Fernay

THE LAST SUPPER

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Last Supper

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'And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them saying, "This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me." St. Luke 22.19

PASSION WEEK

How long ago this Passion Week
Which man's false tongue does rarely speak
But feasts on tidings all a game
Rarely stopping to say Your name.

It's festive time in this Christian land,
And man to man we lend a hand,
To pack the cars and stock the fridge
Holiday time for all the kids;
Easter show, eggs galore
But do we think of You, my Lord.

How long ago did You accept Your crown,
Thorns entwined to jest a clown;
Lashes striped across Your back,
The weight of the cross,
Ah how we lack!

And as You walked Your stumbling way,
To Calvary Hill on that day,
You saw the future of all mankind,
Through the passage of years
That knows no time.

You smiled at the passers on the way,
Wept with the women who came to stay,
Forgave the thief who shared Your lot
Because Your love we have begot.

You bore the nails, which pierced Your flesh
Suffered the cross when raised in jest,
Reached Your Father at the final hour
‘Forgive them Father for they know not how;
To walk the path of life You've set,
Yet to You I them beget.’

And defeating death You rose again,
Ah Blessed Jesus is Your name;
And may we in this Passion Week
Remember You and of You do speak,
Amidst the festive time at hand
In this Blessed Christian Land.
© Helen Catherine Cramer
From book Day by Day

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