St. Dismas

 

St. Dismas

I think of you as the prince carried home, lord, lion
With a thorn mane riding on the thumbs
Of hunters in the black air smiling,
So hungry. You’re bleeding. I need to believe in
So I believe in your blood, the long down-rivers of your waist.
Listen, is this how fathers love?
I hear your chest try to escape its ruined field,
I hear how your cheek lolls in the dark
Of your neck. Forgive parts the dry lips, lord,
Can we all live in that murmur, the slight press of tooth
To tongue. Do we speak to them, down there? Spit and split
The moonlight. Your mother’s hands float on our feet like water.
I want that you remember me when you get there,
Take me through the shock, roped by biceps,
Already part way up the sky.
Who dies first. Who dies in the lanternlight swinging.
I begin to love you deep
In the valve your father pinned
In my heart

-- Eve Jones, poet, photographer, and professor at Lindenwood University (MFA UMSL), from Dappled Things journal

39One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" 40But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." 42Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." 43He replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."-- Luke 23:39-43

Scripture Reference: Luke 22:14-23:56 (The Passion Narrative), Palm/Passion Sunday, Good Friday; Reign of Christ C Proper 29C

Image: Remember Me, Barbara de Reus Kamma, New Guinean/Dutch, chamois leather and scrap wood, story can be found here at artway.eu.

Taize: "Jesus, Remember Me..."

Palm Sunday

And He answered and said unto them, I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out. St. Luke xix. 40.

YE whose hearts are beating high 

With the pulse of Poesy,
Heirs of more than royal race,
Fram’d by Heaven’s peculiar grace,
God’s own work to do on earth,
(If the word be not too bold,)
Giving virtue a new birth,
And a life that ne’er grows old—

Sovereign masters of all hearts!
Know ye, who hath set your parts?
He who gave you breath to sing,
By whose strength ye sweep the string,
He hath chosen you, to lead
His Hosannas here below;—
Mount, and claim your glorious meed;
Linger not with sin and woe.

But if ye should hold your peace,
Deem not that the song would cease—
Angels round his glory-throne,
Stars, His guiding hand that own,
Flowers, that grow beneath our feet,
Stones in earth’s dark womb that rest,
High and low in choir shall meet,
Ere His Name shall be unblest.

Lord, by every minstrel tongue
Be thy praise so duly sung,
That thine angels’ harps may ne’er
Fail to find fit echoing here:
We the while, of meaner birth,
Who in that divinest spell
Dare not hope to join on earth,
Give us grace to listen well.

But should thankless silence seal
Lips, that might half Heaven reveal,
Should bards in idol-hymns profane
The sacred soul-enthralling strain,
(As in this bad world below
Nobles things find vilest using,)
Then, thy power and mercy shew,
In vile things noble breath infusing;

Then waken into sound divine
The very pavement of thy shrine,
Till we, like Heaven’s star-sprinkled floor,
Faintly give back what we adore.
Childlike though the voices be,
And untunable the parts,
Thou wilt own the minstrelsy,
If it flow from childlike hearts.


--John Keble (1792-1866), English Anglican priest and poet, one of the leaders of the Oxford movement, from The Christian Year.

He Bore Our Griefs

No, it was not the Jews who crucified,
Nor who betrayed You in judgment place,
Nor who, Lord Jesus, spat into Your face,
Nor who with buffets struck You as You died.
No, it was not the soldiers fisted bold
Who lifted up the hammer and nail,
Or raised the cursed cross on Calvary’s hill,
Or, gambling, tossed the dice to win Your robe.
I am the one, O Lord, who brought You there,
I am the heavy cross You had to bear,
I am the rope that bound You to the tree,
The whip, the nail, the hammer, and the spear,
The blood-stained crown of thorns You had to wear:
It was my sin, alas, it was for me.


--Jacobus Revius (1586-1658) Dutch theologian and poet, translated ny Dr. Henrietta ten Harmsel

Image: Christ Before Pilate, Mihaly Munkhacsy, 1881

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.


-- G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936), English critic, novelist, poet, and convert to Roman Catholicism

Scripture Reference: Matthew 21:1-11, Palm Sunday, Lent A

Hymn to Christ the Lord

I.

Bridle of colts untamed,
Over our wills presiding;
Wing of unwandering birds,
Our flight securely guiding.
Rudder of youth unbending,
Firm against adverse shock;
Shepherd, with wisdom tending
Lambs of the royal flock:
Thy simple children bring
In one, that they may sing
In solemn lays
Their hymns of praise
With guileless lips to Christ their King.

II.

