bob robbins

funny monday

I've never been a very good dancer. Maybe I could take lessons from this guy.

 

Where is my Lord?
They have taken Him away.
All I see is a tomb, a place that is empty.
And just when I need Him,
and long for His voice,
even His body would not wait for my tears.

Shut away in a box, He has conquered their coffin.
Shut away in a book, He fulfils, Living Word.
Shut away in our concepts, He shatters such shackles.
No prison can hold Him; no tomb thwart the miracle.
His live is our liberty; His love changed my life.
No dying can rob me of what He has given:
once blind, now I see.
Hallelujah! His promise:
'In the day when the hears of men
fail them for fear,
then look up, little flock,
your redemption draws near.'

Let all creation
give thans to the Risen Lord.

Filled with His praises,
give thanks to the Risen Lord.

He is our Shepherd, and we are His sheep.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord.

Stepping out boldly, we claim resurrection.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord.

Laid in a borrowed tomb, awaiting the sign of Jonah - the only sign that would be given to His generation - that after three days and nights in the womb of the earth, th belly of the fish, the grave , He would come forth to do His Father's will - Jesus the humble Son of God, the exultant Son of Man, the eternal contradiction, the Blessed One. The end is not yet. Weeping endures for a night, but joy come in the morning. The good news - 'He is risen' - will burst upon the Son-rise.

Therefore with joy shall we draw water out of the wells of salvation.

When all is dark,
and Hope is buried,
it is hard to trust His words
that promised, before the pain:
He died that I might live.

In His death is my birth.
He died that I might live.

In His life is my life.
He died that I might live.

My Jesus! He died that I might live.

As Jesus slowly sagged down with more weight on the nails in the wrists, excrutiating, fiery pain shot along the fingers and up the arms to explode in the brain. As He pushed Himself upward to avoid this stretching torment, He placed His full weight on the nail through His feet. Again there was searing agony as the nail tore through the nerves. As the arms fatigued, great waves of cramps swept over the muscles, knotting them in deep, relentless, throbbing pain. Jesus fought to raise Himself, in order to get even on short breath. 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.'

To the thief dying at His side:'Today thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.'

To His mother and His closest friend; ' Woman, behold thy son' - 'Behold thy mother.'

in the words of the plam foretelling the death of Messiah, He cried; 'My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?'

Father God, You waited
through the long hours of agony,
when He was robbed even
of the sense of Your love, Your presence,
when the sin and disease an hatred
and darkness overwhelmed Him so greatly.
He was wounded for my transgressions.

Father, what love is this of His?
What lvoe is this of yours
that His dying love reflects?
Your forgiveness for me,
as we gaze upon His sacrificial death,
is as tryly an undeserved gift
as the pardon He spoke to the dying thief.
It is mine if I will only receive:
He was wounded for my transgressions.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

The journey was at an end. Jesus was quickly thrown backward with His shoulders agaist the wood. The soldier felt for the depression at the front of the wrist; he drove a heavy, square wrought-iron nail through the wrist and deep into the wood. Quickly, he moved to the other side and repeated the action, being careful not to pull the arms too tightly. The title 'Jesus of Nazerath, King of the Jews' was nailed into place, and the cross-bar lifted into position. The left foot was pressed backward agaisnt the right foot. With both feet extended, toes down, a nail was driven through the arch of each, leaving the knees moderately flexed.

The victim was now crucified.
'Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.'
He is our peace.

Jesus, our sin put the nails in Your hands.
It was love that held You there.

Jeus, our sin put the nails in Your feet.
It was love that held You there.

The soulders hoisted Your cross on high.
You wre their prisoner;
but no one took Your life away from You.
You gave it willingly, freely.
I was love that held You there.

Your were lifted high upon that cross,
even as You had prophesied when You promised:
'I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to Me.'
It was love that held You there.

At the place of death the King of life is stripped of His clothes. Naked, He came into the world; naked, He is taken from the world. Vulnerable, exposed, God became man. He was a crying, helpless, dependent baby. Now, vulnerable, exposed, His heart, His life, His body all bared before the world, He will be hung up to be mocked. But God is not mocked - His very nakedness is a parale, a sacrament, a picture of the Father's hurting heart exposed in love to us.

Lord, You were stripped of the robs You wore,
but You were the same - it didn't change You.
Things meant little to You; You never hid behind them.
You showed us the Father's heart,
so open and broken:
may we be open to You, and to each other.

Lord, for our sake You left the riches of heaven
and became poor.
You came within our reach.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

You did not hold on to even the little
You had left to call Your own.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

The nakedness of God was exposed before the world.
Lord, O lovely Christ,
may we be open to You, and to each other.

No robe was left now upon Your tired shoulders,
just a crown of mockery on Your head.
Your were still a King.
You loved, and won rejection and pain -
but still You loved.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

Jesus fell again. Oh God, how many times must I fall and pick up that cross again? As many as seven times? Or seventy times seven times? For ever; until this never-ending road is ended; until the impossible is completed, the unbearable borne through all eternity.

