Thursday, March 09, 2006
You Still Chose to Go
It was no clean thing, this,
no easy walk into that dark night
filled with memorable soundbites
and photo op moments,
soldiers in their dress uniforms
and dignitaries in their solemn regalia.
No clean thing, this,
filled with the sweat of pain
and the taste of blood,
the dust of the road,
the tears of grief,
the reality of betrayal,
the weight of sin.
No calm thing, this,
filled instead with noise:
the noise of mockery, bitter and undeserved,
punctuated with spittle and blows.
the noise of pain:
the slap of the flagellum against bare skin,
the sound of hammers driving spikes into wood
through human flesh,
cries ripped unbidden from the depths of the gut,
as flesh protested the hot sudden agony
that would not go away.
The noise of expediency: "Crucify him yourselves."
No easy walk this,
rushed through the crowded streets
beneath a crushing weight,
stripped of everything that matters most to man,
standing naked in the light of day
bruised and bloody and battered,
with nothing left to give
except the acceptance of pain,
except the final acts of love,
surrender
death.
Help me see, O Jesus,
beyond the pretty pictures
and soundbites
and images
of how God descended to death
in the dirty, miserable realness of it,
of man's willingness to be inhuman,
and you did this knowing how dark we can be,
and how unloving we can be,
and how we cling to the dark in spite of your light,
and you still chose to go.
Alleluia!
Susan E. Stone 2006
no easy walk into that dark night
filled with memorable soundbites
and photo op moments,
soldiers in their dress uniforms
and dignitaries in their solemn regalia.
No clean thing, this,
filled with the sweat of pain
and the taste of blood,
the dust of the road,
the tears of grief,
the reality of betrayal,
the weight of sin.
No calm thing, this,
filled instead with noise:
the noise of mockery, bitter and undeserved,
punctuated with spittle and blows.
the noise of pain:
the slap of the flagellum against bare skin,
the sound of hammers driving spikes into wood
through human flesh,
cries ripped unbidden from the depths of the gut,
as flesh protested the hot sudden agony
that would not go away.
The noise of expediency: "Crucify him yourselves."
No easy walk this,
rushed through the crowded streets
beneath a crushing weight,
stripped of everything that matters most to man,
standing naked in the light of day
bruised and bloody and battered,
with nothing left to give
except the acceptance of pain,
except the final acts of love,
surrender
death.
Help me see, O Jesus,
beyond the pretty pictures
and soundbites
and images
of how God descended to death
in the dirty, miserable realness of it,
of man's willingness to be inhuman,
and you did this knowing how dark we can be,
and how unloving we can be,
and how we cling to the dark in spite of your light,
and you still chose to go.
Alleluia!
Susan E. Stone 2006
Labels: Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
O Victim of Love
Tune:
http://www.contemplator.com/sea/sladies.html
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call.
O Jesus I watched in the Garden of Olives,
As you wrestled with grief so hard and so deep,
You cried out in anguish your yes to the Father,
You sweat tears of blood while your men were asleep.
Was any night darker than the night in the Garden
As you cried out and waited for what was to be?
And yet though you prayed in your grief and in anguish,
You stayed out of love and thus set us all free.
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call.
And when they came and took you on that last road,
And when they beat you and mocked you and lied,
Your love was a torch that shone out in the darkness
A beacon of hope as you suffered and died.
Beneath the cross where they thought they could kill you
You gave your best gift to the world full of sin,
The wellspring of heaven broke through in your last cry,
The waters of life through your death flooded in.
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call
Your yes has unlocked all the glories of Heaven,
Your yes has undone our first parent's no
In blood you have broken the shackles they wrought us
In death you have triumphed and defeated the foe.
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Tune:
http://www.contemplator.com/sea/sladies.html
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call.
O Jesus I watched in the Garden of Olives,
As you wrestled with grief so hard and so deep,
You cried out in anguish your yes to the Father,
You sweat tears of blood while your men were asleep.
Was any night darker than the night in the Garden
As you cried out and waited for what was to be?
And yet though you prayed in your grief and in anguish,
You stayed out of love and thus set us all free.
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call.
And when they came and took you on that last road,
And when they beat you and mocked you and lied,
Your love was a torch that shone out in the darkness
A beacon of hope as you suffered and died.
Beneath the cross where they thought they could kill you
You gave your best gift to the world full of sin,
The wellspring of heaven broke through in your last cry,
The waters of life through your death flooded in.
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call
Your yes has unlocked all the glories of Heaven,
Your yes has undone our first parent's no
In blood you have broken the shackles they wrought us
In death you have triumphed and defeated the foe.
