There is a temple real and true,
A dwelling place for God on high,
And all His saints may there commune,
Whose vaults resound with seraphs’ cries.
Yet not on earth was this tent laid,
Nor was it raised by mortal man.
A tent of skin in heaven made,
Erected by the Father’s hands.
Then all the temples which were made:
Of Moses, Solomon began,
Of Ezra, Herod, gold inlaid,
Were shadows, substance-less, and bland.
But Jesus was the true High-Priest,
Who ministered in this true tent.
The temple, yet, though none can see,
Out-shines all sensory content.
Yet Jesus is Himself this place,
For God and man unite in Him.
He is the temple of God’s grace,
And He is the true tent of skin.
When we are whelmed with wicked men,
When evil poises for the win,
And we are tempted to give in;
For was our faith misguided, then?
Yet open up your weary eyes:
There’s more which stand upon our side.
For God the Father this oath swore:
“Christ is My priest forevermore.”
And He will never come up short,
Nor be abandoned by the Lord.
Thus He assures this better oath,
Defended by the Lord of hosts.
And He will never be replaced,
But actively will see us saved,
From any sin, or any place,
If we but trust Him through His grace.
The intercession of the Christ,
Secures the victory for His side.
A priest must first be called of God,
As Aaron, of the blooming rod,
Not of himself this honor takes,
But only God a priest may make.
And so did Christ not tout his worth,
But God anointed Him from birth;
“I have begotten you, my Son,
You are a priest, as was the one,
Melchizedek. This I reveal.
I swear, and I will not repeal.”
And Christ whose mighty cries and tears,
Effective to the God who hears,
Both will and has raised dead to life,
Because in all things He is right:
In learning His obedience,
Through suffering in penitence,
In taking legal rights to save,
Maturing, then, as He forgave,
In being named for all to see,
A priest for all eternity!