Friday, February 16, 2007
At Passover Time
Friday morning in spring, full moon time,
Was the weather mild or cool that day
While the judge sat there, contemplating a crime
As the crowd swelled the city, making their way
At Passover time?
Did the whisper pass from ear to ear
That morning about the trial,
While those in the know crowded in to hear
What others said with a certain bile
At Passover time?
How big was the crowd in the courtyard that day?
An unexpected spectacle to prove their worth
As Abraham's sons, their cries for death part of the way
To give a new covenant a birth
At Passover time.
How frail you must have seemed when he presented you
Bloody and beaten, crowned with thorn
to the angry crowd with their cries and their hue,
Looking not like a king, but a person to mourn
At Passover time.
As the sentence was passed and the verdict he gave,
They led you away to die by cross and by nail
A new passage of blood on life's lintel to save
By your sacrifice there as the women did wail
At Passover time.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Was the weather mild or cool that day
While the judge sat there, contemplating a crime
As the crowd swelled the city, making their way
At Passover time?
Did the whisper pass from ear to ear
That morning about the trial,
While those in the know crowded in to hear
What others said with a certain bile
At Passover time?
How big was the crowd in the courtyard that day?
An unexpected spectacle to prove their worth
As Abraham's sons, their cries for death part of the way
To give a new covenant a birth
At Passover time.
How frail you must have seemed when he presented you
Bloody and beaten, crowned with thorn
to the angry crowd with their cries and their hue,
Looking not like a king, but a person to mourn
At Passover time.
As the sentence was passed and the verdict he gave,
They led you away to die by cross and by nail
A new passage of blood on life's lintel to save
By your sacrifice there as the women did wail
At Passover time.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: Friday Meditations, Passion of Christ
Friday, January 19, 2007
One Friday
That Friday morning the city saw a sight,
Swollen with the crowd,
Chattering and loud,
Witness to a miracle of light,
An amazing thing they would not understand.
That Friday as an angry group cried out,
Yelling in the streets
As the hard whips beats
His back for them even while they shout,
Offering his all into the Father's hand.
The bored and angry soldiers marched along,
Dragging three three to die
Crossbeams held up high
Followed by a sad and angry throng
Stopping only when he falls onto the sand.
They reached the place of death by city gate
A place for all to see
The dying infamy.
Those coming for the feast arriving late,
Had to pass the noisy execution band.
An amazing thing was wrought for all to see,
Although they did not know
There as his blood did flow
A new sacrifice was made to set men free,
A gift of love to heal the heart's demand.
Lord bring me back in mind to see that day
When burdened by man's sin,
You died to let us in
Into the light of heaven's golden way,
Love's triumph that the dark could not withstand.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Swollen with the crowd,
Chattering and loud,
Witness to a miracle of light,
An amazing thing they would not understand.
That Friday as an angry group cried out,
Yelling in the streets
As the hard whips beats
His back for them even while they shout,
Offering his all into the Father's hand.
The bored and angry soldiers marched along,
Dragging three three to die
Crossbeams held up high
Followed by a sad and angry throng
Stopping only when he falls onto the sand.
They reached the place of death by city gate
A place for all to see
The dying infamy.
Those coming for the feast arriving late,
Had to pass the noisy execution band.
An amazing thing was wrought for all to see,
Although they did not know
There as his blood did flow
A new sacrifice was made to set men free,
A gift of love to heal the heart's demand.
Lord bring me back in mind to see that day
When burdened by man's sin,
You died to let us in
Into the light of heaven's golden way,
Love's triumph that the dark could not withstand.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: Friday Meditations, Passion of Christ
Friday, August 13, 2004
Friday Morning
Friday morning in spring,
was the weather mild
or cool that day
as the passover crowds milled through the street,
in festive mood?
Did the whisper pass
from ear to ear that morning
about the trial,
letting the crowd gather at the courtyard
to witness another passover,
a spectacle unexpected, perhaps,
but which would shout through the centuries.
How frail you must have seemed
when he presented you
to the leaders
to the gathering group,
beaten, bloody,
so far removed from the prophet-king
of last Sunday,
no hosannas this time,
just calls for your blood.
Some merely curious,
some angry,
some caught up in the emotion of the moment,
calling out,
watching,
waiting
as the sentence was passed
and they led you away to be slaughtered,
the pascal lamb,
where your blood would be smeared on the lintel,
your arms stretched out to heaven
to set us free.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
was the weather mild
or cool that day
as the passover crowds milled through the street,
in festive mood?
