Visiting Cleopas & His Friend

On a searing hot Sunday afternoon
Cleopas and friend were mournful
As they trod the road to Emmaus
The Messiah’s loss was so painful
The Lamb was harangued and hanged
He who was once the Great Jewish Hope
And Israel’s freedom was now damned
With faith crushed how would they cope?
A Stranger joined them on the way
And asked the cause of their sadness
Bemused, they mused He must be new
Not to know about Friday’s gory darkness
The Stranger began with prophecies of old
How Friday’ crucifixion was a manifestation
And a triumph of Messianic vindication
For Christ must offer to suffer and die for all
To take away the dark cloud of death’s pall
He spoke till they arrived Emmaus at dusk
They invited Him in-made their home an inn
Supper served, He broke bread in His manner
Revelation flashed, This was Him the same as
Before the nails and gore-He was risen
Off He went to confirm His resurrection
To others like us still bound in fear’s prison
For He is that same as He was that day
By past prophecy proving His present sway

 

What Think Ye Of Christ?

What think ye of Jesus Christ?
Messiah birthed in Bethlehem
Who is called the Son of David
And yet David called Him Lord
Did David just utter an idle word?
Or was inspired to call his Son Lord?
Who is this Man that is both
The Offspring and Root of Jesse
All at once the Fountain-Source
And Product of the Royal Seed
Why did Herod make a bloody fuss
And fight to extinguish the Light
If David had seen Him on His throne
Waiting patiently for two millennia
Till all His enemies bow at His Stool
At the end of Satan’s worldly mania
What think ye then of the coming King?
Be like David who bowed when he could
For Herod will be cowed when he must
Those who know bow to Christ now

Life From The Dead

 

All that live feed on the dead
Something dies for you to live
If all live you can never thrive
When we savour we devour
Food comes from the not so good
Practice of killing-herbs expire
And animals to give us a new lease
If the sustenance of natural life
Comes from substitutionary death
Then why is the deadly idea rife
That our spiritual life depends
On a bloodless set of commandments
Religion without an atonement ‎ends
In a farce-like you can live on only oxygen
Man shall not live by bread alone-wheat dies
But the Word of God which became flesh
And died too in order that you may rise
To seize the prize of eternally sustained Life

One Thing Thou Lackest

 

One thing thou lackest was said
By Christ to the rich young ruler
Who kept all the Mosaic laws
A‎nd thought he was free from flaws
Being a protégé of his denomination
Devout and worthy of admiration
But his piety only brought him amity
From friends on earth and hearth
He knew he did not have the true Life
And sought a remedy for his malady
The prescription of Doctor Jesus was dire
An immediate fire sale of self-denial
And acceptance of the Word‎ of the hour
This rich young ruler was filled with ire
It was too great a price to leave his seat
As a sterling scion of the Synagogue
For fame and fortune he beat a retreat
What would it cost you in today’s terms
To walk in the weather-worn narrow way
And follow the prophesied truth of the day
Come what may, you must pay the price
To be Christ’s Bride and stand at His Side

 

Successor Intercessor

Some say we need no Intercessor
To stand between a holy God and man
For the Cross cleanses the trangressor
And that is the entirety of salvation’s plan

A look at the Old Testament shadow
Would make such a believer furrow
Brow in consternation for ‎Mosaic pattern
Reveals details in a palette most modern

In the ancient Testament the worshipper
Sacrificed a Lamb – dying in His sinful stead
Sins were covered-from Divine wrath delivered
Still the High Priest entered the holiest once a year
With blood ‎interceding for the people with fear

Now Christ is the Lamb slain for our sacrifice
And past sins have been bleached into remission
Yet He intercedes upon our daily confession
With His Own blood in the holiest of heaven
A High Priest toiling till we are free from leaven

 

 

King In A Kid

Who would have thought
That the Great God sought
And desired by men of all ages
Would suddenly be brought forth
Born as though He were nought
In the animal manger-stall

Who would have really thought
That Jehovah who lives forever
Would play on Bethlehem’s streets
And dance like others with dirty feet

Surely who would have thought
That a twelve year old being sought
By His foster parents would have caught
The error in their paternity claim
And tell them who His real Father was
Thus making their argument lame

This twelve year old was teaching
The great Rabbis and scholars
They listened in shock and awe
He was the Word they were reading
He was the truth they were seeking

This Kid grew to manhood
To the time of Messianic manifestation
He was just a Man on the outside
And Almighty God on the inside

He slept like a tired Man in the boat
And buffeting demons on the sea took note
And raised a storm while He was afloat
‎Once roused-He spoke like a Mighty God
And legions of demons obeyed their Lord

All through His earthly sojourn
He was the gentle and mild Lamb
Innocent and forgiving, letting and leaving
Same Lamb returns as a Royal Lion
Judging and condemning the haughty
For those who scorn Him in His minority
Will be victims of ‎His sovereign authority

 

Greatness In Simplicity

Great God that occupies all space and time
Whom the heaven of heavens holds not
Who is clothed and veiled in majestic Light
Yet condescends to man who sought Him not

He who separated the earth from water
And made the moon His tidal marker
A seal for the surging sea to see and falter
Surely has a way to mark the elect that matter

He who was veiled before the seraph-angels
Sinless beings who never took up Lucifer’s cudgels
They saw Him not till on Bethlehem’s blessed lea
He was born-the dying mankind’s Saviour to be

He who made all things for His good pleasure
Thousands of starry suns and windswept worlds
Yet the Director-Producer of this great cosmic art
Borrows my little heart and yours to act a part