The Path, continued--
The Morn
Death is not the End!
Life springs forth
From behind the rock
Dawn has cracked
The darkness of the tomb
Sun shines bright
As the Son rises
Morning Robin
Sings her song
On Resurrection Morn
The horrible, torturous Cross
Now blooms
With flowers and New Life
Once symbol of
Caesar's cruel rule
Now, symbol
Of King Jesus' eternal reign
Temporal power,
Curse of death,
Sin's horrible offspring
Now lie in the
Rags of Jesus'
Burial clothes-
Left Behind
With Jesus, we rise
From the ashes of sin and death
To Redemption's Sunny Morn!
@2012, Michael Lancaster
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Path
The Path
The Path took its final turn on Palm Sunday
For Jerusalem, the Holy City
That murders the prophets and those sent to her
The Path had led him
In the womb from Nazareth to Bethlehem--
Least of all the tribes
No cradle, but a meek manger
For the God-Man,
Light of the world
The path had led him to Egypt
Former house of slavery
Now asylum from Herod's wrath
The path led him to
Jerusalem for Passover
To learn with the elders
Were they the same who cried
Twenty-one years later
For his blood?
The path led him to a carpenter's shop
In lowly Nazareth
Tables, chairs, and cabinets would be his wares
Later, people's hearts
The path led him to the
Rivers of the Jordan
Crossed by Joshua ages before
To be baptized--not for sin
But as a model for us
An anointing, an ordination
To the greatest ministry ever known
To a lakeshore where fishermen
Became bishops
A tax table where a crook became
The writer of the first gospel
His path led him to synagogues
Teacher's seats
To leper colonies
To a midnight meeting with Nicodemus
To a hillside where the
Greatest Sermon was ever preached
His path took him to
Long days of teaching
Thick-headed disciples
And stiff-necked masses
To a table where a sinful woman
Washed his feet with the tears of repentance
To an adulterous Samaritan woman
To a tree that held a sinner named Zacchaeus
His path took him to confrontation
With the "powers that be"
A table with blood and body
Shared by a traitor
And eleven deserters
His path took him to
A lonely garden
Where the grief of the world
He bore alone
His path took him
To a beating and flogging
Like no one has every known
The wrath of sin
Tearing at his
Precious flesh
His path took him to
The Cross of Calvary
Love poured out like
Wine at the Passover Table
"Father, forgive them
because they don't know what they are doing."
"Woman, here is your son.
Behold your mother."
"Truly, I say to you
Today, you will be with me in Paradise!"
"My God, my God
Why have you forsaken me?"
"I am thirsty!"
"Father, into your hands
I commend my spirit."
"It is finished!"
His path was the love of God for sinners
Extravagant, Lavish, Limitless Love
That led him to the Cross
Where Love's flesh died for you and me
"How much do you love me, Jesus?"
"This much!"
(And he stretched out his arms on the Cross and died)
Life-Giving Spirit departs
His path had come to its End
In a borrowed tomb
Or had it really ended? . . . . . . . . . . .
@2012, Michael Lancaster
The Path took its final turn on Palm Sunday
For Jerusalem, the Holy City
That murders the prophets and those sent to her
The Path had led him
In the womb from Nazareth to Bethlehem--
Least of all the tribes
No cradle, but a meek manger
For the God-Man,
Light of the world
The path had led him to Egypt
Former house of slavery
Now asylum from Herod's wrath
The path led him to
Jerusalem for Passover
To learn with the elders
Were they the same who cried
Twenty-one years later
For his blood?
The path led him to a carpenter's shop
In lowly Nazareth
Tables, chairs, and cabinets would be his wares
Later, people's hearts
The path led him to the
Rivers of the Jordan
Crossed by Joshua ages before
To be baptized--not for sin
But as a model for us
An anointing, an ordination
To the greatest ministry ever known
To a lakeshore where fishermen
Became bishops
A tax table where a crook became
The writer of the first gospel
His path led him to synagogues
Teacher's seats
To leper colonies
To a midnight meeting with Nicodemus
To a hillside where the
Greatest Sermon was ever preached
His path took him to
Long days of teaching
Thick-headed disciples
And stiff-necked masses
To a table where a sinful woman
Washed his feet with the tears of repentance
To an adulterous Samaritan woman
To a tree that held a sinner named Zacchaeus
His path took him to confrontation
With the "powers that be"
A table with blood and body
Shared by a traitor
And eleven deserters
His path took him to
A lonely garden
Where the grief of the world
He bore alone
His path took him
To a beating and flogging
Like no one has every known
The wrath of sin
Tearing at his
Precious flesh
His path took him to
The Cross of Calvary
Love poured out like
Wine at the Passover Table
"Father, forgive them
because they don't know what they are doing."
"Woman, here is your son.
Behold your mother."
"Truly, I say to you
Today, you will be with me in Paradise!"
"My God, my God
Why have you forsaken me?"
"I am thirsty!"
"Father, into your hands
I commend my spirit."
"It is finished!"
His path was the love of God for sinners
Extravagant, Lavish, Limitless Love
That led him to the Cross
Where Love's flesh died for you and me
"How much do you love me, Jesus?"
"This much!"
(And he stretched out his arms on the Cross and died)
Life-Giving Spirit departs
His path had come to its End
In a borrowed tomb
Or had it really ended? . . . . . . . . . . .
@2012, Michael Lancaster
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