Poetry for Holy Week - Part I

Palm Sunday

Now to the gate of my Jerusalem,
The seething holy city of my heart,
The Saviour comes.  But will I welcome him?
Oh crowds of easy feelings make a start;
They raise their hands, get caught up in the singing,
And think the battle won.  Too soon they'll find
The challenge, the reversal he is bringing
Changes their tune.  I know what lies behind
The surface flourish that so quickly fades;
Self-interest, and fearful guardedness,
The hardness of the heart, its barricades,
And at the core, the dreadful emptiness
Of a perverted temple.  Jesus, come
Break my resistance and make me your home.

- Malcolm Guite, Sounding the Seasons

To hear the poet read this aloud, click HERE.

Ride On, King Jesus!

- Steve Bell