The Finale

This is a spoken word piece that I co-wrote with Jenni Sabino for or Easter production at Westwind. You can see it performed here.

THE FINALE

I’ve begun to muse, my thoughts cutting like a knife,

When I think about the last 7 days of my Jesus life.

Although on earth only thirty-three short years,

It’s the last seven days my mind keeps drawing near.

 

Seven days,

one hundred sixty eight hours,

ten thousand and eighty minutes

till it is finished, complete, final,

his mission means my survival.

All of heaven and earth draw near to watch these scenes,

the angels with excitement long for front row seats.

 

Thirty years leading to these last 7 days,

The curtain opens, my Lord takes the stage.

 

The plot continues in progression, leading to the great Finale.

 

Day 1….

 

A Sunday in Jerusalem a crowd begins to stir,

They’ve heard a whispering in the city, heard a growing murmur.  They’ve heard of a prophet who makes the lame to walk

and the blind to see,

Could he overthrow the strength of Rome

and bring them Victory?

They leave their work behind and grab branches from the trees;

They run to see this Prophet, could this be the King?

 

Hosanna in Highest, they shout with all their might!

Save us with your power and turn the wrong to right!

Children jumping

trying get a view,

pushing through the crowd

to see the Savior the Jews.

 

Or so they thought…

 

They thought he came for such a small minority,

but Jesus heart beat for all humanity.

 

But if they could only get a glimpse into his heart,

see the hurt the pain

The all-consuming sorrow, for he knew in only a matter of days

he would walk this road again.

But no longer with friends,

no he would be alone,

Alone.

This song was a solo.

 

With no understudy waiting in the wings,

For who would want to play the part of suffering?

 

Day 2….

 

Hypocrites, Hypocrites, Hypocrites!

Making money off of God, they just don’t give a rip.

Foreign coins pass through sweaty palms,

giving alms.

The Hypocrisy,

the mockery, of people making profit,

The house of prayer’s, a den of thieves,

Someone’s gotta stop it!

 

Enter the Savior he doesn’t hold back, only he can change the beat,

the crash of tipping tables, the rush of shuffling feet.

This is His Fathers house, He’ll conduct this Symphony.

He’ll purge corruption from this house , He’ll be the Melody.

 

Astonished by His boldness, he gains in influence,

Religious leaders can not hear, they see it as insolence.

This is the day they plot his death, for they’ve been humiliated,

With eagerness the plan unfolds, they’ve been properly motivated.

 

Day 3….

 

Like a true contender, preparing to bout,

the temple is his ring,

Religious teachers from Jerusalem

come to take on the Teaching King.

 

They say “ Holiness is in the act, take care to hide your flaws,

and so they built a system

with law

upon Law

upon LAW.

 

Citations from the prophets, Moses and Abraham,

All used to oppress and condescend those under their religious hand.

 

So sets the scene, One Man against many

Their blackened tempers swell.

He stands composed, their sins exposed,

And calls them Sons of Hell.

 

But as Jesus was preaching

he was reaching,

for there was power in his teaching.

His words rising above their hallow, skin deep drones,

He connected,

directed,

protected from the wolves.

He stole the show!

 

Day 4…

 

In the midst of this great week, a silent day unfolds,

The scriptures are quiet, this day is left untold.

 

What was he doing?

Who was he with?

Where did our Savior stay?

My mind is filled with questions of what went on this day.

 

Was he one last time with lepers,

despite their bloody wounds and smell.

Or was he quenching the thirst of someone,

like the woman at the well.

 

Did another lame man walk today,

another receive sight?

Were thousands fed more than food to fill their spiritual appetite?

 

Or was he praying, on his knees,

His thoughts conveying the shepherd of prophecy?

The King of Kings,

the Lord of Lords,

the mighty Counselor,

The Prince of Peace,

Almighty God,

the Savior of the World.

These are more than just titles these are his names,

He is the one a thousand years of scriptures loudly proclaim.

 

Or did he long for home,

reunited with the Father and the spirit on the throne?

Was there a sense of homesickness,

conflicted thoughts, restricted true community.

Was he thinking back to heaven,

or looking forward?

Did he see me?

 

Day 5….