King of saints, almighty Word
Of the Father highest Lord;
Wisdom’s head and chief;
Assuagement of all grief;
Lord of all time and space,
Jesus, Saviour of our race;
Shepherd, who dost us keep;
Husbandman, who tillest,
Bit to restrain us, Rudder
To guide us as Thou williest;
Of the all-holy flock celestial wing;
Fisher of men, whom Thou to life dost bring;
From evil sea of sin,
And from the billowy strife,
Gathering pure fishes in
Caught with sweet bait of life:
Lead us, Shepherd of the sheep,
Reason-gifted, holy One;
King of youths, whom Thou dost keep,
So that they pollution shun:
Steps of Christ, celestial Way;
Word eternal, Age unending;
Life that never can decay;
Fount of mercy, virtue-sending;
Life august of those who raise
Unto God their hymn of praise,
Jesus Christ!

III.

Nourished by the milk of heaven,
To our tender palates given;
Milk of wisdom from the breast
Of that bride of grace exprest;
By a dewy spirit filled
From fair Reason’s breast distilled;
Let us sucklings join to raise
With pure lips our hymns of praise
As our grateful offering,
Clean and pure, to Christ our King.
Let us, with hearts undefiled,
Celebrate the mighty Child.
We, Christ-born, the choir of peace;
We, the people of His love,
Let us sing, nor ever cease,
To the God of peace above.

-- Clement of Alexandria (150-@215 CE), Greek teacher, philosopher, theologian, and Father of the Church

Scripture Reference: Matthew 21:1-11, Palm Sunday, Lent A

Image: Jesus's Entry Into Jerusalem, fresco, Dionysiou Monastery Mt. Athos

Script: The Passion Narrative from Luke, adapted

Script: The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ

According to Luke 22:14-23:56

(The Congregation may be seated for the first part of the Passion. At the verse, which mentions the arrival at Golgotha, all stand.)

Narrator: When the hour came, he took his place at the table, and the apostles with him. He said to them,

Jesus: I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.

Narrator: Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he said,

Jesus: Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.

Narrator: Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying,

Jesus: This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.

Narrator: And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying,

Jesus: This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table. For the Son of Man is going as it has been determined, but woe to that one by whom he is betrayed!

Narrator: Then they began to ask one another which one of them it could be who would do this.
     A dispute also arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest. But he said to them,

Jesus: The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.
     You are those who have stood by me in my trials; and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and you will sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
     Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.’

Peter: Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!’

Jesus: I tell you, Peter, the cock will not crow this day, until you have denied three times that you know me.
     When I sent you out without a purse, bag, or sandals, did you lack anything?’

Congregation: No, not a thing.

Jesus: ‘But now, the one who has a purse must take it, and likewise a bag. And the one who has no sword must sell his cloak and buy one. For I tell you, this scripture must be fulfilled in me, “And he was counted among the lawless;” and indeed what is written about me is being fulfilled.

Congregation: Lord, look, here are two swords.

Jesus: It is enough.

Narrator: Jesus came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him. When he reached the place, he said to them,

Jesus: Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.

Narrator: Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed,

Jesus: Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.

Narrator: Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief, and he said to them,

Jesus: Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.

Narrator: While he was still speaking, suddenly a crowd came, and the one called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He approached Jesus to kiss him; but Jesus said to him,

Jesus: Judas, is it with a kiss that you are betraying the Son of Man?

Narrator: When those who were around him saw what was coming, they asked,

Congregation: Lord, should we strike with the sword?

Narrator: Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said,

Jesus: No more of this!

Narrator: And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the leaders of the people, the officers of the police, and the elders who had come for him,

Jesus: Have you come out with swords and clubs as if I were a bandit? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.

Narrator: Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house. But Peter was following at a distance. When they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat among them. Then a servant-girl, seeing him in the firelight, stared at him and said,

Servant Girl: This man also was with him.

Narrator: But Peter denied it, saying

Peter: Woman, I do not know him.

Narrator: A little later someone else, on seeing him, said,

Bystander 1: You also are one of them.

Narrator: But Peter said,

Peter: Man, I am NOT!

Narrator: Then about an hour later yet another kept insisting,

Bystander 2: Surely this man also was with him; for he is a Galilean.

Narrator: But Peter said,

Peter: Man, I do not know what you are talking about!

Narrator: At that moment, while he was still speaking, the cock crowed. The Lord turned and looked at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, ‘Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.
     Now the men who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him,

Congregation: Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?

Narrator: They kept heaping many other insults on him.
     When day came, the assembly of the elders of the people gathered together, and they brought him to their council. They said,

Congregation: If you are the Messiah, tell us.

Narrator: Jesus replied,

Jesus: If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I question you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the power of God.

Narrator: All of them asked,

Congregation: Are you, then, the Son of God?

Narrator: Jesus said to them,

Jesus: You say that I am.

