Martyrdom of St. Thomas, by Peter Paul Rubens (public domain)
There is a man of famous doubt,
And Thomas was his name.
You think you know the truth about,
This rascal and his shame.
You mockers joke about his sin,
So I will tell you true.
He was the Master’s living twin,
And far more brave than you.
Mother Mary was a wise one,
The flower of our race.
But even she would greet her Son,
When Thomas showed his face.
Our Lord was fond of nicknames,
As Adam’s son should be.
And so he called him “Didymus,”
That’s Greek to you and me.
The twin was not one to pander,
And always spoke his heart.
When others thought to flatter,
The doubter took no part.
By deeds not words, he might have said,
This man, the Nazarene.
And when he learned his friend had died,
He left for Bethany.
“You must not go!” the others cried,
Your foes will seek your end.
But doubting Thomas then replied,
“Let’s go and die with him.”
But when one day they struck the King,
As foretold they scattered.
Reluctantly, I have to sing,
All of them were shattered.
The Prince of Peace was put to death,
His heart pierced by a spear.
And when he spoke his final breath,
The twin was nowhere near.
Shame can drive a man to rages,
An anger for an end.
We want to be courageous,
For weakness we must mend.
And so the doubter walked about,
And with his life made free.
And to the Romans gave a shout,
“Please nail me to a tree.”
So then the Lord came back to them,
The spirit was his breath.
While on the streets of Jerusalem,
Thomas sought after death.
And when at last he heard the news,
His pride would not give in.
His shame then fought to probe the wounds,
That truly lay within.
The Lord heard every word he said,
That reckless Didymus,
And then appeared with wounds still red,
Spoke, “Put me to the test.”
A weaker man just might have died,
When hearing such a sound.
But “My lord and my God” he cried,
And knelt upon the ground.
The Lord so quick forgave his twin,
All brothers he did bless.
And while Jesus soon ascended,
The saints began their quest.
For he left a great commandment,
To each and every one.
All of Adam’s descendants,
Must learn about God’s son.
Doubting Thomas took his mission,
And seeking for his own passion,
Took sail for India.
He preached the Word in that far land,
And many knew the Lord.
He prayed that all might understand,
No thought for his reward.
Thomas walked his Master’s path,
Until the kingdom come.
He soon did suffer the world’s wrath,
A bloody martyrdom.
I now end and seek your promise,
To give the man his due.
That you never slander Thomas,
This doubter died for you.
Note: This poem was inspired by Fabrice Hadjadj’s interesting interpretation of Thomas the Apostle in his book Resurrection: Experience Life in the Risen Christ, which I reviewed here.
Most of my poems are in free verse, and sound better to my ear, but I read a persuasive article that an aspiring poet should practice with formal modes to build their skills. So this is in the form of a ballad, which uses the traditional 8-6-8-6 syllables on each line of the quatrains. It feels clunky, and is pretty much my first draft. I don’t have much appetite for polishing and revising yet, but maybe I will come back to it at a later date.