O Victim of Love, sent here by the Father,
O Victim of Love, who chose to give all,
O Thou Saving Victim who purchased our freedom,
Who calls me to follow - may I answer your call.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: Passion of Christ
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Jesus O Lord
To the tune of Mist Covered Mountains:
http://ingeb.org/songs/chiminam.mid
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
How can I sing of what you mean to me,
Shepherd of love, who went out in search of me,
when I was lost, you picked up and cradled me,
And carried me off in your arms.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
How can I sing of what you have done for me,
Born poor and ignored in Bethlehem's streets for me,
Walked over the land, teaching always to rescue me,
Suffered and died for us all.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
There in the garden, you sweat drops of blood for me,
There at the post, you took many stripes for me,
You let them mock you, and bore all things patiently,
To bring us all safely home.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
You accepted the cross that you knew would set me free,
You bled your bright blood in sacrifice red for me,
You who were God went down unto death for me
Out of love for your own.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
There in your tomb you severed death's chains for me,
The stone rolled away with the brightness of hope for me,
The tomb was deserted for us as you set us free,
Proof there of Heaven's great love.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
http://ingeb.org/songs/chiminam.mid
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
How can I sing of what you mean to me,
Shepherd of love, who went out in search of me,
when I was lost, you picked up and cradled me,
And carried me off in your arms.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
How can I sing of what you have done for me,
Born poor and ignored in Bethlehem's streets for me,
Walked over the land, teaching always to rescue me,
Suffered and died for us all.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
There in the garden, you sweat drops of blood for me,
There at the post, you took many stripes for me,
You let them mock you, and bore all things patiently,
To bring us all safely home.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
You accepted the cross that you knew would set me free,
You bled your bright blood in sacrifice red for me,
You who were God went down unto death for me
Out of love for your own.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
There in your tomb you severed death's chains for me,
The stone rolled away with the brightness of hope for me,
The tomb was deserted for us as you set us free,
Proof there of Heaven's great love.
O Lord, Jesus the life of me,
O Lord, the comfort and peace of me,
O Lord, let my cry come to thee,
Jesus, O Lord, take me home.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: Jesus' Love, Need for God, Song
Sunday, March 05, 2006
In the Valley of the Shadow of Death
There in the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
Where God takes us to learn about who gives us breath
Each step that we take may seem heavy with threat
As we face then the truths we would rather forget.
It does not matter if we laugh or weep,
Be in pain or shock or fear or sleep,
Eternity hovers but a moment away
To walk with us into that unending day.
We think that so often we stand in the sun,
Yet through that dark valley our footsteps did run.
Someone was there one moment and not the next,
This frailty of mankind is an ancient text.
Yet Valley of the Shadow, when I'm in your way,
I chose not fear you by night or by day,
Ambush or pain or dark uncertainty
Shall not hide the gift of light by which I see.
My Shepherd he leads me by day and by night
Through the darkness of death to his glorious sight -
In his hand is the peace that makes no worldly sense
When the shadows of midnight grow dark and dense.
If trembling I wait there between death and life,
Doubled over in pain cutting hard like a knife,
He still is my comfort and lets my heart see
I am in his hands whatever will be.
Valley of the Shadow, you are but a gate,
Doorway to tomorrow, all humankind's fate.
My final hope lies beyond your shadowed door,
Where I will dwell in my Lord's house forever more.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Where God takes us to learn about who gives us breath
Each step that we take may seem heavy with threat
As we face then the truths we would rather forget.
It does not matter if we laugh or weep,
Be in pain or shock or fear or sleep,
Eternity hovers but a moment away
To walk with us into that unending day.
We think that so often we stand in the sun,
Yet through that dark valley our footsteps did run.
Someone was there one moment and not the next,
This frailty of mankind is an ancient text.
Yet Valley of the Shadow, when I'm in your way,
I chose not fear you by night or by day,
Ambush or pain or dark uncertainty
Shall not hide the gift of light by which I see.
My Shepherd he leads me by day and by night
Through the darkness of death to his glorious sight -
In his hand is the peace that makes no worldly sense
When the shadows of midnight grow dark and dense.
If trembling I wait there between death and life,
Doubled over in pain cutting hard like a knife,
He still is my comfort and lets my heart see
I am in his hands whatever will be.
Valley of the Shadow, you are but a gate,
Doorway to tomorrow, all humankind's fate.
My final hope lies beyond your shadowed door,
Where I will dwell in my Lord's house forever more.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: In the Valley of the Shadow, Praise and Thanksgiving, Trust
