Good morning, today is Friday, April 24, 2020. My name is Keith and I am the Worship Pastor at Green Acres Baptist Church in Athens, GA.
Psalm 20
May the Lord answer you when you are in distress;
may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
May he send you help from the sanctuary
and grant you support from Zion.
May he remember all your sacrifices
and accept your burnt offerings.
May he give you the desire of your heart
and make all your plans succeed.
May we shout for joy over your victory
and lift up our banners in the name of our God.
May the Lord grant all your requests.
Now this I know:
The Lord gives victory to his anointed.
He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary
with the victorious power of his right hand.
Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
They are brought to their knees and fall,
but we rise up and stand firm.
Lord, give victory to the king!
Answer us when we call!
If you are listening to this online, I have included a link to a poem written by a poet named Malcolm Guite. This poem was written as a reflection on this Easter season in light of the strange times we are in this year. There is some art he has included on his webpage, so I encourage you to look it up, but I have included an audio clip of him reading his poem for us in his own voice. Listen and be encouraged today knowing that Jesus identified with us in his life and death so that we could identify with him in his new life and resurrection.
This poem, and Malcolm Guite’s other work can be found at his website here: https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2020/04/12/easter-2020-a-new-poem/
Easter 2020: A New Poem
And where is Jesus, this strange Easter day?
Not lost in our locked churches, anymore
Than he was sealed in that dark sepulchre.
The locks are loosed; the stone is rolled away,
And he is up and risen, long before,
Alive, at large, and making his strong way
Into the world he gave his life to save,
No need to seek him in his empty grave.
He might have been a wafer in the hands
Of priests this day, or music from the lips
Of red-robed choristers, instead he slips
Away from church, shakes off our linen bands
To don his apron with a nurse: he grips
And lifts a stretcher, soothes with gentle hands
The frail flesh of the dying, gives them hope,
Breathes with the breathless, lends them strength to cope.
On Thursday we applauded, for he came
And served us in a thousand names and faces
Mopping our sickroom floors and catching traces
Of that virus which was death to him:
Good Friday happened in a thousand places
Where Jesus held the helpless, died with them
That they might share his Easter in their need,
Now they are risen with him, risen indeed.