This end of which I speak:
Salvation of the soul,
The climax, end, and peak,
By faith it is made whole.
This Grace that came to you,
The prophets did predict,
The fathers too perused,
Inquired, searched, for this,
This: when the Christ would come?
What manner would He rule?
Then God, or David’s son?
A wise man or a fool?
A king or beggar scorned?
A teacher or a leech?
To throne or manger born?
A prophet or a priest?
A shepherd or a knight?
A rod, or else, a sword?
A sacrifice or fight?
A rabbi or the Lord?
The spirit testified,
In them, before the fact,
Of suffering glorified,
Just how the Christ would act.
But this all lead to you,
Who see this come to pass,
To us the privileged few,
Did Christ appear at least.
This mystery so thick,
Elijah could not find,
Nor Moses could predict,
When Christ would come to die.
Yet all of us now know!
This glorious mystery,
That prophets could not know,
And angels longed to see!
This holy gift we own,
Don’t take for granted then!
Inscribe in on a stone!
Declare it unto men!
Salvation came from God,
The Quintessential Word.
With both the sword and rod,
The beggar who was Lord.
The sacrifice that won,
And winning as He died,
To call us each His son,
The victor – crucified.
This paradox so dense,
The wisest could not see,
How Christs our sins would cleanse,
Revealed to fools like me!
Sermon Poems 