O Bread of Life - a Communion Hymn for Easter

Preparing for worship on Easter Day I was looking for a hymn to lead us into Communion and couldn't find the right one. So I decided to try and put into words what I was looking for, and this is what I wrote.

Do please let me know what you think, and do feel free to use it if you wish. I simply ask that you acknowledge the source.

O Bread of Life, our hands are lying open

To share these tokens of your boundless love;

Your life-blood spilled; your body torn and broken:

The gift of life for us from heaven above.

O Word of Life, our ears are waiting, open

To hear your message spoken to our heart:

The great Good News of death’s dominion broken;

Of lives set free; of joy in every part.

Spirit of Life, our hearts are yearning, open

To feel the flame of love burning within.

Come, fill us now, renewing lives once broken:

The risen life of Christ in us begin.

© 2012 John L Simms

Tune: Intercessor [11.10.11.10]

What else could I have done? 6

Part 6 - Jospeh

It was a travesty: I shall have to say something at the next Council meeting, and I know that Nicodemus will back me up. There was no way in the world that Jesus had a fair trial, and dragging us out of our beds at that time of morning… unheard of!

Some of the things he said really rang home to me, you know. All his talk of the Kingdom of God, it seemed to be…well, right, you know. I checked some of it out with the prophets’ writings, and there was definitely something there. Nicodemus told me that he’d had a chat with Jesus one night – well, he didn’t want the others to know; even then they were a little suspicious of him. Jesus had said something about being ‘born again’, which Nic hadn’t really grasped. But the more I think about it, the more I think ‘wouldn’t it be great to be able to start over again, wipe the slate clean’, you know.

Anyway, I felt that the least I could do after the way we’d treated him was to give him a decent burial – after all, he’d not had a decent death. I’d met Pilate once before at a civic function, so it was easy to go to him and ask for the body. He seemed quite surprised that Jesus was dead already, but his centurion assured him that he was – he’d stuck a spear in his side to make sure, he said.

So I wrapped him up, and placed him in a tomb I’d bought not long ago. I had planned to use it myself, but I figured this was as good a use as any for it… but what else could I have done?

 (c) John Simms 2010

What else could I have done? 5

Part 5 - The Women

It was horrible; I couldn’t watch really. We’ve been with him for the last 3 years, looking after him and his friends, making sure that they had at least one square meal. Well, they used to sit up till all hours, talking and laughing; and sometimes they’d go off and not be back for days. I remember once he went off with Peter, James & John – they were always the closest, at least then – and they came back with all sorts of stories about Moses & Elijah! Men, eh?!

When we came to Jerusalem last weekend it was great; everyone in the party mood, with it being Passover and everything. To be honest I was glad someone else was sorting out the dinner this year. But when we’d finished everything went horribly wrong, and before we knew where we were Jesus had been arrested and condemned to death. We tried to get the crowd on our side, but the priests had whipped up the mob for Barabbas, and no-one listens to women these days, whatever we try to say.

Needless to say the men all ran away – all except John that is. It was quite moving really, Jesus asked him to look after Mary – it must’ve taken all the strength he could muster just to breathe, never mind speak, but he managed.

We’ve decided to go and visit the grave on Sunday morning – we can’t go tomorrow with it being Sabbath. Just to sit and remember, and maybe put some spices in the tomb. But we just felt we had to be here today, though, in his final hours… But what else could we have done?

(c) John Simms 2010

What else could I have done? 4

Part 4 - The Penitent Thief

Blimey! He was right… well I think he was, ‘cos this sure looks like Paradise to me…

What a day it’s been. We were out last night, Jim & me, doing a bit of thieving… unfortunately there were a lot of guards about last night; they were bringing in another guy and caught us sneaking out of Cohen’s pawnbrokers – would you believe it?!

Well, it was a quick trial – didn’t want us hanging around over the holiday weekend (no pun intended, by the way) – so they scheduled us for execution that morning. And what do you know: they put us with the guy they were bringing in last night. Jesus his name was. And you’ll never guess what he was up for – ‘King of the Jews’ it said. To be honest I thought I’d seen him before, then I remembered: it was last Sunday, we were mingling with the crowd, relieving people of their heavy loads – well, heavy purses – and he came riding through the crowd on a donkey. We laughed at the time, but everyone else seemed quite excited. Who’d’ve thought, eh?

I’ll say one thing for the Romans, they’re efficient. They’d got us stripped off, nailed down and strung up before you could say Pontius Pilate. I’ve never known such pain. But the weird thing was that this Jesus doesn’t scream; he prays, and he prays that God would forgive them for crucifying him.

Well Jim’s hanging there, cursing all the gods he can think of and then some, and folk are coming past and having a go at us, but particularly at Jesus. And he just hangs there and takes it. Then Jim has a go at him, but I think, no, he don’t deserve this, and I tell Jim that. Then I think, ‘what the heck’ and I asks Jesus to remember me when he comes as King. I don’t know why – it just seemed as if it was my last hope… But what else could I have done?

