Because you care Dear Lord because you care especially about me You’ve thrown down the gauntlet from your tender sea. You send me love packaged from Heaven post-coded and sealed from your Heavenly key. Do help with my Grace, He says and my blessing from Me - you don’t need man-made degrees to work especially for Me. Denis N Manley, February 2002 Barabbas "Barabbas you're free!" "Barabbas you're free!" I couldn't believe my ears. I had seen my last dawn I'd ate my last meal And now I choked back the tears. I'd always lived by the sword For freedom you needed to fight. I'd gambled and lost And now faced the cost I thought life would end with the night. And now came the guard with a key in his hand. With a key and not with a whip, To scourge me and purge me With deep wheals round my back and my hip. I had practised my curses, steeled my resolve I would not beg or cry out, As they lifted me high And left me to die I would end with a victory shout. But now I walk free, relieved yet confused To what do I owe my release? To an innocent man? This miscarriage can Bring me no sense of peace. And so to the place of the Skull I'm drawn Neither to taunt nor to gloat; But to see his face Who took my place, Then a scream rose to my throat. "No! Jesus, No! I should hang there. You don't deserve to die. You should be free Instead of me - Why did this happen? Why?" Then in the dark Jesus spoke the last time "It is finished, I've completed my task." And then did I see Why it had to be he There were no further questions to ask. Revd Don Dowling Note. Barabbas was the convict released by Pilate in preference to Jesus. In some Greek manuscripts of the New Testament Barabbas is also called Jesus – a common name in that period - so Barabbas’ full name could have been Jesus Barabbas (lit. Jesus son of Abbas = Son of the father). If that’s true then there is an irony in that Jesus, the anointed one (Christ), dies in the place of Jesus, the murderer. It's me, Lord This is me This is what I am I am what you see A child with faith Chosen, I did not have to wait Within my music Is my coded prayer And in my heart is a store of beliefs I, hold so, so very dear For I am On a crest of inner peace My love of my God And the God of my love Is the key to a faith released Raising my name, Lord You know who I am It's me, Lord. D.N. Manley  ©

The field of Olives (Of trial and temptation) In anguish and terror. Hard-pressed... Victorious Jesus! Son of God, yet man. In trial, did yield in the field through toil. The olive and it’s oil!  Poured out for us, pure love... Asleep and oblivious. Needed... Beware disciples! Followers of whom? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Ambitious betrayer. Blinkered... Unforgiven Judas! Freedom fighter? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Bribed and gathered. Armed... Manipulated, the Mob! High priests, teachers, elders of the law? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Angry and incensed. Striking... Malachi ‘s ear he takes! Provoked Peter! Justice bringer? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Frightened, self-preserving. Running... Indulgent deserters! Learning what? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Envious and threatened. Disagreeing... Accusing, Sanhedrin! Teachers of law? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Doubting and disowning. Cursing... Loyalty leaving! Peter again! In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Interrogating. Tearing his robe... Horrified, High Priest! Contempt of court? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Uncondemning, unconsenting. Upholding... Good Joseph and Nicodemus! True followers of law! In trial, did yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Cruel, discerning. Expedient... Amazed Pilate! Desperate director? In trial, did not yield in the field, through toil, like the olive and it’s oil. Wendy Walker

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