The Song of Mark, Chapter 15
Epic poem retelling chapter 15 of the gospel according to Mark, with dramatic background music.
Dramatic presentation of epic poems on the life of Jesus.
Spirit Song Text presents original poetic paraphrases of the four new testament gospels with dramatic musical background to enhance understanding of the stories. Each song is an entire chapter from the biblical book. Writing and production of these gospel epics is by Jabez Van Cleef, a poet living in Madison, NJ (USA).
Story behind the song
To provide a version of the gospel that people can sing. I offer a liberal policy on use of these lyrics by musicians and composers. Contact me directly if you are interested in a collaboration.
Lyrics
15.
As the bright sun rose hot and high
Romans decided he would die.
They tied the ropes both strong and taut
And brought Jesus before Pilate.
Pilate a simple answer sought:
Are you King of the Jews, or not?
This is what Pilate tried to know;
But Jesus answered, You say so.
And when a judge ’gainst Jesus spoke,
Pilate asked, Why don’t you speak?
For Jesus ’twas a silent cause,
So Pilate wondered who he was.
At the feast there would be set loose
One pris’ner, whom the crowd would choose.
And there was a murderer there,
Barrabas, whom the crowd called for.
So Pilate asked, What shall I do?
This man is called “King of the Jews.”
What evil has he done, that I
Should give you him to crucify?
But they would only rage and shout.
And so he let Barabbas out,
And Jesus he did scourge and whip,
And to the soldiers handed up.
They dressed him in a purple cloak
And spat upon him front and back,
Then they knelt down as if to pray,
And laughed, and mocked his majesty.
They stripped the purple cloak away
And led him out into the day,
And in their ranks followed behind
As through the narrow streets they wound.
Then from the crowd a passerby
They forced to help them crucify;
Simon Cyrene was his name,
Who dragged the cross and shared the blame.
Up to the place of skulls they went
And set the cross upon the mount.
They lifted Jesus to the rail;
The mallet pounded home the nail;
And at crude games of chance they sat,
That all his clothes they might allot.
And there they did a sign dispose:
HAIL ALL HAIL THE KING OF THE JEWS.
Robbers on either side they hung,
To die there in the morning sun.
And those who passed would wag their heads,
Repeating what they thought he said,
Rebuild the temple in three days!
Now save yourself, and earn our praise!
So all who saw him did revile,
And greet his death with easy smile.
And then at noon a darkness fell
Which lingered till they heard him call,
My God hast thou forsaken me?
And they thought soon that he would die.
And then as his last breath was spent,
The curtain of the temple rent,
And a centurion, standing by
Who saw him in that moment die,
Turned to everyone and he said,
This poor man was the Son of God.
Women were watching from afar
Waiting his body to prepare.
Joseph of Arimathea came
To take the corpse out to a tomb.
Pilate asked, Is he really dead?
So he is, the centurion said.
So Joseph took the body down,
And wrapt a linen cloth around.
The women came, took him from there,
His lifeless flesh yet unprepared,
Laid in his tomb, cut from the rock.
They brought a stone the door to block.