Did the whisper pass
from ear to ear that morning
about the trial,
letting the crowd gather at the courtyard
to witness another passover,
a spectacle unexpected, perhaps,
but which would shout through the centuries.
How frail you must have seemed
when he presented you
to the leaders
to the gathering group,
beaten, bloody,
so far removed from the prophet-king
of last Sunday,
no hosannas this time,
just calls for your blood.
Some merely curious,
some angry,
some caught up in the emotion of the moment,
calling out,
watching,
waiting
as the sentence was passed
and they led you away to be slaughtered,
the pascal lamb,
where your blood would be smeared on the lintel,
your arms stretched out to heaven
to set us free.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations, Passion of Christ
Friday, July 23, 2004
Friday
It's Friday, Lord,
another day to remember
that Friday long ago,
just another day,
a day marked with sadness,
blood,
loss,
like so many days on this sad earth,
where it seems cruelty rules supreme,
and man's inhumanity to man,
the pain and grief caused
by malice,
indifference,
sin
shouts to heaven.
Just another day,
when heaven cried out
with love
its response
and the world was changed.
O Emmanuel,
God With Us,
Thank You.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
It's Friday, Lord,
another day to remember
that Friday long ago,
just another day,
a day marked with sadness,
blood,
loss,
like so many days on this sad earth,
where it seems cruelty rules supreme,
and man's inhumanity to man,
the pain and grief caused
by malice,
indifference,
sin
shouts to heaven.
Just another day,
when heaven cried out
with love
its response
and the world was changed.
O Emmanuel,
God With Us,
Thank You.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations
Friday, May 21, 2004
Friday Evening Meditation
There are moments like this, Lord,
where all I seem to have to offer
is pain,
fear,
grief,
acceptance of your way
and faith in your word.
and then I remember your mother,
what she offered up
that friday so long ago,
and how she felt
led away by friends
into the darkening night,
and I realize
that although they seems small,
or useless,
or trite,
how precious these offerings
of how pained we are,
but how willingly we trust
are in the hands
of a God who chose to feel all those things
for love.
Teach me to love like you, Lord,
and give my yes as willingly as your mother,
this day and always,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
There are moments like this, Lord,
where all I seem to have to offer
is pain,
fear,
grief,
acceptance of your way
and faith in your word.
and then I remember your mother,
what she offered up
that friday so long ago,
and how she felt
led away by friends
into the darkening night,
and I realize
that although they seems small,
or useless,
or trite,
how precious these offerings
of how pained we are,
but how willingly we trust
are in the hands
of a God who chose to feel all those things
for love.
Teach me to love like you, Lord,
and give my yes as willingly as your mother,
this day and always,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations
Friday, April 30, 2004
Friday Morning Meditation
It is Friday, my Lord,
and once again,
bring my thoughts to that sad Friday
we call good,
for it brought the salvation of the world
in blood
and pain,
and grief
and love.
It is Friday, my Lord.
Renew in me
the gratitude I have
for what you chose to do that day,
for the love you shared
the blood you shed,
the pain,
the death,
for this poor, sad, marred world.
It is Friday, my Lord,
Help me to reach out
as you reached out,
with love
where there is hatred,
with hope
where there is despair,
with the light of God
where there is darkness.
Today, tomorrow, and always,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
It is Friday, my Lord,
and once again,
bring my thoughts to that sad Friday
we call good,
for it brought the salvation of the world
in blood
and pain,
and grief
and love.
It is Friday, my Lord.
Renew in me
the gratitude I have
for what you chose to do that day,
for the love you shared
the blood you shed,
the pain,
the death,
for this poor, sad, marred world.
It is Friday, my Lord,
Help me to reach out
as you reached out,
with love
where there is hatred,
with hope
where there is despair,
with the light of God
where there is darkness.
Today, tomorrow, and always,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations
Friday, March 05, 2004
Good Friday Night
O Blessed Mother,
O Lady of Sorrows,
How dark that night must have been,
when they led you home
from Golgotha and the tomb.
Did you find yourself
staring numbly
into the dark,
seeing the sad day's moments
playing over and over
in your mind,
as the quiet tears
trickled down your cheeks?
