Sunday, April 14, 2024

"The Emmaus Triptych"

Here is one more Emmaus Road poem...



 

THE EMMAUS TRIPTYCH

Luke 24:13-35

 

I. THE UNNAMED FRIEND

 

Cleopas and friend walked and talked

with lumbering gaits and downcast faces

shining hopes of sweet redemption

dashed and obliterated

 

They asked of each other the Why question

for if anyone had come to fill those old prophecies

surely it had seemed to be Him

that Jesus they'd come to know

through signs and wonders

that appeared to be miraculous

 

Their so-called Messiah had been crucified

was dead and gone. Yes, gone, gone, gone!

Even His cold dead body was missing

from the tomb that had been sealed—

 

He approached them

in the midst of their perplexity

on the road to Emmaus

He walked with them, talked with them

they even felt His fire

but didn't know who He was

 

and strange as that may seem

how often have I been

the unnamed friend of Cleopas?

I, too, profess to know Him, know Him well

yet fail to recognize Him along the road

 

II. THE STRANGER

 

Taking the barley loaf in his hands

the stranger lifted it

 

Baruch ata Adonai

Eloheynu Melech ha Olam

ha motzie lechem

min ha'aretz

 

He tore it, offered it, and just as it fell

into reaching grasps

their astonished eyes recognized Him

and in that instant

He utterly vanished from their sight!

 

Leaping from the table, Cleopas and his friend

stumbled over each other

looking under, over, around and around

knowing even as they did

it was True after all

 

As they looked at each other

their disbelief became relief

the sweet awakening of a deep Belief

 

for Truth visited them along the way

joined them at their table, broke their humble bread

They asked each other

 

Were not our hearts burning

as He talked with us on the road

and opened the Scriptures to us?

 

Now, blazing temples of Holy Fire

they suddenly knew their once shattered hearts

would never cool again

 

III. MY EMMAUS

 

When I first found You, or You found me

I thought I'd go from strength to strength

pinnacle to pinnacle, joy to joy

and so it was for a season

when love was new

 

then the whirlwind came

thrashing through my world

upending all my securities

leaving me stunned, broken, alone

certain I would die

 

so I waited for You to save me

waited for prayers pleaded at Your scarred feet

to avail their just reward

for I believed in You, trusted, hoped

Eyes veiled, I couldn't find You

failed to recognize You along the road

 

Had I believed in vain?

 

Then You began to speak

not audibly, but  whenever I opened Your Word

Radiance, Glory, Unfailing Love

sprang from the page and became manifest

My heart blazed! I began to shine!

 

Now, on the other side of sorrow

I dare not forget my burning heart,

Your Glorious Presence

so I abide, remembering

it is You, my Jesus

Who walks with me along the road

 

Maude Carolan


More Poems?


"Behold the Lamb...poetically!"

by Maude Carolan Pych

is available online

at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, CBD, etc.


www.maudecarolanpych.net

Sunday, April 7, 2024

"Along Emmaus Road"

 

"Meeting the Christ on the Road to Emmaus"

by Daniel Bonnell


ALONG EMMAUS ROAD

Luke 24 & Isaiah 53 NASB

 

I’m sitting in the kitchen

with my Bible open

reading about the men

who were walking to Emmaus

the Sunday following the Crucifixion

 

thinking how bewildered they were

and dismayed that the one

they supposed was their savior was gone—

He died upon that Cross on Friday

leaving their hopes completely dashed

 

and I’m thinking about Jesus

joining them on their journey

as a complete stranger

bringing the hope of the Gospel

as He explained about Himself in the Tanakh

without revealing that they were actually walking

the seven miles to Emmaus

with their newly Resurrected Lord

 

I flip through the pages

and see Jesus handwritten in the margins

of the Old Testament, over and over

wherever I’ve discovered Him anew

and recall each exciting revelation

 

and imagine their amazement

as they listened to Jesus

revealing Himself as He spoke

about Moses and the Prophets

particularly when He came to the part

about the Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53

How exciting it had to have been to hear it

from the lips of the Suffering Servant, Himself—

 

Despised and forsaken

a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief

smitten of God and afflicted

pierced for our transgressions

crushed for our iniquities

by whose scourging we were healed

 

Who like a lamb was led to the slaughter

Who like a sheep, was silent before its shearers

 

assigned a grave with wicked men

but was with a rich man in death

 

He rendered Himself as a guilt offering

and God would prolong His days

 

Jesus…Jesus…Jesus

 

I visualize the men

clutching their burning hearts

 

When they reached their destination

they invited the stranger to stay with them

because the hour was late

 

and as they gathered around a table

to partake of an evening meal

Jesus lifted a loaf to bless—

 

Suddenly their eyes beheld

His nail-pierced hands!

 

and as He broke their humble bread

they recognized Him

 

In that instant Jesus vanished!

