kiss,
hideous, horrible hypocrisy!
How could he bear it so calmly,
looking at me with pity?

I hadn't given any thought
to what would happen.
I watched and listened steathily,
the horror grew
and I was powerless to stop it,
I who had set it all in motion.

When I saw him hanging there,
my Jesus, nailed to a cross
I cried to the Father,
'Let us change places.
Let him come down
and nail me there to die'.
But nothing happened.

I knew I was only fit for hell,
beyong forgiveness,
worth absolutely nothing.
It was time to end my useless life
my pitiful existence.
So I took a rope
and went to find a tree.

(taken from Lent (for the not-so-holy) by Anthea Dove, Columba Press, 2006)

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