Communion, Jesus fills the day with the people close to him.  Passover feast,

the breaking of bread,

substitutionary atonement of sin.

The juxtaposition of that day,

The Son of God washing feet of those he means to save.

 

A dispute over greatness ensues,

The disciples vying for a spot near the King of the Jews.

Little did they know that the time was drawing nigh,

Their leader would show where greatness truly lies.

 

Peter declares his loyalty, I won’t deny my Lord.

He swears to lay down his life and seals it with a sword.

 

Judas, the betrayer, all ready has his silver spent,

A kiss away,

in Gethsemane,

will bring the Lords torment.

 

The fellowship at the table now leads to the garden scene

Where prayers of blood flow from his face, he pleads in agony.

The sacrifice of will,

the sacrifice of life,

not my will but yours be done,

He is the sacrifice.

 

A sudden rush of soldiers rips through the darkened night,

Orchestrated dissonance, a chorus of dark plight.

Chaotic shouts resound, heads turn in confusion,

Lines are being drawn, sides of truth or disillusion.

And yet he stands composed, I can’t even begin to understand,

Ten thousand angels ready, will he give the command?

No, no, not this night,

instead he gives his hands.

 

And those who stood with him, who communed with him that day,

Did they fight back with gritted teeth?

No, they ran away,

they left him there betrayed.

 

Day 6:  A Rooster Crows…

 

Madness, it was absolute madness,

they moved him quickly through the streets,

crowds so thick, hard to see.

In the midst of shuffling feet they moved my Jesus place to place, Pushing,

shoving,

pointing,

running,

a violent crowd keeping pace.

 

Pharisees and Sadducees worked up to a frenzy,

But the beatings and the mockery begin to soothe their envy.

 

Then to Pilate and his hand wash basin

He didn’t want anything to do this he was disinterested and complacent, He put it back on the people

he’d let them choose who they wanted,

He gave them the murderer Barabbas

and they took him,

but Jesus they taunted.

 

Back and forth they dragged him, and they had him explain himself.

They called him names

and blamed him

for the sins they did themselves.

He didn’t say a word, though they gave him the opportunity.

In the midst of accusations he frustrated–with humility.

 

A Crushing Blow…

 

No, NO, this isn’t right,

To treat another human being like this makes me completely horrified.  Let alone, a king, let alone the Son of God,

Who now gets treated like a criminal, beaten with whips and rods.

 

No, No, No!  This is one of those situations where ignorance is bliss,

I’m struggling to find words to even describe an event like this.

 

We use words like tortured,

beaten,

battered,

bruised

But these words fail to fully represent the brutality that was used.

 

Imagine, use your minds,

Then I won’t have to describe the absolute horror of a man mutilated.  It’s your turn, use your minds

To confide your repugnance of a man so humiliated,

I don’t wanna explain

I don’t want to sustain

the pain that I feel inside.

I don’t wanna fill ya in,

I don’t want to pretend,

that I’ve mastered the agony I hide.

 

So what I ask of you, is it impossible?

Are you capable of empathy?

Cause they tortured my Lord and dragged him through streets,

There wasn’t a shred of sympathy.

What I’m asking you, are you able?

Can you comprehend?

Cause those who stood and looked on that day they cried,“crucify him!”

 

The Blood that Flows….

 

Then Paradox,

status quo is rocked,

to see a perfect being being led to his doom.

A place called Calvary

awaits deity,

where the punishing would resume.

But it’s not what you’d expect,

his composure in check,

not the behavior from a man in pain,

he lays out his arms

to the soldiers alarm,

as the hammer come downs with a clang.

 

Silent, silent as they raised him above the crowd,

What did he see

in his agony,

when he looked down at the ground?

A contrast in emotion

Some laughed,

few cried,

most scorned his name with venom,

They think his crucifixion is a show,

to merely entertain them.

 

The focus of days earlier, he’s now a public rouge,

But silent, silent, he quietly suffers and the song decrescendos.

 

The instruments begin to take their leave,

and so fades the sounds of hope and peace,

the melody winds down to a faint heartbeat.

The role of conductor,

the role of composer

all have diminished,

and there upon the cross-shaped stage,

he whispers “It is finished.”