Did they gather together,
one by one,
the scattered disciples,
afraid of each noise
yet not knowing where to go,
except towards you,
all they had left
of their master?
Did they come to hold you in your grief,
or come to be mothered?
Susan E. Stone, 2004
O Blessed Mother,
O Lady of Sorrows,
How dark that night must have been,
when they led you home
from Golgotha and the tomb.
Did you find yourself
staring numbly
into the dark,
seeing the sad day's moments
playing over and over
in your mind,
as the quiet tears
trickled down your cheeks?
Did they gather together,
one by one,
the scattered disciples,
afraid of each noise
yet not knowing where to go,
except towards you,
all they had left
of their master?
Did they come to hold you in your grief,
or come to be mothered?
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations
Friday, February 27, 2004
On the Road to Jerusalem One Friday in Spring
Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
Those coming into the city
may have wondered about the small group
on the hill,
wondered idly about who was being executed
so close to the sabbath,
and at the feast-time, too.
Perhaps they shuddered at the thought
of such a shameful death
coming to them or theirs.
Perhaps they felt pity
that anyone would die that way.
Perhaps they stopped a moment to taunt.
Did they notice
a knot of women
standing close,
oblivious to the soldiers,
or to the mockers,
lost in their grief,
waiting?
Did they notice
how the sky darkened,
as if even the heavens
longed to weep?
Susan Stone, 2004
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
Those coming into the city
may have wondered about the small group
on the hill,
wondered idly about who was being executed
so close to the sabbath,
and at the feast-time, too.
Perhaps they shuddered at the thought
of such a shameful death
coming to them or theirs.
Perhaps they felt pity
that anyone would die that way.
Perhaps they stopped a moment to taunt.
Did they notice
a knot of women
standing close,
oblivious to the soldiers,
or to the mockers,
lost in their grief,
waiting?
Did they notice
how the sky darkened,
as if even the heavens
longed to weep?
Susan Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations, Passion of Christ
Friday, January 16, 2004
Friday Morning Meditation
It is Friday, Lord.
On this day,
remind me of that Friday so long ago,
when you, presented to the people
beaten,
bloody,
shown off as a scandal
instead of a healer.
As you stood and watched the crowd
screaming for your blood,
you did not call heaven's fire
down upon their heads,
but gave them what they asked for,
your very blood
to wash all our souls clean.
Instead of wrath,
love.
Instead of retribution,
salvation.
Teach me,
unkind and unworthy as I am,
to walk in your steps,
this day,
tomorrow and forever,
that I might shed
some of that love
wherever you ask it.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
It is Friday, Lord.
On this day,
remind me of that Friday so long ago,
when you, presented to the people
beaten,
bloody,
shown off as a scandal
instead of a healer.
As you stood and watched the crowd
screaming for your blood,
you did not call heaven's fire
down upon their heads,
but gave them what they asked for,
your very blood
to wash all our souls clean.
Instead of wrath,
love.
Instead of retribution,
salvation.
Teach me,
unkind and unworthy as I am,
to walk in your steps,
this day,
tomorrow and forever,
that I might shed
some of that love
wherever you ask it.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: Friday Meditations, Passion of Christ
Friday, October 10, 2003
Friday Morning Meditation
On this Friday morning, my Lord,
let me remember that sad Friday morning so long ago,
when Pilate presented you to the gathered mob,
bloody,
battered,
beaten,
a mockery of a king
crowned with thorns
meant to look small,
crushed,
contained.
Yet no mortal man could contain
the love that looked out over the crowd,
the love that heard the cries of hate,
and still forgave,
the love that waited patiently
as the executioners gathered
and sentence was passed,
the love that chose
this very path
to bring us life.
May I never forget
the gift you gave us
that sad Friday so long ago.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
On this Friday morning, my Lord,
let me remember that sad Friday morning so long ago,
when Pilate presented you to the gathered mob,
bloody,
battered,
beaten,
a mockery of a king
crowned with thorns
meant to look small,
crushed,
contained.
Yet no mortal man could contain
the love that looked out over the crowd,
the love that heard the cries of hate,
and still forgave,
the love that waited patiently
as the executioners gathered
and sentence was passed,
the love that chose
this very path
to bring us life.
May I never forget
the gift you gave us
that sad Friday so long ago.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
Labels: Friday Meditations, Passion of Christ
