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Sunday, April 01, 2012

Palm Sunday Poem

Jesus Anointed at Bethany 

Mark 14

1 Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. 2 “But not during the festival,” they said, “or the people may riot.”  While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? 5 It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly. “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 7 The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me.  She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. 9 Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” Then Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Jesus to them.  They were delighted to hear this and promised to give him money. So he watched for an opportunity to hand him over.

I have always been a huge fan of the scripture above.  One of my hopes in a service would be to recreate this scene (all you women with long hair should call for auditions!).  It's left out in several of the filmed passion stories.  Good news is that our pastor shared this verse in his message this morning.  It reminded me of some poetry I'd written awhile back based on these verses as well as my own experience as a daughter of the King of Kings!   Happy Easter 2012, Jennifer

If..if...if... I were a princess
I'd ride upon a horse beside the King
I'd tell Him all about my day
The hours working, the times of play
His tender smile lights our way
The King and I...the King and I...The King and I

Sunshine's warmth upon our backs
A soft breeze blows the trees
As we ride over pastures green
Fast and slow along the stream
We're off again
The King and I...the King and I...The King and I

And so I'll lift my voice up high
To fill the air with sound
I'll tell of my great love for Him
I'll always pour it out

My worries He can counsel
My enemies He knows
The battle sword may be drawn
To fight, to shield, to warn

Oh, the King and I...the King and I...The King and I

This story's not forgotten
When the King and the Princess meet
Days before He'd see the cross
Their friendship forged, her hair so tossed
No counting costs of what might be lost
As she wiped down His feet

Only the King deserves the oil
A scent now lingering
Perfumed to show the majesty
Of Jesus Christ the King

The Princess forfiets dignity
Because she loves entirely
To be together eternally
He wipes her slate clean

To tell of her love and His love
And her love, Is our love
And His love
Is our love


Jane Heitman Healy said...

This is beautiful. Thank you, Jennifer!

Jennifer Noble said...

Thank you & your welcome!