(c) John Simms 2010

What else could I have done? 3

Part 3 - Pilate

Look, to be perfectly honest with you, the sooner I get back to Rome the better. The noise and the smell of all these people travelling in for… what is it they call it?... Passover, that’s it, I tell you, it’s more than a man can take. And as for the wife… hardly any decent shops, and now she’s started having nightmares. I can’t think who I must’ve upset to end up in this gods-forsaken backwater.

So, this morning the crowd from the Temple brought in this chap – looked a bit of a mess to be honest – and accused him of subversion and sedition, claiming to be a king. When I found out he was a northerner, well, I sent him to Herod, who looks after that neck of the woods, but he got bored with him and sent him back. (Laughs) They’d dressed him up in a robe, so he looked a little more like a king.

Well, it was obviously a put-up job – I couldn’t find a scrap of evidence to convict him and sentence him to death, so I suggested as a compromise that we give him a good sound thrashing and let him go. But they were having none of it, and asked me to release some bandit called Barabbas instead of this Jesus. Well if I’m honest I’d rather have a crazy preacher loose than a mass murderer, so I suggested again that I release Jesus but they’re still having none of it, and things started to turn a bit ugly.

Well to be honest I was starting to get one of my heads and the last thing I wanted was a full-scale riot on my hands. So I washed my hands of the whole affair and let them do what they wanted with this Jesus… But what else could I have done?

(c) John Simms 2010

What else could I have done? 2

Part 2 - Peter

No, it’s OK, I’m all right now. No, it’s been one hell of a night. We’d had a great time together, good food, a bit of wine, bit of banter… well you know what blokes are like when they’re together – ‘I’m a better disciple than you’ ‘I’d go to prison for you: I’d even die for you’. Was that just the wine talking? Then Jesus said some stuff about his body & blood, and bread & wine which I didn’t really get to be honest, then He turns on me and says I’d betray him.

Anyway, Jesus seemed to think things might get a little hairy, so we ‘tooled up’ – big ‘ard men you see – and went to Mount Olive; get some air, clear our heads, and Jesus said he wanted to pray. Have to admit the wine was kicking in by then, and to be honest we all fell asleep.

Then that rat Judas turns up with Temple guards in tow, and leads them straight to him. There’s a bit of a ruck, and I might’ve caused a bit of damage to one of them – but he seemed OK afterwards, so that’s alright. Then they led him away, and the others scarpered: but I couldn’t leave Him, so I followed.

Someone’d lit a fire in the courtyard, so I sat down for a warm. Then this young lass starts blurting out “He was with him – I seen him on Sunday with the donkey”. ‘Don’t know what you mean’ I said. Then another: “Yeah, I recognise him” ‘You’re talking nonsense’ I said. Then this southern boy comes up and says “You gotta be wiv ‘im, your accent gives you away”. Well I stood up, looked him in the eye, and said ‘I dunt knaw what tha’s talkin’ ‘bart!’

Then it happened: they were leading Him across the yard, just as I was talking, and he looked at me, and the cock crowed… and I remembered what he’d said… But what else could I have done?

(c) John Simms 2010

What else could I have done? 1

Last Good Friday I shared a series of brief meditations as part of our Good Friday Service. To be honest I'd forgotten about them, but some one in one of the churches I serve mentioned them the other day. They follow the Passion narrative in Luke, and try to give some thought to how the supporting cast in this drama may have been feeling as those tragic yet wonderful events unfolded.

So, here's part 1 - Judas.

Look, things didn’t work out quite as I’d hoped, I have to say. From the look on Simon’s face I’m not going to be welcome back in the group again: I’ve never seen him so angry – and that’s not nice to see when he’s got a dirty great sword in his hand. Poor Malchus: though you’d hardly know he lost that ear now to look at him.

I just felt that someone had to do something. After the way the crowd greeted us last Sunday, I just thought ‘this is it! The revolution starts here: an end to Roman tyranny!’ But instead of leading us to the Fortress Antonia, Jesus went to the Temple, and started causing a riot there. I thought ‘this isn’t how it’s supposed to be; this isn’t what I expected at all’.

So I decided I had to try and force his hand. Box him into a corner, so that he’d come out fighting. That’s why I went to the High Priest… Oh the others will say I only did it for the money: they think I’ve had my fingers in the till for years now, that that’s all I’m interested in. But I only want what’s best – for everyone.

He knew I was going to do it, you know… he said so last night while we were eating. I don’t think any of the others saw me slip out – too busy arguing among themselves who was the best, the most loyal: well, they all ran away when he was taken: not one of them stayed.

I feel dreadful, I really do. They’ve taken him to the High Priest: God knows what’ll happen to him now… But what else could I have done?

(c) John Simms 2010