 

No bow,

No applause,

no curtain call,

instead the audience leaves,

The maker of the music is gone,

Is this the grand finale?

 

DAY 8…

The morning is still, the maker lies unmoving,

The onlookers are gone now, only soldiers are maneuvering.

In the ground, the air is stagnant,

no breath fills the tomb where my Savior lays,

but echo’s remain of his voice declaring,

“I’ll rebuild the temple on the third day.

The impossibility of that phrase,

that claim,

that statement resounds,

but the man was silenced

because of violence,

his body deep within the ground.

 

And yet a barley audible note now pierces through the dark,

A distant drum,

a far off hum,

a melody begins to spark.

 

A twitch of finger

a bat of eye,

a shuffling of movement from within the stonewalled tomb, Something is happening,

a light ignites,

to combat the darkened gloom.

 

Forces appose this event taking place, Fear and panic give rise,

The evil displayed

now feeling dismayed,

as it senses it’s own demise.

 

Death looses power,

pain releases it’s tightening grip,

the music swells,

and all of hell

cries out as it’s fingers begin to slip.

 

This day was set from the beginning of time,

This day is why the stars were aligned.

This day the universe focuses it’s attention,

This day is what all of God’s word gives mention.

This day brings together Heaven and earth,

This day is the point, this is why he came to earth.

This day is end of our Lord’s death,

This day is the day he draws a new breath.

 

The earth,

the sun,

galaxies and beyond,

all keeping time,

as with one voice they cry,

He is alive!!!

 

Jubilation,

the celebration

and elation of the savior now restored,

Anticipation

a great nation

of incarnation making Jesus Christ their Lord.

 

He’s Alive,

He’s Alive, for you and me he died.

He lives, He lives, Oh we must worship him.

 

HE IS THE GREAT… FINALE

 

 

Jethro and the Hard Decision

Below is a story I wrote for our Wednesday night kid’s program, Grow. I had a blast reading it to the kids.

On September 13th, when he was 11 years old, Jethro Barnaby had a very important decision to make. It was time for the student council elections in his class and he had to decide who he was going to cast his vote for class president. Would it be Pete Mitchels, a transfer student who had no chance of winning, or Tammy Tolwenke, a mean, loud girl who smelled like tunafish all the time. Tammy Tolwenke had won the race for class president every year since second grade, which is when classes start having class presidents. How can a mean, loud girl who smells like tunafish all the time win every year, you might ask? She won every year because of one reason–Tommy Tolwenke, Tammy’s older, meaner, louder, and tunafish smellier brother.

At recess Tammy would ask her classmates to vote for her with her brother there to make sure they did. Most would quickly fall in line and pledge their allegiance to Tammy, but for those who tried to be be brave, well let’s just say that they are a part of John F. Kennedy Elementary School history. For instance, Jimmy Valentine in second grade couldn’t come out of the bathroom when Tommy Tolwenke picked him up and placed him directly into the toilet, ruining his Sonic the hedgehog tennis shoes that he had gotten over the summer. Starla Pots cried until her parents picked her up in 3rd grade when Tommy Tolwenke showed her his pet tarantula, Colossal, and threatened to put him in her hair if she didn’t vote for his sister, Tammy. But the most memorable of all those who stood against Tammy and her smelly brother was Chester Gilbert. Not only did Chester decide not to vote for Tammy, but he chose to run against her for class president. By the time all of Chester’s hair grew back he was half a semester into being a home school student, and Tammy was once again class president. Needless to say Jethro Barnaby had a very important decision to make. Mostly because he had decided not to vote for Tammy Tolwenke, no matter how mean, loud or smelly her brother was.

Jethro felt alone is his situation. He didn’t know who to turn to, so he decided to pray. That night at bedtime he knelt beside his bed, folded his hands and closed his eyes and prayed, “God, please protect me from tarantulas and toilet water. Help me to make the right decision, no matter how hard it is.” It was at this time that a Bible story Jethro had heard at church came to his mind. It was the story of Daniel and the Lions Den.