 

but the words He spoke

along the road that day

were permanently seared

upon their hearts

 

so they rose from the table

and hurried off that very hour

all the way back to Jerusalem, in the dark

to tell the disciples of all the wonders

that happened that remarkable day

 

Maude Carolan Pych


More Poems?


"Behold the Lamb...poetically!"

by Maude Carolan Pych

is available online

at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, CBD, etc.


www.maudecarolanpych.net


 

 

 


Sunday, March 31, 2024

Happy Resurrection Day!

 A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day

Happy Resurrection Day!


I am featuring two poems today...


RISEN

 

It’s Holy Saturday

 

Dough is rising

on the kitchen counter

 

filling me with thoughts

of rising

 

helium balloons

set free

 

sunrise

over the Sea of Galilee

 

waking up

 

rising

 

soap bubbles

floating skyward

 

seagulls soaring

 

fireworks

booming and bursting

 

jet planes at take-off

 

rocket ships

with long trails of fire

zooming to the moon

 

O, but nothing

 

nowhere

 

and no one

 

has ever done it

 

or will

 

…like Jesus

 

Maude Carolan Pych


Photo credit: constancedenninger.blogspot.com


HE IS NOT HERE

Israel Pilgrimage--2006

 

Some believe

the Body of Messiah was placed

in the highly venerated

tomb located in the Church

of the Holy Sepulcher

 

Some believe

He was buried

in a pastoral place

known as the Garden Tomb

 

The important thing is—

He died. He rose.

He’ll come again.

 

The important thing is

as a placard proclaims

at the entrance

to the Garden Tomb:

 

He is not here—

For He is risen

 

and the important thing is

our sins are atoned—

 

We live because He lives

 

so, let’s celebrate

that He was here—

but is not!

 

Hallelujah!

 

Praise be to Jesus, Our Risen Savior!

 

Maude Carolan Pych


www.maudecarolanpych.net


Saturday, March 30, 2024

"Mary of Magdala"

 A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day

Image credit: christophercrandolph.wordpress.com



MARY OF MAGDALA

 

Mary of Magdala was privileged—

Like the disciples, she was among the few

who spent time with Jesus, followed Him

considered Him Teacher and Friend

She called Him, Rabboni

 

Mary had lived in darkness with demons

Jesus rid her of their terror

drew her into the Light

and she was grateful

She and the brethren experienced

the wonder of unconditional love

from He, Who personified it, perfectly

 

No doubt Mary was there

when Jesus spoke of things

the multitudes yearned to know

like living the beatitudes

like eternity, death and resurrection

like the prophetic sign of Jonah

 

Still, neither she nor the disciples

had a clear understanding

of cosmic events that were about to unfold

 

Then suddenly everything whirled

out of their control

Palm branch homage

hosannas and hallelujahs

quickly turned to betrayal

abduction and a mockery of a trial

 

There were thunderous shouts of

 

Crucify Him! Crucify Him!

 

It was no longer safe

on the streets of Jerusalem

for His followers. They became fearful

Some went into hiding

 

Then, Jesus was Crucified—

 

The earth quaked

and the sky went dark

 

Mary rent her garments and wailed

Full of sorrow, what could she do

except go early the day after the Sabbath

to anoint His dead body

 

but when she arrived at the tomb

It was empty and His body was gone

Angels were there—

resplendent angels, who spoke of resurrection

 

Mary was weeping, utterly bewildered

She couldn’t grasp resurrection—

All she could wonder was

Where was her teacher’s body?

Who took His body away?

 

Suddenly, Rabboni appeared to her

He called her, tenderly by name, but

she couldn’t comprehend

that Him standing there, speaking to her

could possibly be true—

He was dead. Wasn’t He?

 

Mary was struggling to fathom

that the greatest knowledge

ever to befall anyone, anytime, anywhere

befell upon her at that amazing moment

 

This wasn’t a time for weeping—

This was time for rejoicing!

 

She extended her hand to touch Him—

He was Alive! Breathing!

Warm! With flesh and bones—

Indeed, He had risen from the grave!

 

Jesus told her to tell His disciples

so Mary quickly hurried off, proclaiming

 

I have seen the Lord!

 

Oh! It was starting to sink in—

 

The sin of the world was atoned for

by Jesus’ death on the Cross

and by His glorious Resurrection

He became the Firstfruit

of Life Forevermore!

 

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

 

Maude Carolan Pych


More Poems?

"Behold the Lamb...poetically!"

by Maude Carolan Pych

is available online

at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, CBD, etc.


www.maudecarolanpych.net

Friday, March 29, 2024

"The Pieta"

 A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day


Image credit: excerptsofinri.com


It's Good Friday...

Following this printed poem

there is a YouTube video of me reading it.

Just scroll down to the end. 


