When Jesus came to Bethlehem there was no harsh a day,
they say a census had been called, there was no place to stay;
this baby who would shake the world, would first lay down his head,
not in a royal house or hall, but in a manger bed.
When Jesus went to Nazareth his father had a trade,
a carpenter now had a son and business plans were laid;
but soon within the temple courts, this lad would have his way,
dissenting from his parents' wish, they'd looked for him all day.
The path that he set out to tread from Jordan's crowded bank
would take him him through a wilderness with neither power nor rank;
returning he would scourge the ones and verbally deride
a viper's brood, these hypocrites, who dressed themselves in pride.
Returning to Jerusalem, but not in regal dress,
he's seated on a donkey's back, not here to rule or bless;
the temple tables were upturned, but more disturbing still,
his challenge to authority would cause the air to chill.
That chill was in Gethsemane when he knelt down to pray,
and all the pain of all the world seared through him on that day;
the time of crisis had arrived to turn from what was right,
or walk with soldiers on to what now looked like endless night.
The trial came and ones that he had scourged with words scourged him,
and this was brutal vengeance now, not wondrous, simply grim:
his flesh was ripped, his sinews torn, his body hung to dry,
and as the darkness gathered round the whole world seemed to sigh.
That ragged child that Mary bore was taken from the tree,
the women waited through three days, covertly went to see:
they found the tomb was empty now, the one they sought had gone,
and as they raced in fear away, the mystery lingered on.
Yet through two thousand years and more the influence of that man
has rippled down through history from where it first began;
his spirit stills inspires a faith that trusts to what is right,
to seek for truth, to live in love, keep justice burning bright.
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 2015 © Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk .
Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns.
All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: 14 14 14 14
Tune: THE LINCOLNSHIRE POACHER
Written at the request of the Rev’d Dr John Parry
Category: Bible
Palm Sunday hymn – No royal robes
No royal robes, but donkey riding
1 No royal robes, but donkey riding,
the Christ, our King, had come to town,
Jerusalem came out to meet him.
Would gold or thorns compose a crown?
2 The people spread their palms before him,
they wondered what this day would bring:
as Jesus, humble, riding quietly
brought contrast to the praise they'd sing.
3 The ones who'd shared these years had answers,
but even they could get it wrong.
So many tensions, tangled, threaded
brought notes of discord to their song.
4 But soon the world would be confounded,
the tables turned, the structures torn,
till only those fired by God's spirit
could meet this crisis, be reborn.
5 And if within imagination
we walked within that crowd today,
would we withstand the world's derision,
to stay with Christ, or turn away?
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 2012 © Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: 9 8 9 8
Tune: ST CLEMENT
A laser like tongue – A hymn inspired by Jesus baptism which might be used as a dramatic reading
A laser like tongue – A hymn inspired by Jesus baptism which might be used as a dramatic reading.
A laser like tongue used when speaking God's word,
an arc-light to shine through the crass or absurd.
The prophet had spoken of just such a voice,
embodied in John who would offer God's choice.
A preacher from Galilee joined in the crowd,
not hidden, John pointed and called him out loud.
The lamb, God's anointed, Messiah had come,
the Spirit confirming that this was God's son.
The world and God's people spun round by this man
discovered that grace had a limitless span;
and this, while offending the pious, the priest,
brought joy to the ones once regarded as least.
Some soon caught the essence, the crisis, the power,
the challenge of Jesus to twist or devour
their present conceptions, their life-long deceit,
to turn them, re-focus, and make them complete.
And so those around heard both challenge and choice,
the sense of authority rang through his voice.
The call to leave everything seemed so absurd
and yet they responded to Jesus's word.
That word is still rippling, extending through space,
it reaches through time and it tells of God's grace;
it sharpens perception, it rings in each ear,
the spirit is moving, the Kingdom is near.
Andrew Pratt (born 1948) based on Isaiah 49 vs 1-7; Mark 1: 9 – 15; John 1 vs 29-42
© Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: 11 11 11 11
Tune: PADERBORN (Paderborn Gesangbuch 1765) Perhaps this text could be read dramatically rather than sung?
Once transfiguration blinded – a hymn
Some of you will remember the hymn, ‘Stay, Master, stay upon this heavenly hill’.
As the disciples want to continue in the purer air of the mountaintop, to stay eternally, Jesus
rebukes them:
No, saith the Lord, the hour is past, we go;
Our home, our life, our duties lie below.
While here we kneel upon the mount of prayer,
The plough lies waiting in the furrow there.
And the disciples respond:
There we must do it, serve him, seek him still.
The following hymn continues this theme of being lost in such wonder that we forget the needs that
we are called to meet:
Once transfiguration blinded
1 Once transfiguration blinded
those who climbed to follow Christ,
seeing through a mist of glory,
just a glimpse at once sufficed;
just a glimpse of holy heaven,
earth and heaven neatly spliced.
2 Light can blind us to the sorrow,
to the pain of poverty,
light of holy exaltation,
or the light of being free:
free of fear of want or hunger
resting in complicity.
3 Lost in thunder, bathed in wonder,
hands uplifted should we praise,
while, in destitution, neighbours,
wait for weeks, not merely days,
for the crumbs dropped from a table
that austerity displays.
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 2018 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any
reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use
requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: 8 7 8 7 8 7
Tune: WESTMINSTER ABBEY (Purcell)
A hymn in a shattering, divided world…perhaps?
Reflecting on the world in which we live, what can we, should we sing?
Hymns should at least allow for the expression of everything to which the Psalms give voice. And I am including those words over which we tend to be rather squeamish. This interpretation of Psalm 137 was attributed to John Donne but was probably written by Francis Davison (circa 1633-69):
Happy, who, thy tender barnes
From the armes
Of their wailing mothers tearing,
'Gainst the walls shall dash their bones,
Ruthless stones
With their braines and blood besmearing.
[Donne, J., The Poems of John Donne, Edit. H.J.C. Grierson, Oxford 1912, p426].
And why should I want to sing this or anything even distantly emotionally related to it? Because sometimes that is how I feel and the Psalms testify to the fact that God can cope with us feeling like that.
Not finding such a hymn in my own denomination’s hymn book at the turn of the millennium, and reflecting on the plight of refugees, I wrote these words. And are they, perhaps, redolent of those of opposing opinions, experiencing hatred and fear, in our world, in our countries today?
1 When anger is our highest creed,
revenge the motivating force;
God, understand our depth of hurt,
our need for action, not just thought.
2 Ejected from what makes us safe,
familiar ground and well-known names,
we sicken for the things we've seen,
all sense of hope and courage drains.
3 We cannot celebrate our faith,
and faith lacks meaning, all is lost;
for nothing is as it once was,
we cannot ever bear the cost.
4 So, God, what should we do or say?
What is there left of love or life?
What mitigating cause or plea
will rid us of this pain of strife?
5 Amid our sense of grief and loss
where nothing now can be the same,
stand in the midst of shattered faith;
rebuild, renew, and raise again.
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 2001 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: LM
Tunes: PLAISTOW; KEDRON(Dare)
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