In the story, Daniel had an important decision to make as well. The king of Babylon, named Nebuchadnezzar, had made it a law to worship only him. And anyone who wouldn’t worship him would be thrown into the lion’s den, a place where wild, hungry lions were kept to use as a punishment to anyone who didn’t do the kings wishes. Everyone else in the land chose to worship King Nebuchadnezzar for fear of being eaten alive by the ravenous lions in the den. This was something that Daniel could not do. Daniel worshipped only one person–God, and he would not bow down to anyone else even if that meant being eaten by lions. Which is exactly what was about to happen.

Jethro remembered how his teacher told him that Daniel was arrested for not bowing to the king and, in fact, thrown into the lion’s den. The king even put a rock over it to make sure Daniel would not be able to get away. Daniel was left in the den over night.  Jethro remembered being so afraid when he first heard that story. He remembered he had watched a TV show about lions on Animal Planet and how they weigh over 500 pounds. A male lion can eat up to 75 pounds of meat at one time, which alarmed him because that was exactly how much Jethro weighed! A lion could eat all of me, he thought. But then Jethro’s teacher told him that Daniel did not get eaten. He didn’t even get bitten or scratched. He was left completely alone, protected by God’s angels. Because Daniel had chosen to do the right thing, over the easy thing, God had spared him from being supper for the lions. Daniel followed his conviction to do the right thing for God. After Jethro finished thinking about that story, he felt calm inside. He finished his prayer time saying, “God, I want to do what’s right, and not what is easy. Please help me do that. Amen” Jethro found it easier to sleep that night.

The next day was election day. All around the school were posters and signs about who to vote for. There were people passing out buttons and ribbons to pin to your shirts to show who your candidate was. Needless to say there were a lot of Tammy Tolwenke buttons being worn, which surprisingly made the students wearing them also smell like tunafish. Jethro came to school still a bit nervous about what might happen to him. He knew that he would have to vote and he knew that there would be consequences for going against Tammy.

As he walked down the hall Tammy jumped out in front of him and said, “Here, Jethro, wear one of these buttons so that everyone can know who you are voting for.”

Jethro gulped a deep gulp that felt like he was trying to swallow 75 pounds of meat. “Um…” he said.

“Come on Jethro,” Tammy said, “you don’t want to know what happens if you don’t”

Tammy had told the truth, he didn’t want to know what would happen, but he still didn’t want to vote for Tammy.

“Um” Jethro said again. It was at this time that Tommy Tolwenke came walking down the hall. With he and Tammy in the same area the smell of tunafish cut through the hallway.

“What’s the matter, Tammy? This guy need a little motivation?” Tommy said.

“He just keeps saying, ‘Um’. Maybe you can help get him to pledge his vote to me.”

Tommy gave a huge, menacing grin. He looked like he was actually prepared to eat Jethro, just like the lions in the Daniel Bible story. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. It seems like every year there is someone who tries to test me. Well, this year I have an even better “motivational method”. Tommy Tolwenke put his hands in his pocket and began to pull out what became evident was some sort of weapon. It was wrapped in plastic like a balloon. Was it a water balloon? Was it a grenade?

It wasn’t until Tommy Tolwenke had the weapon fully out of his pocket and was lightly throwing it up and catching it in his hand that the smell began to infiltrate the hallway. It smelled like the pier of a boat harbor. No worse, it smelled like a fish hatchery. That was no water balloon weapon in Tommy Tolwnke’s hand! It was a Tunafish balloon, and he was preparing to heave it at Jethro causing him to reek to the point of puking! Jethro threw up his hands and said, “I will not vote for anyone who is this mean, no matter how badly they treat me.”

Tommy Tolwenke’s arm was now in fully cocked position as he stretched out with all his might and threw the Tuna balloon directly at Jethro’s face. It wasn’t Jethro’s eyes that told him that he was missed, but his nose. He didn’t smell rotten tunafish on his face. He didn’t have to hurl.

Jethro opened his eyes to see that the weapon of mass destruction had missed Jethro and instead landed on the pant leg of Mr. Gregory, the assistant principal. The crowd looked in disbelief as Tommy Tolwenke, followed by his sister, Tammy, was escorted down the hall into the principal’s office.

Jethro learned a valuable lesson that day about standing up for what is right. Even if doing the right thing can be painful, we need to follow our convictions and do what’s right.