The work-man’s worthy of his wage,
And for his service prompt his pay,
Divine this declaration.
The wages of right are breath and life,
The wages of sin are death and strife,
Paid without hesitation.
Then raise the thigh and heave your cost,
And wave the breast – this sacred cross,
The wages of the clergy,
The sacrifice would pay it’s blood,
The meat was paid to priests for food,
All pointing yet to Calvary.
Where God’s own son was sacrificed,
He – lifted, waved – our savior, Christ,
His body our communion.
Our pay is Christ, His priests, His bride,
Our sacred food, our joy, our life,
And bound in holy union.
So raise your offering to the Lord,
Support the shepherds of His word,
The worship of your tithing.
A tribe of Levites, priests of God,
Our portion bought with sacred blood,
For Jesus all our striving.
Now, what is my identity,
My master whom I can not flee?
A slave to Christ, not sin or me,
In Jesus Christ I am defined.
Identifying not with death,
But in Jehovah’s living breath,
His covenant, His grace, His rest,
With Christ my king, His law is mine.
Identifying with His bride,
Communion with the crucified,
And with His people unified,
His holy bride from sin refined.
So Satan’s feeble fantasies,
And sin, not your identity.
Redemption is reality,
We will in Christ perfection find.
No priest was passed the need to give his tithe,
Thanks-giving for the fruits the Lord endued,
A curse on them whose greed consumes their life,
Give gifts to God with gifts that He gave you.
And priests would reconcile men from sin,
A sacrifice of service, prayer, and praise,
Proclaiming the salvation Christ extends,
A mouth-piece, martyr, embassy of grace.
The priest receives and eats the holy food,
The work of God, the sustenance he needs,
Communion with the Christ our strength renews,
So through His sacrifice, His worker feeds.
And God has called us each as priests of Christ,
In service then, surrender all your life.