Here’s a hymn the congregation can sing, based on the old chestnut of a choir anthem, “The Palms,” by Jean-Baptiste Faure. The language has been updated in a couple of places. Your organist/pianist can use the anthem as the accompaniment, but be sure it’s the one in A-flat rather than C, which would likely be too high. Click on the image above to print it @ 8.5x11, which you can then copy on both sides and cut down the middle for a half-page insert.
Ex nihilo
It's not experience he needs;
No lack of expertise impedes
The course he takes,
Which shows he aches
To love the world in word and deed.
Take Mary as example one;
The woman who would bear the son—
A girl unknown,
A virgin womb
Who magnified what God had done.
And those disciples whom he chose!
Inexpertly they spoke—or dozed;
Though novices,
They still were his;
Their emptiness showed where grace grows.
The donkey that he asked to ride
No rider ever was astride;
He rode the thing,
They called him King ;
His call decides what's bona fide.
And soon a tomb as yet unused
Will bear the body crushed and bruised,
So he might rise
And show all eyes
Ex nihilo Love is infused.
Scott L. Barton
+ + +
No Ending, Period
The little donkey demonstrated
How Jesus lived; but that sure grated
The nerves of certain Pharisees who
Were worried people might live up to
The loud acclaim they gave the rider
Whose way's our sole (and soul's) provider—
Provided that we're brave for shouting
God's mighty deeds, despite our doubting,
And show by dying in ways myriad,
That love will have no ending, period.
Scott L. Barton
+ + +
The Very Stones
One of my first funerals, in my first pastorate,
Was for a young man barely out of high school;
One blistering July day, he died
Working in the hay mow of the neighbor farmer.
Survived by his parents and five siblings,
An older brother had died years earlier,
Hit by a car while on his bicycle near home.
The church was packed, of course,
And somehow, we muddled through.
Then we went to the cemetery:
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Trusting your love and mercy,
In the sure and certain hope
Of the resurrection to eternal life.
When we were all done, the father,
Standing just an arm's length away,
Reached into his pocket,
Pulled out a pebble,
And handed it to me.
I still cry when I think about it,
Over forty years later.
For the previous Palm Sunday,
At the end of the sermon on this text,
I had handed out pebbles
To everyone in the congregation,
Scrounged from the manse's driveway,
And then, pretty much forgot about it,
At least until that day in July,
When a grieving father taught me
That you never know when, or how, or by whom,
The Word of God will be proclaimed.
Scott L. Barton
After he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’” So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord needs it.” Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”
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