Narrator: Then they said,

Congregation: What further testimony do we need? We have heard it ourselves from his own lips!

Narrator: Then the assembly rose as a body and brought Jesus before Pilate. They began to accuse him, saying,

Congregation: We found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king.

Narrator: Then Pilate asked him,

Pilate: Are you the king of the Jews?

Narrator: Jesus answered,

Jesus: You say so.

Narrator: Then Pilate said to the leaders and the crowds,

Pilate: I find no basis for an accusation against this man.

Narrator: But they were insistent and said,

Congregation: He stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place.

Narrator: When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. And when he learned that he was under Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him off to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had been wanting to see him for a long time, because he had heard about him and was hoping to see him perform some sign. He questioned him at some length, but Jesus gave him no answer. The leaders of the people stood by, vehemently accusing him. Even Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him; then he put an elegant robe on him, and sent him back to Pilate. That same day Herod and Pilate became friends with each other; before this they had been enemies.
     Pilate then called together the religious authorities, the leaders, and the people, and said to them,

Pilate: You brought me this man as one who was perverting the people; and here I have examined him in your presence and have not found this man guilty of any of your charges against him. Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us. Indeed, he has done nothing to deserve death. I will therefore have him flogged and release him.

Narrator: Then the people all shouted out together,

Congregation: Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!

Narrator: (This was a man who had been put in prison for an insurrection that had taken place in the city, and for murder.) Pilate, wanting to release Jesus, addressed them again; but they kept shouting,

Congregation: Crucify, crucify him!

Narrator: A third time he said to them,

Pilate: Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no ground for the sentence of death; I will therefore have him flogged and then release him.’

Narrator: But the people kept urgently demanding with loud shouts that he should be crucified; and their voices prevailed. So Pilate gave his verdict that their demand should be granted. He released the man they asked for, the one who had been put in prison for insurrection and murder, and he handed Jesus over as they wished.
     As they led him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming from the country, and they laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus. A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him. But Jesus turned to them and said,

Jesus: Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For the days are surely coming when they will say, “Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.” Then they will begin to say to the mountains, “Fall on us;” and to the hills, “Cover us.” For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?’

Narrator: Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him.

The congregation will stand as able.

Narrator: When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said,

Jesus: Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.

Narrator: And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying,

Congregation: He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, God’s chosen one!

Narrator: The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying,

Congregation: If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!

Narrator: There was also an inscription over him, ‘This is the King of the Jews.’
     One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying,

Unrepentant Criminal: Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’

Narrator: But the other rebuked him, saying,

Repentant Criminal: Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.’
     ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’

Narrator: Jesus replied,

Jesus: Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’

Narrator: It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said,

Jesus: Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.

Narrator: Having said this, he breathed his last.

Silence is observed.

Narrator: When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said,

Centurion: Certainly this man was innocent.

Narrator: And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts. But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.
     Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments.

On the sabbath they rested according to the commandment.

STAGING NOTES

In light of appearances of ant-Judaism in the Passion texts, reference to Jews changed to "the people;" references to religious authorities in most cases changed to "leaders of the people" or "elders" or "the council."
 

Parts assigned to the Congregation based on the idea that we are all disciples, and at the same time we are all those who place Jesus on the cross.

Roles to Fulfill/ Grouping
(Minimum 8 voices; Maximum 11)

Narrator
Jesus
Peter
Servant Girl
Bystander 1
Bystander 2
Pilate
Unrepentant Criminal
Repentant Criminal
Centurion
Congregation (Disciples/Soldiers/Elders/Assembly/Crowds)

Possible to group-- Servant Girl with Unrepentant Criminal; Bystander 1 with Repentant Criminal; Bystander 2 with Centurion

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

-- G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936), English writer, philosopher, Catholic convert, and theologian.

Palm Sunday

Now to the gate of my Jerusalem,
The seething holy city of my heart,
The saviour comes. But will I welcome him?
Oh crowds of easy feelings make a start;
They raise their hands, get caught up in the singing,
And think the battle won. Too soon they’ll find
The challenge, the reversal he is bringing
Changes their tune. I know what lies behind
The surface flourish that so quickly fades;
Self-interest, and fearful guardedness,
The hardness of the heart, its barricades,
And at the core, the dreadful emptiness
Of a perverted temple. Jesus come

Break my resistance and make me your home.

-- Malcolm Guite (1957- ), Anglican priest, poet, musician, teacher, and songwriter.

The Poet Thinks About the Donkey

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited,
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned into the meadow,
     leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
     clatter away, splashed with sunlight!

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen,
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

--Mary Oliver (1935-2019), American poet, teacher, and author, from Thirst: Poems, 2006.



Photo: detail from a window at St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, Ferguson, MO, by Emil Frei and Sons.