And now for something completely different...

Normally I use this blog to show (off) my creative side through playing with paper. But I am also sometimes creative with words. And this week there is far more word writing and service collating than there is card making or scrapbooking so I thought I would share with you some reflections that I have written to use in Holy Week services. I'm putting next to the words just as a reminder to those who may want to use them that I wrote them. If anyone does, feel free!


the garden of Gethsemene

Waiting and sleeping

He wanted us to wait

He wanted us to watch

He wanted us to pray.

And, seeing his drawn features,

And, hearing a voice near to tears,

We wanted to wait

And to watch

And to pray.

And so we sat on our knees and began to pray

But the ground was hard and we relaxed our postures

And soon, in the quiet

We were asleep.

He came back

And the hurt and pain in his voice was one of the most terrible things I have heard.

“You were sleeping!” he whispered

“we will wait and watch and pray” we promised.

And we did.

But the night was warm

With a soft lulling breeze

And soon we were asleep.

He woke us again

We apologised again

We promised again.

We prayed, fervently

We watched – as he paced, and lifted his arms to the sky, and knelt and cried

We listened - We could hear him crying out to God to “take this cup away”

We could not bear it.

And perhaps, because our bodies could not take the agonies they sensed.

Once more we fell asleep.

Once more we let him down.

And there were no chances left.

How could we be angry with Judas for betraying him with a kiss?

When we had already betrayed him

We had already betrayed him.

© Lythan Nevard

Peter in the courtyard

I don’t know him

I was not in my right mind.

Truly, I wasn’t.

I was already reeling from the events in the garden,

Wanting to stay awake but failing, failing.

Judas’ kiss

The arrest.

Running away.

And then doubling back and following the crowd who had Jesus’

And so I arrived at the High Priests Courtyard.

Sweaty and distraught

A head full of everything and nothing

Suddenly so cold and finding my way to the brazier.

I didn’t realise she was speaking to me at first

“You’re one of them aren’t you. Oi, you”

She prodded me.

“You’re one of the followers of that Jesus of Nazareth”

I stood up, and stuttered.

“no, no not me, you’re wrong”

I moved to a more crowded area.

To my horror she watched me and I saw her pointing me out to some others

“Look, he was with Jesus of Nazareth”

“no, I wasn’t”

There was nowhere to go, the place was packed.

I was frantic, my heart was beating so fast, my head was spinning

A group came up to me and one of them said

“Come off it mate, of course you’re one of them – you’re from Galilee too”

“No!” I shouted “I don’t know him. Swear to God!”

I was so loud that the people in the courtyard froze.

Which meant that the sound of the cock crowing came clear across the air.

And then from inside the High Priest’s House, the sound of a man thumping a table

And shouting

“Guilty!”

I broke down.

And wept.

© Lythan Nevard

at the crucifixion

Mary’s song

Oh my baby, oh my boy

Sleep now, sleep.

The song I used to sing to you, when you were a baby

The song I once thought I would sing to your children.

Somehow I find myself singing it now, under my breath.

It stops me from breaking down.

I sang it as I watched you carry the cross up that hill

And as you fell

When I could see the red lines on your back from the whipping

I sang it, with my hands over my ears as they pounded nails into you

And as you cried out when the cross was lifted up

But I did not cry.

I thought about the times I have cried over you.

When you told your father and I that the time had come for you

To fulfil your promise

When I tried to see you – you were tired and worn out and I just wanted you to come home and rest for a few days

And you would not see me and said that everyone was your mother and your brothers.

That was a new sword to pierce my heart.

But now as I look and sing

Oh my baby, oh my boy.... Sleep now, sleep.

I wonder if it was a gift.

To help me for today.

To give some distance to help me cope.

I see the women around me weep – and know that they are your mother’s too.

And that we will support each other.

Even now you have new things to teach me about God’s grace.

I don’t know why this is the way things must happen

But I have long since given up trying to second guess God’s will

There will be tears to shed.

But now,

I stand proud to be the one God called to be your mother,

Amongst your mothers and your brothers

Remembering the stable

And the carpenters shop

And the love and the laughter

And the endless reciting of the Torah

And the debates with your father

And the times of prayer and quiet

And the way you would resolutely do things your way,

Even when I failed to understand.

And I know that you are God’s son

I don’t want you to die

I don’t want it to be over

But I see you in such pain

Oh my baby, oh my boy.... Sleep now, sleep.

It is finished

© Lythan Nevard