THE PIETA

 

After the earthquake

the peals of thunder

the flashes of lightning across the sky

After the curious crowds dispersed

Mary sat in ominous dimness

upon a mound of earth

at the base of the Cross

clutching the body

of her Son

 

She cradled Him

in the hollow of her lap

close to her bosom

as she had

when he was

her baby boy

 

Mary removed

thorns of mockery

that encircled His forehead

and tossed it to the side

Straining to see in the shadows

she carefully picked

fragments of thorn needles

still stuck in His lifeless flesh

although they couldn’t hurt Him

any longer

 

With her fingertips

she tenderly closed the lids

over His dark, vacant eyes

and smoothed

the disheveled, matted hair

…then she kissed Him

 

O, my beautiful Son…

 

Tears flowed

down her face onto His cheeks

mingling with dried blood

With the edge of her garment

she wiped some blood away

 

John came

and rested his hand

upon her trembling shoulder

He was now her son

She was now his mother

 

Mysteries

too deep to comprehend

swirled in her mind

like the flap and flutter

of wings and overshadowing

Son of the Most High

and David’s throne

 

like pregnant Elizabeth’s joy

when the baby leapt in her womb

and the Baptizer himself, when grown

proclaiming his younger cousin

“The Lamb of God, Who

takes away the sin of the world”

 

and Simeon’s prophesy

that Jesus would be

a Light of revelation

to the Gentiles and the glory

of the people of Israel

 

Where is the Light?

Where is the glory?

Where is the throne?

 

Overwhelmed by sorrow

so intense it stabbed her

deep, deep in her inner parts

Mary cried out in anguish

and rent her robe

 

Was this what old Simeon meant

long ago in the Temple

when he held Jesus in his arms

and said a sword would pierce

my very soul?

 

O my Son, my beautiful Son…

 

I cannot fathom the ways of God, but

 

I do know this cannot be the end

 

Maude Carolan Pych


YouTube video of Maude reading

"The Pieta."


Thursday, March 28, 2024

"The Place of the Skull"

 A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day


"Golgotha" - The Place of the Skull



THE PLACE OF THE SKULL[1]

“O death, where is your sting?” 1 Cor 15:55

 

Israel Pilgrimage—1987

 

We gather at the base

of a mountainous rock

into which time has carved

the natural image of a human skull

…hence, its chilling name:

Place of the Skull

 

Above this mound lies Golgotha

where on the most significant day

in the history of the world

Jesus of Nazareth was crucified

between two thieves

 

I stare into the hollow eyes

of this ominous image

and am reminded of Ezekiel

and the dry bones

 

bones that took on flesh

and blood and breath

and came to life

before his very eyes

 

Life.

 

Life is what happens at Golgotha

 

Life that is victorious

over the skull and bones. Victorious

over the ominous face of death

 

Life. Everlasting life—

for all atoned of sin

 

who believe

 

Maude Carolan Pych



[1] There are two locations worthy of serious consideration as the place of Jesus’ crucifixion and burial, the traditional site lies within the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the other is Gordon’s Calvary (Golgotha/The Place of the Skull) and the Garden Tomb. Ref. Grace Communion International



"Behold the Lamb...poetically!"

by Maude Carolan Pych

is available online

at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, CBD, etc.


www.maudecarolanpych.net


Wednesday, March 27, 2024

"Remembering Good Fridays"

 A-Poem-a-Day Until Resurrection Day


Image credit: bible.knowing-Jesus.com

REMEMBERING GOOD FRIDAYS

 

When I was a young girl, back in the 50’s

my grandmother said

there should be no talking on Good Friday

between the hours of one and three

 

no running around, no radio and no TV

all out of respect for our Savior

Who suffered and died

upon the Cross at Calvary

 

so try though I did to be silent and still

I was as fidgety, squirmy and irksome

as any healthy active kid would be

who had not yet grasped

the profound depth of what happened

that terrible good day when Jesus died

 

and in the 70’s when my own children

were young and restless

I would bring them to church

during the very same hours Grandma decreed

to venerate the holy Cross

We’d approach the altar

where the Crucifix was displayed

kneel down and kiss the nail pierced feet of Jesus

or solemnly watch a reenactment of the Passion

by the youth group

 

Now, so many years later

now that I am a grandmother myself

I sit without fidgeting and fumbling

willingly turn off the radio and the TV

and carve out meaningful time to meditate

upon all my precious Lord endured

to save me from my sins

 

Sometimes I sing

“Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?”

Sometimes I weep

and sometimes, like today, I write a poem

 

Always, Jesus’ great sacrifice breaks my heart

and always, looking back

at that astonishing empty tomb

I’m reminded of the Hallelujah Hope

I have in Him—which is eternal

 

Grandma would be so pleased

 

Maude Carolan Pych