The proem to the poem of humanity
Was set against the backdrop of captivity,
Was cast with souls encumbered by profanity,
Was opened not with pomp but with nativity.
The word, the light, the lion-lamb, the majesty
Of heaven, holiness in his humility,
Appeared in righteousness to end the amnesty
And fix final salvation from futility.
The method of his advent seemed absurdity
To those who thought they knew the king’s priority,
Yet as the virgin held mortal eternity,
The world beheld the hope of our infirmity.
And all the damned ones shuddered as the surety
Of justice came in love to face depravity,
To bear the curse of sin and give security
That God will satisfy creation’s cavity.
So hope. His coming heralds a community
Where sin will not be suffered – there immunity
From falling from his presence. Perfect unity
Of love will lead to worship of triunity.
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The fall was not the final word.
Isaiah has foretold,
A silent lamb shall take our place,
A saving act of wrath and grace
That sinners young and old
Might know the power of the Word:
He laid aside his majesty
To be for us the light
And tasted death in place of men
That man might know freedom from sin.
He overcame the night
And shines for all eternity.
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Father, let me ne’er forget the story
Of the cross, the tomb, the third day’s glory.
For after those four hundred years so long,
Elijah’s call was heard throughout the land.
“The kingdom comes! Repent! Make straight the way!”
And with his words, John pointed to the Word,
The spotless lamb of God, the virgin’s son,
The heir to David’s throne, the promised one.
He brought us peace yet also brought a sword;
The people were divided in that day.
They cried. He died. They did not understand.
He rose, and this is evermore our song:
The king has won the war we could not fight;
The darkness has not overcome the light.
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Merge with the ongoing chorus;
Introduce the new refrain:
Jesus Christ our Lord died for us!
Magnify the Lamb once slain!
God has lifted up the faces
Of the weary, weak, and worn.
By his grace, they bear no traces
Of their death. In him, tis shorn.
Praise, oh praise his name, O people,
From this moment evermore.
Lowest valley, highest steeple –
Likewise heed the holy roar.
Who is like the Lord Almighty,
God above what eyes can see,
Never fickle, never flighty,
Constant through eternity?
The sacrificial lamb was laid upon
The altar by the hands of wicked men,
And all was dark the days before the dawn
In the apparent victory of sin.
The lesser lion, seeking to devour,
Set his assault against the sacred son,
And Satan, in the darkness of the hour,
Was certain that the victory was won.
And so it was, but not for his array.
The cross of Christ displayed for all to see
That Satan’s claim to power had been wrong.
The finished hunter had become the prey.
The word made flesh fulfilled the prophecy.
The lamb had been a lion all along.
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There never was a “then” when Christ was not,
Only begotten God of God on high.
The Gospel story ever was the plot:
The spotless Lamb for spotted sheep to die.
By nature, men do sin and stand in need
And lack the merit morally required.
And thus, the holy call, “Take up and read,”
Can offer life so lovingly acquired.
The Word was written that we might not sin,
That living branches might bear fruit for life.
Yet when we falter, there is hope again
As Christ called Peter thrice from Peter’s strife.
We read and write for right theology,
That saints would not be swayed by heresy.