For the sake of My children, My sons, my loved ones, My bride, My people, I must go on. I will not, I must not, give up now. The way of sorrows, the way of pain, the way of self-renunciation, the way of My cross.

How long the road You came for us, Lord,
with Your smarting burden! O Lord,
Your love has no limits.

You picked up the weight of Your cross,
the weight of our sins.
We are Your burden, an overwhelming burden;
but that burden is seet to You
because of the love You also bear to us,
an overwhelming love.
You love has no limits.

Lord, I know You can forgive me:
Your love has no limits.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

As Jesus continued, painfully stumbling along the road to Calvary, a group of women joined the procession, wailing in the manner normally considered appropriate for a funeral procession. But Jesus told them instead to cry out to God for themselves and their own children.

Lord, some of us are never far from tears,
and some of us have forced ourselves not to cry.
Bring our tears into Your captivity and direction,
that they respond to Your voice.
You have the words of eternal live.

Lord, You have the words of eternal life.

The pain, the exhaustion, the love that drives Him on - but the cross is so heavy. Again He falls beneath the weight: and in bitter resolution - Thy will be done - and in fatigue, Jesus again drives Himself up against the cross, and carries it on towards the fateful Hill of Death.

Will it never end?
I'm not as sure as when I started.
I never knew it would be like this.
But this is my firm choice:
Lord, I will go on with You.

Lord, often I fall,
and the temptation is not to rise again
and continue with You.
When I fall and others watch and laugh,
or say, 'I told you so, you'll never make it,'
give me the strength to fulfill my promise:
Lord, I will go on with You.

As Jesus again shouldered the cross and bore its burden, He glanced anhead and saw His mother. He could not stop to talk, to explain, to gather her in His arms and comfort her. All His energy was being soaked into that cross.

Who are my nother and brothers? Those who do the will of My father.

Not My will, Father, but Yours.

 

Lord, You had to leave the security
of home and family, twice.
You left Your Father to be a man with us,
and left Your human failiy to die for us.
You had to pray to Your Father:
My God, I trust in You.

Lord, when we leave all and follow You
and it hurts those we love,
help us to know that You have been there, too;
that no one leaves behind father, mother or loved one
but is more than rewarded in the end.
Help us to pray:
My God, I trust in You.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

Jesus is risen

Where is my Lord?
They have taken Him away.
All I see is a tomb, a place that is empty.
And just when I need Him,
and long for His voice,
even His body would not wait for my tears.

Shut away in a box, He has conquered their coffin.
Shut away in a book, He fulfils, Living Word.
Shut away in our concepts, He shatters such shackles.
No prison can hold Him; no tomb thwart the miracle.
His live is our liberty; His love changed my life.
No dying can rob me of what He has given:
once blind, now I see.
Hallelujah! His promise:
'In the day when the hears of men
fail them for fear,
then look up, little flock,
your redemption draws near.'

Let all creation
give thans to the Risen Lord.

Filled with His praises,
give thanks to the Risen Lord.

He is our Shepherd, and we are His sheep.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord.

Stepping out boldly, we claim resurrection.
Give thanks to the Risen Lord.

Jesus is laid in the sepulchre

Laid in a borrowed tomb, awaiting the sign of Jonah - the only sign that would be given to His generation - that after three days and nights in the womb of the earth, th belly of the fish, the grave , He would come forth to do His Father's will - Jesus the humble Son of God, the exultant Son of Man, the eternal contradiction, the Blessed One. The end is not yet. Weeping endures for a night, but joy come in the morning. The good news - 'He is risen' - will burst upon the Son-rise.

Therefore with joy shall we draw water out of the wells of salvation.

When all is dark,
and Hope is buried,
it is hard to trust His words
that promised, before the pain:
He died that I might live.

In His death is my birth.
He died that I might live.

In His life is my life.
He died that I might live.

My Jesus! He died that I might live.

Jesus dies upon the cross

As Jesus slowly sagged down with more weight on the nails in the wrists, excrutiating, fiery pain shot along the fingers and up the arms to explode in the brain. As He pushed Himself upward to avoid this stretching torment, He placed His full weight on the nail through His feet. Again there was searing agony as the nail tore through the nerves. As the arms fatigued, great waves of cramps swept over the muscles, knotting them in deep, relentless, throbbing pain. Jesus fought to raise Himself, in order to get even on short breath. 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.'

To the thief dying at His side:'Today thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.'

To His mother and His closest friend; ' Woman, behold thy son' - 'Behold thy mother.'

in the words of the plam foretelling the death of Messiah, He cried; 'My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?'

Father God, You waited
through the long hours of agony,
when He was robbed even
of the sense of Your love, Your presence,
when the sin and disease an hatred
and darkness overwhelmed Him so greatly.
He was wounded for my transgressions.

