The Hopeful Context

Voices shouting out in praise,
Branches and cloaks laid on the way
To herald the approach of their true king.
Through all those upheld hands,
They couldn’t see His plan
To be the ultimate pure offering.

How often have our noble dreams
Been going swimmingly, it seems,
When suddenly they derail with a great crash.
All progress has been lost,
At far too great a cost,
And we are left with handfuls of cold ash.

We could wallow in our pain and rage
And lock ourselves inside a cage
Of bitterness, resentment and despair;
Or remember that he sees
The fruits in eternity
Of our current struggles, toils and prayers.

So in that hopeful context, try to see and understand
That your pain is part of an almighty plan;
So as you play your role,
It grows and shapes your soul,
To be ready to embrace the great I AM.

Victory

The Devil rested on his laurels
Knowing that he’d won;
He’d arranged for God’s own people
To kill his Only Son.

“His wrath is unavoidable,
He’ll cast them all away,
I’ll drag them down to join my fate,
Despairing all the way.

“The great plan of his creation
Has failed so utterly,
The thought of all those screaming souls
Fills my heart with glee.

“What other torments can I plan
For the fools who followed the Son of Man?
They fled the scene and failed the test
When my time came with his arrest.

“Now they cower, now they hide
In locked rooms fully terrified
Of my next great show of power
As morning breaks this very hour…”
 
Then the ground shook, the curtain tore,
The stone was rolled from the entrance door,
Angels stood and told the news;
His soul was utterly bemused.

“How can this be? He’s back to life!
And thrown the gates to heaven wide,
So any sinner can approach
The throne of God without reproach!

“He used the scandal and the shame,
Humiliation and the pain
To pay the price for what went wrong,
Instead of where the blame belongs.

“All my scheming, all my work
To drive the human world beserk
Has come to nought, my power’s broke,
How dare he twist my twisted joke

“Into something beautiful and true
That cure’s man’s ills and will renew
His bond with his creator God
So all will call him Saviour, Lord?”

And so the Devil did retreat
Ashamed by his complete defeat,
His mandate over Man revoked
For those who choose to bear Christ’s yoke.

If I Had Seen Him…

It was my sin that pinned him there,
My blows he chose to take;
The insults I deserved to bear
He suffered for my sake.

If I had seen him on the cross,
Would I have turned away?
Would I have joined that ugly mob
On that horrific day?

Would I have fled and hid in fear
That I was next in line?
Would I have seen the signs appear
When noonday ceased to shine?

Would I have stood and watched and wept
As his blood was shed,
My heart unable to accept
That my lord was dead?

Would I have understood the gift
That he was giving me,
The price he paid to heal the rift
And set my spirit free?

Do I now live in thankfulness
For all that he has done,
And joy that words cannot express
At all his death has won?

He is risen

On this most superversive of days,
When darkness was swallowed up by light,
When death was overpowered by life,
When despair was torn asunder by dazzling hope,
When guilt was washed away by innocence,
And access to holiness was opened to all,
We can sum it all up in just three words:

 

He is risen.

An Easter Vision

On this special day, I’d like to share a brief vision I had a number of years ago, that ties in with and illustrates the message of Romans chapter 6.

In it Jesus was hanging on the cross. I ran over to him and embraced him as he hung there.

A voice behind me said, “You want to identify with this disgrace? Fine.”

A long metal spike was hammered into my back, piercing through my heart, through Christ’s body and into the cross, pinning me there, and we both died.

I woke up in the tomb next to Him, He helped me to my feet and we walked into the sunshine together.

He turned to me and smiled. “You have died with me, you have been raised with me. Now live like it.”

Shadow and Light

In the beginning all lived in the light
Each creature was a glorious and noble sight
Every work was a joy, every burden light
All sheltered by a hand of benevolent might

Then one was tempted by a lofty goal
That she could be greater than her wondrous soul
She saw a little shortcut, took a little bite
Then began to sense that she should fear the coming night.

Her husband shared her misery by joining in her act
They sought the shadows to obscure their little selfish pact
Their trespass was discovered, their paradise was lost,
But still they could have no idea how much their sin would cost.

Their descendants travelled further from the true and rightful path
With pride leading to jealousy, to strife and deadly wrath.
Reckoning was more delayed from each sinner’s offence,
And so it seemed that shadows could deflect all consequence.

Filled with the thrill of their success, they honed deceitful arts,
And sought out deeper darkness to betray more trusting hearts.
They took great pride in their own guile and ingenuity,
As they dug down into the mire of dark iniquity.

Piece by piece, a gnawing hole grew in their sordid souls,
And of all those that they harmed, who played their sordid roles.
Vengeance was paid back in full and bitterness increased,
Transforming once majestic creatures into wretched beasts.

More and more they soaked in darkness, ate and drank the void
Hoping it would hide their degradation and avoid
The mounting pile of consequence, the troubling pangs of guilt
That festered in the putrid cores that they themselves had built.

They dug so deep, the mire collapsed and buried them alive
They did not dare admit they now had no hope to survive
Their deeds closed in around them, ‘til they were paralyzed,
And then they gave a feeble cry to Him they had despised,

The faintest pinprick of pure light then seeped into their hole
And grew, exposing all the wretchedness of their vile souls.
Ashamed and terrified, they scramble weakly, helplessly
Away from piercing truth’s fierce glare to foul obscurity.

But the light pursues them still, ‘til they surrender all,
Awaiting their destruction in hell’s deep fiery halls
But all the mire around and in them is then torn away
And piled upon an innocent who chose the suffering way.

He takes the pain, abandonment and suffering they earned,
Dies in their place for all the wholesome choices that they spurned
Their stains are all removed and their souls have all been freed;
He rises up in glory and then offers them a creed:

To follow in His footsteps, though they may stumble still;
He’ll catch them as they fall if they will only seek His will,
A whole new life before them, a noble worthwhile way,
A journey of abundant love towards eternal day.

The Dawn

This saddest chore we will fulfill,
We women weak and weary still
From all these awful days have wrought,
We will ebalm him as we ought.

But who will roll the stone away, and what about the guard?
So many things combined to make this day so very hard.
There’s the rich man’s garden, but what happened to the tomb?
My friends nervously approach and peer into the gloom. Continue reading

The Darkest Day

 

The one on whom we pinned our hopes is now forever gone;
His broken, twisted corpse has shown all witnesses Rome won!
His promises of life and mercy clearly all a fraud,
Hide and lock yourselves away before you face a vicious sword!

What was he thinking? When they came he told us not to fight,
He surrendered with such calm, as if he controlled that night.
We could have made a break for it and seen another day,
With all the wonders that he worked, there had to be another way…

When he merely said his name, they all fell to the ground,
Wasn’t he supposed to clear the temple then be crowned?
Clearly not, no king would choose to die the way he did,
When morning comes it will be time that we all fled and hid.

Deny you ever knew him, or you’ll share his shameful fate;
Our home towns might just take us back, if it’s not too late.
Our women want to see the tomb, embalm his body right,
There they go, despite the gloom of dawn’s approaching light…

Different Eyes

This is one of the first songs I ever wrote, with a very simple haunting guitar accompaniment (stretching my very poor guitar skills to the limit). I was sure I had it written down somewhere but couldn’t find it, so have reconstructed it from what I remember. It is about Good Friday, which is today. If I can get them finished in time, I hope to have a poem about Easter Saturday up tomorrow, and one about Easter Sunday the day after, we’ll see how that goes. Continue reading