O dread and phantom foe,
O sin, you enemy,
I bear you only hate,
Yet you reside in me!
This guilt shows I am damned,
And hell before me yawns,
The Law condemns to death,
My innocence is gone.
Infraction great or small,
Or felony the same,
Death is the sentence named,
Rebellion ends in shame.
My country-men in whole,
As murderers bear guilt,
The blood of those unborn,
By millions has been spilt.
And we the church have sinned,
Constricting unity,
Forgetting brothers bound,
In pointless vanities.
And I, a leader, led,
My followers astray,
My guilt in mill-stone’s weight.
Lord, can this be assuaged?
Will blood of bulls redress,
Rebellion against God?
Repeated sacrifice,
And ever spilling blood?
Yet better blood was shed,
The holiest of all,
For God Himself has died,
And let forgiveness fall.
The guilt that we confess,
His blood has washed away.
Let sin then shrink in dread,
Defeated and dismayed!
Sermon Poems 