Lego Jesus – The Easter Chronicles: Palm Sunday

A long time ago, Sofa took a series of photos showing Lego minifigures performing the Easter story. My first real attempt at Toy Photography, that was inspired by the Bible. Here is how that turned out. I’ve always meant to try updating the photos, here is the new attempt…

Matthew 21: 6-9

The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,
“Hosanna[b] to the Son of David!”
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”[c]
“Hosanna[d] in the highest heaven!”

Matthew Chapter 21

There will be more throughout the week… Please come back! (And please share any inspiration for future images)

See The Lego Jesus Adventures for more of Lego Jesus.

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Bible Lego Palm Sunday

From the looks of some of the stats I can see “behind the scenes” at The Church Sofa, it looks like there are a few people out there who are both Lego fans, and also getting ready for Palm Sunday services. Either way, there seems to be a few people looking for something about “Bible Lego Palm Sunday”, and I wondered if the regular readers of The Church Sofa knew about the Star Wars Lego Easter Story. Similar to last years Lego Good Samaritan, the Lego Easter story is a series of photos imagining lego characters acting out the Easter Story. (The above is obviously Palm Sunday.)

Check it out here.

Alternatively if you like all things lego you may also like Tales From The Toy Shelf.

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The Sleeper Agent.

A story about being behind the scenes at Palm Sunday…

Zac trudged round the corner of the house with the kind of barely concealed rage that only a 15-year old can manage. This was all so embarrassing. Nobody else in the whole street tied their donkey at the front of the house instead of the back. Nobody else in the street had to do it religiously every morning like it was some kind of sacred duty. Nobody else got a lecture from their dad, or their grandad, or whoever else was up, about how this was a ‘sacred duty’. And nobody, but nobody, had to repeat the words just to prove they hadn’t forgotten them. It had been his dad this morning. ‘Say them out loud son’, he had said. ‘Say them out loud so I know you’ve got them’. In a monotone intended to convey his fury at this ridiculous ritual, Zac had intoned them once again . ‘If someone says’ the Lord has need of it’, I am to hand the donkey over without any further thought’. ‘Why’ asked his father. ‘Why does that matter in the name of all that’s holy’? . Zac resisted the temptation to say that he couldn’t care less, and gave the official response – ‘because we are sleepers dad, put here for this one sacred duty, this one single moment,and today it may come’.

He repeated the words in his head once again as he leant against the donkey’s warm and dusty flank and tied up its rope. Except, incredibly, they were NOT in his head. There, behind him, a stranger was uttering them. He looked as awkward as the boy felt, but there could be no doubt he was saying the ‘magic’ words. ‘The Lord has need of it’. Zac tried to reply, but his throat was constricted beyond speech. He simply handed over the rope, and watched the receding figures of man and beast as they disappeared off up the road.

Whatever would he tell his dad?

With Thanks to Richard Littledale

Married. Dad.

Blogger / WordPress / Email List Guy.

Photographer.

Support worker. Short sentences. I write Bio in.

The Sleeper

A story about being behind the scenes at Palm Sunday…

Zac trudged round the corner of the house with the kind of barely concealed rage that only a 15-year old can manage. This was all so embarrassing. Nobody else in the whole street tied their donkey at the front of the house instead of the back. Nobody else in the street had to do it religiously every morning like it was some kind of sacred duty. Nobody else got a lecture from their dad, or their grandad, or whoever else was up, about how this was a ‘sacred duty’. And nobody, but nobody, had to repeat the words just to prove they hadn’t forgotten them. It had been his dad this morning. ‘Say them out loud son’, he had said. ‘Say them out loud so I know you’ve got them’. In a monotone intended to convey his fury at this ridiculous ritual, Zac had intoned them once again . ‘If someone says’ the Lord has need of it’, I am to hand the donkey over without any further thought’. ‘Why’ asked his father. ‘Why does that matter in the name of all that’s holy’? . Zac resisted the temptation to say that he couldn’t care less, and gave the official response – ‘because we are sleepers dad, put here for this one sacred duty, this one single moment,and today it may come’.

He repeated the words in his head once again as he leant against the donkey’s warm and dusty flank and tied up its rope. Except, incredibly, they were NOT in his head. There, behind him, a stranger was uttering them. He looked as awkward as the boy felt, but there could be no doubt he was saying the ‘magic’ words. ‘The Lord has need of it’. Zac tried to reply, but his throat was constricted beyond speech. He simply handed over the rope, and watched the receding figures of man and beast as they disappeared off up the road.

Whatever would he tell his dad?

With Thanks to Richard Littledale

Married. Dad.

Blogger / WordPress / Email List Guy.

Photographer.

Support worker. Short sentences. I write Bio in.

Ever Wondered What Part You Play?

The Sleeper

Zac trudged round the corner of the house with the kind of barely concealed rage that only a 15-year old can manage. This was all so embarrassing. Nobody else in the whole street tied their donkey at the front of the house instead of the back. Nobody else in the street had to do it religiously every morning like it was some kind of sacred duty. Nobody else got a lecture from their dad, or their grandad, or whoever else was up, about how this was a ‘sacred duty’. And nobody, but nobody, had to repeat the words just to prove they hadn’t forgotten them. It had been his dad this morning. ‘Say them out loud son’, he had said. ‘Say them out loud so I know you’ve got them’. In a monotone intended to convey his fury at this ridiculous ritual, Zac had intoned them once again . ‘If someone says’ the Lord has need of it’, I am to hand the donkey over without any further thought’. ‘Why’ asked his father. ‘Why does that matter in the name of all that’s holy’? . Zac resisted the temptation to say that he couldn’t care less, and gave the official response – ‘because we are sleepers dad, put here for this one sacred duty, this one single moment,and today it may come’.

He repeated the words in his head once again as he leant against the donkey’s warm and dusty flank and tied up its rope. Except, incredibly, they were NOT in his head. There, behind him, a stranger was uttering them. He looked as awkward as the boy felt, but there could be no doubt he was saying the ‘magic’ words. ‘The Lord has need of it’. Zac tried to reply, but his throat was constricted beyond speech. He simply handed over the rope, and watched the receding figures of man and beast as they disappeared off up the road.

Whatever would he tell his dad?

With Thanks to Richard Littledale

Married. Dad.

Blogger / WordPress / Email List Guy.

Photographer.

Support worker. Short sentences. I write Bio in.