Where rain will never fall,
Where rivers never flow,
The land will stall and dry,
The fields will slowly die.
Where sun will never rise,
Where moon will never gleam,
The beasts with cries will cease,
While people scream and freeze.
Where scripture is not preached,
This scene is worst of all,
With vision leached men flee,
Seek self, the Fall, and blasphemy.
The Law, though written into stone,
Could not be etched in our stone hearts.
And so the Lord made His law flesh,
When Christ embodied righteousness.
His heart of flesh He now imparts,
His law within the ones He owns.
And though the Father knows all things,
And though His Law makes our sins bare,
Yet He does not remember them.
The Law in us does not condemn,
Its nearness births in us a share,
As heirs to the Eternal King.
Jehovah, like an artist, first began,
By roughly sketching His salvation’s plan.
The law in symbol, shadow, and out-line,
Would be memorial and as a sign.
For it could never fully cleanse our sin,
But must be done again and yet again.
And so the Father painted in the lines,
With flesh and blood the portrait He designed.
For God who spoke the Law now spoke once more,
His final Word, His Son who would restore:
This vibrant shape foreshadowed in the sketch,
Who was, and is, and who is coming yet.
God did not want the guts of slaughtered sheep,
But His desire is to make us clean.
He takes no pleasure in the blood of beasts,
But in His holy Bride is He well-pleased.
His will was never endless sacrifice,
But sons and daughters of the blood of Christ.
The portrait of salvation which God made –
Before the footings of the earth were laid –
He paints with blood and sinews of a man:
The incarnation was His perfect plan.
The Law was letters scribbled into stone,
In Christ God wrote again in flesh and bone,
To fill the nature which His law had lacked,
From contract to a personal contact.
The sketch has vanished in the final art,
The Law became a beating, human heart.