Palm Sunday

Hold on to the Hosannas

Let’s stay with the Hosannas for a while.

Let’s let them keep on ringing in our ears.

Hosanna!

Blessed is He who comes

in the name of the Lord.

Instead of rushing on to hear the cries

that came later in the week

let’s stay with the Hosannas.

Maybe once we’ve heard those

in a new way

will we be ready

to make the rest of the journey:

a journey that was hastened

and given new purpose

by those Hosannas.

For those Hosannas were not

simply the innocent cries

of palm branch waving children,

those Hosannas were the

war cries of adults,

tired of the oppression

of occupying forces.

Those hosannas

were the hopeful cries

of a nation seeking liberation.

Those Hosannas

were an investment of hope

in one they thought would deliver.

Those Hosannas

that we have sanitised over the years

rang out in clear insurrection,

sealing the fate

of one who rode on a donkey.

So, let’s stay with the Hosannas.

Let’s wrest them from the lips of children

and allow them to ring in our ears

and spew from our mouths

as a call to action,

a call to justice,

a call to love.

Let’s stay with the Hosannas

even as we journey

with the Christ

who carried those Hosannas

all the way to the cross

and ensured their fulfillment

as the justice and love of God.

Let’s stay with the Hosannas.

Costa del Roseness

This is a poem that is sometimes used at

funerals and is readily available online.

The author is unknown.

The SpiderA spider spun a silken thread

And swung from grass to ground

“I must find out the news”, he said

“That’s buzzing all around.”

The garden creatures great and small

Were quiet as a mouse,

They saw the caterpillar crawl

Into a tiny house.

“He’s such a fool,” said the ladybird

As she polished up her nails.

“It’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,”

Said a pair of solemn snails.

So all the creatures went away

All thinking she was dead

Until one bright and lovely day

A little earthworm said.

“I see a crack in the little shell

And something moves inside

I see a head and wings as well

Come quick and see,” she cried.

“The caterpillar’s back,” they said,

Before their very eyes

A butterfly stepped out

And smiled at their surprise.

“I left the life you thought I knew,

You thought that I was dead.

I did it just to show to you

We die to grow,” she said.

Mothers Day

When God created mothers

When the good Lord was creating mothers, he was into his sixth day of overtime, when an angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the spec on this one? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have 180 moveable parts, all replaceable;run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that disappears when she stands up, a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair, and six pair of hands.
"The angel shook her head slowly and said,"Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord."It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, "What are you kids doing in there?" when she already knows. Another here, in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't, but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, "I understand and I love you," without so much as uttering a word."
"Lord,"said the angel, touching his sleeve gently, "Rest for now. Tomorrow..."
"I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower.
"The angel circled the model of the mother very slowly."She's too soft," she sighed.
"But tough!" said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what the mother can do or endure."
"Can she think?"
"Not only think, but she can reason and compromise,"said the Creator. Finally the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.
"There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you, you were trying to put too much into this model."
"It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."
"What's it for?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride."
"You're a genius," said the angel. The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there."

Erma Bombeck

 

 

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild

Gentle, meek, mild, insipid.
What kind of Saviour is that?
Wishy-washy, ineffective.
Not someone we’d respect.
So why is it shocking to discover
that Jesus is a man of passion,
seized with righteous anger,
wielding a whip,
driving out those
who drive out others,
and make God’s house exclusive?
Why should we be surprised
that Jesus doesn’t just speak out
but takes action to ensure
that all people, everywhere
have access to the love of God?
And that, following this feisty man
means that we too
must be people of action.