Father, what love is this of His?
What lvoe is this of yours
that His dying love reflects?
Your forgiveness for me,
as we gaze upon His sacrificial death,
is as tryly an undeserved gift
as the pardon He spoke to the dying thief.
It is mine if I will only receive:
He was wounded for my transgressions.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

Jesus is nailed to the cross

The journey was at an end. Jesus was quickly thrown backward with His shoulders agaist the wood. The soldier felt for the depression at the front of the wrist; he drove a heavy, square wrought-iron nail through the wrist and deep into the wood. Quickly, he moved to the other side and repeated the action, being careful not to pull the arms too tightly. The title 'Jesus of Nazerath, King of the Jews' was nailed into place, and the cross-bar lifted into position. The left foot was pressed backward agaisnt the right foot. With both feet extended, toes down, a nail was driven through the arch of each, leaving the knees moderately flexed.

The victim was now crucified.
'Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.'
He is our peace.

Jesus, our sin put the nails in Your hands.
It was love that held You there.

Jeus, our sin put the nails in Your feet.
It was love that held You there.

The soulders hoisted Your cross on high.
You wre their prisoner;
but no one took Your life away from You.
You gave it willingly, freely.
I was love that held You there.

Your were lifted high upon that cross,
even as You had prophesied when You promised:
'I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to Me.'
It was love that held You there.

Jesus is stripped of his gaments

At the place of death the King of life is stripped of His clothes. Naked, He came into the world; naked, He is taken from the world. Vulnerable, exposed, God became man. He was a crying, helpless, dependent baby. Now, vulnerable, exposed, His heart, His life, His body all bared before the world, He will be hung up to be mocked. But God is not mocked - His very nakedness is a parale, a sacrament, a picture of the Father's hurting heart exposed in love to us.

Lord, You were stripped of the robs You wore,
but You were the same - it didn't change You.
Things meant little to You; You never hid behind them.
You showed us the Father's heart,
so open and broken:
may we be open to You, and to each other.

Lord, for our sake You left the riches of heaven
and became poor.
You came within our reach.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

You did not hold on to even the little
You had left to call Your own.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

The nakedness of God was exposed before the world.
Lord, O lovely Christ,
may we be open to You, and to each other.

No robe was left now upon Your tired shoulders,
just a crown of mockery on Your head.
Your were still a King.
You loved, and won rejection and pain -
but still You loved.
May we be open to You, and to each other.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

Jesus falls the third time

Jesus fell again. Oh God, how many times must I fall and pick up that cross again? As many as seven times? Or seventy times seven times? For ever; until this never-ending road is ended; until the impossible is completed, the unbearable borne through all eternity.

For the sake of My children, My sons, my loved ones, My bride, My people, I must go on. I will not, I must not, give up now. The way of sorrows, the way of pain, the way of self-renunciation, the way of My cross.

How long the road You came for us, Lord,
with Your smarting burden! O Lord,
Your love has no limits.

You picked up the weight of Your cross,
the weight of our sins.
We are Your burden, an overwhelming burden;
but that burden is seet to You
because of the love You also bear to us,
an overwhelming love.
You love has no limits.

Lord, I know You can forgive me:
Your love has no limits.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer

Jesus meets the womem of jerusalem

As Jesus continued, painfully stumbling along the road to Calvary, a group of women joined the procession, wailing in the manner normally considered appropriate for a funeral procession. But Jesus told them instead to cry out to God for themselves and their own children.

Lord, some of us are never far from tears,
and some of us have forced ourselves not to cry.
Bring our tears into Your captivity and direction,
that they respond to Your voice.
You have the words of eternal live.

Lord, You have the words of eternal life.

Jesus falls the second time

The pain, the exhaustion, the love that drives Him on - but the cross is so heavy. Again He falls beneath the weight: and in bitter resolution - Thy will be done - and in fatigue, Jesus again drives Himself up against the cross, and carries it on towards the fateful Hill of Death.

Will it never end?
I'm not as sure as when I started.
I never knew it would be like this.
But this is my firm choice:
Lord, I will go on with You.

Lord, often I fall,
and the temptation is not to rise again
and continue with You.
When I fall and others watch and laugh,
or say, 'I told you so, you'll never make it,'
give me the strength to fulfill my promise:
Lord, I will go on with You.

Jesus is met by his blessed mother

As Jesus again shouldered the cross and bore its burden, He glanced anhead and saw His mother. He could not stop to talk, to explain, to gather her in His arms and comfort her. All His energy was being soaked into that cross.

Who are my nother and brothers? Those who do the will of My father.

Not My will, Father, but Yours.

 

Lord, You had to leave the security
of home and family, twice.
You left Your Father to be a man with us,
and left Your human failiy to die for us.
You had to pray to Your Father:
My God, I trust in You.

Lord, when we leave all and follow You
and it hurts those we love,
help us to know that You have been there, too;
that no one leaves behind father, mother or loved one
but is more than rewarded in the end.
Help us to pray:
My God, I trust in You.

Taken from Celtic Daily Prayer