The first-fruits of the harvest fully grown,
Were given as a sacred sacrifice.
And Christ, the sacrifice that would atone,
As first-fruit, promises eternal life.
First Christ was resurrected from the dead,
And claimed a place at God’s mighty right-hand,
Then all the saints will rise from their grave-beds,
Then everything will list to Christ’s commands.
And all authority is given Him,
Subjection every power ‘neath his feet.
Death cannot have dominion over Him,
But God is all, all is in Him complete.
So wait for resurrection patiently,
Christ’s resurrection was our guarantee.
You call this supper of the Lord?
This drunkenness and hunger?
Do you not see His wrath out-poured,
The plague you suffer under?
Repent that He may give reward,
And discipline no longer.
Express the unity of Christ,
As part of His own body.
Do not divide by deeds of life,
Those poor and those with money.
And do not split – doctrinal strife,
But factions show the phony.
With all humility draw nigh,
And by no works accepted,
He interposed and dared to die,
And for us was rejected.
Proclaim, in this, the Crucified,
All level, none neglected.
And with thanksgiving, praises made,
With gratitude our eating.
At wonder at the price He paid,
And worship at His bleeding.
The very night He was betrayed,
With His own body feeding.
No sin is ever then too great.
You never will be worthy!
But Christ was worthy in your place,
Why chose You to restore me?
There is no answer I can make,
All praises be before Thee!
The genius of all art,
Is seen in whole and part:
Both intricately made,
Let Pauline letters quickly show,
The context here described below.
Though Corinth was of Rome,
Hellenics called it home.
An isthmus of earth,
Where sailors made their berths.
A melting pot which sprung,
Of diamonds and of dung.
Of pagans and of priests:
The wealth and filth of Greece.
Perhaps not very strange,
Location thus deranged.
Is our own modern time,
Not paralyzed in kind?
Here Paul a church would grow,
Like leather tents to sew,
The Spirit in his work,
Disclosed where devils lurked.
His soul and sorrow spent,
To sew this straying tent.
With tears and cries to guide,
For love of Jesus Bride.
But was his work in vain,
His life to shrink in pain?
To labor for the church,
This crushed and filthy Church?
But God can cure disease,
And prisoners release.
He suffered all for Her,
Her warts He’ll surely cure.