Jesus sings Baritone.

It was Mary Magdalene’s

face that caught my eye,

giggling around the camp fire,

leading the line of dancing laughing

women and men as Jesus and others

sang the rhythm.

Jesus sang their happiness

and threaded through

tender touches of words 

of love and generosity,

taught afresh their humanity.


He sang through the streets, 

as they walked, with grace notes

tuning into the prison of pain,

hearing your song, as though 

he has come

just for 



He sang the country roads

in the darkness of days 

and met the wandering shepherds.

His refrain sought out folk in 

fearful hiding and gave 

them a light to hold –

in their shaking hands and

he gave them their voice –

songs of strength and dignity,

hope and unity, threading them all

with the blessing of belonging


to him, and he included

them from the                         margins

 as he sang his innocence to Pilate

and his Willingness to his father

to sing the agony of the lash,

the cruel cross until he sang the crystal

Song of Resurrection.


All around his stereo song has made 

ways through the wilderness 

leading along a narrow and stony

way, in which we stumble as

his baritone ballad

balances our being.

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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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